Small Groups

Ever talk to a person who wants to accomplish something, but doesn’t want to put in the hard work necessary to be successful at the given task? I’ve seen it in a variety of places. When I was a coach I would have at least one athlete each season who wanted to be the best, but was only willing to put in mediocre work. Sometimes, the kid was actually a pretty decent athlete just from the mediocre work. You know, one of those people blessed with natural ability. But natural ability only takes you so far. I remember one athlete telling me, “I’m good enough, coach. Nobody’s beaten me, yet.” And then I had to point out that tiny word with huge implications: yet. It wasn’t too long after that conversation when that athlete found himself struggling to catch the other runners in a huge meet.

I know the frustration of wanting to be better than I am at something. I know the frustration of knowing that it will take a long time and a lot of hard work to improve. Over the last couple of years I’ve embarked on a long journey of learning to play the guitar. It’s frustrating to know a few chords, strum a few songs, get my fingers to finally twist and bend the correct way at the correct time (sometimes painfully), and still sound as bad as I do. And I know the frustration of turning on the stereo and hearing that amazing guitar solo that seems so effortlessly produced. But I also know the reality that the soloist spent a lot of time and energy to create that “perfect” solo, and he did so after years of playing guitar.

Sometimes I think it can be easy for us to look at how we think our small group should function: amazing communication, deep relationships, incredible spiritual growth. And I know how our small groups actually measure up– mostly falling somewhere short of that ideal. I know that sometimes our groups seem to produce more conflict than resolution. People somehow offend one another or their personalities just clash. But that’s good. Well, it’s not good for sustained periods of time. And it certainly doesn’t feel or look good at the time. But conflict is part of the process of getting real with one another. Conflict is necessary and natural for growth to occur. Where there’s conflict there’s opportunity for growth and conversation. Conflict creates an environment for discussion. When people are journeying together, conflict is an unavoidable necessity that provides opportunity to get closer to the ideal. And this is certainly better than a roomful of people just pretending that things are “good”, faking the peace and never getting real with one another. So, don’t shy away from conflict. Don’t try to avoid the unavoidable. Granted, you don’t want to create it unnecessarily – it’s probably a bad idea to try and get your small group members into a fight. But chances are it’ll happen on its own, and sometimes you may need to bring it to the surface. But when conflict arises, use it as an opportunity for going deeper, for getting real, for talking about reconciliation and humility and sacrifice and service and love and forgiveness. It’s like the hard work that will getting you running faster or playing better as a small group.

There’s something about going through a challenging or difficult experience together that can’t be manufactured. If you talk to a veteran of any war about the guys he served with in combat, you’ll soon discover that there’s an almost inexplicable bond there. They’ve been in the trenches together. They’ve seen and heard and experienced things that only people who’ve been in war can relate to and understand. There’s a similar phenomena that occurs with people who have survived a disaster together. If you talk to people who were holed up in one of the local restaurants near the Twin Towers on 9-11, or if you chat with the people who were on the plane that landed in the Hudson recently, or listen to the stories of survivors of the Nazi death camps, you’ll see that they have a bond with others who went through that experience with them. There’s a common story there that only they know the full weight of. There’s a common experience there that binds them. There’s a common emotion that pervades those conversations.

But this bonding experience doesn’t just come with trauma and disaster. It can and often does accompany joyful experiences, too. Just ask those who remember the moment they heard that the Japanese surrendered in 1945. Ask the Obama supporters who attended his acceptance speech about the atmosphere in Chicago that night. Ask the Bear fans about who they were with on that glorious January day in 1986 – but please don’t ask us about that disappointing day in February of 2007. Ask high school students about their experience at CIY or their mission trip. In all of these you’ll hear it in their voices and see it in their eyes. There’s that common shared experience. And you’ll likely hear that common phrase: “You just had to be there.” There’s something powerful about sharing an experience that’s out-of-the-ordinary. There’s an almost mystical sense of bonding that occurs.

What if our small groups could create some shared experiences that bring with them the deep bonds, and then capitalize on them. What if our small groups went beyond gathering in a home and sharing some laughs and watching a DVD and eating some snacks? What if they went beyond social dates and football games and comfortable and casual encounters? What if our small groups served together in the trenches and really gave themselves something to talk about, something that when others hear them talking about it they have to say, “You just had to be there.” What if our small groups could create glimpses of the divine; sacred experiences for small group members that hint at the profound “others-centerdness” that Christ modeled for us? Obviously we don’t want to do this only. That would be exhausting and overwhelming. And we certainly don’t want to neglect the social gatherings and the more commonplace group study in the home – as those are sacred moments in themselves. What we’re talking about here is adding to them, about taking our studies to the next level with application and action. Creating experiences that put the lessons into practice and challenge us at our core, leading to life change and transformation.

What if our small groups served more regularly? What if your small group served more regularly? What might it do for your members? What might it do for you? What if your group served at the bread line, raked neighbors’ leaves, invited non-churched friends to a barbeque, visited patients in the hospital, dramatically read stories to nursing home residents, collected coats and toys for underprivileged kids…What if? The options are pretty endless. Admittedly, sometimes the costs are pretty steep. But then again, the rewards are usually pretty amazing. As we head into this next ministry year I’ll be challenging you to take your group to the next level in a variety of ways. One of those is with service experiences. I’ll be providing you with ideas for service opportunities at various times. And when I check in with you and your group members, I look forward to hearing you say, “You just had to be there.”

I’ve been reading Brennan Mannings book The Ragamuffin Gospel this summer. In it he offers some great insight on grace and faith and being real with God. It’s refreshing to see a married alcoholic Catholic priest display such raw humanness and genuine faith. He doesn’t hold much back. He allows his readers into his story, without pretense or condition. His work reveals the power of transparency – his story is messy and broken. But that’s what makes it great. We’re all like that to some extent. We’re messy, broken, dirty people who are in the process of being redeemed daily. We’ve all got baggage. We’ve all got skeletons in the closet. We’ve all got issues. We’ve all got sin. BUT, we’re all under grace and so we all have freedom and life and purity and forgiveness and value and love and mercy and community.

This is the tricky part. I think we often forget that other people are messed up, so they’re going to frustrate us sometimes because they’re not perfect. And just as often we forget that our own lives are pretty messy, too. So we’re going to frustrate others. And I think this is all compounded when we remember that we’re dirty and sinful but forget that others aren’t any better. It complicates things, doesn’t it, when we feel like we have to hide our sin or pretend to be “better” than we really are? But listen to what Manning says in his book:

“The way we are with each other is the truest test of our faith. How I treat a brother or a sister from day to day, how I react to the sin-scarred others, how deal with normal people in their normal confusion on a normal day may be a better indication of my reverence for life than the antiabortion sticker on the bumper of my car.”

Our faith is played out in how we treat others. In how we offer them forgiveness and grace. But also in how we offer them the respect and trust to deal with us fairly. Our faith is played out in how we are willing to share our stories and our hurts and pains and fears and failures and victories and joys and hopes. When we get to this point of letting other people in, not too soon so as to scare them off, but little by little, then we can really share life together as God has intended it and watch redemption and restoration happen right in our midst. When we share life together in this way, raw and uncut, then life becomes full. This is the power of small groups – having a close group of people who share the journey with you and who you can let in, trusting that they’ll shine some light in your darkness and that you’ll do the same for them.