Is Theology Even Important?

So I just finished posting the transcript of a podcast which describes a missional theology - or perhaps a part of one anyway. And the question that comes up in some conversations is, “Why does it matter?”

I’ve gone back and forth on how to begin a response to this question because I don’t want to sound like I’m going on a rampage against anyone...not today anyway. :)

So I’ll say this. I know many, well meaning people who love God and in whom I see the hand of God at work, who for several reasons find discussions or articulations of intentional theology to be a waste of time. My concern isn’t that they don’t have a theology, because everyone does. Theology is “God talk” - its what we believe about God and what God is up to in this place.

What worries me is that the opposite of intentional theology isn’t no theology, its unintentional theology. A recent conversation with an old friend reminded me of this point. He was describing how an acquaintance recently tweeted about God blessing his new business. My friend noted that this person was already very blessed materially and seems to be content with God continuing to bless him more without any concern for the difficult state of others. My friend made a comment to the effect of, “So why does God care about giving this guy more than he needs when other people have nothing?”

Of course, this is only a sound byte of the conversation. From the larger story, it doesn’t sound like the guy is a terribly greedy person who thinks he should have everyone else’s stuff. However, I do think that there are some consequences at play from unintentional theology. The guy, raised under the “personal relationship with Jesus” mantra seems to have no paradigm for how Jesus’ ministry of reconciliation has anything to do with the plight of others. Jesus came to earth so that I can be saved and salvation is about me going to heaven when I die.

I’ve written and talked about this topic before, so I won’t get on a soapbox. The point here isn’t that this theology is wrong so much as it is that, without thinking through the implications of our beliefs, our practice is effected without us even realizing it.

Here is why I believe it is important for the church - even decentralized, organic churches without the resources to pay “professional” theologians - to take theology seriously. If practicing the Way of Christ is our goal, then we need to be serious about considering the ways in which our beliefs about God and Christ lead to (or away from) practice.

I spend a good deal of time with folks who do not consider themselves Christians. It has happened, and I believe it will continue to happen, that these friends see something authentic in our commitment to God, to them and to one another and are drawn to our community.

I don’t think it is necessary for us to form a Christ Journey 101 class that lays out our written systematic theology. Most of these folks would head for the hills as soon as it was suggested. I do believe that, like the disciples of Jesus, we learn in process, as we go along. Learning doesn’t have to take place in a classroom or through a formal curriculum. That doesn’t mean that it should happen on accident or without thought.

Neil Cole, author of Organic Church, Church 3.0 and several others, is a proponent of rapid church multiplication. In his model, which is highly successful in what it sets out to do, new faith communities are started through an incredibly grassroots oriented movement and spread into new homes and coffee shops like wildfire. Leadership is very decentralized (even more so than in our context) and, in fact, he notes that it is common for churches to be born without any awareness of the church planter who “started” the movement...perhaps just a few months and few blocks away.

He has been asked about heresy in this movement, since there is little accountability outside of the small local group which may be comprised completely of new disciples. His response seems, to me anyway, to be very dismissive. He points out that heresy is more common in highly centralized structures because that is where someone who is seeking power can find it concentrated in one place. Decentralized movements are less prone, in his argument, because these power-seeking leaders don’t have a large group of people to influence. Thus, the leaders may take a small group off in a strange direction, but they don’t have a huge crowd to follow them and the heresy, in effect, dies out.

I see his point, and to a certain degree it makes sense. I’ve seen the way that certain kinds of unhealthy people seem to seek out positions of power to launch empire building schemes...and I don’t think they’d get much satisfaction attempting that with Christ Journey!

And yet, there are a couple major flaws in Cole’s assessment. His assumption seems to indicate that bad theology is the result of a dangerous person with an agenda. That isn’t always the case. Each of us have some levels of bad theology we’re working through and there are scores of well meaning people with unintentional theologies pulling them in directions that move them away from active participation in God’s mission. It is our connection to the larger community, including but also beyond the friends who gather in our living room from week to week, that allows to hold our beliefs AND actions up for discernment, consideration and continued formation.

If the assumption is that people are blank slates and a simple reading of the Bible, with no outside influence is going to lead to healthy discipleship...I think Cole has missed out on the warning of history.

We all have theological assumptions (good and bad), whether we were raised in a Christian church or not. People in the Bible belt may have heard the “personal relationship with Jesus” mantra. They may believe that God is merely a vending machine for all our wants and wishes. They didn’t put money in the machine before because they thought it was empty, but now that they’re starting to believe...its time to find that roll of quarters. I have several friends who haven’t attended a Christian worship gathering in years (and who only went before that because their parents carried them kicking and screaming) and others that have never “gone to church” who, when they do talk about faith, do so in these terms.

My friends who have been missionaries in Africa talk about the difficulty they had in getting African converts to stop worshiping their ancestors. Studies in the history of African missions (and early missions to North and South America) are full of warnings against colonial approaches that simply transplant Western Christian theology, dress and church polity over the old “pagan stuff.” It doesn’t work.

However, the answer can’t be to simply ignore both the old theologies and new ones and just hope something good comes about. We have to think carefully about our beliefs and their necessary actions; every context is cross-cultural and demands that we treat it with respect and careful consideration. We must ask, “What is the Gospel in this place?” That question will get us nowhere if it is a strategic marketing consideration. It is deeply theological. It gets to the very essence of “God-talk.” What is God’s message of reconciliation to these people? Where is the darkness that is pregnant with anticipation for the light? What are the ancient infected wounds that pump toxin into the system generation after generation? What strongholds of the old kingdom are cowering in a dark corner, praying that the Kingdom of Light doesn’t discover their presence?

These questions are not best answered in a lab, by the scholar’s pen or in a seminary classroom. They are answered by the community of light that is following Jesus into that darkness. And they are questions of theology.

My other concern with Cole’s laissez faire approach to theology and discipleship is that it seems to put rapid multiplication of churches ahead of people; ahead of reconciling the brokenness in the world. This seems odd, given that it is a highly relational context that emphasizes the ability of everyone to read the gospel and put it into practice. However, what if, instead of patiently walking with and instructing the struggling early church, Paul had decided, “Meh, they won’t affect that many people anyway.”

This mindset in effect says that if people are led into some unhealthy theology, its their own fault for listening to bad information...and there are a million other bodies to take their place. I’m not sure that this is significantly different from the modern church that sees each family as a “contributing unit.”

Is the mission of God to start new churches or to inaugurate a new kingdom and a new life? If it is the former, then theology isn’t that important. Just organize folks around the Bible, call them a church and who cares what happens next. However, if the point is new life with a whole new paradigm of what’s up and what’s down, then a more intentional process may be warranted. We are learning to think in new ways, spend money in new ways, interact with neighbors in new ways. If just putting a Bible in people’s hands and calling it victory was sufficient, the Gideons would have completed this task years ago. In case you’re wondering, that’s a gross oversimplification for emphasis, and I feel like I should acknowledge that there is a lot to commend in the work of Neil Cole. He is a leader in the movement to reclaim Christianity as a way of life which engages and embraces God's Kingdom breaking into this world...

I think there is still a great need for intentional theology that is processed and discerned in the midst of the community of faith. Perhaps what we’ve reacted to are propositions formed in “the ivory tower” that are passed down to be accepted blindly by the masses. Many of us have a strong reaction to rigid hierarchical leadership that, again disseminates the accepted beliefs everyone must uphold, though from the pulpit rather than a distant headquarter.

However, I think that what we’re struggling against here are forms of leadership rather than the need for theology. We who are attempting to follow Jesus into the dark places are more in need of clear theology than those who see their role as simply filling a pew. When people ask us why we put the grill in the front yard, our answer (whether they or we realize) is deeply theological. That answer says something significant to what we believe about God. We need intentional theology.

And we also need good healthy leadership. As much as we may think we want to, we can’t get away from either. So, on Monday, I’m going to post a few thoughts about leadership. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the relationship between theology and leadership. Specifically, I’ll be wrestling with the common assumption that our preachers, teachers and theologians are the primary leaders in our churches, precisely because of their role as teacher. Is that the best approach?

It may be that our resident theologians help guide discernment as participants in the conversation rather than as the authoritative leader. What if the role of preaching, teaching and theologizing was not where we understood the locus of leadership to reside? What say you?

Reflections

I'm writing the Cultural Analysis section of my Theology of Ministry paper and I've been looking through things I've written in the past (primarily blog posts, papers and journal entries for online classes). I'm trying to find different comments and studies of culture and suburban life since I don't have my books here...

Anyway, I came across this assignment from a class I took while we were in Mandeville. The class, Engaging Contemporary Culture, was meant to help students learn to...never mind, you can figure that out. This particular paper was a part of a series of assignments meant to help us become aware of the things we encounter regularly but uncritically. 

Its interesting to read this because it chronicled an important time in my development - it was during this season that I was becoming aware that God had called me to connect with people outside of the church where I served!

Anyway, I thought it was interesting and worth posting. If you disagree, then go re-read the May quotes on the Wellsbrothers blog...maybe you should do that regardless...

Starbucks in Particular

Mandeville, LA - Fall 2007

A year ago things were very different. Life here was incredibly hectic, harried, stressful, and unpredictable – it was the most insane environment I’d ever witnessed. It is still quite stressful here, but most everything else is different.

We were a church of over 150 and recovering (down from 230 pre-Katrina) – we now run around 100. The lower numbers are due to what can only be described as a church split, but in reality one large, power-driven family led a failed coup attempt, took their toys and left…about 40 of them (we also had several families move out of state this fall). 

When that family left, they took a lot of the “ick” with them – there were literally folks whispering in corners on Sunday mornings, secret meetings that led to ultimatums being sent to the elders demanding the resignation of the whole leadership and the installment of their family members…very ugly. Now, things are pretty quiet. 

There were 3 ministers on staff including myself (I was just a temporary associate minister brought in to help following the storm). The youth minister resigned because things were so ugly and he was tired of getting caught in the middle (among other things of course). Then the preacher left too. Now I’m here alone in a building we can barely pay for, with a congregation full of people who work on the other side of the lake…

So I spend most of my time at Starbucks.

I go to Starbucks for several reasons. First, I don’t care what some “anti” folks say, I think the coffee is really good – it’s considerably better than CC’s – the Louisiana version of Starbucks. Second, I enjoy the atmosphere – the people who work here are pleasant, the music isn’t too loud, the place smells good, they know my name and what I like to drink…it’s enjoyable. But the biggest reason: there are always people here. 

Our church building is empty (when I moved here we were housing disaster relief volunteers – there were between 20 and 200 volunteers in the building 7 days a week) and the phone doesn’t ring often. We’ve got around 10 families in pretty serious crisis right now, so I check in on them. But most everyone else is busy with their lives and I see them on Sunday and Wednesday.

I like studying and preparing lessons around other people. There have been countless conversations overheard that have inspired or helped me with a class or sermon. There have been numerous conversations entered into that provide me with encouragement to continue. And so I go (not everyday, but often), I watch, I listen and sometimes I even talk.

As I find at seat in one of the hard back chairs at the community table (which is what I call the large table with a power strip in the middle…it’s the only table where people feel comfortable sitting down when another person is already there) I usually set up my computer before ordering (grande medium roast, grande non-fat latte or triple-grande non-fat latte…depending on the severity of the need for caffeine). After I get my drink I let the computer “warm up” for about 5 minutes before trying to do anything – it seems to operate more efficiently when I do that…its probably in my head.

During that time I love to see who is there. There is the old guy from Church of the King (the very big charismatic church in town) who will want to engage you in redundant conversations about the Bible if you aren’t careful. I know it seems weird, but I don’t like talking to him – its very difficult to have a meaningful conversation with someone who seems to always either be speaking in clichés or trying to get a fix for how well you line up theologically.

Then there are usually 5 or 6 business folks either having actual meetings or holding meetings over the phone while scanning the internet. Steve has really good stories, but hates his job as a pharmaceutical rep. I like Steve. He always asks me lots of questions about church (usually more logistical and practical rather than theological) and then seems interested enough in my answers to have a conversation. 

There’s also Melissa, who is one of the managers, but I’ve seen her more often this week just coming in for coffee and to talk to the other manager and the employees. They like Melissa. I think they like her because her kindness seems genuine rather than the required politeness of management at an image conscious coffee shop. I saw her in Wal-Mart with her two kids on Saturday – she was nice to me, which is interesting because moms with kids at Wal-Mart are rarely in the mood to be nice. 

I really noticed the ceilings and walls for the first time this week. They’re really layered – nothing is flat. There are multiple sections of drop-ceiling which are all at different heights and each with lights. Then there are hanging lights which are also suspended at different heights. The walls have sections that stick out or are recessed and are several different colors. All of this serves to create a very “lived in” feel – not sterile like our office…I guess that’s another reason I like being there. 

I had never spent any real amount of time considering the architecture of Starbucks – I’d noticed before that they were decorated to feel inviting, like a living room at a really cool person’s house…I don’t know very many really cool people, so I haven’t been in many cool people’s houses, but if I did, I bet their living rooms would look like that.

But the layered effect is really effective. It is interesting what architects and designers can accomplish with space. I wish we took that more seriously in our church buildings – not that we should spend incredible amounts of money on “contemporary” architectural design…but maybe we could at least give “space” a little more consideration.

I felt a little silly, but at one point in this whole ordeal I found myself affected emotionally and spiritually by the stinking ceiling in Starbucks. But I guess that’s the point of this little “exercise” in normalcy...

As I read that post written around the end of a dark, difficult but important time in my life, I am struck by the way that community was beginning to become a controlling theme. Today the understanding of God as the Community of Love is one of the primary lenses through which I view most of what happens in life and ministry. 

Okay, enough nostalgia, back to paper writing!

Living with The Tension

I'm working on a few posts right now. At Rachel's encouragement I'm going to put up a series of posts on our Arkansas trip - basically one for each day. She thinks that will help keep them from being too long...

But I'm also writing another post, a nerd post. These days most of the people who read this blog are Christ Journey folks who don't necessarily understand or care about a lot of the nerdy stuff I wrestle with. So...if that's you, feel free to simply reread the Arkansas stuff!

When I wrote recently on the "Wrath of God" issue, some were concerned that I was getting worked up about stuff that didn't really matter. 

There are a couple important notes to make here. First of all, I'm a bit of a freak. (Surprise!) I don't fit neatly in many categories. For instance, I grew up on a ranch but I absolutely love the DFW metroplex. To be more precise, while I'm learning to love the Fort Worth side (and Burleson in particular); though this is where I was born and spent my first decade (Benbrook) and where I have several family members (grandparents and uncle in Benbrook, other relatives in Aledo, uncle in Burleson...), I still miss Dallas. 

But I'm not supposed to. 

Country boys aren't supposed to like the big city, but I love it. I love all the little coffee shops and bookstores, the libraries, the postmodern young adult crowd in the Village, Deep Ellum and lower Greenville area...even the "uppity rich folks" in Highland Park...well, some of them. 

And yet, I still love cattle, hunting, fishing, camping, kayaking and generally being out in the woods. I wear camo, under armour, express jeans and polos from Banana Republic - often at the same time.

I love playing sports and going to sporting events, but I only watch ESPN occasionally to get updates...trying to follow stats, trades and the drama is tiresome. And I just can't get into Nascar at all. Sorry.

On the overtly spiritual side, I really like sitting in someone's living room and talking about the ways that God is moving in our lives, hanging out around the barbecue pit being neighbors, telling the big picture Story of God to someone who has never heard it before, spending 24 hours in the Chick-Fil-A parking lot so that we can donate a bunch of meals to Harvest House, finding ways to help a struggling young single mom climb out of the clutches of poverty. 

But I also like to read books written by the Fathers and Mothers of the early church - like Maximus the Confessor and the Cappadocians - and discuss the significance of concepts like theosis, the limits of certain atonement theories and the tension between a bounded-set or open-system approach to ecclesiology. 

So my country friends and family think I'm too city, my city friends think I'm too country. My ESPN watching friends find my level of commitment suspect and my book loving friends find my desire to get out and do something physical are equally suspicious. Some people assume that because I'm a nerd, I must need to focus on people more. Others think that because I'm missional/postmodern/post-denominational I probably don't have a well-developed, thought out or robust theology of anything. 

I've had people complain because my preaching is too narrative - they want more exposition of the text. Others have expressed hope that I'll stop worrying about background, history and exegesis and focus on telling stories... alluding to a passage or retelling it in contemporary terms is sufficient. 

Sorry, I like both and see the value of both. I may not be great at either...but not many are. I'm trying.

That brings me to the other issue: while I'm trying to make my blog more personal these days, that has never been my first compulsion for writing. Blogging has always been my setting for working through theological and pastoral stuff in writing. In the past it served as a forum for other students and ministers to struggle in community.

Actually, the theological conundrums I work through are pretty personal - it just happens that personal for me is often found in the struggle to develop more sustainable and consistent theologies - just ask Rachel. 

If you want personal then you're going to get a good dose of this stuff because this is me. 

You are welcome to do the same thing that Rachel does: just smile and nod, then go back to what you were doing before I started babbling. :)

I've written enough of these posts to know that folks often misread my tone - one of the drawbacks of having a dry and sarcastic sense of humor is that sometimes it gets lost in translation. So, let me say explicitly that this isn't an angry or accusatory post at all. More than anything else I'm just revealing the internal struggle I have with not really fitting in anywhere. I'm okay with all that about myself, I'm just trying to help clear up any confusion. 

...and its a heads-up on some nerdy stuff coming down the pipe! 

Theological Worldview Quiz

For all those who've wondered...

You Scored as Neo orthodox You are neo-orthodox. You reject the human-centerdness and scepticism of liberal theology, but neither do you go to the other extreme and make the Bible the central issue for faith. You believe that Christ is God's most important revelation to humanity, and the Trinity is hugely important in your theology. The Bible is also important because it points us to the revelation of Christ. You are influenced by Karl Barth and P T Forsyth. Neo orthodox 79% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 75% Emergent/Postmodern 75% Roman Catholic 54% Classical Liberal 43% Modern Liberal 43% Charismatic/Pentecostal 39% Reformed Evangelical 21% Fundamentalist 11%

Listening From the Hallway

Last week was a really interesting experience for me. I “audited” a grad class at ACU. For those that don’t know, you can sit in on a Bible class at ACU for $35 - you don’t have to take the tests and you don’t get college credit, but you get to participate at learn at whatever level you want.

I received an M.A. in Christian Ministry from ACU in 2005 - that two year program took me 4.5 years since I was also in full-time ministry through the whole thing. A couple years ago I decided I wanted to pursue a D.Min (doctor of ministry) and that meant I needed some leveling work (my MA was a 54 hour degree and I need an MDiv, which is at least 72 hours). I think I’ve taken all the classes I need (I’ll find out for sure in a couple weeks). So I’m currently in a rare season of NOT being in school! (with the exception of a few semesters here and there, I’ve been in college and then grad school since 97!)

So...when I found out that Chris was taking a class on Christian Worship, my inner nerd began shouting. I decided that it would be good to sit in on the class with him so that we could process through the material together. This was a class that I’d wanted to take in grad school but didn’t “need” and never had a free January to squeeze it in.

Overall it was really good. Chris and I spent a lot of time discussing what went on in the class and came away with a few ideas. It was encouraging because we’re already doing most of what we talked about.

One component of the course involved the students (many of whom are full-time ministers) being placed in groups and preparing/leading a time of worship for the class. The two that were the most impacting to me were the first and last of the week. The final group led a lament service that did not in any way feel like a group project - it was one of the most profound times of worship I’ve experienced...certainly at ACU and maybe ever.

The first service impacted me in a very different way. Where the last was powerful because of the authentic and transparent nature of entering into communal and personal lament, the first was powerful because I was unable to engage in such a way.

A few of us had lunch with a professor (not the professor teaching our class) and we were late returning. I, being just a lowly auditor, dropped Chris off and went to find a parking place. By the time I got there the worship had already begun, so I stood in the hallway so as not to disturb (afterall, I didn’t know how nervous the group members were and I could hear what was going on anyway.)

Standing in the hallway during a worship gathering was interesting. I found myself, though somewhat self-conscious (since there were other people in the hallway), engaging at points in the singing and silence. I found myself listening intently to the readings. And yet I couldn’t really engage because I wasn’t fully engaged with the community. I found myself wondering what was happening when I could hear the sounds of movement but couldn’t see what people were doing. There were times when I really wanted to participate with them, but simply couldn’t because there was a barrier between me and everyone else (of course, all I had to do was open the door and go in...but I didn’t). At other times the distance and separation led my mind to wander; I found myself distracted by the things going on around me, disengaging because I wasn’t really a part of the proceedings.

And that got me thinking. How many people sit in the midst of our worship gatherings every week and experience precisely what I was going through?

There are times when they are drawn into the worship but even then they feel uncomfortable because they don’t feel like they’re really a part of the community. There are times when they can “hear the sounds of movement” but don’t really understand what's going on. In other words, because what we do is so foreign to them, they can tell that something significant is taking place but they don’t understand and so feel like they’re listening to things happening on the other side of closed door.

How often do people disengage because they never fully engaged to begin with? And what are we doing or not doing to draw them in and welcome them? I don’t blame anyone in our class for me being outside - it was a choice I made. However, the simple truth is, right though it was, I stood in the hallway because when I approached this worship the door was closed to me.

I was unsure about whether or not I was allowed to open the door and so I stood at a distance.

My prayer is that Christ Journey, and any gathering of Christ’s disciples, will always be aware of closed doors. Sometimes the door is closed for good reason and that means we need to be aware of anyone who may be on the other side of that door longing to join us. What happens behind the door is important and valuable - and so is what’s happening outside.

No Doubt or Know Doubt? pt 2

Rachel is still fond of saying that,“without doubt it isn’t faith, its fact.” And before you think that makes faith less valuable or true, remember that one of the very fundamental fallacies of modern/enlightenment thought is that empirically verifiable fact is the only thing which is right or true. Translation - for the last five hundred years we’ve heard that only things which can be seen, touched, smelled, tasted or heard can be proven or trusted. The whole world, including the non-religious, are waking up from the stupor brought on by this thinking and in a loud voice are calling out for something more. We must stop expending so much energy labeling the New Age, Eastern mysticism and spiritualist movements as something evil and recognize that the world is tired of waiting for Christians to tell them what they need to hear.

There is something real and deep and true beyond the world that the senses currently detect. And sadly, Christians are often too busy attacking spirituality which fails to match our own to be able to say, “Yes! Your impulses are good! Let us journey together.” Having a commitment to the Lordship of Christ does not mean that we must attack and destroy or ridicule and ignore anyone with another commitment.

Unfortunately when we have engaged in this conversation it has often been with a Platonic and Cartesian dualism than from Biblical spirituality. The Platonic way of viewing the universe says that not only are the senses not where all truth resides, but the senses cannot be trusted AT ALL. For Plato everything we see and experience is merely a “shadow” of that which is Real. So we have developed this belief that matter and physicality are not real and are essentially evil. And this is something which the Bible does not affirm.

The certainty of the Enlightenment was based on science and human progress - and we, along with much of the world, say, “Not so much.” Much of the Christian community of last few hundred years jumped on the progress bandwagon. However, what spirituality we experienced has often gone to the other extreme and placed all our eggs in a disembodied spiritual existence. And to this, the Bible says, “Not so much.”

What does all this have to do with doubt and certainty?

When our existence involves both the seen and unseen, physical and spiritual (though I utterly disdain that distinction), faith and reason...it is more difficult to develop and defend rigid systems with black and white boundaries. There are variables. There is mystery.

That doesn’t mean that there is no truth or that we should not hold convictions. It does suggest that we should hold our convictions with humility. It does suggest that we can, in good conscience and good faith, admit struggles and doubt; we can have a sense of solidarity with the skeptical seeker. It does mean that we can question assumptions, and challenge beliefs.

I wonder what that looks like? It can look like secular humanism. It can look like individual cafeteria-style spirituality. It can look like a lot of things which have already been shown to be ineffective.

However, if part of the process of challenging is giving serious consideration to how Christians and Jews throughout history have been formed; if part of the process is remaining connected to community - even in the midst of differing perspectives; if part of the process is listening to the voices (present and past) who with faith in God have asked similar questions...this process can healthy and life affirming.

Is Dr. Beck right when he suggests that injecting doubt into our churches will probably kill them? My guess is that typically it would be pretty difficult to accomplish without viciously pulling the rug out from under folks. And yet we who are engaging in the ministry of planting new churches are often doing precisely this at some level. At least some of us are saying to those we encounter, “I’ve got a lot of questions and doubts too, and my goal is not to eliminate your doubt. I want to invite you into community with other people who are wrestling and also to introduce you to Jesus, the One who is more interested is healing your wounds (and sending you to heal others) than giving you a list of answers (and sending you to convince others).”

Make no mistake, left unchecked, doubt can be crippling. And yet, when a community of disciples is willing to openly and honestly deal with their doubt; to struggle with difficult issues instead of hiding behind platitudes, such a community is poised to experience faith that is never touched by those who refuse to fully engage.

Chatty Cathy's Thousand Word Reply

My friend Anthony left a comment on my previous post asking a couple questions. When my response reached post length I decided to just put it up here! So with that said here's the comment and my reply.

Anthony says:

Ok, I’m a latecomer to this conversation, but thought I’d chime in anyway. I have no time to go finding a bunch of texts to buttress a position, so I will assume that we all share a common general knowledge of the same story. Anyway, I have two questions regarding Bret’s position, which may be completely right, I just have some questions.

1) Is God’s wrath passive — leaving us to the consequences of sin, but without active intervention on his part? “Passive wrath” sounds like an oxymoron.

2) Was the death of Christ necessary? Jesus prayed that the cup be taken from him if there was any other way. Did the Father say, “I could do it another way–but this one shows the depth of our love better than the others”? Or was there really no other way that we could be saved?

My reply:

Anthony,

Thanks for the comment/questions.

First, I wouldn't use the word passive. I for sure think that it goes too far to say that across the board God's response to sin is passive - though I think there is plenty of evidence to show that one response of God's wrath is choosing not to intervene.

We know that for those who consistently choose to live rebelliously God will give them over to their sinful desires...the result of believing a lie is living into that lie. Is that passive? I don’t know that passive is the best descriptor, but neither does it fit the view of vengeful God doling out punishment.

Also, as I pointed out in the previous post, Galatians 6:7-8 says "Do not be deceived, God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life." I've heard it said here that God pours out his wrath on those who sow to please the sinful nature. However, it makes at least as much sense (and I honestly I believe it is more true to the text) to say that God allows us to reap the natural consequences of what we've worked to achieve.

In that way it does seem that the Wrath has a passive component - the wrath is the withholding of rescue that has been rejected.

I do not believe that God's only response to sin is passive/not responding and I don't know whether “passive wrath” is an oxymoron or not. However, at the risk of going more philosophical than anyone wants: if God is omnipotent, to choose NOT to act isn't really passive, it is a significant action.

In either case I believe that God's wrath, be it active or passive or some paradox of the two or something else entirely, is meant to be redemptive. And that leads to your other question.

Was the death of Christ necessary? I'm not sure if that's the right question for this conversation. I would say that Christ's death was necessary - just perhaps not for the reasons we've traditionally held. Taking your hypothetical God to Jesus statement "This one shows the depth of our love better than the others"

I’m not sure but I think you probably meant that as a tongue-in-cheek obviously wrong answer, but perhaps that “argument” would be more compelling for God than it is for us. The deepest display of love may in effect be “the only way” precisely because God IS the deepest display of love.

The question we’re really wrestling with here (or at least that I'm wrestling with) is whether the death of Christ was the only way for God’s irrevocable demand for justice to be satisfied. Or beyond that, is the satisfaction of God's righteous wrath and need for justice the crux of our salvation?

Perhaps we've too narrowly defined what it means to "be saved." Is our salvation merely the satisfaction of God's righteous anger? Who are the players in this drama? Is God the protagonist and humanity the antagonists? Or vice versa?

Are not sin, death and satan the true enemies? Is it possible that we, marred as we are by sin, have perhaps been held captive by the enemy or even foolishly (and often unknowingly) aligned ourselves with the enemy?

There is no other name in heaven or earth through which salvation is available than that of Jesus - this I fully affirm. To whatever degree that sins must be atoned for it is only through the incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus that atonement is made possible. Whatever rescue is available, God has fulfilled it through Christ.

But I still contend that we devalue the true wonder, power and profound love/kindness (chesed) of God by placing such emphasis on penal substitution and God's inability to forgive any offense without the taking of a life.

Many brilliant folks through the years have put forth views of God’s justice and holiness which demand that he have satisfaction. My dissent is not to the position but the degree to which that position is held. I agree that God is righteous, holy and just. I’m not so sure I agree that God’s demand for justice outweighs all else. Why then should Jesus have taught us to turn the other cheek? Why then would Paul have said, “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated?” (1 Cor. 6).

In a previous conversation the response to this was that God’s demand for justice is unavoidable but he shows his grace by sending Jesus as a scapegoat. Okay. That still leaves me with questions of why we then are commanded to forgive. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Do we forgive those who trespass against us by demanding the death of an innocent?

I find little support for saying we are to forgive only once justice has been enacted. And I believe it is a cheap forgiveness indeed to say, “you can forgive them and move on because God’s going to punish them in the end.” There doesn’t seem to be any real forgiveness taking place there. And doesn’t that only work if they aren’t “saved”? Otherwise they avoid punishment - which then leads me to cry out for justice...which I apparently won’t get.

However, if the message is that through ultimate sacrifice we learn to have peace even when justice is denied...

When God incarnate makes the choice to NOT continue the cycle of vengeance and retribution (what if Israel and Palestine could get that concept??) When he willingly lays down his life rather than demanding the justice he deserved. When God made that choice he stepped into the middle of an unending cycle of sin and death and sent the whole thing spiraling in a new direction. Then justice was indeed served when Jesus rose from the dead, vindicated and glorified.

Perhaps our mistake is confusing the issue of satisfying God's wrathful requirement for justice with the issue of our salvation in Christ as though the two were synonymous. We've treated them as such but, again, just perhaps they aren't.

Perhaps there have been many things throughout history which have appeased God's wrath - sacrifice, repentance, a broken and contrite heart and faithfulness to name a few. But perhaps our salvation is about more than that. Perhaps our salvation, found only in the power of Christ, is the restoration of God's Kingdom; the defeat of the enemies of sin, death and satan; the healing of wounds; the end of death; our transformation into fully human creatures, once again bearing fully the image of God without blemish or scar. And perhaps wrapped up in that is indeed the appeasement of God's wrath...but its wrapped up in it, it isn't IT. Only the power of God could accomplish all that - there is no human effort or sacrifice possible beyond the fully human and fully divine sacrifice of Jesus himself.

Yes, I think that the death of Christ was necessary and I think it was much more valuable than just a penal substitution.

Anthony, I don't know if answered your questions or just used them to launch into another tirade.

If nothing else, I think its clear that I don't buy into the Calvinist/Reformed determinism theology. I've received a couple questions asking, since I'm obviously not very Augustinian/Calvinist in my persuasion do I consider myself Pelagian or Arminian or something else. Most of the 3 people who read this blog regularly either don't know or don't care what that means, but I will post a reply to that question in the near future.

Telling Better Stories

Some of those who have responded to my previous post on the wrath of God (primarily in person or by phone) seem to have understood me to say that God is not concerned with sin or that there is no response of wrath.

I understand how they could come to that since my first post on this subject was intended primarily to pull our focus away from the satisfaction of God's wrath as the primary purpose of the cross. I made a case against this perspective not because I don’t believe it has a part in this story, but because for so many of us it has been the ONLY part of the story that seemed to matter.

I do believe that sin and injustice matter to God. I believe that violence and oppression certainly bring about the wrath of God; my friend Luke pointed out the story of Sodom and Gomorra...another good example would be the plagues on Egypt. I have said before, and still believe, that mercy taken to an extreme is injustice to those offended.

I believe that our obstinate desire to continue in sin when faced with the Truth of God, is something which does bring guilt and potentially wrath.

I’d like to talk more about what that means. When we read about the wrath of God being poured out or threatened to be poured out there are two basic categories: 1) evil and violent cultures/people groups and 2) God’s chosen people who continue generation after generation to refuse to worship God alone; who fail to be the people they’re called to be.

Notice that if the evil communities - such as Sodom and Gomora or Egypt - would have repented, then God would have withheld his wrath. Look at Ninevah - Jonah preaches the worst sermon in history and boom, the whole city repents and then, double boom God relents. No sacrifice needed to appease his wrath other than the sacrifice of a broken and contrite heart.

Regarding the wrath poured out on God’s people - a story which is repeated throughout Israel’s history - let’s not forget how often they were given the chance to repent and turn back to God. The message of Jeremiah was that God’s wrath would come in the form of exile and control by a foreign power unless the people turned back to God. God’s wrath was NOT inescapable, it only came about after repeated refusals by His people to listen.

I’m not arguing that Jesus’ crucifixion didn’t serve as the final sacrifice for sin - I think that is absolutely part of what happened. However, I believe that it is false to assert that God is bound by his justice to require a sacrifice and therefore that must have been the primary reason for the cross. If God is bound to satisfy justice, then God is subservient to justice...we should worship justice because it is more powerful than God. But God is love. Love certainly involves seeking justice for others, but love also forgives offenses against itself.

I believe that there are some serious holes in the position that God is bound by his justice and so the pouring out of his wrath on someone (be it on us or Jesus) is central to his nature. While God is certainly just, God is not subject to anything - if so then, again, we should worship that. It is not okay to say that God IS justice and thus he is bound by himself. First of all, while Scripture says that God is just (an adjective) it does not say that God IS Justice (noun) - we’re told that God is Love...not Justice.

One response I’ve heard to this is that love must be just. Love certainly contains a component of justice yet it is also filled with mercy, long-suffering, forgiveness and grace.

Substitutionary atonement fails to acknowledge God’s longstanding history of offering forgiveness to those who have offended him without requiring the taking of life. Hosea 6 reminds us that God “desires mercy, not sacrifice.” In that passage God, through through the prophet, is urging his people to turn back and acknowledge him - they had ALREADY broken their covenant with God and thus justice demanded that they be put out. The entire point of Hosea’s life and ministry was that God is not bound by this expectation of justice. God is willing to set all that aside if his people will remember and return.

Isn’t that precisely what we are called to as well? Paul confronts the church in Corinth for their insistence on getting justice when they’ve been wronged: “The very fact that you have lawsuits among you means you have been completely defeated already. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated? (1 Corinthians 6:7)”

Demanding justice for yourself does not seem to carry the same weight as demanding justice for the weak and the oppressed (assuming you aren’t the weak and oppressed). God is the One who speaks up for justice on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves and yet where God is concerned he extends mercy and forgiveness.

When God is finally forced to pour out his wrath, he tells the people he will not remain angry forever - God’s wrath is redemptive rather than merely retributive (thanks Nate); God’s wrath is a means rather than an end.

How does Jesus describe God in relation to our “lostness”? Well, most of us are familiar with the three parables of lost things. The lost coin, lost sheep and prodigal son are important parables where Jesus stresses heavily the nature of God - hence three similar stories in quick succession. In these stories we find not a vengeful God of righteous wrath, but a compassionate caretaker, shepherd and father. The shepherd does not require the sheep to be sacrificed and the father does not require the son to become a slave - apparently being lost was punishment enough.

HOWEVER (Galatians 6:7) "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” God does take sin very seriously because sin is a component of the larger brokenness that plagues all of creation - a creation that is beloved by God and which God is even now working to restore and heal. Sin, brokenness and evil are true enemies of life, if that is what we sow then that is what we will reap.

What if that is what the wrath of God really is? Eventually God allows us to remain in the lostness we brought on ourselves. It isn’t that God brings about some vicious torture because his sense of honor has been accosted. He invites us to return but if we continue to refuse; if we continue to willingly sow evil, then how can we not reap destruction?

This shift in understanding does is not devalue the damage of sin or the need for a Savior. However, it does demand that we recognize how we’ve made sin the point for too long. Sin is only the point if our genesis (beginning) was in Genesis 3. But the fall of humanity is not the foundation of this story, the point is the power of a good creator God speaking all things into existence and being very pleased with his good creation (Genesis 1). The point is that this God desires to be in close communion with that which he has made and he will cross any chasm to rescue us from death.

Sin is a character in this story, but it is not the main character. The wrath of God is a potential subplot, but not the climax or the resolution. The wrath of God is no more central to this story than not failing a class is the central reason to study in school or gaining nutrients for physical survival is the primary reason to share a meal with friends.

God is a just God; he demands justice for those who are oppressed and he will not allow those who continue to defy him to remain unpunished. But God IS love. God is the One who is at work in healing broken lives and restoring damaged relationships. This is the central message of the cross - a new power and a new kingdom are available. No longer will the oppressive regimes of this world define power. The Kingdom of God is at hand, it is for everyone and it has a whole new definition of life.

The barriers have been torn down; the enemy has been vanquished and the invitation to enter into life has been given. This is not primarily about a loan shark collecting a debt, this is about a father running to meet his child on the road. Falling on his knees, kissing and embracing his beloved, putting rings on fingers and coats on shoulders and throwing a feast to celebrate the restoration of the father’s broken heart.

That is a much better story.

The Wrath

I realize that contemporary evangelical Christianity is heavily - if not primarily - influenced by Calvinist and Augustinian assumptions about the total depravity and sinfulness of humanity, the justice of a wrathful God and the need for penal substitution which is the primary purpose and accomplishment of the cross of Jesus. With all that said, I know that this post will not sit well in such a worldview. But I’m okay with that.

The Wrath of God is a central point found in the “substitutionary atonement” view of what Jesus accomplished on the cross. For those who don’t know what that means, it is the understanding that our sin has caused a deep and tragic gap between us and God. Because He is completely pure and holy, God cannot stand to be in the presence of sin and impurity therefore we cannot enter God’s presence. Because our sin has caused such great offense to God, we are deserving of death and only a sacrifice at the level of God himself taking our place could satisfy the debt we owe. And so Jesus Christ takes on the sin of humanity and by his sacrifice we are ransomed (the debt of sin is paid).

Let me say that this is ONE way to explain what happened on the cross and while it is certainly a scriptural position, this is just part of the story and there are other equally scriptural ways to understand what took place. I will state up front MY BELIEF that while this understanding is biblical and is an appropriate description in some settings, there are other explanations which are equally biblical (meaning they are found in scripture) but are perhaps more central to the overall message of the Bible.

Recently this issue came up on a friend’s blog and another commenter defended the position strongly. He provided a list a scripture references defending penal substitution and even made the statement that there was no reason for the cross other than to appease the wrath of God. In fact he believes that “any attempt to diminish the importance of the penal substitution of Christ diminishes God’s holiness and wrath, as well as the wicked depth of human sin.”

I’d like to include the main sections of my two responses. I haven’t asked the fellow for his permission so I’m not going to include his comments. Let me say that while I disagree with his position, I appreciated his willingness to dialog without resorting to name calling or personal attacks.

The act of the powerful Christ emptying himself in the face of violence and sin - not fighting fire with fire, so-to-speak - is a powerful way to understand what took place on the cross. Through Christ’s response to evil we are given the ability and model to do likewise. We do not have to respond to evil with more evil - we can show the expression of true love and willingly lay down that which is temporary to enter into that which is eternal.

The Cristus Victor theory, which has its own limitations, declares that through the cross Christ was victorious over the enemies of sin and death. Christ entered fully into the grasp of the enemy and then in an undeniable display of superiority, brushed himself off and walked away - effectively showing the enemy to be impotent.

For a people (Israel) who were expecting the return of a Davidic King and the restoration of the nation to a position of prominence, the cross holds yet more significance. Jesus was certainly the promised Messiah and yet he behaved very differently from the manner in which Israel anticipated. Rather than leading Israel in a grand military coup, Jesus showed them - and us - how to die. More than dying so that we don’t have to, Jesus died so that we would know how to.

There is no reason, from the perspective of the cross, to view substitutionary atonement as even the primary expression. Again, I don’t intend to discredit the theory, yet those who choose to approach the message of the cross from the perspective of victory, freedom, healing and love can do so with a clear position of scripture and the history of the church to support them.

Then after conceding that it is possible to construct a list of valid texts to provide a biblical case for substitutionary atonement (not unlike the lists that one could put together for other atonement theories) I went on to say...

However, we also could look at larger trajectories in scripture and see that God’s wrath is rarely the point…it is often the last ditch effort of gracious creator engaged in every imaginable tactic to get the attention of his unruly - but still beloved children. You pointed to the suffering servant in Isaiah - if you continue reading through to chapter 58 you’ll notice that what God desires is mercy, not sacrifice. Appeasing the wrath of God through sacrifices, at least here, is secondary to showing grace, mercy and compassion - because this is the type of God in whose image we are created.

I won’t argue one bit that the wrath of God is an important and recurring theme in scripture, but I am far from convinced that it is the primary message...Personally, I’m going to say that talking about reconciliation doesn’t have to always be a message about “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” And I do not see in any way that God’s holiness is diminished by that - and I find it interesting that we should even feel compelled to put God’s wrath up next to his holiness as preeminent descriptors. I’ll argue all day that it is perhaps more central to the overall message of Scripture to say that “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.”

Of course this quote is from Exodus 34, where God came down and proclaimed his name to Moses. You’ll notice that the rest of verse 7 says, “Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished.” I affirm that truth and yet also put it secondary - as the text does - to God’s compassion and graciousness.

There’s more that I could say about this topic, but I’ll stop for now and see if anyone else has something to add.

Toward a Theology of Youth Trips

I have replaced the original text of this post with the rewritten version that was published on Matt Tapie's blog, Two Cities, in December 2005. I have changed this post because in addition to the critique against youth ministry that it was intended to raise, some felt it was an attack against a particular group of people. Thanks.

Some of my friends think I don’t like youth ministry. I’m not sure how they came to that conclusion. Sure I don’t like lock-ins (does anybody actually like lock-ins?). I don’t like babysitting. I don’t like ski trips. I’m not a big fan of shaving cream wars or even water balloon fights—I always have to clean up the water balloon shrapnel. I don’t really enjoy many contemporary Christian rock, pop, or Praise-N-Worship bands, and I like going to their concerts even less. I don’t like ski trips.

I’m not a fan of the 5 minute “devo talk” unless it is given by a teenager…those I’m usually proud of. I don’t like using acrostics unless they’re really good, and most are not! I don’t really like marshmallow object lessons. I don’t necessarily like putting together trips to Six Flags, though I do like riding the Titan. But I don’t like water parks at all. Did I mention that I don’t like ski trips?

I don’t like the “initials” language of instant messaging: rotflol…jk! I can’t stand people telling me that I have to have at least four mediums for communicating messages to teens because they don’t have the attention span for a serious conversation. And I don’t think I should look, think, talk and act like a teenager.

But what would make them think I don’t like youth ministry?

In truth, none of this stuff has anything to do with actual youth ministry. Unfortunately, many people (including some youth ministers) don’t realize that. I’ve talked a lot lately about the paradigm of youth ministry that comes from parachurch organizations and has presented itself, in many ways, as a social club or latch-key program for teens. So as someone that speaks out against this approach, I think it’s important that we discuss our theology.

Why do we need a theology of youth trips?

By necessity there are various hats that Youth Ministers must wear. Some of these hats look “religious” while others appear to be more social or administrative in nature. However, this is a false distinction. All aspects of our ministry can and do have a profound spiritual impact. Having a theology of youth trips, in part means that in our role as “program director” we must begin to dismantle the thought process that has led us to assume that attendance is the best indicator of the efficacy of trips, camps, and retreats.I know of one fairly large congregation in an urban setting which has struggled recently with the development of a healthy summer schedule. In an attempt to put together a summer calendar that is low stress and low maintenance (not necessarily a bad thing at all) they have decided to send the kids to a camp at a Christian college where they will be intentionally separated from their youth group and put in with kids from all over.

I know the folks who run this camp and think very highly of them. I understand their philosophy and appreciate the creative way they are introducing young people to new Christian friends. However, this camp is not for this group of kids. These kids are naturally fragmented because few of them even go to school in the same district. They are fragmented even more because their youth minister has left. They are isolated and this camp is going to allow them to withdraw spiritually and isolate even more.

Choosing a camp simply because it is easier on the adults is spiritually irresponsible.

While I doubt that there are many situations where the situation is that cut-and-dried (it certainly was not that simple in the situation referenced above), I believe it is true that our unspoken, unrealized, unexamined motives can endanger the health of a program in significant ways.

I’ve also known of some summer camps that exist more for the adults than the teens. These are often staffed by a group of volunteers who’ve been going out to this camp for years and years and it has become their vacation…much like a timeshare at the lake.

Tradition is great. I love the idea of taking teens to a camp that has a formative history with their congregation or family. However, often these can become a “good ole boys” club and when this happens the spiritual formation of the kids may well play second fiddle to the adults’ enjoyment.

As is true for any group or organization, a camp which forgets its purpose, regardless of how fun or popular it may be, is going to at best have a diminished formative impact.

And then there are ski trips...

Would someone please tell me how spending $600-$1500/person taking a group of over-privileged kids to a posh ski resort has anything to do with the kingdom of God? Maybe you’re from a small town with poor country kids who’ve never been farther away than grandma’s house. I know there are some groups like this. You raise the money and make sure that everyone who wants to go can, and it is a great experience. Cool. But now you’ve done it once and that makes it tradition, so you go back the next year…and the next.

Soon you’re raising $1000 per student every year. There’s no budget money to do service projects unless those projects are raising money for Colorado. Oops. Well, it’s still a bonding experience that they’ll never forget. Right?

Then there are the groups of kids in the big city that plan the trips as well. They decide not to spend their efforts on fundraisers (you know, we need to have time for things like service projects, right?). Instead they just decide that they’ll make monthly payments of $150 for 6 months leading up to the trip. It’s okay that only some kids can afford to go, because if the group gets too big it’ll make the trip more expensive and that wouldn’t be very responsible would it? So in the end it’s the kids whose parents take them to Europe in the summer and go to Aspen in the winter…on a church ski trip.

Yes, I know, that was a vicious little soap box. But the truth is that we can build community just as easily in a Habitat for Humanity project. If it’s a rare experience you’re after, serve the poor somewhere. There’s nothing wrong with doing exciting things and having a good time, but can we really look in the face of the homeless man we see while in vans on the way to the airport to go be ski bunnies for a week? Please understand that this is not intended as a guilt-trip for a trip that has a recreation purpose. It isn’t the planning of a “fun” trip that is bothersome. It is the elevation of the “fun” trip to the key position in the roster. We communicate a very specific and dangerous lesson by spending three times as much money on one self-centered adventure than on any two other experiences.

We need a theology of youth ministry because without an intentional plan we run the risk of leading unexamined lives through an unexamined ministry. Perhaps more accurately, we need an intentional theology to combat against the dangers of unintentional theologies.

Intentionality is Vital

What type of person and what type of community are we forming with our youth trips? A community that believes spirituality is an individual thing, perfectly healthy in isolation from the local church? Someone who sees church as a place for them to live out their fantasies of being in charge and getting their own way? How about a nice materialistic consumer who believes that the church exists for their entertainment?

It’s been said that “it’s a sin to bore a kid with the Gospel.” Maybe, but isn’t it an even more damaging sin to teach a child that the Gospel exists for their entertainment?I believe that our trips should be an extension of that in which we've engaged throughout the year. Each trip should be carefully chosen with an outcome in mind. Questions we must consider include things like:

What type of community are we forming with this activity?
What type of person do we want to form with this trip?
Is this trip contrary to our mission?

These questions must be asked early in the planning stage and we must have the courage to respond when we discover a beloved trip that is forming something other than a faithful disciple of Christ. This doesn't mean that there is one camp that we should all be attending - I don't have a sales pitch for the latest and greatest. The camps that may be most beneficial to the rural youth group of 20 kids - those who were in diapers together and have been in the same school together for 12 years - will not be the same events that benefit a suburban conglomeration of teens who barely know each other.Regardless of the specifics, in each situation intentionality of spiritual formation is needed. We cannot afford to be haphazard anymore. We don't have enough time with these young people and they are no longer growing up in a Christian dominated society where they'll be discipled by osmosis (if that world ever really existed).

Just the Beginning

Youth Ministry is at a crossroads. I am convicted that the Holy Spirit is calling me to a long term focus on church youth ministry. When I was dismissed from a congregation because the position of Youth Minister had been eliminated I received a wake-up call. That decision communicated something important. Those things I listed at the top of this post have been what so many churches have wanted from youth ministry - they don't even know there is an alternative. And yet many churches are realizing that these ministries aren’t producing the desired result. I pray that the Lord will raise up leaders to take responsibility for helping the church mature in its understanding of our responsibility to young people. It is way past time for us to develop an intentional theology of youth trips…and youth ministry for that matter. This is not intended to serve as the final word on the topic. Rather I hope we will begin, restart, or re-imagine this conversation in community rather than isolation and move intentionally toward spiritual maturity and Christlikeness.