Elevation

This morning I attended Elevation Church in Charlotte with some friends in the area I knew from Clemson. Though only two years old, Elevation is already hitting 2500-3000 people on a Sunday morning. Not having a building of their own, they meet in two separate high school auditoriums at five different times. Walking into it was like taking a trip back in time, back to my junior year in high school, when I walked into New Spring Community Church for the first time. New Spring was one of the churches I attended while at Clemson, and now is about 8 years old, with an average attendance 8500 or so. New Spring was just a few years old then, and probably had about the same attendance as Elevation. From the greeter gauntlet in the entrance, to the t-shirts worn by the volunteers, to the tables in the lobby selling books, cds, and nalgenes, to the ushers with flashlights, to the big projection screens, giant speakers, and blaring bass, everything about Elevation exuded old New Spring. And it shouldn’t be surprising, the 27-year old pastor had been to New Spring before, and apparently based Elevation on it.

The service was similar as well, Christian rock music followed by one adapted hymn, very New Spring style, followed by the pastor’s message. One thing that people really say they like about churches like Elevation and New Spring is the energy. But by energy what they really mean is emotion. The fact is that it’s very easy to emotionally charge people which loud rock music and vibrant speaking. Although Steve at Elevation is not nearly the dynamic speaker that Perry at New Spring is, it works out pretty well for him. I’ve always distrusted emotionally charged services, not that emotion is a bad thing, but without the proper foundation, you wake up Monday morning wondering what happened. Fortunately for both New Spring and Elevation, the foundation is there. The one thing that really attracted to me New Spring is present in Charlotte as well, and that’s complete acceptance of Ephesians 3:20.

Jesus didn’t come and die on a cross so we could pick up our get-out-of-hell-free card and go along our merry way. He came to transform our lives beyond anything that we could imagine, and he has plans for us that we’d never believe. If you’ll read through the New Testament miracles you’ll notice something. The work of God done was always in proportion to the faith that was already extant. You’ll find this same sentiment echoed in James. I firmly believe that the reason God doesn’t work in some churches is because they don’t think he will, even when they ask. This is why the attitude of New Spring was so refreshing. Perry used to always say, “How big is your God? ‘Cause I’ll tell you how big mine is”. This is so key, this is so vital, it is very much something I’m trying to cultivate in my own life, dreaming the dreams of God, instead of mine.

So how do I know the difference? Well I know one good place to start, and it was mentioned by Steve this morning. If you think you can accomplish God’s plan by your own strength, then you’re dreaming too small. Though that idea of accomplishing anything without God is an illusion, if you think you can do it on your own then you won’t think you’ll need God, and if you don’t think you need God then don’t expect to see God act, and if God isn’t acting then what’s the point?

This just blows me away, because the things I’ve been dreaming about recently have just been too small. I mentioned in the last post that I don’t know God’s endgame, and that hasn’t changed. But just because I don’t know what it is, doesn’t mean I don’t investigate into things I think it might be. However it appears I’ve been looking in the wrong place. It’s exciting to think God’s plan has to be something that I can’t accomplish by myself, partially because it takes the pressure off me. This goes back to my first post, the only thing I can do is to do what God has set out for me with all my ability. The success of that, and even my provision, is God’s responsibility. This idea of putting all of my eggs in His basket, of giving up all the things I’ve built around myself for security, and resting solely in his goodness, it’s so frightening, but so exhilarating at the same time. This is where I’m sure Christians are supposed to be.