When Matt and I worked at Id-Ra-Ha-Je, they had horses, I suppose they still do. These were not the "cream of the crop" kinda ponies, we are not talking any award winners here. Most of the horses were old, donations or rescues, many not far from the glue factory. Sometimes all of the above. These horses were not used for hard labor or races, only for taking kids 7-16 on trail rides.
At night the horses were let loose on the property to graze and wander. Some of them spent the evening and nights taking themselves on trail rides. They could walk the meadows, explore the mountains or whatever, but they chose to take the trails they walked during the day to get from one place to another. Like I said, these horse were not the brightest. During the day, not all of the horses were used on all the rides. If they were not corralled when a trail ride left, they would join the line, rider or not. They were the lamest kind of creatures of habit.
Our culture is changing at a fantastic pace. We do not live in the same world we did 200 years ago. Computers changed the world and the Internet changed it again. One thing that has not changed? The church. Sure, we now use drums in our worship, wear jeans instead of dresses, and maybe even use videos to make a point. But we are still the same people, showing up on Sundays, sitting next to our "church friends", standing, sitting, singing, listening to a man we assume knows vast amounts more about God than we do. Come with me to Church! Let me tell you all they ways your wrong and are going to hell because of it...
Matt and I were so excited to read about our current church. It sounded different. It sounded like it had maybe progressed to the point it could reach our culture and speak to the current lost while growing the ones who were ready. We some how ended up on a trail ride. The horses are different but the view remains the same. I am not judging these people. I know it works great for some, many people thrive on the trail. The feel fulfilled and fed.
I look at the trail (or current way Church is done, if you failed to follow my sketchy metaphor) and itch for the meadow. I don't assume the more knowledge the bible equals a better relationship with Jesus. I am over pews, or nicely padded chairs lined up in rows. I can listen to some of the best orators in the world with a click of a mouse, while wearing my jammies and letting my children play or nap. I praise my maker in art, music and expression, and don't have to watch some cheese-ball encourage me to clap. I fellowship with the body weekly, usually while surrounded by little humans munching on (GF) cheerios.
Here is the thing for me, the trail is my default. I don't know what to do when I get to the meadow. Do I bring others? Maybe it is just me who likes it out here and I have no right to jack with what is working for someone else. I don't want to lead this expedition to the vast open spaces, don't follow me, I haven't a clue! I think maybe I am just sick of the view on the trial (unless your the lead horse...). Maybe I don't like the piles I keep stepping in. This metaphor has now reached a point it could get ugly, so I will end this rambling post here.