From We Believe: Week 1(ish)

So, this isn't actually the first week of rehearsal, but it's the first week I've found time to write about it, so we'll call it week one anyway. In case anyone hasn't seen my obnoxious instagram posts, I wrote a play for the student choir over Christmas break called We Believe, and now I'm helping direct it.

Without giving too much away, the play is sort of about the persecuted church, and since we all know that I can't think straight without writing it down first (#WriterProbs), I decided to try and write the pre-rehearsal devotions out and post them here. The theme of the devotions is going to be the persecuted church, but I wanted to go a step further and try to put ourselves in their shoes. To ask not just who they are, but why they keep doing this secret church thing, and how they hold up under such immensely difficult circumstances. 

So, for week 1(ish), the question is this:
 What does "brothers and sisters in Christ" mean to the persecuted church?

I'm afraid that the Western church has become more of a club and less of a family, so I want to get down to the roots and see what we're dealing with here. 

John 13 starts with a bunch of crazy stuff going on. Jesus washes the disciples' feet before they eat the Last Supper and find out that one of them (spoiler alert: it's Judas) is going to betray Jesus. All of them begin to feel that time is running out, and the words Jesus says here are nearly His last words, the last things He believes they need to know before the climax of history takes place.

Then Jesus drops a bombshell; He's leaving, and where He's going is a place they can't follow. Yikes. After all these years and all of the amazing things He's done, He's going to have to go. So what does He tell them next? 

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another:just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."  (John 13:34-35)

Basically, "It's time for me to get to business; don't run out on each other. Take care of each other. You're going to need these guys." On this final night, He tells them to love the church like Jesus Himself loves them. Not only that, but when everything goes down, people are going to know that these guys were with Jesus not by their cool beards or the miracles they'll do, but by the fact that they really love the people around them.  

Jump to Acts, and we see an example of what Jesus was talking about. The followers of "the Way" were gathering together, sharing meals, sharing possessions, meeting regularly, participating in each other's lives. The society around them was confused, and they actually thought sketchy stuff was going on because they just couldn't understand why these people loved each other so, so much. 

Fast forward to modern day, in the country of Azerbaijan.

(This story is from this post on Open Doors's website.)
There's a 15-year-old boy named Shirin living on the streets because his parents forced him to choose between Jesus and his family, and He chose Christ. A Christian man found him and took him in, and soon after his parents were arrested for drug use. Now he's witnessing to the very people that sent him away, and it's because the man that saw him considered him family when Shirin had no one. 

To so many believers overseas who have stories similar to this one (and there are a ton), "brothers and sisters" takes on a whole new meaning. People give up their families for Jesus, and the church becomes family. They care for each other. They trust each other, not just to show up for Bible study, but to risk their lives to meet in secret house churches. The poor have enough because these Christians are living out the Acts church, sharing what they have for the sake of their brothers and sisters and for the sake of the Gospel. 

What if our churches looked like that? 
What if we stopped arguing about the color of the carpet and started encouraging each other in the faith?
What if we stopped spending all our time worrying about who's-dating-who and who-offended-who and banded together as family?
What if we started caring more about each other than about ourselves?

Isn't church as it was meant to be a picture of the Gospel? The orphans have found a home. The poor have been welcomed into the King's throne room. There's no distinction between people because we've all been redeemed and adopted by our good, good Father. 

I don't know about you, but I want to love people like that.