Island Syndrome
Two of the most influential people in my life have recently walked away from the Church. Though these two men have never met each other, they have both left for the same reason. Both men honestly believe the Church in their city has taken its eye off the prize.
One of these men taught me the Bible in such a way that I used to leave his classroom jumping like a Bull Terrier, 12 inches underneath a steak and kidney pie.
The other guy took me into his family when I was 19 years old and inspired me to start a student church movement in Scarborough without an atom of fear. He taught me the beautiful lesson of risk taking and persuaded me to search for life in all its fullness.
When I think about these two great leaders spending Sundays on their own, I feel two things:
Grief stapled to Anger.
I remember the moment they both told me they were pulling their lives away from the Churches they had led and served for decades. They spoke for hours about serious disagreements and horrible disillusions that had plagued them week in week out. They had been hurt, betrayed and often persecuted by the congregations they had given their lives to.
During both conversations my reaction was pretty much the same; I shook my head, cried like a boy who missed a penalty, and urged them to have more patience with the Church. As a last ditch effort to keep them inside, I reminded them both of what God was doing through them and how their qualities injected life into their Christian communities. During both conversations their reaction was pretty much the same; they smiled, told me how proud I had made them, and quietly confirmed they had made up their minds.
Unfortunately, since the Apostolic movement of the early Church, Christianity has seen an exodus of men walk away for a hundred and one different reasons. Admittedly, some of these men became disillusioned with the message of Christ, and the seeds of faith that once brought them great joy, become starved and desolate.
However, a lot of these men left because they could no longer draw a parallel between their personal walk with Jesus and the vision of their local Church. During my nine years of being a Christian, I have watched this condition infect men across the UK.
Vicars dotted all over England and Wales have told me about men of great faith, oozing with leadership potential, retreating from their Christian community. I call this condition Island Syndrome. It is when the thought of being a Christian on your own becomes irresistible.
Because these two friends of mine were decades older and three stone heavier than me, there was no way of beating them into changing their minds. And though I can see every reason they had to leave their seemingly backward, half-hearted, often predictable local Church, we need to be reminded of the truth;
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the most holy place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10 v. 19 – 25
Unfortunately, though I have only been a follower of Jesus for a short space of time, I have seen Christian men become bible cowboys many times. And when a cowboy falls off his horse, he is so far from his brothers and sisters, the joy of his salvation is usually the first thing to die. Then its a bitterness that sets in before faith itself starts to morph into scepticism.
Whether we like the church or not is irrelevant, because we need to her to keep our faith alive.
We need her to pick us up when life throws us off the horse. Let us not give up meeting together, even if the quiche and weak squash leaves a lot to be desired.
