In my Infant and Childhood Development class, my teacher told us about some college students who had a pet monkey.  The monkey just lived in their house with them.  He would watch them cook and do homework and take naps and do chores.  The monkey would watch the guys go up to the sink and wash the dishes and then put them on the drying rack.  One day, these guys walked into the kitchen and saw the monkey imitating them.  The monkey would take a plate, scrub it, and put it on the rack.

His name was Nim Chimpsky, named after a developmental psychologist. Image source: http://detritusreview.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html

But when they took a closer look at the dishes, they realized that they still looked disgusting.  This monkey was imitating these guys, but he had lost any semblance of the reason they would go through this ritual.  And even though the monkey would do it himself, it was pointless.  The dishes were still dirty.  The monkey’s imitation was an incredible feat.  But he missed the point.

In church, it’s easy to feel the pressure to do the “what” without knowing the “why.”

It’s what people are often afraid to admit:

I’m supposed to read my Bible every morning.  But what am I supposed to even get out of it?

Or, I love Jesus — don’t get me wrong.  But I don’t know how to pray for five minutes, much less an hour.  I never feel like I’m hearing from God.  How can I pray effectively?

Or this one.  I have this attitude quite often. I know that Jesus calls us to share the gospel.  I see people walking around on the streets and it crosses my mind that they are destined for Hell… and I kick myself when I refuse to tell them the knowledge I have, that they could accept Christ right now and go to Heaven when they die.  I feel so bad when I don’t share the gospel…  But then even when I try, I always mess it up anyway.

This leaves us feeling no more alive and saved than we were before we accepted Christ.  Because there are brothers and sisters around us who are asking, What’s wrong with me?  What am I missing?

No wonder we’re frustrated.  No wonder we’re weak.  We’re exhausting ourselves going through the motions of cleaning the dishes, and we have nothing left to show.  We reward people for doing “Christian” stuff.  But are we really teaching them how to be disciples?

One of my friends told me yesterday that he’s afraid to ask questions at Christian get-togethers because there is so much pressure for him to know everything already.  It’s like, either you know all the really big answers, or else you don’t love Jesus.  Or if you still have questions, it means you aren’t saved.

God doesn’t want us to feel this way.  He wants us to be bold in being ourselves.  If we believe something firmly, we are to live it out.  Why?  Because that’s what Jesus did, and He is our model.  And if we aren’t sure about something, but then we act on something just because everyone else is doing it, we’re going to miss the point.

No matter how much people read their Bible and pray and go to meetings, if they aren’t experiencing relationship with Christ, it’s useless.  I’ll bet that there are people like this in your midst, starving at the table of a King, wondering why everyone seems so delighted and why he feels like he has to put on an act just to be accepted.

Church is supposed to be a place where we are free to be ourselves before God.  Where we are free to be imperfect.  Where we are free to sort things out.  Free to get angry and cuddle and take risks and cry and do stupid stuff and praise the Lord as we figure out what it looks like to be a child of the one who hand-picked us and rescued us from the orphanage.  If we can’t do that here, where else can we do it?  We’ll be forced to find counsel in the world.

So when we come to the table, let’s come with acceptance.  And let’s stop being paranoid that people might realize that we’re imperfect and broken, and actually kind of like music other than David Crowder.  Not everybody will be hungry.  Some people will not like the food.  But the purpose of the meal isn’t to be the one who enjoys it the most, who takes the most food.  The goal isn’t to be the most spiritual or the happiest, because that’s just plain greedy.  The purpose is to bring the family together to just be a weird little family, all in one place, bringing their bad days and bad attitudes and bad dreams to the table, and somehow, through the process, finding that they are satisfied.

For those who know what it’s like to have clean dishes, to be completely satisfied at the table: Don’t heap up shame on the monkeys.  Don’t alienate them.  If anything, they need more support from us, not less.  The King feeds us with love and grace.  But we have not come to the table to judge people for having a stomach ache, or having a bad day, or not being very talkative.

For those who feel like they’re just going through the motions: Take heart.  Don’t give up.  The dishes must still be done.  But rest your tired monkey arms for a while and watch a little closer.  Don’t be afraid to ask why.  Everyone starts falling back into ritual every once in a while, and it would be a good challenge for your friends’ faith anyway.  Your questions aren’t a burden.  They strengthen the church and force us all to mine deeper into God’s treasure.  We need you guys, and we’ll be weaker in the absence of your challenging questions because we’ll get comfortable.

When everyone sees this monkey cleaning dishes, it will be quite a sight.  We’ll question our own potential and realize that we are all little miracles.  Don’t underestimate God’s power to transform church culture, to transform even your heart that just doesn’t quite understand… yet.

The same power that raised Jesus from the dead lives in all of us.  Even when it’s hard for you to believe in Him… He believes in You.  He is the one who wired you the way you are, and with His grace that removes the bondage of sin, you are absolutely free to be you.

God does not make mistakes.   He makes me and you.