The Community

I preached this sermon originally in 2009. In its initial form it began with a shorter version of the poetic retelling of the story of creation, fall and redemption. This rewrite was an assignment for the class I took this past January. The intent of this message is to remind the hearers/readers that Scripture is telling a story we’re all struggling to hear naturally and to call us to share that meaningful story of belonging with others.

Before the beginning there was Community. God, the Community of Love, whom we refer to as the Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit had a perfect relationship of mutual love and respect. This isn’t to say that there were three gods - there is One God and this God is the essence of Love. Love neither exists nor is it expressed in isolation, it is expressed in community. This God, this Community of Love was not incomplete, the Trinity was and is the fullness of completion. Community needed nothing, Love lacked nothing. Love was eternally expressed within the Community of the One God in Three Persons.

While the Community of Love was not incomplete, neither is God static. The nature of True Community is expansive. It is dynamic. It is always growing and bringing into itself everything around it. The relationship of the Community, being rooted and established in a deep indescribable love, felt compelled to create. For that is what love is and what love does, it continually creates expansive opportunity for love to be expressed.

So God, the Community of Love, created. God brushed away the darkness, stepped into the midst of chaos and brought forth solid foundations. God molded and formed an unbelievably expansive and expanding universe, and then, in an inconspicuous section of all that began to paint with beautiful strokes a landscape that was begging to be enjoyed.

God walked in the garden she had created. She knelt down and from the same material that formed mountains, deserts and jungles; the same material that made up the fish and birds and lions and bugs, she began to mold something new; something that would see and know and laugh and love. She began to form something that would walk with her, that she could teach and love. She formed out of herself - using her own image as a mold and model.

This new thing God was making would be the pinnacle of everything God had created. She would be able to point out the sunrise and this new thing's breath would catch; when a thunderstorm would pass through this new thing would come running to God for protection; he would hold this small creature and explain that everything would be okay.

God formed this living being. He breathed his own life into this thing. The Community of Father, Son and Holy Spirit - the relationship that was full, complete and needed nothing - invited these new small frail children to share this powerful community. And it was so very good.

God could have formed these creatures without the ability to choose their course. That was a decision that God made with the stars and planets and mountains and streams. None of these had been given the freedom to choose - planets and moons are in their orbit and have no ability to decide to do otherwise. Mountains are tall and strong but they will never think, "I want to be a valley now." Gravity does not consider whether it will influence objects or not.

This decision allowed the universe to be orderly, but it also ensured that no planet would ever decide to write a song about the Father. True, God created great beauty in the planet, a beauty which is itself a kind of song, but it isn’t a song that the planet created in response to its Creator. In humanity, God has created something which is able to create as God creates - not on the same level; neither as equal nor rival, but as something which understands, as God does and because God does, that when love is present beautiful things result.

The children could not be like the stars or the trees, they had to be able to choose.

Some say that God was disobeyed and so his wrath was stirred. I think its much more sad and tragic than that. The Lord had created these children to live in the trusting, loving relationship that she enjoyed as herself; God had created room for the Community of Love to be experienced. In the moment of choice, the creation rejected both Community and Love. The course of the Story was altered from its intended trajectory.

This crisis was devastating and cataclysmic, but it would not have the last word. It WILL not have the last word. Even in the midst of great crisis, when Creation rejected the relationship of love and community and instead launched into selfishness and isolation...The Creator continued going to his creation. He called a man named Abraham and made a covenant with him. The Lord God blessed Abraham and promised that through him all peoples on earth would be blessed...in fact, all of creation would be blessed.

As the children of Israel continued year after year to cycle through seasons of confusion and clarity, The Lord kept going back to them seeking to restore and reconcile community with her creation. He patiently taught and corrected and reminded and invited and urged and groaned and pleaded. The Community could not stand to see creation languishing in isolation.

The sending relationship with great leaders and the inspiration of great prophets continued until the Community of Love decided that ambassadors would no longer suffice. Once again, God would walk in the garden with his creation. Once again the missionary God sent himself - which is the nature of true love and true community. And Jesus the Christ walked among us.

Jesus gathered a community around himself and continually invited the broken, overlooked, forgotten and oppressed to rejoice because the Community of God was at hand; it was here and they were invited in.

When the time came for Jesus to return to the Father, the Spirit was sent. The Spirit wasn’t sent to wander aimlessly. She came to form and cultivate community in the Church in anticipation of experiencing Community on earth as it is in heaven. The Spirit called for the community of believers to be sent to the ends of the earth; continuing the ministry to which Jesus had dedicated himself, continuing the ministry to which God had called Abraham, continuing the ministry which God initiated in the first garden, continuing the Act that began in the beginning, continuing the character of the One who was Community before the beginning. The missionary God who sends herself as Love has sent us in like fashion...

We see it everyday in a thousand ways. Walking down the fluorescent lit halls of our high school, they’re there...whispering, judging, huddled together like the impenetrable phalanx of Spartan warriors. Enter any public space: a bar, the mall, a dark alley...even most church buildings and there they are again. Notice your friends, yourself even, and perhaps you will recognize with astonishment that they are still present...even in the mirror.

Sometimes they give themselves a name and go to battle against other theys - sometimes with tanks, sometimes with machetes and assault rifles, sometimes with stolen firearms and knives, sometimes with words.

They are us. Humanity. Struggling to find meaning and belonging in the midst of a deeply scarred and broken world. Whether we’re talking about nations, religions, factions, gangs, fraternities or cliques the dynamic is the same. We long for connection and as I once heard someone say, “when we’re dying of thirst we’ll gladly drink water we know is poisonous.”

The story of Scripture - our story - reveals that this longing is natural, it was placed within us in the very act of creation by a God who exists in community.

We miss the power of the Story when we make it about rules and retribution, about medieval honor codes and penal substitution. We miss the story altogether when we make it about justifying our desperate groupings’ existence at the expense of another’s.

The Story is about the God who created out of love and is compelled by that same love to heal, reconcile and restore...The Story not only explains the origins of our longing, but also describes the landscape of those longings fulfilled. The story gives us a hope-full picture not only of an alternative vision of existence than that in which we currently dwell, but also of the lengths to which God is going to make that existence a tangible reality...on earth as it is in heaven.

This is a story worth telling. It is the story we long for...it is the story that yearns to be told. It is the story that sheds light on and deserves to replace every tale of mangled attempt at connection. It is the story that explains why we will kill to belong to a group...and calls us instead to die in order to find true belonging.

And because the story so deeply important, it is not a story that can be controlled and retold merely by a select few. It is your story, it is my story. We each have a unique translation and we are each called to share this story, through our presence and through our proclamation, with those we meet as we go along.

The Missionary God who sends Godself as Love has sent us in like fashion.

Snowmageddon 2011

The Ticket (AM 1310) dubbed it “Snowmageddon 2011.” A record-breaking 3-4 inches of snow in a select few parts of the dfw metroplex which mercilessly ground productivity to a halt on the morning of January 10. You could almost hear creation groaning as the temperature dipped to a startling 31 degrees. Who could have predicted such a devastating occurrence?

It took 2 hours and 20 minutes (that’s 8,400 seconds) to travel 18 miles from I-20 to SMU that morning. When I made it to Dallas County by 7am, I hoped I’d be okay. Yet, as soon as I saw the cars literally parked on the Hwy 67 overpass, I knew there was no hope.

I had to make a snap decision (survival situations of this magnitude require quick thinking). I knew that this decision, much like a shipwreck survivor choosing whether to seek shelter or remain on the beach, could be the difference between life and a slow, miserable death. I knew what I had to do.

I would have to resign myself to being late for class.

Once the decision was made, my surroundings immediately appeared less hostile. I realized that the glowing eyes in the bushes were just a curious raccoon, the large shadow monster was a tree blowing in the wind and the strange sound snapping twigs was probably just a chupacabra...

I’m not livestock, so it probably wouldn’t attack me and drain my blood.

I realized that that the millions, nay billions, of similarly stranded travelers were also in the process of making, or not making, similar decisions. One man angrily got out of his company van and began raking the snow from his hood as though each handful were a dreadful Communist deserving of such treatment. The veins sticking out in his neck and newly discovered color of red on his face were indicators that he had not chosen wisely and death was setting in.

A young woman in a Jetta was dancing (all the more impressive because she still had on her seatbelt) and singing along with her powerful Volks Wagon stock stereo system. Somehow she also reached deep into her inner well of talent and found time (while still dancing) to check facebook on her iPhone...funny what you can see when traveling at a blinding 5 mph. While the veins in her neck were in remarkably better shape than the poor dying man, I hope the addition of facebook didn’t come back to haunt her.

A couple middle-age women in a Nissan Sentra were engaged in a lively conversation, their laughter nearly audible over the relaxing sounds of my AM sports talk-show. I was glad for them that they were not stranded alone. A companion completely changes these survival situations. Plus, their carpooling was saving the environment even while the environment was trying to destroy us all. Good for them.

The young man in multi-colored car I couldn’t identify seemed to like the Jetta-Facebook-Dancing-Queen’s idea of listening to soothing music...however, as he sang along his face did not look very peaceful. I think it was some of that angry music. To each his own, I guess.

Then there was the elderly man, gripping tightly to his steering wheel. He didn’t seem to mind how slow we were going, in fact, I think it suited him just fine. This situation wasn’t going to be tough for him to weather...Way to go sir!

Another lady was quite upset when a 15 passenger van decided to move over and share her lane - didn’t our parents teach us that sharing was a good thing? I could actually hear her screaming at him over the sound of her horn. Odd to watch. A little like watching that guy get run over by the snail-paced steamroller on Austin Powers.

Interestingly enough, the driver of the van seemed to have much better manners. He just smiled and waved, as if to say, “I forgive you for saying those mean things to me.” What a great guy.

In addition to these noteworthy travel companions, there was another terror traversing our wintry hell-scape. There were zombies. Actual zombies driving motor-vehicles. I’ve seen the movies, I know what to look for. Glazed over eyes staring into nothingness, unnatural movements attempting to mimic the routines of live before death. And of course the unquenchable hunger for brains. Admittedly, that one's a little harder to notice until they come after you...but I’m sure it was there.

These zombies didn’t look around, didn’t smile and didn’t frown. They were just shells of their former humanity. I was impressed that they still had the fine motor skills (get it?) to start and stop their cars’ forward progress without hitting the vehicle in front of them. But there was no life in their eyes...just an empty stare.

Victor Frankl, a Jewish prisoner in the WWII Nazi death camps said in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, that the one thing our captors can never take from us is our ability to choose how we will respond to our situation. No one can make us angry at the traffic (or the snow on our hood), that is an ability that resides solely within. Our ability to choose our response to a situation may or may not impact our survival, but it will certainly impact the time we have until our end is realized.

I wonder how often we mindlessly hand over this power to the situation? When we abdicate our God-given ability to respond, very rarely are we rewarded with a healthy perspective from our captors - be they human or circumstance.

Without an intentional process of introspection it is likely that we will continue on auto-pilot at best. And yet Paul, through the example of Christ, teaches us that even in suffering we can choice to rejoice because we know (among other things) that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character, hope. I pray that today we will fix our eyes on Christ so that Snowmageddon or whatever ill lies around the next corner, will have no power over our response. Hopefully it will protect us from the zombies too.

To Lead or Not to Lead.

Recently there have been a number of conversations floating around the internet and blogosphere regarding the issue of leadership vs discipleship. It isn’t always couched as a competition...sometimes its just about whether or not leadership is Biblical at all.

The points are well made (for the most part) and highlight the dangers of taking on the dominant culture’s understanding of power and leadership. I get that. However, I remain thoroughly unconvinced that we should do away with the concept of leadership. The following was my response to one of the more healthy of these conversations. Surprise, surprise, my response ended up being too long to post in the comments section...

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John Perkins says that the response to bad leadership isn’t NO leadership, its good leadership. I tend to agree. For Perkins, good leadership is characterized by following Christ well (healthy discipleship) in the midst of community (check out Follow Me to Freedom, which he coauthored with Shane Claiborne).

This posture of leadership allows us to remain alongside others as we follow Christ together, but also recognizes that some people have an apostolic calling: they take risks and step out on faith while others are waiting for someone else to step first. I know the answer we often give is that Jesus took the first step. That’s true, and for most of us in this conversation, who have that apostolic gift, it seems simple enough. Trust God. Follow Jesus. See the good you’re called to and go do it.

But not everyone has that same risk-taker personality, and not everyone has that prophetic imagination. That isn’t to say they’re less committed, less called or less anything. But those with the gift of prophetic imagination are called to help others begin to picture what life could look like if get swept up in God’s advancing Kingdom. This doesn’t have to be the top down, power driven leadership we see in corporate America. I’ve read the conversations you mentioned above and I appreciate the critique of putting a Jesus t-shirt on the business model and calling it Christian leadership.

However, I’m concerned about where we end up when we completely eschew leadership. In a sense, it is its own form of elitism because it basically makes Christianity something that only the risk takers and self-starters can participate in. That’s a bit overstated, I know, but I don’t think we need to get into an either/or battle with leadership and discipleship. Both are necessary. Without discipleship, as has been pointed out, we have another business organization replete with power dynamics, coercion, manipulation and a continued favoring of the wealthy over the poor and insignificant. This is bad. We must not allow this to continue.

Without leadership though, we may end up with a loosely connected group of individuals, some of whom are involved in great discipleship experiences while others are wondering what happens next. We may miss out on the synergy and cohesion of a truly vibrant community of faith held together by a shared mission (communitas).

I agree, good leadership should be marked by person(s) who have been discipled well and are currently engaged in discipling others. Good leadership should also include the willingness to step out in faith and ignite the imagination of others to do the same. When we have no leadership our discipleship risks becoming increasingly individualized. The role of a good leader includes helping the group continue moving together.

Leadership can never serve as a replacement for disciple-making. But unless we want to declare the church useless, as some have chosen to do, leadership is still an important part of our group dynamic. It helps us function as a community of disciples who are joined together by a larger mission. A mission that is much larger than our personal salvation, larger even than our personal discipleship experiences.

We’ve seen bad leadership often enough that many of us want to distance ourselves from it. I COMPLETELY understand. But when we abdicate our calling to lead others we can (I’m speaking from experience) begin to resent them for not responding to that leadership vacuum by stepping up and leading themselves. In other words, we resent them for being themselves, rather than being us. Not only is that not fair, its incredibly arrogant.

I appreciate this conversation and I realize I’m responding to way more than what has been said here. I hope we can continue wrestling through these issues. I appreciate your leadership in the conversation ;)

Its Time

I am tired of being just another religious person. So often it seems that Christianity is just another thing that I’m a part of. Even as a church planter, as someone who left behind the illusion of stability to attempt something risky for the kingdom, it still often feels like I’m just another man who happens to be a Christian.

As a man I can be corrupted, co-opted, ignored and discarded. So I must become more than a man. I cannot do that alone, in isolation, by my own creativity and power. I can only accomplish this as part of something bigger than myself; bigger than a man; bigger even than humanity. And yet it must be intensely and fully human. Fully human in a way that few of us have experienced.

We must become more than a group of friends, more than a congregation. We must become a symbol of something bigger. It must be bigger than an empire, it must be representative of a whole world. A world beyond this world, greater than this world, different from this world. And yet it will bear a strange familiarity because it is the essence from which this world was formed and that which this world dreams of becoming.

We must be more than just another religious group. We must be symbols of this other world. We must be citizens and participants in the reality of this new world. And yet because we know (at least to some degree) why this new world seems so familiar, even in its strangeness, we cannot leave the present world behind. We are a symbol of the new world because we are also locals who have been named ambassadors and harbingers of its coming.

This “something bigger” we are part of is nothing less than the remaking of creation. It is the transformation of this world into the new world it has always been destined to become. But we cannot believe that it is our world to make. We cannot fall into the trap of arrogantly assuming this world will appear when we reach our own perfection. If the world and the symbol are of our own making, they can be corrupted. They can be controlled, conquered and bought. The world we anticipate, represent and experience is a world beyond this world and we have been invited to take our place in its rightful arrival.

BUT...

To become this symbol and to participate in this new reality we must be radically committed to the small local reality. We must not forget that we were chosen to serve as heralds precisely because we are inhabitants of the present world. Those chosen as ambassadors of this new reality are the people next door, not strangers from a foreign country. We must be fully present where we are. For us the symbol must be more than a symbol, it must be concrete...even mundane.

We must maintain the realization that we now carry dual citizenship. If we forget the new world we represent, our eyes will be darkened and we will be fighting a battle with insurmountable odds. However, if we forget the world in which we were first born, to whom will we serve as a symbol? We will lose touch. We will lose our voice in this place.

To accomplish this we must do more than good deeds, though they are part of the whole to be sure. Beyond good deeds we must become the change our good deeds point to. This cannot happen unless we are radically committed to our shared mission...and to one another.

This includes reordering our commitments so that we do not experience long periods of isolation in work and other routines. This will mean sacrifice. It will mean thinking of family and community in ways that seem foreign or even foolish to more...sensible minds, even “Christian” ones.

This includes actively inviting others to come and see what the new world holds, and so it must also mean experiencing the new world as a reality worth inviting others to investigate. If we do not live the life, we are no symbol at all, merely theorists or thespians. If we do not invite others to see, we are no symbol at all, merely separatists.

If we do great deeds without proclaiming the source of all that is good, we are just another corruptible and forgettable human institution. If we proclaim the source of all that is good without exemplifying the new life available from that source, our symbol has no substance.

To speak directly, if we believe that we have been called to join in the mission of God then (among others) three things must be true. First we must experience the healing and reconcilliation of the Kingdom ourselves. This means that where distrust and isolation were the norm, deep connection and relationship (with God, one another and the “other”) must become the new normal. If it isn’t at least becoming true for us, how can we claim it is something real and worth exploring?

Second, we must be engaged in the ministry of reconciliation. We must actively seek out the dark places in our society and shed light and hope. We should be working against oppression, isolation, poverty, violence, neglect and abuse of power. This is the calling. Wherever we find examples of brokenness and darkness in this world, we can trust that God is at work there...we should join in that work.

And third, we must be inviting others to experience the same call in their lives. It is not enough to simply do good, just as it is not enough to fail to do good. We have to be intentional about introducing others to the hope we have. They don’t have to become disciples of Jesus in order to receive kindness, but they certainly shouldn’t be denied the opportunity because we failed to invite them to come and see.

The time has come to move beyond talking about this kingdom and to live as though it were a present (though still arriving) reality. None of us can do this alone, but none of us have to wait for an organization to tell us to begin. This kingdom has been among us for millennia...Its time.

You aren't a styrofoam cup

I’ve mentioned before that when I was in seminary an older, well-respected professor told us very pointedly that it was our responsibility to cultivate friendships and community outside of the church for which we worked.

I’d love to say that this was a forward thinking teacher seeking to instill within us a commitment to cultivating relationships in our community or connecting directly with non-Christians. As I look back over my years of ministry in established churches, my lack of connection to people outside our church is one of the things that I regret most. I accept full responsibility for that sad fact, but I also recognize that the system made doing so very difficult.

I’ve talked to many ministers who share this frustration. The demands of preparing lessons, attending meetings, counseling members, being available at all hours for any random thing, implementing programs and attending more meetings left little room for friendships outside the congregation. It is no wonder that so many of us who have a passion and calling for introducing people to the way of Jesus find church work draining.

It would have been incredibly helpful if professors had made us aware that the church would want to monopolize our time and if we wanted to be salt and light in the dark places of our community, we’d need to build that time into our schedule intentionally. It would make the interview process more difficult with most churches, but I wish I’d have thought to tell them, “Hey, I want to have the freedom to be a neighbor; the freedom to model the way of Christ to those who live around us.”

I could have done this. I could have cut back on programs and invited people from our congregation to go with me: joining the city softball league (as opposed to a church league), participating in a city organized fall festival rather than hosting our own, drinking coffee at Denny’s at the same time on a regular basis, attending city council, PTO and other civic meetings. There’s no reason we couldn’t have done all this...except that it was so foreign to the way we thought, it never crossed our minds.

I wish I could say that this was precisely what that professor was trying to help us imagine. But it wasn’t.

The community he encouraged us to develop was a collection of other ministers and mentors who could help us deal with the difficulties we’d face in ministry because our church could not be our community. The reason he gave was quite simple. “You are an employee that can be fired at will. You are an outsider, this is not your home.”

I remember a range of emotions during that lecture. I was indignant, angry, sad and very concerned. I wanted to say he was off his rocker. I was the youth minister at a church in Dallas at the time and had no intention of remaining on the outside. What upset me most was that I knew, from one perspective, he was right. This was how the church functioned and I had no idea what we could do to change it.

I wrote an essay a couple weeks later entitled, “Marrying Gomer” in which I compared the minister’s call to fully embrace a community that could break his or her heart to the prophet Hosea being called to marry the prostitute Gomer. I felt convicted then, and even more so now, that we cannot love and serve a community as God intended if we come from the posture of a hired gun. I had no idea what we could do to change the system, but I knew it wouldn’t change if we just gave up and gave in.

About six months later the church laid me off for budget reasons. It strikes me now that perhaps the timing was more than just ironic. For a moment or two I considered agreeing with that professor and developing a more detached approach for my own preservation. Instead, I felt a growing conviction that (to quote Brian McLaren) everything had to change. My professor was right in his appraisal of the system, but terribly wrong in accepting it - and teaching others to just accept it as well...

For months now I’ve been captivated the little reminder on Whataburger’s styrofoam cups: “When I am empty please dispose of me properly.”

It is fairly common to hear Christians refer to themselves and others as “cracked vessels,” and I’m afraid that we’ve taken that to mean that they (and everyone else) are marked with Whataburger’s not-so-subtle reminder. Whatever it means to refer to people as vessels, it certainly shouldn’t mean that they are disposable.

When a quarterback has taken too many hits, he is let go and replaced by a newer healthier athlete, regardless of what he’s done for the franchise. It isn’t personal, its a simple necessity.

When a business needs to keep shareholders happy, scores of employees may receive a little pink invitation to contribute one last thing to the company. I actually know of one company (and I think this is probably common) that paid enormous bonuses to the management for laying off a large number of people. Their actions helped the company’s stock rise and they were compensated. Its not that the managers are bad folks, they were just doing the job they were ordered to do...but if there was money for bonuses, wouldn’t it have been great to pay it instead to the fathers and mothers that were now wondering how they’d feed their children?

When a church wants to grow and hasn’t done so in a while, a new preacher seems like a good solution - so its, adios padre, be warmed and filled...we’ll miss you and may even throw you a “get out of here party.”

When a friend proves to be too much work, we just stop returning their calls. When someone on the street asks for help, we don’t even make eye contact as we say, “no.” Most of these folks will just use our money for beer anyway...and we don’t have time to sort through every story, do we?

When a church doesn’t sing the songs we like, doesn’t hire the preacher we wanted to replace the old guy, doesn’t have the same awesome youth ministry that the “other” church has...we just “vote with our feet.” None of this is personal.

And that’s the problem. If relationships with other people aren’t personal what is?

There isn’t much we can do about the punch-drunk quarterback - his job has a shelf life, he knew it when he was drafted and if he isn’t let go it could kill him. We can try to do something about companies focused on maximizing profits at all costs (and we should) but so long as unchecked capitalism rules the day, this will be an uphill battle.

But there’s no reason we can’t do something about how you and I function in day to day life. The issue is systemic and it is quite difficult to address all the areas in our lives where we’ve unconsciously viewed others like styrofoam cups, but its an addiction worth breaking.

If we continue to view life through the lens of the present empire, we may not even be able to see where change is possible. If we understand church as a business then staff will be hired and fired on the same principles that Wal-Mart uses and our continued employment with such a church will be dependent on their ability to compete in the marketplace of religious goods and services. Likewise, people’s membership in such a church will depend on the quality of the product they feel they’re receiving for the tithe.

However if we continually seek to view the world through the Kingdom of God, things get turned on their heads. People may be disposable “out there” but when Jesus proclaims that the Kingdom of God is at hand, both out there and in here become places where a new reality is possible - even demanded. In this reality we are concerned not only with our own interest but also with the interest of others.

In this reality we commit to others for reasons beyond our own benefit. We do so because such is the way of Christ. In our society, to urge others to think beyond themselves is typically seen as becoming a “socialist.” That makes perfect sense, capitalism and socialism have been the only two options for organizing people since the beginning of time, right?

It’s time to move beyond the talking heads on FOX and MSNBC; beyond the rhetoric and propaganda of the Republican and Democratic parties, both sides of the carpet are advocating for the same kingdom. It is time instead to heed the word of the prophets who reminded us that God is unconcerned about our worship when we are unconcerned with the welfare of others (Isaiah 58). It is time to heed the words of THE prophet, Jesus, who warned that without love for one another we cannot uphold the most sacred of commandments.

I’m not going to get into the argument that says this is nice for the church, but it won’t work as a way to organize society. Like my old professor, this logic is only true if we’ve conceded defeat to the present system. All I will say is that whether we think that operating in this way could ever be feasible for a government or not doesn’t matter so long as the Church and the individual disciples of Jesus aren’t willing to embrace it themselves.

The time has come. People are not resources to be used and discarded. Relationships are not transactions. Churches are not businesses. And if we respond by saying, “but they are, its just the way it is. We have to pay for the building and advertising and blah, blah, blah...” then we need to sell everything we have and give it to the poor. Today.

If the church has a building and paid staff and all these other things and is able to avoid behaving under the rules of the systems of this world, then great. But if any of these things; if any of our traditions, hierarchies, operating procedures, cultural expectations or anything else are keeping us from practicing the principles of the new kingdom then they need to go. In the end it is “Christ and him crucified” that matters. The death, burial and resurrection of Jesus served, among other things, to step into the cycle of violence, power and oppression and stop it in its tracks. The church should not be responsible for helping the powers and principalities get keep that cycle on life support.

This isn’t a nomadic church planter’s rant against established churches and buildings. The same critique must be leveled at ourselves. Not having a building payment does not mean we are free from treating other people as disposable goods. We have all accumulated the trappings of the present system. Rather than focusing on the bottom line and seeing people as “contributing units,” our temptation may be to see someone as the next house church leader or “person of peace.”

Just like buildings and programs, this isn’t inherently bad at all - quite the contrary. The problem enters the equation (in either instance) we begin seeing the next house church leader instead of a person; the need to pay for the building instead of the need to proclaim hope. We begin viewing people in terms of how they can help us, benefit our agenda, boost our ego. It isn’t that the people no longer matter, its just that they take second place to what they have to offer.

Tone of voice is hard to decipher in written text. To be clear, my tone is resolved but not meant to be overly harsh. I am deeply convicted that we have a serious need to shake loose the bonds of our syncretism, but I hold this conviction with humility understanding that I myself am implicated. None of us are perfect. None of us can boast pure motives - myself least of all. We strive for perfection and Christlikeness not because we are deluded enough to think we’ll attain it (not on our own power anyway) but rather because there is no other goal worthy of setting our sights.

You and I may be cracked vessels, but its time we stopped resigning ourselves and others to being disposable cups.

A Few Thoughts on "Church" Leadership

For years, the idea of leadership in the church has been tied very closely to preaching and teaching. Over the past couple years, I’ve begun seriously questioning this assumption. In some contexts, leadership is tied to business and organizational decision makers...an assumption I began rejecting even sooner! My previous post raised the question of whether or not the increasing apathy about theology among some is actually a reaction to unhealthy leadership models within the church.

The challenge that has been in front of Christ Journey for a while now is to sort through what leadership actually is. What does it look like in decentralized, informal contexts such as our own? My suspicion is that the answer to this question for our context can also shed light on (though not answer) the leadership issue in more established congregations as well.

Over a year ago Chris read a letter to Christ Journey which basically confessed his exhaustion with the roles and expectations of leadership that had developed.

We had talked about the need for new models of leadership and had read of similar quests in other places, but in reality, none of us were quite sure what that looked like. In part, I think the inability to conceive of a different approach to leadership influenced the reactions of many members of our community. Because we could only imagine one way to lead, when Chris said, “I can’t lead in this way any more,” people heard “I can’t lead anymore.”

I must confess that though Chris and I function as co-leaders, Christ Journey has always viewed me in a support role - to this day even. Not knowing exactly how I should function in the midst of our leadership dilemma, I probably let Chris shoulder too much of the public burden. For that, I’m sorry.

In fairness, neither Chris nor I knew what leadership was going to entail going forward, we just knew that we hoped it would be a shared leadership among the community. People wanted a clear description and we didn’t have one. What we hoped for was a community to help discern just what that entailed.

We’ve learned a lot in the midst of this struggle. The mass exodus of friends was a hard experience, but it too has taught us much.

Today, I think I’m beginning to appreciate the value and understand the reality (somewhat) of non-hierarchical leadership. One of the main differences is that I don’t see my role as a teacher and preacher as indicative of my leadership - it is merely one of the ways I use my gifts to bless my community. I think this still probably confuses some people who expect the person speaking on Sunday morning to use that occasion like a coach’s half-time speech. Instead I’ve tried to take the posture (often poorly) that I learned from as wise man to be simply one hungry beggar sharing bread with another.

Instead of coming from my role as a teacher, I’m learning that leadership is tied more directly to my own engagement in life with Christ in such a way that others can see and be encouraged to continue as well.

I used to struggle with Paul’s comment that what people have seen in him, they should put in practice. It seemed to be a bit arrogant. As I’ve reflected, it is much more humbling and difficult to understand leadership in terms of the old cliche, “practice what you preach,” rather than merely “preaching about practice.”

My ability to lead others then is directly related to and derived from my own willingness to submit to a continual process of spiritual formation; to engage in hospitality and the mission of God, and to be willing to do all these things alongside and in full view of others.

Without time spent considering the implications of my theological convictions, I doubt this realization would have become clear. If I hadn’t spent time wrestling with a theology of leadership that seemed consistent with the mission that God has called us into, I would most likely have continued to accept the roles I saw around me...and perhaps would have walked away from church leadership because of it.

My role as a teacher and preacher are no less important, but perhaps they are not best understood as primary functions of leadership in our church. I wonder, how would congregations be affected if the role of preaching and teaching were seen as another offering to the community and not as the embodiment of leadership?

Would those who do not feel gifted to speak publicly find more empowerment to lead others? Would communal understandings of evangelism move from the realm of information and persuasion toward cups of cold water and loving our neighbors? Would our concept of faith be rooted in discipleship rather than (primarily) agreeing on doctrinal statements and propositions? Would our understanding of corporate worship transition from an event meant to “feed us” spiritually to an opportunity to praise God for the acts of Divine love we’ve witnessed?

Our quest for more shared leadership in Christ Journey doesn’t let Chris and I off the hook as ones who have been called by God to lead in this place. (I think that last line is worth rereading for those of us in decentralized contexts.) It does help us realize that we are called to be leaders of leaders as well as followers among followers. John Perkins and Shane Claiborne in their book, Follow Me to Freedom, remind us that the response to bad leadership isn’t no leadership...its good leadership. Good leadership is best displayed and practiced by those who endeavor to be good followers of Christ.

I am blown away by the complex simplicity (or is it simple complexity?) of that realization. I would love to hear your response to the idea of leadership outside of the public speaker or program developer. Also, particularly if you are one who hasn’t seen theology as all that important, does it seem different if we’re talking about the community of faith considering the implications of our beliefs?

What is the role of leadership in the midst of and in response to such a conversation? (In case you’re wondering, these questions are not a rhetorical device, I’d really appreciate some dialog here!)

May God give me grace in the coming year to lead others with humility, compassion and willingness to be a public display of love for God and for others...and may God do the same with you.

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?