At a seminar I heard Hugh Halter say that people often want to come to their worship gatherings to see what they are doing that's different from the rest of the church world. The problem is, it isn't that different. Their worship (at Adullum) is not remarkably different from what you might experience at any Sunday morning assembly at the local community church.
I took some comfort in hearing this, because, from the standpoint of evaluating how we are living out our calling to "the different life" our Sunday gatherings are remarkably unremarkable. We do meet in a sort of circle configuration, which is kind of different. And our congregation is extremely friendly and welcoming (I'm pleased to say they are this way naturally, and not because they've been coached to be so). And my preaching is very Bible focused, and pays more attention to cultural contexts than many preacher today seem to do. But, overall, I don't think you would enter our worship time and go, "Wow, these people really are different!"
I could be wrong. But I'm thinking the difference is not in our assemblies (And it is our western notions of big church and Sunday services that always has us looking their for what a church is made of). Rather, its in what we are becoming at home and in our neighborhoods that I hope the real difference is beginning to emerge.
I mean, the whole idea of incarnational ministry is that through the body of Christ (the church), God continues to reveal himself (to be incarnated). Our lives are meant to give flesh to the Gospel. Incarnation is not most evident when God's people meet together, but rather when they are simply living and building community. It happens in homes and between friends. It happens in work cubicles and block parties. It happens whenever the people of God are willing to live like Christ in a context where Christ has not been evident.
And sometimes, it happens in a stable.
Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Natural Spirituality
On Saturday we will have a whole bunch of kids here at our facility for our annual Santa Breakfast. I look forward to this every year, because we get to meet a lot of people from the community, and because it's great fun to see all the children having fun and interacting with Santa.
Kids are a big part of my ministry here - from homeschooling my own, to serving kids in our community. I was a family minister before I came here, and it has always been important to me to develop the faith of children. Lately I've been working on a comprehensive approach to the spiritual formation of children. Several people have participated with me in a discussion about this, and I think the biggest challenge is keeping the whole thing natural.
In traditional ministry settings, "comprehensive" translates: organized, formal, educational, and institutional. These are the things we know and gravitate towards. I'm not opposed to programs and ministries, and our discussions about spiritual formation will ultimately result in the creation of these. But I don't want programs to become the central component of spiritual formation, because I know that doesn't work.
So, rather than creating a "Spiritual Formation Ministry," I guess you could say we are trying to cultivate a culture of spiritual formation. And if we are successful in doing that, it will, of course, not be limited to kids. It will become the cultural reality for everyone in our fellowship.
Kids are a big part of my ministry here - from homeschooling my own, to serving kids in our community. I was a family minister before I came here, and it has always been important to me to develop the faith of children. Lately I've been working on a comprehensive approach to the spiritual formation of children. Several people have participated with me in a discussion about this, and I think the biggest challenge is keeping the whole thing natural.
In traditional ministry settings, "comprehensive" translates: organized, formal, educational, and institutional. These are the things we know and gravitate towards. I'm not opposed to programs and ministries, and our discussions about spiritual formation will ultimately result in the creation of these. But I don't want programs to become the central component of spiritual formation, because I know that doesn't work.
So, rather than creating a "Spiritual Formation Ministry," I guess you could say we are trying to cultivate a culture of spiritual formation. And if we are successful in doing that, it will, of course, not be limited to kids. It will become the cultural reality for everyone in our fellowship.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Attention Evergreen Locals
For those of you who live in the area, an announcement:
Breakfast with Santa!
Enjoy a breakfast of hot pancakes along with crafts, prizes, and, of course, a visit and pictures with Santa. It's great fun for the whole family, and it's free! Breakfast will be served from 8-11 a.m. on Saturday, December 13th at Evergreen Community Church of Christ, 29997 Buffalo Park Road in Evergreen (Next to Three Sister's Open Space). Contact the church office (303-674-6459) or consult the website for directions: www.livedifferentchurch.org.
Breakfast with Santa!
Enjoy a breakfast of hot pancakes along with crafts, prizes, and, of course, a visit and pictures with Santa. It's great fun for the whole family, and it's free! Breakfast will be served from 8-11 a.m. on Saturday, December 13th at Evergreen Community Church of Christ, 29997 Buffalo Park Road in Evergreen (Next to Three Sister's Open Space). Contact the church office (303-674-6459) or consult the website for directions: www.livedifferentchurch.org.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Reading the Signs
Last week my secretary said something that I had been thinking but had been almost afraid to say myself. She said that ever since our day of prayer and fasting, things have been happening around here, and there is a different kind of energy in the air.
Several weeks ago we called our little congregation to a day of prayer and fasting. We had plenty of people who agreed to participate, and it has been very exciting to me to see what has happened since then. We've had a steady stream of visitors. We've added a couple new families to our fellowship. Several people are considering or have already started new missional efforts in their neighborhoods.
Not everything has been good, of course. Our new website was hacked last week, just a short time after the new changes went live. Our main web guy, my friend Dan, is still trying to get the site back up. But even that event is kind of interesting. I mean, we've been on the web for years without incident. We launch a revision of the site designed to reflect our missional goals and nature, and within weeks we are attacked. This happens even as focus group of some of our newest members were affirming how important an effective webiste is to their finding and choosing a church of which to be a part. It makes me think the enemy is unhappy with what we are doing, and that can only be good.
Here's the thing, though... what we are doing is simply leaving our path open so we can be led where God wants us to go. This, as opposed to setting up our program and asking God to bless what we are doing. Some of the things that are developing will, no doubt, eventually be represented in "program" form, but hopefully their development will be more spirit centered and organic.
I find that genuine ministry seems to be happening in some unexpected places, and that we, as an organization, have less direct control over these things. I think this is healthy, and I'm watching with anticipation to see where some of these things go.
Yesterday, I received a particularly encouraging affirmation. My wife and I got to have lunch with a couple of our newest members. After sharing with me how some things I had been speaking about interacted rather profoundly with things the Spirit had been leading them in, she shared with me an observation that I agree with, but would not have put half as well. "For some reason," she said, "God's attention is focused on this church."
Several weeks ago we called our little congregation to a day of prayer and fasting. We had plenty of people who agreed to participate, and it has been very exciting to me to see what has happened since then. We've had a steady stream of visitors. We've added a couple new families to our fellowship. Several people are considering or have already started new missional efforts in their neighborhoods.
Not everything has been good, of course. Our new website was hacked last week, just a short time after the new changes went live. Our main web guy, my friend Dan, is still trying to get the site back up. But even that event is kind of interesting. I mean, we've been on the web for years without incident. We launch a revision of the site designed to reflect our missional goals and nature, and within weeks we are attacked. This happens even as focus group of some of our newest members were affirming how important an effective webiste is to their finding and choosing a church of which to be a part. It makes me think the enemy is unhappy with what we are doing, and that can only be good.
Here's the thing, though... what we are doing is simply leaving our path open so we can be led where God wants us to go. This, as opposed to setting up our program and asking God to bless what we are doing. Some of the things that are developing will, no doubt, eventually be represented in "program" form, but hopefully their development will be more spirit centered and organic.
I find that genuine ministry seems to be happening in some unexpected places, and that we, as an organization, have less direct control over these things. I think this is healthy, and I'm watching with anticipation to see where some of these things go.
Yesterday, I received a particularly encouraging affirmation. My wife and I got to have lunch with a couple of our newest members. After sharing with me how some things I had been speaking about interacted rather profoundly with things the Spirit had been leading them in, she shared with me an observation that I agree with, but would not have put half as well. "For some reason," she said, "God's attention is focused on this church."
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
New Website
I haven't written anything here in quite some time, in part because I've been writing and editing some content for our new church website. I think its coming along great! This is an improvement we've been working on for some time now, and we hope it will make the site more interesting and interactive.
If your are interested, check it out: www.livedifferentchurch.org
If your are interested, check it out: www.livedifferentchurch.org
Friday, September 5, 2008
Faith and the Ferris Wheel
I’ve always enjoyed amusement parks, so when my kids got free tickets to Lakeside amusement park in Dener as a reward for successfully completing the local library summer reading program, I was good to go.
I had never been to Lakeside, but I had read some of the history of the place, and I was looking forward to enjoying the park during this, its 100th anniversary season. And I did. With the possible exception of an attraction called “Starship 2000.” This “ride” is essentially a centrifuge sized for human beings. Its true purpose is apparently to flatten your internal organs against your spine. I’m fairly certain it may be the antichrist of amusement park rides, and I am opposed to it on entirely theological grounds.
Aside from that, I had a great time. Lakeside is a nostalgic old park of the type often imitated by the newer parks. It is a mix of Coney Island and art deco, which gives it a very retro classical appeal. And though the facilities could use an influx of capital to improve maintenance and landscaping, in many ways, Lakeside is an ideal family amusement park. Except for one thing: It’s old. It struck me that, while modern amusement parks often attempt to mimic the classical feel and nostalgia of the great old parks, as a culture, we are not predisposed to actually attend the great old parks. We have come to prefer the newer imitations of the original over the original.
I guess we like the newer parks because they feature carefully controlled guest environments. The attractions are often faster, and feature licensed characters from our favorite movies. They can accommodate larger crowds and larger events, which also means they have longer lines. They offer different attractions to appeal to different members of the family, which often means that, rather than attending together, family members split up to go and do their own age appropriate thing. I like those newer parks, but I have to say that Lakeside, smaller, older, and much more simple, was a nearly perfect place to be with my family.
The dynamic I’m describing here is the same that has frustrated me about the modern church. Anyone who wants to take an honest look knows that the church as it exists today is very different from the church of the first century. And while cultural differences are to be expected, one can easily make the case that we have fundamentally changed the definition of the church. This has not made us a more effective vehicle of the Kingdom, as far as I can tell. Even in apparently thriving Christian communities, I am hard pressed to identify, in the western world, churches as vital and fast growing as the early church. And yet, we prefer our modern imitation of the original, over the original. We enjoy a more controlled environment, with flashier, if less substantive, attractions. We can accommodate larger crowds. And we divide ourselves generationally.
A return to the original demands that we relinquish the convenience and control to which we have become accustomed. The early church was more raw, and if I may say, more real than what we have experienced. It was, in a sense, more dangerous and unpredictable, because God’s Spirit controlled the action in a much more direct fashion than we allow today.
But, honestly, given a choice between a church built by God and directed by his Spirit into miraculous things, and a church built by humanity out of foam and fiberglass to represent the miraculous, which would you choose?
I had never been to Lakeside, but I had read some of the history of the place, and I was looking forward to enjoying the park during this, its 100th anniversary season. And I did. With the possible exception of an attraction called “Starship 2000.” This “ride” is essentially a centrifuge sized for human beings. Its true purpose is apparently to flatten your internal organs against your spine. I’m fairly certain it may be the antichrist of amusement park rides, and I am opposed to it on entirely theological grounds.
Aside from that, I had a great time. Lakeside is a nostalgic old park of the type often imitated by the newer parks. It is a mix of Coney Island and art deco, which gives it a very retro classical appeal. And though the facilities could use an influx of capital to improve maintenance and landscaping, in many ways, Lakeside is an ideal family amusement park. Except for one thing: It’s old. It struck me that, while modern amusement parks often attempt to mimic the classical feel and nostalgia of the great old parks, as a culture, we are not predisposed to actually attend the great old parks. We have come to prefer the newer imitations of the original over the original.
I guess we like the newer parks because they feature carefully controlled guest environments. The attractions are often faster, and feature licensed characters from our favorite movies. They can accommodate larger crowds and larger events, which also means they have longer lines. They offer different attractions to appeal to different members of the family, which often means that, rather than attending together, family members split up to go and do their own age appropriate thing. I like those newer parks, but I have to say that Lakeside, smaller, older, and much more simple, was a nearly perfect place to be with my family.
The dynamic I’m describing here is the same that has frustrated me about the modern church. Anyone who wants to take an honest look knows that the church as it exists today is very different from the church of the first century. And while cultural differences are to be expected, one can easily make the case that we have fundamentally changed the definition of the church. This has not made us a more effective vehicle of the Kingdom, as far as I can tell. Even in apparently thriving Christian communities, I am hard pressed to identify, in the western world, churches as vital and fast growing as the early church. And yet, we prefer our modern imitation of the original, over the original. We enjoy a more controlled environment, with flashier, if less substantive, attractions. We can accommodate larger crowds. And we divide ourselves generationally.
A return to the original demands that we relinquish the convenience and control to which we have become accustomed. The early church was more raw, and if I may say, more real than what we have experienced. It was, in a sense, more dangerous and unpredictable, because God’s Spirit controlled the action in a much more direct fashion than we allow today.
But, honestly, given a choice between a church built by God and directed by his Spirit into miraculous things, and a church built by humanity out of foam and fiberglass to represent the miraculous, which would you choose?
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Ownership
Well, here it is the middle of August, and I haven't posted a word since mid-June. As bloggers go, I'm afraid I've not been very diligent. But I do have something on my mind that might be worth sharing:
My wife wondered aloud this afternoon, as we left our Sunday morning assembly, "I wonder if there's anyone's toes you didn't step on today?"
She's probably right, though I didn't set out to offend. I've just got a bee in my bonnet about ownership. It's been a pet peeve of mine for some time. I cringe every time I hear someone saying that the way to motivate people in ministry is to give them ownership. This corporate culture notion of ownership is about as far removed from Scripture as you can get. And yet our culture is so enamored with ownership as a concept, that we tend to accept this advice with little thought.
Lately I've become frustrated with just how pervasive the notion of ownership has become. It occurs to me that the things we use to define church are all rooted in ownership. The things that frustrate me about organized religion: the focus on facilities, budgets, attendance, and hierarchy, all speak to our desire to own and control the church. Consider: If we speak of a church "closing its doors" the assumption is that congregation no longer exists. Its members must disperse to other places. Now, how is it that closing the doors of a building is so readily equated with ending the fellowship of a congregation? When did the external conveniences of church, such as an owned meeting place, become the church itself?
It goes much further than this, of course. Our denominational identities allow us to slap a brand name on the church, guaranteeing to some extent that we will be able to control membership and the content of our worship. This is exclusively about our ownership and control, as far as I can tell. Which is, I suppose, no big deal if the church is just a human religious organization, as so many people see it. But if it is of diving origin, then such attempt to own and control it are out of line.
I've not had much success pursuing this point of view, to be honest. I've no particular interest in being identified with any particular denomination, but some in our fellowship still experience strong ties to the denominational identity. What scares me about this is that I believe God's Spirit is quenched by our ownership and control. It's like we are asking God to work through our structure and our plans, rather than us responding to His.
My wife wondered aloud this afternoon, as we left our Sunday morning assembly, "I wonder if there's anyone's toes you didn't step on today?"
She's probably right, though I didn't set out to offend. I've just got a bee in my bonnet about ownership. It's been a pet peeve of mine for some time. I cringe every time I hear someone saying that the way to motivate people in ministry is to give them ownership. This corporate culture notion of ownership is about as far removed from Scripture as you can get. And yet our culture is so enamored with ownership as a concept, that we tend to accept this advice with little thought.
Lately I've become frustrated with just how pervasive the notion of ownership has become. It occurs to me that the things we use to define church are all rooted in ownership. The things that frustrate me about organized religion: the focus on facilities, budgets, attendance, and hierarchy, all speak to our desire to own and control the church. Consider: If we speak of a church "closing its doors" the assumption is that congregation no longer exists. Its members must disperse to other places. Now, how is it that closing the doors of a building is so readily equated with ending the fellowship of a congregation? When did the external conveniences of church, such as an owned meeting place, become the church itself?
It goes much further than this, of course. Our denominational identities allow us to slap a brand name on the church, guaranteeing to some extent that we will be able to control membership and the content of our worship. This is exclusively about our ownership and control, as far as I can tell. Which is, I suppose, no big deal if the church is just a human religious organization, as so many people see it. But if it is of diving origin, then such attempt to own and control it are out of line.
I've not had much success pursuing this point of view, to be honest. I've no particular interest in being identified with any particular denomination, but some in our fellowship still experience strong ties to the denominational identity. What scares me about this is that I believe God's Spirit is quenched by our ownership and control. It's like we are asking God to work through our structure and our plans, rather than us responding to His.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Mission Mindset
We've just returned from a mission trip to the Navajo Reservation near Bluff, Utah. It was a productive and blessed week; the culmination of four years of relationship building. We finished construction of a hogan meeting house for a group of Navajo believers there, and we look forward to beginning a series of local service projects on the reservation, which we hope will also be a great blessing to our Navajo brothers and sisters.
Each year when I return from this trip, I am mindful of the challenges of translating missions into a local setting. On a mission trip, the team is fully focused and committed to the task at hand. They are blessed to serve, and anxiously await God's hand in things. Upon returning home to all our normal distractions, it is difficult to have that same kind of focus; the same openness to opportunities. And we've been lulled into thinking that God is not likely to act in powerful ways at home, in the same manner we've come to expect on these ventures to new places.
This year I am keenly aware of how slow and difficult a process it is to befriend many Navajo people. They are generally distrustful of outsiders—particularly white outsiders—and often with just cause. It's been relatively easy to go and build something or complete some job that needs doing. The relationships we've created over the years have been more challenging. They simply cannot be rushed. They take time and attention. I am thrilled that we have finished the hogan (a project three years in the making) but I am convinced the real victory here is that we've come to be loved and accepted by some of our Navajo hosts, and we very genuinely love them in return.
I bring this lesson home with me, and consider how our area is not all that different in terms of the challenge of relationship. It is not that difficult to create programs, host events, or complete service projects. It's another thing altogether to create genuine community with people. Evergreen and the surrounding area is filled with highly independent, rather postmodern and largely unchurched people. When they have questions about life, they do not seek answers from churches or from the Bible. They look on committed Christians with some degree of distrust, or write them off with the familiar, "That's great if that works for you but I'm not into the whole religion thing."
Of course, they are into religion. It may be nothing more than the religion of self or some generic spirituality, but people here are very religiously committed and fervent. What they are not so keen on is the truth, as allowing any singular truth to be defined is a threat to individuality, which here, and in American culture in general, is often considered the ultimate good.
Most churches here end up competing over the minority of residents already inclined to attend a church. They sponsor big programs and events to draw them in.
We have begun to operate on a different premise. We want to be in conversation with unchurched and dechurched people about life and faith. This requires that we invest a great deal of time and respect in building relationships with people. We can't expect them to come to us, and we cannot force Jesus upon them. We must go to them, build community with them, and let them open the doors to spiritual conversation.
Our culture is accustomed to immediate results and gratification, so building relationships without some evangelistic plan of attack feels a little open ended, but this is about letting people learn to trust and love us, even as we learn to love and trust them.
As an example, I've got a bunch of neighbors coming over this weekend to help me build a ramping bridge from my driveway to my front door. These people, at various levels of spiritual awareness and religious participation, are not coming to my house as my "target population" or "evangelistic prospects." They are coming as my friends. And I can say, with great honesty, that I love and appreciate each of them. We are becoming a community, and I am choosing to rely on them in my time of need. I strive to be, within the context of that community, a man of God, and I look forward to the times they trust me with their spiritual questions, but I do not try to steer conversations. As I see it, my job for now is to love them and invest myself in them. Their personal spiritual journeys are far more dependent on God's work in their lives than on mine.
Along these same lines, God has opened another very interesting door. A few of us here, through a very interesting series of events, have come to host an "open mike night" at a local restaurant and tavern. This is not overtly evangelistic in the sense that we sing and play many secular songs, and there is no "come to Jesus" speech made at any point in the evening. But we do slip in a few songs that reflect our heart for God, and we are enjoying the opportunity to connect with local musicians and their friends.
We wait anxiously to see where God is going to take such opportunities.
Blessings,
Doug
Each year when I return from this trip, I am mindful of the challenges of translating missions into a local setting. On a mission trip, the team is fully focused and committed to the task at hand. They are blessed to serve, and anxiously await God's hand in things. Upon returning home to all our normal distractions, it is difficult to have that same kind of focus; the same openness to opportunities. And we've been lulled into thinking that God is not likely to act in powerful ways at home, in the same manner we've come to expect on these ventures to new places.
This year I am keenly aware of how slow and difficult a process it is to befriend many Navajo people. They are generally distrustful of outsiders—particularly white outsiders—and often with just cause. It's been relatively easy to go and build something or complete some job that needs doing. The relationships we've created over the years have been more challenging. They simply cannot be rushed. They take time and attention. I am thrilled that we have finished the hogan (a project three years in the making) but I am convinced the real victory here is that we've come to be loved and accepted by some of our Navajo hosts, and we very genuinely love them in return.
I bring this lesson home with me, and consider how our area is not all that different in terms of the challenge of relationship. It is not that difficult to create programs, host events, or complete service projects. It's another thing altogether to create genuine community with people. Evergreen and the surrounding area is filled with highly independent, rather postmodern and largely unchurched people. When they have questions about life, they do not seek answers from churches or from the Bible. They look on committed Christians with some degree of distrust, or write them off with the familiar, "That's great if that works for you but I'm not into the whole religion thing."
Of course, they are into religion. It may be nothing more than the religion of self or some generic spirituality, but people here are very religiously committed and fervent. What they are not so keen on is the truth, as allowing any singular truth to be defined is a threat to individuality, which here, and in American culture in general, is often considered the ultimate good.
Most churches here end up competing over the minority of residents already inclined to attend a church. They sponsor big programs and events to draw them in.
We have begun to operate on a different premise. We want to be in conversation with unchurched and dechurched people about life and faith. This requires that we invest a great deal of time and respect in building relationships with people. We can't expect them to come to us, and we cannot force Jesus upon them. We must go to them, build community with them, and let them open the doors to spiritual conversation.
Our culture is accustomed to immediate results and gratification, so building relationships without some evangelistic plan of attack feels a little open ended, but this is about letting people learn to trust and love us, even as we learn to love and trust them.
As an example, I've got a bunch of neighbors coming over this weekend to help me build a ramping bridge from my driveway to my front door. These people, at various levels of spiritual awareness and religious participation, are not coming to my house as my "target population" or "evangelistic prospects." They are coming as my friends. And I can say, with great honesty, that I love and appreciate each of them. We are becoming a community, and I am choosing to rely on them in my time of need. I strive to be, within the context of that community, a man of God, and I look forward to the times they trust me with their spiritual questions, but I do not try to steer conversations. As I see it, my job for now is to love them and invest myself in them. Their personal spiritual journeys are far more dependent on God's work in their lives than on mine.
Along these same lines, God has opened another very interesting door. A few of us here, through a very interesting series of events, have come to host an "open mike night" at a local restaurant and tavern. This is not overtly evangelistic in the sense that we sing and play many secular songs, and there is no "come to Jesus" speech made at any point in the evening. But we do slip in a few songs that reflect our heart for God, and we are enjoying the opportunity to connect with local musicians and their friends.
We wait anxiously to see where God is going to take such opportunities.
Blessings,
Doug
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Questioning Denominational Identity
I grew up in a fellowship that considered itself non-denominational. That was the ideal anyway. We wanted to simply be Christians, and not identify ourselves as anything but. Unfortunately, this sort of morphed over the years into a certain pride about our non-denominational status. We kind of went from being just Christians to being the only Christians. Our fellowship became very sectarian and exclusive.
This is ironic on several levels. I mean, how do you become prideful about your denomination if you are claiming you aren't one?
In spite of these problems, I am still drawn to the nondenominational ideal. I suppose some level of corporate organization in the church is inevitable, but whenever that organization starts to become the core of our identity I get nervous. Which is why I feel so strongly about this next pair of ideas:
Christocentric vs. denominational
All this really means is I think we need to stop putting our faith in the "rightness" of our human organizations and put our faith in Jesus. Though I will always be influenced by the particular Christian heritage of which I am a part, I don't want that heritage to define me or the fellowship of which I am currently a part. I'd simply like to, as best I can, be a follower of Jesus.
I realize that this is heretical talk to some. From about the third century on, the church has assumed, on one level or another, that it had the authority to redefine itself, and to manage its membership in accordance with a narrow spectrum of doctrinal beliefs. The proliferation of Christian denominations that exist today has its origin in the assumption that "my church is just a little more right than your church."
This makes me wonder: When did the church become "mine?" And where does the Bible give us the authority to segment and divide the church just so we can work and worship exclusively with people who believe exactly as we do? And why do Christians waste so much time insisting that if others were truly being faithful to Jesus they would believe "just as I do?"
It strikes me that a great many of our differences could be successfully accommodated if only we could remain focused on the core principle that Jesus is Lord.
This is ironic on several levels. I mean, how do you become prideful about your denomination if you are claiming you aren't one?
In spite of these problems, I am still drawn to the nondenominational ideal. I suppose some level of corporate organization in the church is inevitable, but whenever that organization starts to become the core of our identity I get nervous. Which is why I feel so strongly about this next pair of ideas:
Christocentric vs. denominational
All this really means is I think we need to stop putting our faith in the "rightness" of our human organizations and put our faith in Jesus. Though I will always be influenced by the particular Christian heritage of which I am a part, I don't want that heritage to define me or the fellowship of which I am currently a part. I'd simply like to, as best I can, be a follower of Jesus.
I realize that this is heretical talk to some. From about the third century on, the church has assumed, on one level or another, that it had the authority to redefine itself, and to manage its membership in accordance with a narrow spectrum of doctrinal beliefs. The proliferation of Christian denominations that exist today has its origin in the assumption that "my church is just a little more right than your church."
This makes me wonder: When did the church become "mine?" And where does the Bible give us the authority to segment and divide the church just so we can work and worship exclusively with people who believe exactly as we do? And why do Christians waste so much time insisting that if others were truly being faithful to Jesus they would believe "just as I do?"
It strikes me that a great many of our differences could be successfully accommodated if only we could remain focused on the core principle that Jesus is Lord.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Following Jesus
The next pairing of ideas I want to talk about - discipleship vs. membership - is something that has been on my mind a great deal lately. I often find, when I talk to Christians about restoring discipleship as a core practice of the faith, they stare blankly almost unable to comprehend what I mean. Discipleship is, in the simplest of terms, about following Jesus, and our experience of church has duped us into believing that if we keep the traditions of modern western Christianity, we are, in fact, following Jesus.
What Jesus said about it was, if we wanted to follow him, we would need to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. At the time, this was taken quite literally. It meant you denied your own will and agenda to replace it with the will and agenda of Jesus, based on the belief that his will is superior to our own. It meant that you took on his mission, and thus his burden, even to the point of great persecution or death. And it meant that you followed him, allowing his life and the direction of his Spirit set the course for your life.
Oddly enough, today we don't often interpret these words as literally. When I hear Christians talk about the deny self, take up the cross, and follow passages, they somehow find a way to make this almost exclusively about dealing with their personal sin. Self denial is about dealing with our sinful nature. Taking up the cross is about fighting our sin just as Jesus fought our sin with his sacrifice. And following is about living your life by the moral standard of Jesus.
Sadly, there is no mention of our participation in mission, our role in building up the body, the use of our spiritual gifts, or our commission to take the message of Jesus to the world around us. In the age of the modern church, these are the vocation of professional clergy, missionaries, and a handful of committed lay volunteers. But the New Testament makes very clear that there is no such distinction between disciples who serve the mission of Jesus, and disciples who are mere members of the church. We are a priesthood of believers.
The original disciples, recruited to be "fishers of men" would be very surprised to hear that discipleship was merely a matter of personal moral improvement. It was a life directing mission and belief. Modern Christians believe in Jesus. Disciples believed Jesus was the only genuine source of life, meaning, transcendence, and salvation, and they lived accordingly.
True discipleship has been moderated to the point that if we attend Sunday services, give some of our money, sit through a few sermons, and possibly volunteer some time to a church ministry, we are living the life to which Christ called us. Oddly enough, many of the things Christians do to feel spiritual or Christ focused have their origin in human tradition and not in the life and ministry of Jesus. For a helpful book on this subject, check out Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Church Practices by Frank Viola and George Barna. While I differ with some of their conclusions, this is a very eye opening book.
The misconception that "doing the church thing" is the same as following Jesus spills over, I think, into our notions about Biblical study. In a recent conversation with some of our church leaders about our educational efforts, including Sunday school, small groups, Bible classes, and sermons, the consensus seemed to be that the purpose of these educational efforts was to encourage. Odd as this may sound, that really bothers me. I wish that we looked on Biblical studies as a source of transformation. I wish that we approached the Bible expecting it to undermine our human thinking and to defy our expectations. I fear that we approach the Bible expecting it to reinforce or perhaps clarify what we already believe. This is, I think, the result of our membership ideology. Since the call of discipleship is moderated to mean being a good and moral person who attends a particular fellowship, the use of Scripture gets moderated to include only personal moral instruction and reinforcement.
One of the things I really like about missional church thinking is that the mission is always directing my attention back to the Scriptures, not to reinforce my belief, but to seek real answers to missional problems. For instance, when people come to me with suggestions about how we can market the church or to advocate some leadership technique, I often find myself asking the question, "How is this reflected in the life and ministry of Jesus." With some regularity, I discover that the thing being advocated is little more than the latest in human thinking about corporate organizations. This doesn't automatically make it a bad idea, but it does cast doubt. If we are trying to live out a divine and organic reality, it serves to reason that many human and structural ideas may not apply.
The idea of discipleship I've proposed within our fellowship is that we would follow Jesus as literally as possible. I don't mean that we will start dressing in sandals and robes, but I do mean that when Jesus says he is the way, the truth, and the life, we reorganize our life around the idea that the ministry of Jesus is our roadmap for mission, the truth of Jesus is the truth that guides us, and the life of Jesus is the source of our hope. If we are true disciples, I believe our choices, priorities, daytimers and checkbooks will all reflect these truths.
What Jesus said about it was, if we wanted to follow him, we would need to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. At the time, this was taken quite literally. It meant you denied your own will and agenda to replace it with the will and agenda of Jesus, based on the belief that his will is superior to our own. It meant that you took on his mission, and thus his burden, even to the point of great persecution or death. And it meant that you followed him, allowing his life and the direction of his Spirit set the course for your life.
Oddly enough, today we don't often interpret these words as literally. When I hear Christians talk about the deny self, take up the cross, and follow passages, they somehow find a way to make this almost exclusively about dealing with their personal sin. Self denial is about dealing with our sinful nature. Taking up the cross is about fighting our sin just as Jesus fought our sin with his sacrifice. And following is about living your life by the moral standard of Jesus.
Sadly, there is no mention of our participation in mission, our role in building up the body, the use of our spiritual gifts, or our commission to take the message of Jesus to the world around us. In the age of the modern church, these are the vocation of professional clergy, missionaries, and a handful of committed lay volunteers. But the New Testament makes very clear that there is no such distinction between disciples who serve the mission of Jesus, and disciples who are mere members of the church. We are a priesthood of believers.
The original disciples, recruited to be "fishers of men" would be very surprised to hear that discipleship was merely a matter of personal moral improvement. It was a life directing mission and belief. Modern Christians believe in Jesus. Disciples believed Jesus was the only genuine source of life, meaning, transcendence, and salvation, and they lived accordingly.
True discipleship has been moderated to the point that if we attend Sunday services, give some of our money, sit through a few sermons, and possibly volunteer some time to a church ministry, we are living the life to which Christ called us. Oddly enough, many of the things Christians do to feel spiritual or Christ focused have their origin in human tradition and not in the life and ministry of Jesus. For a helpful book on this subject, check out Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Church Practices by Frank Viola and George Barna. While I differ with some of their conclusions, this is a very eye opening book.
The misconception that "doing the church thing" is the same as following Jesus spills over, I think, into our notions about Biblical study. In a recent conversation with some of our church leaders about our educational efforts, including Sunday school, small groups, Bible classes, and sermons, the consensus seemed to be that the purpose of these educational efforts was to encourage. Odd as this may sound, that really bothers me. I wish that we looked on Biblical studies as a source of transformation. I wish that we approached the Bible expecting it to undermine our human thinking and to defy our expectations. I fear that we approach the Bible expecting it to reinforce or perhaps clarify what we already believe. This is, I think, the result of our membership ideology. Since the call of discipleship is moderated to mean being a good and moral person who attends a particular fellowship, the use of Scripture gets moderated to include only personal moral instruction and reinforcement.
One of the things I really like about missional church thinking is that the mission is always directing my attention back to the Scriptures, not to reinforce my belief, but to seek real answers to missional problems. For instance, when people come to me with suggestions about how we can market the church or to advocate some leadership technique, I often find myself asking the question, "How is this reflected in the life and ministry of Jesus." With some regularity, I discover that the thing being advocated is little more than the latest in human thinking about corporate organizations. This doesn't automatically make it a bad idea, but it does cast doubt. If we are trying to live out a divine and organic reality, it serves to reason that many human and structural ideas may not apply.
The idea of discipleship I've proposed within our fellowship is that we would follow Jesus as literally as possible. I don't mean that we will start dressing in sandals and robes, but I do mean that when Jesus says he is the way, the truth, and the life, we reorganize our life around the idea that the ministry of Jesus is our roadmap for mission, the truth of Jesus is the truth that guides us, and the life of Jesus is the source of our hope. If we are true disciples, I believe our choices, priorities, daytimers and checkbooks will all reflect these truths.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Vision and Movement
Organic vs. Institutional
In talking about organic church, I am borrowing terminology from Neil Cole's wonderful book, The Organic Church. Cole talks about his experiences as a church planter, and proliferation of house churches and third place churches that result from a very organic approach to faith. This is a very oversimplified summary, and I would really encourage you to read the book if you haven't already.
For my part, I'm basically using the term to describe the church as it existed before it was an institution. It was a movement then, a seat of your pants, often persecuted movement, that could only exist if its proponents kept a clear focus on the vision of their leader, Jesus Christ. For centuries, it had no buildings, very little hierarchy, and no corporate identity.
I won't take the time to go through all of the history here, but in summary, there were various leaders in early Christianity who sought to control the church, but none were broadly successful until the conversion of Roman Emperor Constantine. While Constantine is often credited with bringing Christianity into mainline credibility, he also gave himself the authority to restructure the church. He gave it a hierarchy based on Roman governmental systems. He constructed elaborate church buildings. He contributed to the formation of various church policies. His reforms led to a distinct clergy-member separation, a divorce of the church from its Hebrew roots, and the institutionalization of what had been an organic, spiritual, community based movement.
The main problem with institutions is that they can continue to exist even after everyone involved has lost sight of what is really important. In other words, a movement can only exist so long as it maintains a vision. But incorporate that same movement into an institution, and the institution will continue to exist regardless of vision. This is, sadly, often the case in organized religion.
Organization and institutions have their place. But they are meant to be the tools of the church, not the church itself. The church is to be, very simply, a collection of disciples. And disciples are, quite simply, those who have devoted their lives to following a Rabbi. In this case, the Rabbi is Jesus.
The organic church accomplishes its purposes in an organic way. It grows, not by expanding its structures, but through disciples who build relationships and community connections. It is relational, like a family. It plants seeds of truth, and watches to see what happens. The original church was the result of a way of life, rooted in discipleship and faith in Jesus. The institutional church may use the language of discipleship and faith, but it has become invested in perpetuating its own structure and identity along with the Gospel.
Oddly enough, we've lived so long with the institutional church that many Christians think we can't live without it. At times, I'm not sure we can live with it.
Blessings,
Doug
In talking about organic church, I am borrowing terminology from Neil Cole's wonderful book, The Organic Church. Cole talks about his experiences as a church planter, and proliferation of house churches and third place churches that result from a very organic approach to faith. This is a very oversimplified summary, and I would really encourage you to read the book if you haven't already.
For my part, I'm basically using the term to describe the church as it existed before it was an institution. It was a movement then, a seat of your pants, often persecuted movement, that could only exist if its proponents kept a clear focus on the vision of their leader, Jesus Christ. For centuries, it had no buildings, very little hierarchy, and no corporate identity.
I won't take the time to go through all of the history here, but in summary, there were various leaders in early Christianity who sought to control the church, but none were broadly successful until the conversion of Roman Emperor Constantine. While Constantine is often credited with bringing Christianity into mainline credibility, he also gave himself the authority to restructure the church. He gave it a hierarchy based on Roman governmental systems. He constructed elaborate church buildings. He contributed to the formation of various church policies. His reforms led to a distinct clergy-member separation, a divorce of the church from its Hebrew roots, and the institutionalization of what had been an organic, spiritual, community based movement.
The main problem with institutions is that they can continue to exist even after everyone involved has lost sight of what is really important. In other words, a movement can only exist so long as it maintains a vision. But incorporate that same movement into an institution, and the institution will continue to exist regardless of vision. This is, sadly, often the case in organized religion.
Organization and institutions have their place. But they are meant to be the tools of the church, not the church itself. The church is to be, very simply, a collection of disciples. And disciples are, quite simply, those who have devoted their lives to following a Rabbi. In this case, the Rabbi is Jesus.
The organic church accomplishes its purposes in an organic way. It grows, not by expanding its structures, but through disciples who build relationships and community connections. It is relational, like a family. It plants seeds of truth, and watches to see what happens. The original church was the result of a way of life, rooted in discipleship and faith in Jesus. The institutional church may use the language of discipleship and faith, but it has become invested in perpetuating its own structure and identity along with the Gospel.
Oddly enough, we've lived so long with the institutional church that many Christians think we can't live without it. At times, I'm not sure we can live with it.
Blessings,
Doug
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
A Turn Towards Mission
Well, I guess it's time I started to unpack some of those pairs. I'll begin with two that are closely related:
Community Focused vs. Internally Focused
The modern church has become a monument to itself. Its facilities, services, programs, and ministries are 90% focused within the church, to provide support, encouragement, inspiration, and community to its members. These are not bad things, but they miss the point. The collective mission of the church is to shine the light of truth into dark places; to share hope with the hopeless, and to just generally act and talk as Jesus would for the world's benefit.
When the people of Jesus lose sight of this core mission, they begin to focus, almost exclusively on themselves. The work of real ministry is replaced with the mounting responsibility of keeping happy church members who mistakenly think the church is supposed to revolve around them. At best, the internally focused church becomes isolated from its surrounding community. At worst, it becomes exclusive and self serving.
So the first step towards becoming a missional church is to learn to think outside ourselves; to reacquaint ourselves with the fact that we serve a purpose in the world, and not just within the walls of our facilities.
Missional vs. Attractional
Of course, not all churches become so internally focused. Some are very committed to service within their communities, and to reaching people with their message. We, however, are not only concerned with whether or not the church gets outside of itself, but how it does so.
The accepted standard for church methodology is to initiate benevolent or evangelistic campaigns with the intent of attracting people back to the church. Thus, the church's focus within the surrounding community is almost exclusively on getting people back into the church. The false assumption at work here is that real church and spiritual life take place nearly exclusively within church initiated and controlled environments.
Furthermore, once the church manages to attract someone, it begins to drive a wedge between them and the communities of which they are already a part. Thus, writers like Hirsch and Frost not only characterize these churches as attractional, but extractional, inasmuch as their intent is to attract people to the programs and resources they have to offer, then extract them from their other community relationships.
We believe this creates a bit of an ivory tower. Church people develop a certain arrogance about the distinctions between who is in and who is out of their group. And the mission is compromised in the sense that, in order for people to experience the good news about Jesus, they must enter into and submit themselves to our organized religion context.
In response, we are sorting out what it means to be genuinely missional, in the sense that getting people back to our facilities or into our programs is not a primary goal, and may not even be important. The missional church functions on a sending model. We are learning to see ourseves as sent out into the community, to connect with people, be a positive influence, and, when given the opportunity, to share the source of our hope.
We don't want to extract people from their current community ties. In fact, we would love it if they began to value Jesus themselves and share that discovery with others they know.
Church, then, becomes not a place to go to or a meeting to attend, but something that simply happens in the context of relationship and communities.
Blessings,
Doug
Community Focused vs. Internally Focused
The modern church has become a monument to itself. Its facilities, services, programs, and ministries are 90% focused within the church, to provide support, encouragement, inspiration, and community to its members. These are not bad things, but they miss the point. The collective mission of the church is to shine the light of truth into dark places; to share hope with the hopeless, and to just generally act and talk as Jesus would for the world's benefit.
When the people of Jesus lose sight of this core mission, they begin to focus, almost exclusively on themselves. The work of real ministry is replaced with the mounting responsibility of keeping happy church members who mistakenly think the church is supposed to revolve around them. At best, the internally focused church becomes isolated from its surrounding community. At worst, it becomes exclusive and self serving.
So the first step towards becoming a missional church is to learn to think outside ourselves; to reacquaint ourselves with the fact that we serve a purpose in the world, and not just within the walls of our facilities.
Missional vs. Attractional
Of course, not all churches become so internally focused. Some are very committed to service within their communities, and to reaching people with their message. We, however, are not only concerned with whether or not the church gets outside of itself, but how it does so.
The accepted standard for church methodology is to initiate benevolent or evangelistic campaigns with the intent of attracting people back to the church. Thus, the church's focus within the surrounding community is almost exclusively on getting people back into the church. The false assumption at work here is that real church and spiritual life take place nearly exclusively within church initiated and controlled environments.
Furthermore, once the church manages to attract someone, it begins to drive a wedge between them and the communities of which they are already a part. Thus, writers like Hirsch and Frost not only characterize these churches as attractional, but extractional, inasmuch as their intent is to attract people to the programs and resources they have to offer, then extract them from their other community relationships.
We believe this creates a bit of an ivory tower. Church people develop a certain arrogance about the distinctions between who is in and who is out of their group. And the mission is compromised in the sense that, in order for people to experience the good news about Jesus, they must enter into and submit themselves to our organized religion context.
In response, we are sorting out what it means to be genuinely missional, in the sense that getting people back to our facilities or into our programs is not a primary goal, and may not even be important. The missional church functions on a sending model. We are learning to see ourseves as sent out into the community, to connect with people, be a positive influence, and, when given the opportunity, to share the source of our hope.
We don't want to extract people from their current community ties. In fact, we would love it if they began to value Jesus themselves and share that discovery with others they know.
Church, then, becomes not a place to go to or a meeting to attend, but something that simply happens in the context of relationship and communities.
Blessings,
Doug
Monday, February 18, 2008
Outlining the Change
We are entering into a phase in our process where, it seems to me, recruitment is the order of the day. We need the help of mission minded people to move forward, and we are seeking them from the outside and the inside. From the outside, we are seeking what you might call "suburban missionaries;" people who will be invigorated by our missional call, and will join us in the endeavor, even if it means changing homes and jobs to do so. We might consider such a call extreme in a domestic context, where missional efforts are generally viewed as secondary to our "real life concerns." But we are looking at our context as no different than a foreign mission field. Relocating and developing your own means of support is not at all unusual for someone going to another country to serve, so why should it be different here? This mission field is in great need of such people; people whose presence is motivated specifically by the mission.
The arrival of missional people from outside our immediate fellowship will, we believe, also aid our efforts to recruit from within the fellowship. The problem, in short, is that we are all way too comfortable with church as we have known it. And that has not required of us much in the way of commitment or sacrifice. Again, the objective is to retrain ourselves to think as we would if we were missionaries in a foreign place. In that context, the work of the mission is front and center. Careers, accommodations and other resources exist in service of the mission. The church as we have known it has never held such expectations of us, and has often actually encouraged us to think of ourselves and our own selfish desires before the mission. Consequently, a great many well meaning Christians maintain the notion that "once I've obtained my arbitrary markers of personal success, I will be in a position to give, serve, etc." This is a sort of American ideal of Christianity: one in which I enjoy such personal affluence that whatever time or financial resources I commit to following Jesus does not really register as a sacrifice on my part. Such assumptions, I would argue, are incompatible with mission.
Recruitment raises a challenge for us, in that it requires that we be able to communicate the mission in a relatively succinct manner. On the surface, this may not seem like that big of a problem, but I've found it very difficult, because our experience of the church as we have known it is so second nature to us that we tend to filter all our information through it. So, if I say our goal is to be more missional, religious people tend to think of mission as they've known it: "My church supports missionaries in Thailand and Bolivia, and we sponsored a community outreach campaign last year." These may be good things, but they do not capture the spirit of what we mean by the term missional. Even my unchurched friends tend to filter what I am saying through the lens of their assumptions and experience of organized religion.
So, it simply isn't enough to state what we are trying to be; we really have to contrast what we seek to become against the status quo alternative. I've done some of that already in this blog, but now I feel the need to become more intentional about it.
What follows is not, at this point, a final draft of these notions, but rather a very rough draft of our emerging mission, as characterized by pairs of opposing ideologies and methodologies. In each pair, the first term represents the church as we believe Jesus intended, which is what we seek to become, and the second represents what the church as we have known it has generally been. Some of these terms I've talked about in earlier posts. The rest I will try to elaborate on in the future. Anyway, here we go. We seek to become:
Community Focused vs. Internally Focused
Missional vs. Attractional
Organic vs. Institutional
Disciples vs. Religious Members
Christocentric vs. Denominational
Incarnational vs. Indoctrinational
Adaptive and Contextual vs. Assumptive and Legalistic
At this point, I'm thinking these seven categories might capture it, but I'm fairly certain I will change my mind about that. As I build on these ideas, I would certainly welcome questions and suggestions.
Blessings,
Doug
The arrival of missional people from outside our immediate fellowship will, we believe, also aid our efforts to recruit from within the fellowship. The problem, in short, is that we are all way too comfortable with church as we have known it. And that has not required of us much in the way of commitment or sacrifice. Again, the objective is to retrain ourselves to think as we would if we were missionaries in a foreign place. In that context, the work of the mission is front and center. Careers, accommodations and other resources exist in service of the mission. The church as we have known it has never held such expectations of us, and has often actually encouraged us to think of ourselves and our own selfish desires before the mission. Consequently, a great many well meaning Christians maintain the notion that "once I've obtained my arbitrary markers of personal success, I will be in a position to give, serve, etc." This is a sort of American ideal of Christianity: one in which I enjoy such personal affluence that whatever time or financial resources I commit to following Jesus does not really register as a sacrifice on my part. Such assumptions, I would argue, are incompatible with mission.
Recruitment raises a challenge for us, in that it requires that we be able to communicate the mission in a relatively succinct manner. On the surface, this may not seem like that big of a problem, but I've found it very difficult, because our experience of the church as we have known it is so second nature to us that we tend to filter all our information through it. So, if I say our goal is to be more missional, religious people tend to think of mission as they've known it: "My church supports missionaries in Thailand and Bolivia, and we sponsored a community outreach campaign last year." These may be good things, but they do not capture the spirit of what we mean by the term missional. Even my unchurched friends tend to filter what I am saying through the lens of their assumptions and experience of organized religion.
So, it simply isn't enough to state what we are trying to be; we really have to contrast what we seek to become against the status quo alternative. I've done some of that already in this blog, but now I feel the need to become more intentional about it.
What follows is not, at this point, a final draft of these notions, but rather a very rough draft of our emerging mission, as characterized by pairs of opposing ideologies and methodologies. In each pair, the first term represents the church as we believe Jesus intended, which is what we seek to become, and the second represents what the church as we have known it has generally been. Some of these terms I've talked about in earlier posts. The rest I will try to elaborate on in the future. Anyway, here we go. We seek to become:
Community Focused vs. Internally Focused
Missional vs. Attractional
Organic vs. Institutional
Disciples vs. Religious Members
Christocentric vs. Denominational
Incarnational vs. Indoctrinational
Adaptive and Contextual vs. Assumptive and Legalistic
At this point, I'm thinking these seven categories might capture it, but I'm fairly certain I will change my mind about that. As I build on these ideas, I would certainly welcome questions and suggestions.
Blessings,
Doug
Friday, February 1, 2008
Breaking Out
One of the things unique about our journey here is that we are an established and modern traditional church, earnestly trying to make the shift to missional thinking. I've come into contact and read stories about many missional efforts, but most of them fall into the category of "church plants." They begin with a different premise, and the people that join the effort along the way are those who embrace that premise.
I don't have church planting experience to which I can compare it, but I do know that starting the missional shift in an existing church setting is difficult on all fronts. I encounter other church leaders who are interested in missional ideals, but more often than not they hope to apply some of these within their existing church structure. I suppose some would characterize us this way, as we retain most of our traditional elements: a church building, Sunday School, Sunday assembly, etc. Though I can say that at multiple levels we've at least been allowed to question these elements.
Hirsch and Frost, in their book The Shaping of Things to Come advocate that we ask really tough questions of ourselves, like, "If you were to start from scratch, would you build the same kind of church?" or "What would our church look like if we had to function without a building or assembly or even full time staff?"
We've been asking these kinds of questions and, to the best of our ability, allowing a safe environment to explore the possible answers. It has produced mixed results, to be honest. For some, these questions have set loose the apostolic imagination. For others, it produces great anxiety and fear. Truth be told, we still have many for whom the building and the assembly are church, though we are constantly trying to improve their definition.
The advantage we have in this process is a touch of desperation. I asked Alan Hirsch about this at a training in Denver. Alan entered into a situation in Melbourne where his hiring was a sort of last stand on the part of the church. If they couldn't turn around their decline, they knew they would have to shut the doors. I asked Alan how important that kind of desperation is to making the missional transition, and he said it was incredibly important. He challenged me to return to my congregation and carefully build the case for what the big problems are, not just in our fellowship but in the decline of modern Christianity across the board. He said that until we have accepted the problem, we will not collectively search out solutions.
So, for us, recent losses in attendance and finances have put us in a position to make changes. There is a fairly broad agreement in our congregation that we cannot continue as we have. Of course, there are a few dissenters. There are those who maintain that things are not all that bad, and that if I weren't always challenging the status quo, we wouldn't have lost the members we have, and all would be right with the world. But for the most part, our people realize you have to keep some serious blinders on to think this way. The only growing churches in our region are primarily tapping off members from other churches. There is little real growth, and very little meaningful engagement with the community. We are, as the adage goes, "preaching to the choir," because no one else is listening.
Thus, I find myself in a rather curious position. A drop in attendance and finance, which is among the greatest fears among modern church leaders, is actually the source of our opportunity. A mild desperation and a sense of urgency has opened the minds and hearts of our congregation's leaders and gatekeepers to new possibilities. These are all good people, who desire to be good disciples. But, let's face it. Few of us will make dramatic changes unless we believe we've no easier options.
As has often been pointed out to me, further losses combined with my own rhetoric about the fallacy of the institutionalized church may result in my talking myself right out of a job. And I have to admit, sometimes that fear gets the better of me. But most of the time I'm too amazed with what God seems to be doing here to spend much time agonizing about the unknowns of my professional future.
So, what exactly is happening? Well, its pretty simple, really. In fact, I'm not sure how much you would notice with a casual look. Since the missional church is an organic movement, and not an institutional approach, there are no new programs or ministries for us to refer to and highlight as "missional." Rather, there is a shift in focus. People are taking the time to build better relationships with their neighbors. They are hanging out in "third places." One of our guys started up a basketball team with a bunch of players he met at the rec center. It's all this kind of thing; people building relationships and having conversations. Not forcing Jesus into the conversation, but trying, as best we can, to represent Jesus as a community.
When we do have an organized activity, such as an upcoming Valentine's Banquet we are sponsoring, our focus is not on getting people to the church building, but on giving our members another opportunity to connect with their friends and neighbors. We encourage everyone who comes to bring a guest with them, not to sign them up for a Bible study or compel them to attend church, but just to show them a good time and to build the relationship.
It's still difficult to escape our institutional notions in defining the church, but I see us slowly opening our eyes to a whole different way of being a people of God.
Blessings,
Doug
I don't have church planting experience to which I can compare it, but I do know that starting the missional shift in an existing church setting is difficult on all fronts. I encounter other church leaders who are interested in missional ideals, but more often than not they hope to apply some of these within their existing church structure. I suppose some would characterize us this way, as we retain most of our traditional elements: a church building, Sunday School, Sunday assembly, etc. Though I can say that at multiple levels we've at least been allowed to question these elements.
Hirsch and Frost, in their book The Shaping of Things to Come advocate that we ask really tough questions of ourselves, like, "If you were to start from scratch, would you build the same kind of church?" or "What would our church look like if we had to function without a building or assembly or even full time staff?"
We've been asking these kinds of questions and, to the best of our ability, allowing a safe environment to explore the possible answers. It has produced mixed results, to be honest. For some, these questions have set loose the apostolic imagination. For others, it produces great anxiety and fear. Truth be told, we still have many for whom the building and the assembly are church, though we are constantly trying to improve their definition.
The advantage we have in this process is a touch of desperation. I asked Alan Hirsch about this at a training in Denver. Alan entered into a situation in Melbourne where his hiring was a sort of last stand on the part of the church. If they couldn't turn around their decline, they knew they would have to shut the doors. I asked Alan how important that kind of desperation is to making the missional transition, and he said it was incredibly important. He challenged me to return to my congregation and carefully build the case for what the big problems are, not just in our fellowship but in the decline of modern Christianity across the board. He said that until we have accepted the problem, we will not collectively search out solutions.
So, for us, recent losses in attendance and finances have put us in a position to make changes. There is a fairly broad agreement in our congregation that we cannot continue as we have. Of course, there are a few dissenters. There are those who maintain that things are not all that bad, and that if I weren't always challenging the status quo, we wouldn't have lost the members we have, and all would be right with the world. But for the most part, our people realize you have to keep some serious blinders on to think this way. The only growing churches in our region are primarily tapping off members from other churches. There is little real growth, and very little meaningful engagement with the community. We are, as the adage goes, "preaching to the choir," because no one else is listening.
Thus, I find myself in a rather curious position. A drop in attendance and finance, which is among the greatest fears among modern church leaders, is actually the source of our opportunity. A mild desperation and a sense of urgency has opened the minds and hearts of our congregation's leaders and gatekeepers to new possibilities. These are all good people, who desire to be good disciples. But, let's face it. Few of us will make dramatic changes unless we believe we've no easier options.
As has often been pointed out to me, further losses combined with my own rhetoric about the fallacy of the institutionalized church may result in my talking myself right out of a job. And I have to admit, sometimes that fear gets the better of me. But most of the time I'm too amazed with what God seems to be doing here to spend much time agonizing about the unknowns of my professional future.
So, what exactly is happening? Well, its pretty simple, really. In fact, I'm not sure how much you would notice with a casual look. Since the missional church is an organic movement, and not an institutional approach, there are no new programs or ministries for us to refer to and highlight as "missional." Rather, there is a shift in focus. People are taking the time to build better relationships with their neighbors. They are hanging out in "third places." One of our guys started up a basketball team with a bunch of players he met at the rec center. It's all this kind of thing; people building relationships and having conversations. Not forcing Jesus into the conversation, but trying, as best we can, to represent Jesus as a community.
When we do have an organized activity, such as an upcoming Valentine's Banquet we are sponsoring, our focus is not on getting people to the church building, but on giving our members another opportunity to connect with their friends and neighbors. We encourage everyone who comes to bring a guest with them, not to sign them up for a Bible study or compel them to attend church, but just to show them a good time and to build the relationship.
It's still difficult to escape our institutional notions in defining the church, but I see us slowly opening our eyes to a whole different way of being a people of God.
Blessings,
Doug
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The Institutional and the Missional Church
I recently developed some graphics to help explain the differences between the institutional church as we have known it, and the missional church we hope to become. I started with the assumption that there is a gap between the Kingdom of the world and the Kingdom of God. The church was intended stand in this gap. In our fellowship, we often refer to the church as a border town, straddling the border between these two Kingdoms. The question we have to wrestle with is what f
orm this border town/gap filling church will take. The church as we have known it is, primarily, an institution, so in my first illustration, I let a traditional church building represent the institutional church.
As a static entity, the institutional church requires support and resources from both the Kingdom of God, and the Kingdom of the world. And, in fact, it assumes the right to both. In this model, Jesus came to establish the church as the center of a new religious system, and now, within the confines of church membership, we have access to God's truth, power, blessing, and forgiveness.
We expect the world to find its way into this institutional church in order to enjoy the benefits of God's Kingdom. And we expect them to bring with them the human and financial resources to maintain the institution.
All of these resources, worldly and heavenly, are consumed in the pursuit of what Dallas Willard has called "sin management." This is, basically, the idea that the entire purpose of the church is to address the problem of sin, either by providing a vehicle by which people seek forgiveness, or a vehicle by which people seek to reverse the negative effects of sin and evil on the society at large. Since we are never done being sinful people, the work of sin management is never done, and the gap becomes more of a sinkhole, continually consuming all the resources the church takes in.
Another option is to imagine the church, not as an institution, but as a bridge. Thus, the objective is not to contain heavenly resources and distribute them within, but to become a sort of conduit through which the Kingdom of God is allowed to invade the world, and the world is granted free passage into the Kingdom of God. This model assumes that Jesus came to infiltrate the world with a Kingdom economy. Rather than establish a new religious system, his intent was to be a conduit between God and man. The church, as the body of Christ, then assumes the responsibility to serve the same mission.
This model is much more consistent with what we read about Jesus. His example suggests that the power, truth, and blessing of the Kingdom was not meant to be contained within religious structure, but was to "bypass the middleman" and come directly into people's lives.
I found these visuals useful in my own process, and I hope they are useful to others.
Blessings,
Doug
orm this border town/gap filling church will take. The church as we have known it is, primarily, an institution, so in my first illustration, I let a traditional church building represent the institutional church.As a static entity, the institutional church requires support and resources from both the Kingdom of God, and the Kingdom of the world. And, in fact, it assumes the right to both. In this model, Jesus came to establish the church as the center of a new religious system, and now, within the confines of church membership, we have access to God's truth, power, blessing, and forgiveness.
We expect the world to find its way into this institutional church in order to enjoy the benefits of God's Kingdom. And we expect them to bring with them the human and financial resources to maintain the institution.
All of these resources, worldly and heavenly, are consumed in the pursuit of what Dallas Willard has called "sin management." This is, basically, the idea that the entire purpose of the church is to address the problem of sin, either by providing a vehicle by which people seek forgiveness, or a vehicle by which people seek to reverse the negative effects of sin and evil on the society at large. Since we are never done being sinful people, the work of sin management is never done, and the gap becomes more of a sinkhole, continually consuming all the resources the church takes in.
Another option is to imagine the church, not as an institution, but as a bridge. Thus, the objective is not to contain heavenly resources and distribute them within, but to become a sort of conduit through which the Kingdom of God is allowed to invade the world, and the world is granted free passage into the Kingdom of God. This model assumes that Jesus came to infiltrate the world with a Kingdom economy. Rather than establish a new religious system, his intent was to be a conduit between God and man. The church, as the body of Christ, then assumes the responsibility to serve the same mission.
This model is much more consistent with what we read about Jesus. His example suggests that the power, truth, and blessing of the Kingdom was not meant to be contained within religious structure, but was to "bypass the middleman" and come directly into people's lives.
I found these visuals useful in my own process, and I hope they are useful to others.
Blessings,
Doug
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Missional Incarnational
I suppose I should begin by explaining what I mean by missional-incarnational church. The terminology is becoming more commonplace in some circles, but these terms are often defined differently by different people. For the long version, read through Alan Hirsch's book, The Forgotten Ways, which is my favorite book on the subject. For the short version, I will offer my own, very simplified explanation.
Missional means that the believers are focused on telling the story of God. In the same way that foreign missionaries are men and women sent to far off places to connect with a culture and share with that culture the faith that sustains them, we are domestic missionaries, sent to connect with our own culture, and the tribes within it, to share our faith. Missional can also be understood in contrast to maintenance. We don't believe the church should exist merely to perpetuate itself or to provide for its members. It should always be focused outward; on blessing others. Or it can be explained in contrast to attractional, meaning that, rather than attracting people to a central location (a church building) we want to be the church living and interacting in a variety of community contexts.
Incarnational means that our objective is to act as the body of Christ. Just as we believe that Jesus is the incarnation of God, we believe we are to become like Jesus to others. If he was loving, compassionate, forgiving, wise, and enlightening to the world into which he entered, then we are called to be the same to the world we live in. We tell an ancient story of loss, hope, and redemption, not only through our words, but in the way we relate to people in our communities, the values by which we organize our lives, and the pursuit of a Christlike character.
So then, we are seeking to be missional and incarnational, a community of faith, living in and among a broader community, teaching others about the Jesus we know, not by indoctrination or assault, but by becoming, as much as we are able, the living representation of Jesus, his teachings, and his ministry.
Blessings,
Doug
Missional means that the believers are focused on telling the story of God. In the same way that foreign missionaries are men and women sent to far off places to connect with a culture and share with that culture the faith that sustains them, we are domestic missionaries, sent to connect with our own culture, and the tribes within it, to share our faith. Missional can also be understood in contrast to maintenance. We don't believe the church should exist merely to perpetuate itself or to provide for its members. It should always be focused outward; on blessing others. Or it can be explained in contrast to attractional, meaning that, rather than attracting people to a central location (a church building) we want to be the church living and interacting in a variety of community contexts.
Incarnational means that our objective is to act as the body of Christ. Just as we believe that Jesus is the incarnation of God, we believe we are to become like Jesus to others. If he was loving, compassionate, forgiving, wise, and enlightening to the world into which he entered, then we are called to be the same to the world we live in. We tell an ancient story of loss, hope, and redemption, not only through our words, but in the way we relate to people in our communities, the values by which we organize our lives, and the pursuit of a Christlike character.
So then, we are seeking to be missional and incarnational, a community of faith, living in and among a broader community, teaching others about the Jesus we know, not by indoctrination or assault, but by becoming, as much as we are able, the living representation of Jesus, his teachings, and his ministry.
Blessings,
Doug
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I'm starting this blog to chronicle my personal experiences as a Christian minister, striving to lead a wonderful little congregation in the Colorado mountains to become a missional, incarnational fellowship. I'm blessed with many people who are prepared to take this journey with me, but I also recognize many hurdles will have to be overcome.
I'm writing for several reasons. I'd like to give members of our fellowship the opportunity to explore missional incarnational concepts with me. I'd like to provide interested members of our community the chance to understand what our fellowship is all about. I'd like to meet others in my area (in the mountains near Denver) who are interested in this kind of life. And I'd like to engage, in conversation, other church leaders who share this passion.
Blessings,
Doug
I'm writing for several reasons. I'd like to give members of our fellowship the opportunity to explore missional incarnational concepts with me. I'd like to provide interested members of our community the chance to understand what our fellowship is all about. I'd like to meet others in my area (in the mountains near Denver) who are interested in this kind of life. And I'd like to engage, in conversation, other church leaders who share this passion.
Blessings,
Doug
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