11 Apr HYC in the Arts: “More Church than Church”

***Disclaimer: I’m a pastor so I’m SUPER in favor of the church; I’m not one of the many Americans that wants Jesus without his bride or as someone said, “Jesus without His fan club.” Instead, the following is a lament that the recovery groups (like Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, and Celebrate Recovery) often catch the essence of the gospel calling of the church better than most churches do.

Notice how the song begins with a hope, a dream, a prophetic and prayerful, “I wish…”

I wish Sunday mornin’ could feel more like Tuesday nights,
Twelve steps down to a basement under harsh fluorescent lights…
All sittin’ in a grey foldin’ chair,
Sippin’ coffee in a white Styrofoam cup,
Ain’t nobody throwin’ stones up in there,
Can’t judge cause we know we all messed up.

There’s a lot of nuance we could miss here. First, there’s a simplicity in most recovery groups like AA, NA, and CR (full names listed above). No fog machines or fancy light shows. There is only a circle of grey folding chairs and Styrofoam cups filled with coffee. Second, the circle of chairs communicates a equality that’s crucial for the recovery group to function in its primary calling of helping people receive healing from the truth. For…

Where the truth is, truth heals, more than the truth hurts,
That’s more church than church.

The truth indeed hurts first. It’s painful as all get out. We can weird. We get defensive. We bust out our favorite escapist tendencies, then when we get cornered and the flight option of fight or flight is no longer an option, then we resort to all of our favorite coping mechanisms. We start to blame or blame-shift.

We start to blame or blame-shift. We start to play the victim.
Or choose your own adventure of maladaptive coping mechanisms.
They all work. Until they don’t.

The truly amazing thing is that the answer is a great deal simpler than many of us intellectual types want to admit. It starts with a simple confession…

Strangers in recovery confessin’, “we are weak,”
Desperate for forgiveness and accountability.

Indeed, it is in our weakness and vulnerability that we find healing and hope (2 Corinthians 12:9). Hug Your Cactus is all about the beautiful paradox which teaches that we need to own our shortcomings and weaknesses to truly gain lasting strength.

Here’s where the song takes a turn for the deep end. When we are in a recovery ministry—no matter it’s form or style—we are essentially doing the ancient practice of confession and absolution. We have so lost this critical ritual that the whole world is trying to figure out a replacement or substitute. The problem is that confession without absolution is just negging ourselves to death. The inverse problem is equally problematic. Absolution and grace without true confession and repentances is just self-help “RAH-RAH” cheerleader nonsense.

We need both. We need forgiveness just as much as we need accountability.

We usually go to recovery for fellowship and accountability; what we’re shocked to discover is “grace upon grace”: forgiveness for hidden places of shame and secrets we thought would never see the light. But, when we find a safe place, our own circle of “grey folding chairs,” we start to realize that we’re not the only one playing hide and go seek, that hiding is something we’ve been doing since the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3).

When we confess our struggles and burdens together, they lose their weight and sting and spirit of impossibility.

So, where is your “church within a church,” where is your circle of “grey folding chairs,” where you can be “rigorously honest” about all of your life, even the ugly and messy parts of life? Where can you join others in hugging your cactus and embracing the messy parts of life in community and not alone?