Once upon a time, deep in the heart of the Treasure Valley, lived a family of squirrels. Sheltered in the strong branches of a giant oak tree, they enjoyed the “good life”, gladly sharing a plentiful supply of acorns and a fresh- water spring. Although gathering food took a great deal of work and enduring the winters was difficult, these happy critters had a sense that this was how things ought to be.
One spring morning these country squirrels were awakened by the screaming of chain saws and the rumblings of a bulldozer. It seems a visionary developer had devised a plan that would bring "improvements" to the area. Architects had designed a huge mall that would surround the great oak, incorporating it into a beautiful courtyard which would be covered with enormous skylights.
The building process was unsettling at first, but soon they became accustomed to commotion and, eventually, adjusted to the many changes. Now the climate was milder, the food was different, and they had much less interaction with nature. Their beloved acorns were regularly swept up and disposed of, but now there was caramel corn, salted peanuts and milkshakes a-plenty. And, the trash bins were gold mines!
Years passed. Now, younger squirrels rolled their eyes as grandma and grandpa squirrel chattered about the good old days. They talked about acorns, fresh water, and warm sunlight, but everyone knew they had over-active memories. Two generations lived and died in this new man-made environment. Due to the mild climate and unhealthy food many of squirrels were sickly. Because of their confinement, they were always on each other's nerves. They often wondered about the meaning of life; what was the purpose of waking up, eating garbage, and watching frenzied shoppers rush by?
Then, one glorious day a daring squirrel escaped. Curious about the bright skylights, he jumped from an upper branch of the tree to a pole. Climbing the pole he came to a ceiling beam which took him to an air vent. Slipping through the vent he plopped out onto the roof. What sensations accosted him! Dazzling sunlight, warm, fresh air and new vistas overwhelmed his senses. Scurrying down a rain gutter to a parking lot, he dodged traffic and darted into the undeveloped woods nearby. For hours he roamed, discovering nuts, acorns, fresh water and healthy squirrels.
Thrilled with his new life, he retraced his steps and breathlessly told his peers of the wonderful “real” world outside. They laughed, declaring, “That kind of world doesn’t exist any more!” Disappointed that they would not believe, the squirrel quietly slipped back out into life - as it was meant to be.
Once upon a time not long after the Day of Pentecost, some Christians were having church like it was meant to be. But then developers came along. “Progress” was made. Creeds were written, rituals were developed, and soon the climate seemed to be a little more controlled. Eventually services were planned to the smallest detail, politically incorrect doctrines were carefully altered, action was taken to make the church more culturally sensitive, and institutions and procedures were established to insure that all interaction with the real spiritual world was carefully buffered by "the church". No longer were people challenged to pick up their crosses. Money or good works became the means to forgiveness rather than godly sorrow and repentance. Baptism was redefined and being Spirit-filled, Spirit-led, and Spirit-controlled was considered a thing of the past. Now, coming to church was simply entertainment or a social event. Soon, nothing more than obscure references to real Christianity survived. Christians became emaciated and sickly.
But occasionally some brave soul will escape back to the original. (see the book of Acts) Upon doing so, their spiritual senses are overwhelmed with God’s love and power. Their lives are drastically changed. Of course, others often laugh or persecute them. Nevertheless, Christianity - like it was meant to be - can still be a reality. Maybe you should slip out and take a peek.
One spring morning these country squirrels were awakened by the screaming of chain saws and the rumblings of a bulldozer. It seems a visionary developer had devised a plan that would bring "improvements" to the area. Architects had designed a huge mall that would surround the great oak, incorporating it into a beautiful courtyard which would be covered with enormous skylights.
The building process was unsettling at first, but soon they became accustomed to commotion and, eventually, adjusted to the many changes. Now the climate was milder, the food was different, and they had much less interaction with nature. Their beloved acorns were regularly swept up and disposed of, but now there was caramel corn, salted peanuts and milkshakes a-plenty. And, the trash bins were gold mines!
Years passed. Now, younger squirrels rolled their eyes as grandma and grandpa squirrel chattered about the good old days. They talked about acorns, fresh water, and warm sunlight, but everyone knew they had over-active memories. Two generations lived and died in this new man-made environment. Due to the mild climate and unhealthy food many of squirrels were sickly. Because of their confinement, they were always on each other's nerves. They often wondered about the meaning of life; what was the purpose of waking up, eating garbage, and watching frenzied shoppers rush by?
Then, one glorious day a daring squirrel escaped. Curious about the bright skylights, he jumped from an upper branch of the tree to a pole. Climbing the pole he came to a ceiling beam which took him to an air vent. Slipping through the vent he plopped out onto the roof. What sensations accosted him! Dazzling sunlight, warm, fresh air and new vistas overwhelmed his senses. Scurrying down a rain gutter to a parking lot, he dodged traffic and darted into the undeveloped woods nearby. For hours he roamed, discovering nuts, acorns, fresh water and healthy squirrels.
Thrilled with his new life, he retraced his steps and breathlessly told his peers of the wonderful “real” world outside. They laughed, declaring, “That kind of world doesn’t exist any more!” Disappointed that they would not believe, the squirrel quietly slipped back out into life - as it was meant to be.
Once upon a time not long after the Day of Pentecost, some Christians were having church like it was meant to be. But then developers came along. “Progress” was made. Creeds were written, rituals were developed, and soon the climate seemed to be a little more controlled. Eventually services were planned to the smallest detail, politically incorrect doctrines were carefully altered, action was taken to make the church more culturally sensitive, and institutions and procedures were established to insure that all interaction with the real spiritual world was carefully buffered by "the church". No longer were people challenged to pick up their crosses. Money or good works became the means to forgiveness rather than godly sorrow and repentance. Baptism was redefined and being Spirit-filled, Spirit-led, and Spirit-controlled was considered a thing of the past. Now, coming to church was simply entertainment or a social event. Soon, nothing more than obscure references to real Christianity survived. Christians became emaciated and sickly.
But occasionally some brave soul will escape back to the original. (see the book of Acts) Upon doing so, their spiritual senses are overwhelmed with God’s love and power. Their lives are drastically changed. Of course, others often laugh or persecute them. Nevertheless, Christianity - like it was meant to be - can still be a reality. Maybe you should slip out and take a peek.
(many thanks to Pastor John Hanson for the content of this blog.)
3 comments:
That reminds me of an article I just read in Charisma magazine:
Why Isn't the American Church Growing?
by Kevin Turner
Revival is not when the top blows off but rather when the bottom falls out." Those words were spoken to me several years ago when I asked the late Leonard Ravenhill to define revival. According to him, most religious activity in the United States does not resemble true revival. We know only a cheap imitation.
We schedule popular speakers and the best musicians and set aside a week for special meetings. We call that revival. Our meetings are set up by organizers, not agonizers.
We have reduced a move of God to a method. Yet the Bible says God is looking for a man.
John Knox, the founder of the Presbyterian Church, prayed continually, "God, give me Scotland or I die!" He said this while he was chained deep inside the hull of a French ship off the coast of his country. He prayed desperately for seven years that God would send revival to his beloved Scotland.
God works only within those who are desperate. Ravenhill also used to say, in reference to revival, that we would either "end up with prison camps or with Pentecost in the prison camps." The apostle Paul either had riots or revival, and at times both. Yet the American gospel does not seem to produce either.
A Chinese Christian recently visited the United States and toured churches here. At the end of the trip he was asked what he thought about American spirituality. He answered, "I am amazed at how much the church in America can accomplish without the Holy Spirit."
We have large buildings and many programs but still no move of God. We have more trained ministers and more Bible colleges than any other nation but no revival. We have seminars on revivals and huge campaigns to promote our meetings. But where is the revival?
We have spotless theology but no doxology. We have no song in our hearts. We have replaced true experience with hyperactivity. Our theologians sit in swivel chairs in ivory towers and hand out edicts to those down below.
As a church we are power-hungry and covet top positions as if we are climbing a corporate ladder. We place value on large churches with even larger programs and budgets. Those who are invited into leadership positions are the rich and the influential. We forget that spiritual authority is not given to the savvy businessman or the sports hero but to those who have carried the burden of the Lord.
Where are the brokenhearted believers who weep through the night over our spiritual bankruptcy?
A true move of God makes you utterly dependent upon Him. The touch of the Father was never designed to touch you just once. It was designed to leave you feeling helpless unless you receive the daily infilling of the Holy Spirit.
A true revival brings us to the end of ourselves. It takes us to the foot of the cross where we lay down our hopes, dreams and ambitions. History is replete with those who have given their all to see God move.
You know, I have been a Pentecostal Christian for about 14 years and I was eager to listen to the older people talk about the tent revivals they were accustomed to. How I wish that opportunity was there for the taking.
We are so organized not just in our church lives but our own personal lives. I really wonder if the opportunity of a tent revival was to come about, would I really commit myself to it. Would I truly wait upon the Holy Spirit to move or would I keep looking at my watch and saying I have to get up early. Would I be willing to pray heartily for someone night after night or only give one out of the 7 days to the tent?
I do wonder what I would do. But, I wonder more if I will ever get that opportunity.
Church growth is good, for Jesus had many people sit and listen to him. But the glipse and the hoopla was never present. How simple of a time to hear and hear the word. Could we really do that?
One wonders ~~ Shari
Sales Pitchs and Shows are interesting to watch, but for decades I've wanted to be immersed in the real thing. I've read and listened to reports from poor countries, some with oppressive governments, usually over seas and wondered why we don't have the real deal here...In the near future we quite possibly will have the right conditions (true poverty on a large scale and an empowered, oppressive, immoral government)...maybe then...
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