It Started with a Fight
When Expectations & Reality Collide
There’s a battle between Satan and the devil! What a climax to the first sermon I ever preached as a Junior in High School. As Carmen lyrics pumped through this adrenaline-fueled barnburner of a message, I envisioned everyone in my youth group laying prostrate before the Lord after launching their drugs, booze, and porn (hidden in those JNCO jeans) into the garbage cans set at the foot of the stage during my thirty-eight-minute rant/altar call. Then Satan had to go and attack himself.
Growing up, evangelists were a steady part of the rhythm in my church releasing their pulse pounding, fire breathing cadence in full force. Unlike school, I would arrive as early as possible to claim the best seats in the house to hear these warriors. Their stories of war captivated the crowds, causing them to clamor at the call to join the fight. There was a dying world out there and we were called to save it.
Testimonies of drug addictions, gang affiliations, lifting heavy things, and faces being blown off were key components for qualifying as a warrior evangelist. This was an elite class of Christian special forces and, for as long as I attended that private, preppy Christian school, I didn’t have a shot at joining its ranks. I fantasized about graduating from the Lord’s Army bootcamp to become the first Scandinavian Rambo-Van Damme hell fighter with a microphone.
Preaching was warfare to me. Taking that sword, slinging it from side to side, and lunging it into the heart of a cowardly demonic enemy while lifting a heavenly war cry. What a rush! Every word from those evangelists dripped with power and authority, emboldening the listener to rise and take no prisoners. I was ready to enlist.
Bible College was the next phase of this special ops training and throwing a pile of young men into a cinderblock building for four years was a brilliant strategy of developing spiritual maturity in these young warriors. We were surrounded by godly men and women investing in us, cheering us on in the calling we had been given; to storm the gates of hell. Chapel services ended with altars filled with students crying out to God to empower us in this fight against evil. We were living in this spiritual incubator, preparing to unleash into the world, taking it by storm.
Directing choirs wasn’t originally on my list of requirements needed for storming the gates of hell, and here I was one summery Saturday morning gently waiving my hands to the response of forty or so angelic voices (minus one…or two) filling the room with patriotic praise. The fourth of July was just around the corner and our church hosted a patriotic musical every year. Rehearsal was humming along when suddenly, in the middle of the thirteenth stanza, the Holy Spirit audibly whispered in my ear.
“You’re going to stop this rehearsal after this song and move to a different room immediately”, she said. From the quiet, shaking intensity of her voice, I knew trouble was brewing. At the end of the song, I turned around to see a bridal party had arrived, arms folded, feet tapping, patiently waiting with their decorations in tow. The bride, radiating different shades of red on her face, sent her mother to deliver the news of their arrival to me. The choir hastily exited the stage to an adjacent room and practice continued as though nothing had happened. As we picked up on the next song, the bride’s father entered the room, interrupting our practice and demanding an apology from me and the entire choir for ruining his daughter’s wedding. I remember thinking how fortunate his future son-in-law was about to become in a few hours.
The honeymoon spilled over into a board meeting where apologies were demanded, threats to leave the church were hurled, and my head on a platter was preferred. What unfolded over the following months was the exposure of a deeper church fissure over the direction of the church and its leadership. What began as an honest miscommunication issue with our church admin staff, would develop into a full-fledged war in a business meeting where former board members were threatening current board members chased by a petition being passed around to remove my pastor. Satan was fighting the devil again.
Tuesday morning arrived, and with it, our regularly scheduled staff meeting was about to begin. Across from me sat a man whose blood had not returned to his face, reeling from that Sunday evening gut-punch. Memories are unclear of the exact content of that meeting, but what I felt will never escape me. Battles were meant to be fought outside these church walls, not within them.
Many have thrown themselves headlong into battles worth fighting for, only to be bloodied in the barracks, never making it into the theatre of war. Expectations of setting the world on fire for Jesus are ambushed by the constant sound of fire alarms going off from the flames of conflict within the church walls. Then we sit around in our think-tanks pontificating about why the burnout rate amongst pastors is so high.
So, who’s to blame? The leader for imposing their agenda in the name of God or the church unwilling to change for the sake of tradition and comfort? Maybe the leader is a narcissist, or maybe an influential church member is too. Two narcissists don’t make a right. I would submit both to carry blame. Either way, the warriors never make it onto the battlefield.
Self-inflicted wounds have been the demise of a laundry-list of leaders. Fighting in the battle becomes difficult when you’re continuously aiming for your own foot. The other side of the coin is an abusive church priding themselves on running pastors out of town, tarred and thoroughly feathered. Then there’s the coin itself. Comfortable churches caught up in congratulating themselves on a job well done. This is where the warrior goes to slowly die and hopefully keep making their mortgage payments.
Effective churches thrive in unity around the warrior call. These warrior calls are heard all throughout the New Testament where its authors pleaded with their readers for unity around the mission. Jesus prayed for unity in the gospel going forward. The gates of hell can’t prevail against a church where unity in the mission of Jesus abounds.
If the church is content continuously fighting against itself, the devil need not get involved.
