Support Groups

Have you ever been to a support group? The idea is a little bit laughable to most of us. The show Dexter, the movie Fight Club, and even the musical RENT feature them prominently and comically. (Maybe not RENT, but I sure laughed during that scene.) And of course, there's that horrible group of divorced women from Jerry Maguire that sat around in a circle cackling and crying incessantly about nonsense every time they were onscreen until Jerry's awesome "You complete me" speech finally shut them up.

Some of the small group bible studies I've gone to have felt like support groups. Some of the small group bible studies I've led have felt that way too. I think it's a pretty common Christian experience. You sit in a circle. You share your name, your age, where you're from. And, leaning on that common trust and vulnerability that Christians are supposed to have, you share your secret sins and struggles. And everyone in the circle leans inwards, in an understood choreographed gesture of support, and hands are clasped and prayers are prayed. Or it could happen during accountability. Sometimes in a coffee shop. Sometimes tears are involved, especially if girls are involved.

I was leading a bible study last night, and as we introduced ourselves around the circle, one of the guys said, "Hi, my name is Chad, and I'm not an alcoholic." And it was a pretty funny thing to say, but I wasn't sure what to make of our mens' study resembling a support group.

In a way, it's a beautiful thing. I was reading Don Miller's Searching for God Knows What, and he makes the point that man isn't meant to be alone -- that we need something or someone outside of ourselves to tell us who we are and that we are valued, and if we don't find God to meet that need, we'll go desperately to other people and to society. And I think that's very true, and since men have a tendency to isolate themselves and tough things out, it's a good thing to come together to encourage each other and expose what's going on in our lives. We are broken people, and we have messed ourselves up, and to recognize the commonality and extremity of our predicament is a necessary and good thing.

But the drama of our condition shouldn't be the overarching focus, and I think that's the thing I don't like about Christian gatherings that feel like support groups. In Alcoholics Anonymous, or any other classic, the approach is to "overcome" or "move beyond" a certain condition or disorder, and the means is usually a multi-step method. But there is no 7-step method to overcoming sin, or 3-step method to a great prayer life, or a 13-step method to forgiving-my-divorced-parents. And the war against sin and pain isn't one that we undertake on our own will, accord, or strength -- so there's no reason a bible study or small group should sound like a locker room pep talk, as players and coaches work each other up into an animalistic frenzy and rush out to take the field like warrior-poets and mortify sin. Seriously, you haven't been to Christian gatherings that looked a little like that?

Someone once told me about an accountability group where the guys agreed upon a euphemism for sexual sin, or masturbating: "going to McDonald's." And they would meet weekly and sit uncomfortably in a circle for a while, and then someone would say, "Well, I went to McDonald's four times this week." "Oh, man, isn't it awful. I didn't want to, but I went to McDonald's five times this week." And they'd conclude that sin is really awful, but it's clearly a very serious and attractive thing, and hopefully God can help them out, and I wonder, what really came out of that? Everyone basically told each other that they went to McDonald's. If anything, just the conclusion that if I sin, I have Christian brothers out there who sin too, so I'm not alone in my guilt and shame. I wonder how many accountability relationships are like that.

When the priests approached Jesus and asked Him why His disciples and He weren't fasting, Jesus replied that the wedding guests couldn't fast while the Bridegroom was with them, but they would surely fast and mourn when He was taken away. And I know that Jesus isn't physically here on this earth at this moment, but He has resurrected and defeated sin and death, and He has foreshadowed a reunion with God through our having the Holy Spirit and its fruits, and shouldn't that be a cause for some joy?

I'm not saying that we should fake the funk and put on a happy face. But we should embrace the truth that we tell people we believe. If Jesus has really overcome the world and taken our punishment, then that should be bigger news than our sin and struggle. If Jesus has resurrected, then it shouldn't be simply a question of whether sin can be excised from our lifestyles, but whether our lives can be reconciled with a loving, dynamic relationship with God like they were meant to be from the beginning. If Jesus is our victory, then we have no reason to go through life hanging our heads in shame and defeat. And if we believe that experiencing God is bigger than the story of our sinful condition, then our times of encouragement and support with one another shouldn't conclude with, "Well, I went to McDonald's too this week. Sure does suck, doesn't it."