I am not a revolutionary. I am not a rebel. I am not a protestor or an agitator or an instigator. I’m certainly not an activist or an extremist or a radical.
Then why am I standing on a stage preaching God’s Word in
the midst of a city-sanctioned investigation? Why am I being secretly
videotaped singing worship songs to be used as evidence in a case against my
church? Why has God brought me here?
You might think I’m in China or Iran, but I’m in
America—Lake Worth, Florida.
God is showing me that the landscape of the Church is
shifting. Churches are emerging in the least likely places all over the world.
Services are held in parks, houses, bars, chapels, clubs, movie theaters,
schools, and coffee bars. Men and women are coming to Christ in enormous
numbers. The message of the Gospel is exploding and the Lord is on the move, in
pursuit of people. He has laborers across the globe sowing and reaping the
harvest.
I attended a Voice of Martyrs conference a few months ago.
This organization exists to bring awareness and aid to the persecuted church in
countries like Syria, Iran, and China. The location of the conference was very
appropriate: a missionary plane hanger that houses small crafts, which can be
flown into hostile and remote locations. There was palpable somberness in the
hanger, mixed with a touch of adventure and excitement.
On my way to the conference, I prepared my heart for what I
expected to feel: guilt for the lack of persecution I have faced in my own
life, pity for those who have suffered for their faith, and an awkward sense of
duty to respond financially.
Instead, as each speaker took the stage to share his or her
stories of torture, imprisonment, oppression, and loss, I felt something I did
not expect: hope. The speakers asked that we pray for them, not to avoid
persecution, but to remain faithful, hopeful, and joyous in all circumstances. Their
tales were unbelievable in their scope of humanity’s depravity and God’s
capacity to love and redeem. As they spoke I realized the wonderful fellowship
shared between the persecuted. It’s almost like an inside joke between friends
that is warm and inclusive, never alienating or biting.
When they finished, my heart was full of peace, passion, and
confidence in my God and His Bride. I felt proud to be called a Christian and
belong to the same family as those who had died and suffered for the cause of
Christ. Somewhere deep inside, I felt connected to all the followers of Christ
who had come before me: the apostles, the saints, and the martyrs.
I returned from the conference and went back to my
incredible job at Common Ground Church, a church plant sprouted from the rich
soil of the fervent prayers and ceaseless efforts of Pastor Mike Olive and his
family. It is a haven for those who are lonely, joyful, fatherless, lower class,
middle class, upper class, retired, full-time, well adjusted, unique, passionate,
homeless, single, married, doubtful, and faithful. It is a place, quite
literally, of common ground. We’ve had the opportunity to open a full time
coffee bar and be a force for good in our community, shining a light into the
darkness and meeting people where they are.
Pastor Mike called a staff meeting last week to inform us
that the church had been cited by a code compliance officer who was secretly recording
our service on Sunday. In the official report, he saw: “people holding what
appeared to be bibles or religious books as one had a cross on it.” We were
given three weeks to cease and desist (our services) or face penalties. We are
still in the throes of legal conversation and action; but the subject in the
forefront for all of us is prayer. Prayer has kept us strong and united to other
Christians in our community, country, and around the world. It has drawn us
closer to God and to one another.
A few days ago, Pastor Mike shared with the staff that our
situation is the tip of the wave of persecution that will hit America over the
coming decades. I believe this is true. We have long lived in relative ease and
comfort in our Christian lives and have enjoyed the safety of our freedom of
religion. There will be a day where being a Christ-follower will be a dangerous
title to bear in America.
But this is not bad news! There is a fellowship that accompanies
persecution. There is a bonding and knitting together that occurs between
hearts under siege. There is a beauty to the Body of Christ that goes unseen
because it has not been refined by fire. God is glorified in our suffering. We
share in the suffering of Christ and become more like Him.
This leads me to my great discovery. I am not revolutionary,
but Jesus was.
His message was revolutionary. His love was radical. His
grace was extreme.
He asks us as a body of believers to share in the fellowship
of the persecuted.
“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation. If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you.…” (1 Peter 4:12-14)