Dear Christian,
You are failing your brothers and sisters in Christ right now, and here’s how I know.
You grew up in a predominantly ethnic Christian church, and lived a privileged and comfortable life, and even though those around you were…
self-concerned (“You want me to help keep you accountable for your pornography addiction? Sorry, I’m just too busy with school, maybe ask someone else”),
inauthentic (“sure Christ loves everyone but making fun of Whites/Blacks/Hispanics/Asians is funny”)
relationally uncomfortable (leader: “who would like to share about their week?” everyone: *goes silent*)
… you didn’t do anything about it.
Your parents and their church peers were friends, but they never had emotional vulnerability, nor shared in one another’s true burdens. Maybe you could blame them for showing you a bad model of Christian relationships, but even then you were a Christian too, and you didn’t choose to do otherwise.
Those who were church leaders knew who you and your family were, and so there were no questions asked when you went through the baptism process. You got baptized and became a church member, but instead of it being a moment of dedication towards your new spiritual family and a heart’s commitment to Christ, it was a moment of individual glory, a decision made from the pressure of others.
And so I know you are failing the church. You are choosing to hide, instead of knowing and being known.
If it sounds like I was calling you out, then we have something in common. What you read was actually just a short description of my experience growing up in my church. Sadly, both my church and I were filled with relational brokenness and a feeling of apathy towards all, opposite of what we see prescribed in Scripture.
Culturally, deeper relationships were unnatural. We didn’t mingle in one another’s lives in any meaningful way, nor did we share one another’s sins and burdens. Sure we would have fellowship dinners, bible study and play games together, but it all seemed like a formality.
And to all these accusations I have, I too am guilty.
I am guilty of neglecting my fellow brothers and sisters.
I am guilty of overlooking their suffering and pain.
I am guilty of prioritizing my own comfort.
I am guilty of being complacent in showing care and comfort.
And I am guilty of all these things, yet not doing anything about it…
I share this because I know I failed. Yet despite my failures, God has brought about a revival of fellowship in my life this past year. This is a product of God’s grace, for He is the one who works to stir this desire for fellowship in our hearts. So if you are feeling let down by fellowship or feeling like the fruits of fellowship have yet to be harvested, look forward to the days ahead because God has mighty plans for us to encourage and grow one another in our walks of faith (1 Thessalonians 5:11).
You get as much as you put in
In my last year of high school, I didn’t particularly enjoy going to fellowship. I felt like I wasn’t being spiritually nourished and I found it difficult to connect with others in the online setting, which often left me neglecting others and simply coming and going on Friday nights. I was directly encouraging an apathetic and spiritually unfulfilling culture…
On my first night of CCF, I found myself leaning up against the wall during POST watching others mingle and exchange social media. While looking at everyone deep in their conversations, a feeling of isolation and loneliness fell heavily on my heart. But in that same moment, an upper year came alongside me and after brief introductions, he asked me about my faith and what fellowship meant to me. I was surprised because previously nobody really approached me to ask or talk about faith outside of fellowship times, which left me indecisive about how I should respond.
I could have totally turned the conversation in another direction, to close myself off and not reciprocate his intentionality. But instead, I chose by my own accord to be vulnerable and to share openly. What came from this was a relationship built upon this common goal of drawing nearer to Christ. This upper year continues to nurture me in my faith till this day — this my friends, is fellowship. Not any of the social events, activities or singing, but the simple gathering between brothers and sisters that are brought together by the Spirit (Matthew 18:20).
Each of us is responsible for the culture we form as a fellowship. If I wanted to get the most out of fellowship and allow God to work, I can’t just sit back and expect an amazing fruitful transformation to come. Rather it is with intentionality and vulnerability that as brothers and sisters we should approach one another even when it isn’t reciprocated, building a culture where we help spiritually nourish one another. If there is no intentionality, no vulnerability and only a lukewarm desire for fellowship, no growth will occur there.
There is a saying that “You get as much as you put in.” What I mean by this is if you are willing to invest deeply into fellowship, you are in a position for God to use fellowship to grow your faith. For me this looked like joining a DG, serving as an SG leader, seeking intentional conversations outside of fellowship times and allowing myself to be discipled and held accountable by fellow brothers and sisters. From my experiences in receiving wisdom, discipline and rebukes from upper years, I am affirmed that God is using the pouring in and out of our faith to sharpen one another so that we might draw closer to the kingdom of God together.
Not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Hebrews 10:25)
Living boldly for Christ
“Why are you acting so Christian, it's kind of weird.” I used to get asked this back in high school a lot, both from my secular friends and even by some people at fellowship. I felt alienated and I would often suppress calling out inappropriate things, praying in public and sharing the gospel with my friends.
If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. (John 15:19)
It was during one of the first sermons at Trinity Bible Chapel that I heard the full gospel again in a long long time. It cut my heart. The gospel, no matter how many times you hear it, is beautiful in its very nature and I was convicted of my lack of boldness for Christ.
As Christians, we are His chosen people. If we are to be set apart, this very nature of alienation should be a joy to the heart, not a burden. I share this because similar to the way we live our faith out in boldness in being set apart, so should the relationships that we have as Christians also be set apart.
Any other club can be a social gathering of people, but as a fellowship we are supposed to be pointing one another in the direction of Christ. Knowing that we are set apart, we shouldn't conform to things that are common in today’s culture, especially in ministering truth to one another.
I am reminded of one late night while I was completely fried, I made an inappropriate joke to my friend and he just turned to me and said “That’s not funny man, how can we say these jokes and say we’re good representations for Christ?” It sucked to get called out and I felt guilty for the things I said, but I was grateful for his rebuke.
Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. (Galatians 6:1)
Loving one another and caring for one another isn’t just giving positive vibes. Rather, if we truly love one another, we should never forsake rebuking one another in truth and love. For it is in this boldness of our relationships that we would allow Christ to utilize our fellowship as a means for accountability to place us back on the path of righteousness.
Genuine care and comfort overcomes suffering
Do you ever feel awkwardly placed? Like when you walk behind two of your friends talking and gradually feel like you shouldn’t even be there in the first place? Well that is how I felt one night after CCF. As I was walking home with two of my friends, we took a bit of a stroll into Waterloo park at night and as they walked in front of me, I felt myself gradually drifting out of the conversation and a thought crept into my mind:
“Why are you even here, you’re just getting in the way.”
and as we passed by my place, I felt our steps slow down and I thought
“They don’t want me here after all.”
For me, my greatest insecurity is being disposed of or being replaced and at that moment I was experiencing it. I felt like I was a nuisance, that I wasn’t wanted. I was left in a broken state, feeling like “what was the entire point of putting the effort into these relationships if I’m not even wanted.”
But in the middle of my darkest thoughts, one of them (an older CCF friend) came back and as we shivered in the cold nighttime sitting on the curb, I bawled my eyes out. And everything came out. My internalization that I wasn’t wanted, that I had no value, that everything I invested into people was meaningless and that ultimately it wouldn't matter whether I was dead or not. Sometimes, the best comfort is found in silence. And in that moment, the greatest thing I was thankful for was his presence which God had provided me.
As I reflect on this experience, I know that each and every one of us is called by God to be comforters, that we would be his hands and feet to extend comfort and love for one another in our darkest moments (Proverbs 17:17). For when we receive comfort from God, we should want to let that spill out onto others and what good is the fellowship if we do not care and comfort for one another (2 Corinthians 1:3–7).
What I will say is that suffering is sneaky; it is tough to notice suffering because more often than not people will respond with “I’m okay.” Therefore, it is so incredibly important that when we do notice suffering and pain in another person’s life we care and comfort them genuinely. This means that we don’t just say “yeah I’m here for you” and call it a day but that we would enter into their lives to be resilient in encouragement and support. And it is through this that we point one another towards the greatest comforter that is Christ. Let us be understanding and sensitive to one another’s suffering, for how can we be complacent towards the suffering of a member of the body if in 1 Corinthians 12:26 it says that:
If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. (1 Corinthians 12:26)
Admittedly, I’m not great at caring for others. I often can’t find the words to say, what wisdom to give and even slip into saying something insensitive. Yet, the best we can do is to simply show that we genuinely care (even simple acts like listening, giving fruit and writing cards can go a long way) and that we want to offer the same tender love and comfort that Jesus gave us on the cross. But even beyond our own words and actions, we must lift one another up in prayer, having hope in knowing that the one who provides peace for the soul is God. His comfort is far greater than any suffering, therefore let us be obedient and:
Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)
So to all my Brothers and Sisters, but especially to those entering first year this fall, I encourage you to make the most of the short time we have on campus. Enter intentionally into one another’s lives, share your burdens, be attentive to suffering and live displaying the same love that Christ first showed us. Let us walk this difficult journey of faith, not alone but with encouragement and support for one another so that God may work in amazing ways through us.
I’m thankful for everyone I’ve met in my short time here but especially to those who have been there during my darkest moments.
Thank you for being my family away from home.
