"Authenticy". Everyone talks about it (in US evangelical circles anyway). They try new "ancient" experiences, like candles, incense, pillows, and rusty nails, in the name of being "authentic". (Ironically, I actually enjoy many of these sensory experiences.) What makes me uneasy is how many search for an "authentic" worship experience through the transformation of their surroundings... the exterior.

First century Judaism was already 2000 years old during Jesus' lifetime. Ancient sights, smells, sounds, textures, and wisdom, thoroughly saturated every millimeter of it's existence. And somehow, the ones who were most saturated with this "ancientness", were, according to Jesus, the ones farthest away from "authentic" worship.

Sitting in the basement of a 1960's First Baptist Church with a styro-foam cup full of bad coffee, depending on the hearts of who is there, can be the most "authentic" worship imaginable.

The other evening we were sitting in a living room. No coffee. No music. An energetic two-year old ran around us. It was a "regular" small group.

As we discussed the subject of spiritual warfare, I noticed something. I noticed how people began their sentences.

"When my son died..."

"When my husband died..."

"When my wife left me..."

"When my son died..." 

Despite our ordinary surroundings, this "regular" group was extraordinary. This group was baring its heart. They had been there and back again... and weren't afraid to talk about it in the most profound ways imaginable.

Sometimes between tears, one speaks of the difficult path he has walked over the past 2-3 years.  Another looks him in the eye, praising God for His goodness through incredible pain. A third responds with a renewed passion for God's glory in our community.

These have resisted the temptation to curse God (or others), and are living out Psalms 30:11. Their hope is firmly grounded in the work and person of Jesus Christ... the one who died, understanding their suffering; and rose again, destroying the effects the very death that has caused them so much pain.  I only pray that when hardship comes, God will allow me to follow in their profound, "authentic", footsteps.

These people are my heros.