The Christian Church Is The Only Army That...

If you've been in church circles long enough, you know how this line ends.

The phrase came up yesterday in a conversation I had with a friend. He'd recently been shown the door, professionally speaking, and is now out of work. He had been working for a Christian non-profit organization, but the circumstances surrounding his departure were quite ugly. Being a close friend, I might fairly be deemed biased, but anyone with eyes to see knows where the real problem lies.

This friend is the just the most recent in a very long line of difficult departures. The entire leadership has moved on over the past five years. The CEO has been ensconced in his role for decades, but no one who works directly for the man ever lasts anywhere like as long.

The Christian Church is the only army that shoots its wounded.

Yeah, that was the phrase that came to my friend's mind, but as soon as the words left his lips I blurted out, "True, but I've got it one better for you!"

The Christian Church is the only army that allows the wounded to shoot the healthy.

Yes, that is much closer to the mark. My friend is spiritually healthy, as were many of his former colleagues. But they're all gone. It's the sick-puppy CEO who continues to resolutely steer the ship. He'll ride it right to the bottom if the board lets him. So far there's no sign that they won't.

My friend and I have both been here before. On the last pass we were in it together, part of a group of healthy families who were collectively ejected from a dying church we had hoped would revive. It did not. The dynamic is tiresomely predictable. In almost every church situation where I have found myself needing to do so, I find after inspection that the entire group of people tasked with a leader's oversight are themselves hand-picked by that same sick puppy. Be it a vestry or a board of directors, the results are usually the same when conflicts arise. The overseers fall in line behind the sick puppy. The organization (if indeed it survives at all) emerges from the storm a very much weakened vessel.

But I think something else needs to be said: We have been too hard on the church in all of this. Waaaaaaaay too hard. I've seen the exact same sick dynamics in the working world. I don't think there's anything particularly unique to the church in all of this. This stuff is what happens when humans are involved.

All those platitudes about shooting the wounded? They are well suited to describe precisely some churches and some organizations. The church I now attend does not shoot its wounded. Our pastor is a good man. As for the board? I submit that churches with healthy elders don't generally have to deal with sick-puppy pastors—because they don't hire them. That has been the case with our church, so kudos to our elders as well.

And yet. And yet we have these phrases about shooting the wounded. Why? Because we believe we were supposed to "do it better". But while our failures are a cause for sorrow both for God and mankind, it is only we humans who are surprised by our failures. God is not. Jesus clearly had no illusions that his followers were going to achieve perfection. Two scripture passages come to mind.

John 2:23-25
Now while he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Festival, many people saw the signs he was performing and believed in his name. But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person.

Takeaway? Jesus can be trusted. The rest of us? Not so much. Myself included. In Jesus' absence we must appoint leaders. But along with Jesus we should not trust them blindly, as too many vestries and boards have done. My friend is now out of work and a Christian organization has lost a good manager. Because of a sick-puppy CEO and a blind board.*

A final thought. I have essentially equated church dysfunction with secular dysfunction, but it must be noted that Jesus himself was not as generous.

Luke 16:8b
"For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light."

Maybe we really are the only army that...

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* Actually, one board member was not blind. She resigned in protest. God bless her for her principled stand, but her action makes the indictment of the remaining board members that much the more severe. They didn't even listen to their own peer. Sick-puppy CEO was given more credence. My friend was tarred as the sick one. Shocker? No. Business as normal. Jesus help us, your church. We weren't supposed to be a poorly managed business.

The First Documented Fool For Christ

It took me a while to find it, but Yes. I have blogged on this woman before. After that ink had dried, I didn't anticipate having more to say about this delightful soul, but here we are again.

John 4:28-30
Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” They came out of the town and made their way toward him.

These verses follow on the heels of a conversation Jesus initiated with a Samaritan woman at a well. He met her there at mid-day. She came alone to draw water at the hottest (worst) time of the day. Why? Because she was the town slut. Respectable women came together during the more temperate morning hours. Jesus isn't a local, so he shouldn't know anything about her history. Except that he does.

John 4:16-18
He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”
“I have no husband,” she replied.
Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

In the prior blog I focused on the reversal of gender roles. With Jesus' invitation, she ably performed work appropriate to a (male?) minister. And she did it while the other twelve disciples (yes, the men) went about a woman's work. All they ever brought back from that village was groceries. She went to the same village and returned to Jesus with people. (This passage is good fodder for the argument that missions work is best done by locals!)

At any rate, I concluded then that this woman was the first documented ordained female minister of Christ. No mean feat. However, it dawned on me today that this woman has yet another title to claim. She's also the first documented "Fool For Christ".

“Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did."

Didn't we just say that this woman was the town slut? Didn't Jesus point out how many husbands (let alone lovers) she'd gone through? If we were to tally a list of all the things she had done, it would not be family friendly material! I don't think this point needs further explanation.

A digression with a purpose: they say Middle School is the hardest phase in childhood. We called it Junior High in my day, but both phrases mean the same thing in Latin: Hell. In those days, when I had news of interest I sometimes hoped that sharing it would improve my situation. It did not. Being the bearer of interesting news never changed my status. The news was valued, but the medium (read, me) was not.

That, friends, is how I've always met this story, emotionally speaking. When the woman at the well went back to town, in my mind's eye I could well envision her delivering the interesting news—and also how it was received. Would it change how people viewed her? Nah. They'd be curious to meet the prophet, but you can almost see the woman falling out of the camera's frame of reference as the men hurry out to the well.

But I see more clearly today how that telling of the story misses the mark. On two counts.

For starters, when I was a lonely child hoping to improve my social status, the news I shared never involved me, much less my own poor reputation. The whole point was to draw attention away from everything that exposed me as a loser. But this woman? She dove headlong into the worst parts of her life. "He told me everything I ever did." This woman was not acting like my Junior High self.

Furthermore, the villagers for their part were not behaving like my classmates of old, either. They didn't respond to the woman as my fellow classmates did to me. The news I shared back then never bought me respect or friendship. It never worked that way. But these villagers? Before it was over they clearly saw this woman in a new and different light.

John 4:42
They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”

That is peer-to-peer communication of the sort I doubt this woman had heard in a while. To put it another way, notice that the news has been repeated back to the medium. That only happens when the medium has value. In this case, the medium is the village slut. Or was. Yes, in the presence of Jesus all the folks in that town became equals—mortals in need of a savior. Co-recipients of a priceless treasure.

Is this woman the first documented Fool For Christ? Yes, I think she is, but I now find myself moving past the initial humor in that assertion. There's heavy material here. The more I compare her actions to my puerile efforts to gain friend in an equally tight and small village called Junior High, I am struck in a sobering way by the parallels and contrasts.

Try to bring news so as to improve your reputation? Good luck with that. Let me know how that works out for you.

Throw your reputation to the wind in order to bring no-strings-attached good news? Now you've got people's attention—and among the wiser ones you'll have gained respect as well.

This is yet another ironic case of seeking the Kingdom first, only to discover in hindsight that other good things we wanted—and failed to acquire on our own—come with the package. The irony is not that it happens that way. Jesus said that it would. The irony is that we don't follow Jesus' advice more often.

Hats off to the woman who forgot herself while heaping honors upon Jesus. She's a hard act to follow. But we really should try.

When I reach eternity, dear woman, please do me a favor and find me out. I'd like to shake your hand. And maybe you could introduce me to Jesus, too? I'd like that.