I have been listening to a podcast for the past few weeks about a church that fell apart. It rose to great heights and then came crashing down almost overnight.
It was started in the spring of 1996 by three men. They began meeting in homes, and then graduated to borrowing space in a local church. by fall of that year they were up to about 160 people.
The next year they began holding two weekly services. Two years later they were averaging about 350 in worship, and in a few more years they transitioned to a multi-site church, with video hook-up at each campus streaming in the sermons of Lead Pastor Mark Driscoll.
Of the three men who started up Mars Hill Church, Mark Driscoll soon emerged as the front man. He was a very gifted speaker, had a strong vision for the church and natural leadership skills. And in the early years, Mark had a good, solid message. He was all about Jesus and what it meant to be a disciple of Jesus. He didn’t seem to think that growth for the sake of growth was what it was all about. In fact he was very critical of some mega churches that he perceived as being that way. Mark wanted to keep Jesus at the center of things and not let it become all about himself. But that changed over time.
Mark liked the power. He liked being the authority. In his sermons he began boasting about the church’s numbers – attendance, conversions, buildings, bank account balances. He enjoyed the success, and the people who attended seemed to enjoy being a part of something so successful.
And then signs began showing that perhaps it wasn’t really all about Jesus anymore. People started speaking up about Mark’s abusive behavior. He bullied others; he was intolerant of dissent. If an elder of the church challenged him in any way, he essentially fired them and decreed that they should be shunned by the church. In his preaching it began sounding like he was telling his congregation that they should submit not to the authority of God, but to the authority of Mars Hill Church and Pastor Mark Driscoll.
It seemed pretty clear that Mark wanted not to serve but to be served. He looked more like a tyrant than a servant leader. It is said that a good governance model can protect the people from a bad leader, while a bad governance model can protect a bad leader from being held accountable. Mars Hill found itself in the latter situation.
At the top of its game, Mars Hill had 12 campuses in four different states, with 100 paid staff. They reported weekly attendance of about 13,000. This was in early 2014. By the end of that year, Mars Hill Church was gone.
This is not a singular tale, of course. There have been others like Mark and there will be more to come. It is the nature of human beings to enjoy power and all its privileges. Even little children show the signs. Power is thrilling, intoxicating. When given the opportunity people are tempted to abuse it.
But what’s more, and what we really can’t turn aside from seeing, is that it wasn’t only Mark. There were thousands of people who just loved being a part of something so big and successful and powerful. There was power just in being a part of it all. They sat in the room and listened to his sermons every week. When he said abusive things, they laughed. When he made veiled threats to his elders, they laughed. It didn’t matter, they liked being on the side of something so powerful.
James and John wanted power and privilege; even after hearing from Jesus repeatedly that it wasn’t going to be like that; that his work would take him not to the seats of worldly power, but right to the cross and the grave, yet they still wanted it. It was like they didn’t really believe him. Or that the lust for power warped their minds.
It’s not that they hadn’t heard about where things were heading. Back in chapter 8, right after Peter proclaimed that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus began to speak about the suffering and death that was to come for him. Peter rebuked him for speaking this way, I suppose because that just didn’t fit into his notion of what the Messiah is. Jesus rebuked him right back and then turned to the crowd and said: any who want to follow me must take up their cross.
It happened again in chapter 9, where Jesus was teaching his disciples about his suffering and death. They did not understand and unfortunately were afraid to ask questions. Then, strangely enough, they were caught arguing amongst themselves about which of them is the greatest. Jesus said to them: whoever wants to be first must be last of all, servant of all.
And once again we see it happen in chapter 10. He tells them again: many who are first will be last and the last will be first. Knowing that they still do not understand, once again he begins to tell them about the suffering to come – in a bit more vivid detail this time:
“See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.”
And right after this, James and John get together and decide the time is right to make their demands. Jesus, we want you to appoint each of us to sit beside you in glory.
They want the power; they want the glory. They want to be at the top of the heap looking down on everyone else, all the losers of the world. James and John believe that this is a privilege they have earned, and they are boldly claiming it.
Jesus’ words in response to them are brimming with poignancy. You do not know what you are asking.
They did not know what they were asking, because they still did not know what it meant to be a follower of Jesus.
The others were no wiser. They got angry at James and John, probably because they would have asked for it themselves if they had thought of it. Everyone wants to be on top. I am strong enough, committed enough; I can drink the cup too. Promote me, Jesus. I want to be your right-hand man.
The church has struggled with this desire for power and privilege all throughout its history. Rather than conform ourselves to the image of Jesus, we try to conform Jesus to something he never was and never will be. We are like fans in the bleachers chanting, “We’re number 1!” Forgetting his words about being last instead of first, about serving rather than being served because it feels incongruous. And inconvenient.
It is usually preferable to serve ourselves rather than someone else. Wouldn’t we rather sit down on the couch in the evening and watch TV or read a book than to go to a church meeting? Wouldn’t we rather go out for lunch with friends than spend that hour serving a meal to the homeless?
Wouldn’t we rather complain about the way others are doing things than to step in and join the effort to make it better? Wouldn’t we rather complain that the church isn’t doing enough to meet our needs than to stand up and say, Hey, I see a problem and I want to be a part of the solution?
It’s just too hard to make a difference, we would rather someone else do that. It’s too hard being a part of a team. Other people might shoot down your ideas. You might have to submit to the group consensus, or else quit. There really isn’t enough glory in it.
And yet, whoever wishes to be a Christian must know this: to be a follower of Jesus is to lift others up, rather than to lift ourselves up. It is to work for the well-being of the whole – especially the weaker parts of the whole. It is to, in some sense, lay down one’s life so others may live.
This fall as we come home to our sanctuary, how is Christ calling you to lay down your life? As we begin to rekindle the life of this church after a harsh and difficult 20 months, how is Christ calling you to serve? How will we join together to be the church Jesus is calling us to be?
