After my last post I checked on a couple of other blogs I follow and found that they, too, had written about church plants. Hugh Halter's blog and Neil Cole's blog both focused on it, with Cole's blog featuring a long list of the challenges involved. Points well taken in contrast to my "church plants sometimes look like greener pastures" posting.
I have to say, however, the chaos of a missional church setting would be welcome to me. Cole's blog talks about all the weeknight meetings training different groups as they plant home churches. I'd really like to have at least one group of people prepared to be trained for such an endeavor. That's something I'd really like to work towards.
My house is abuzz today with poultry. I've been raising chickens as a sort of hobby, and today I have chicks hatching in an incubator, twenty-six new chicks and four goslings that just arrived from the hatchery, all in addition to my fifteen mature layers and my rooster, Stew. My kids are extremely excited by all this, but to tell you the truth, so am I.
I'd love to feel that way about ministry. I'd love to be caught up in the excitement of things happening at all levels, and life bursting out everywhere. I've been trying for a long time to involve everyone in our congregation in everything we are trying to do, and I think I've only frustrated them and myself. At this point, I think I really need, for the sake of productivity and my sanity, to work intensely with a very small group of people who want to explore all the possibilities of what the church could be.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
Church Plants
About ten years ago my wife and I seriously considered an opportunity to work with a then recent church plant up in Washington State. Ultimately, it didn't seem to be where God was leading us at the time, but I was certainly intrigued by the possibilities. I realize, of course, that church plants have there own challenges and difficulties, but for many in an established church ministry the thought of being in a setting where the church has not had time to accumulate any baggage is very appealing.
Some day I think I would like to be a part of a church plant, though as I've considered all the options and possibilities, I'd be most interested in some kind of home church network. It is my perception, at this point in the journey, that the effort to restore mission and discipleship to the local church is inhibited by the way we structure "church." I believe the home church format better lends itself to these.
One of the things I've learned from colleagues in church plants is it doesn't take long before established church folk start showing up, and bringing their baggage with them. The environment of a church plant is exciting, and inasmuch as American Christianity is very much about pursuing a feeling, that excitement is a draw. The problem is, these church plants often find themselves burdened with the dead weight of Christians who want that excitement but who are not particularly mission minded.
Hugh Halter at Adullam here in Denver is rather blunt on this point. He sees the missional church as made up of those checking out Jesus and those committed to serving him in a missional way. There is no in between. Hugh is rather unapologetic about the fact that the health of the missional church is often dependent on our willingness to invite people to leave if they've no intent to serve.
On the other end of the church spectrum, Saddleback church in CA requires its members to get involved in a ministry, or go worship somewhere else. I wonder how that really works in a mega church setting. I've often seen people sign onto a new ministry and then do nothing about it for years, so they must have some way of holding people accountable.
I know some will perceive of such things as overly controlling, but the American church is deeply afflicted by an audience syndrome. Paul often describes the church as a body, made up of many parts. Well, the American church is about three-quarters appendix. The appendix is a body part with an indefinite purpose, and when it's removed, you don't really notice its absence. That is the effect that audience has on the local church. A few members serve in the various ministries, and the rest observe.
I think that's what happens when mission gets misplaced. In the absence of mission, churches turn inward, and get focused on how we are feeling for Jesus rather than on what we are doing for Jesus. And it's not enough to merely support missions, we need our churches to be populated by people who share a strong sense of mission and calling on the local level.
Some day I think I would like to be a part of a church plant, though as I've considered all the options and possibilities, I'd be most interested in some kind of home church network. It is my perception, at this point in the journey, that the effort to restore mission and discipleship to the local church is inhibited by the way we structure "church." I believe the home church format better lends itself to these.
One of the things I've learned from colleagues in church plants is it doesn't take long before established church folk start showing up, and bringing their baggage with them. The environment of a church plant is exciting, and inasmuch as American Christianity is very much about pursuing a feeling, that excitement is a draw. The problem is, these church plants often find themselves burdened with the dead weight of Christians who want that excitement but who are not particularly mission minded.
Hugh Halter at Adullam here in Denver is rather blunt on this point. He sees the missional church as made up of those checking out Jesus and those committed to serving him in a missional way. There is no in between. Hugh is rather unapologetic about the fact that the health of the missional church is often dependent on our willingness to invite people to leave if they've no intent to serve.
On the other end of the church spectrum, Saddleback church in CA requires its members to get involved in a ministry, or go worship somewhere else. I wonder how that really works in a mega church setting. I've often seen people sign onto a new ministry and then do nothing about it for years, so they must have some way of holding people accountable.
I know some will perceive of such things as overly controlling, but the American church is deeply afflicted by an audience syndrome. Paul often describes the church as a body, made up of many parts. Well, the American church is about three-quarters appendix. The appendix is a body part with an indefinite purpose, and when it's removed, you don't really notice its absence. That is the effect that audience has on the local church. A few members serve in the various ministries, and the rest observe.
I think that's what happens when mission gets misplaced. In the absence of mission, churches turn inward, and get focused on how we are feeling for Jesus rather than on what we are doing for Jesus. And it's not enough to merely support missions, we need our churches to be populated by people who share a strong sense of mission and calling on the local level.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
What About the People?
It's a fine distinction, inasmuch as the people of the church are the church, but I'm not really all that negative about my fellow Christians as individuals. I think the vast majority of the people who populate our churches are sincere, kind, well intentioned individuals who are genuine in their desire to follow Christ.
It's not a doctrine thing either. My evaluation of the American church has nothing to do with who "gets it right." In regard to theology, every Christian fellowship has its strengths and weaknesses, and the grace of Christ covers us rather than individual righteousness.
But I do believe there is something broken. Ultimately, I think we've been lulled to sleep. I'm a big consumer of books and resources that center on discipleship and mission, and there are many such resources to be had. But at some point I begin to realize the reason these books are so popular is we've very little idea how to practice discipleship and mission. These qualities, once fundamental to the identity of the church, are largely dormant.
I deeply appreciate and admire those who are laboring in Christ to restore these qualities, and I'm praying that our little fellowship can grow and thrive in these areas.
It's not a doctrine thing either. My evaluation of the American church has nothing to do with who "gets it right." In regard to theology, every Christian fellowship has its strengths and weaknesses, and the grace of Christ covers us rather than individual righteousness.
But I do believe there is something broken. Ultimately, I think we've been lulled to sleep. I'm a big consumer of books and resources that center on discipleship and mission, and there are many such resources to be had. But at some point I begin to realize the reason these books are so popular is we've very little idea how to practice discipleship and mission. These qualities, once fundamental to the identity of the church, are largely dormant.
I deeply appreciate and admire those who are laboring in Christ to restore these qualities, and I'm praying that our little fellowship can grow and thrive in these areas.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
A Parody?
I've been mulling over a comment in my last post about American Christianity being largely a parody of genuine faith. That sounds pretty harsh, and probably deserves some more attention. I know there are a lot of really great things being done by Christians, the churches they attend, and the parachurch organizations that they staff. I know that most of them are devoted, at some level, to worship and prayer. Most of them do a really good job of caring for one another. The poor and the hungry matter to them.
The old cliche is that Christians are hypocrites, but I find that is generally as true of those who make the accusation as it is of those they seek to describe.
The church is populated by imperfect people (myself included) and it always has been. That's not my beef. I'm certainly in no position to condemn anyone for being a sinner.
What motivates my "parody" comment is a comparison between us and the early disciples. Men and women have been martyred for the cause of the Kingdom, and we are reluctant to be inconvenienced. If I had to summarize what I think is broken, I'd say that instead of following and doing for Christ, American Christians (again, with notable exceptions) are mostly feeling and donating for Christ. Our expectation of church and faith is wrapped up in our beliefs about how it should make us feel.
I meet people all the time who are passionate about serving Jesus. But my impression is the American church is currently overwhelmed with people who are just "feeling good" for Jesus. If they stop feeling good, they'll probably be gone. And there is little sense of any calling or mission they may have that reaches beyond themselves.
I guess it's not hard to tell why people who feel that things are pretty good the way they are find my views overly negative or even threatening. It's a tension I've learned, more or less, to live with.
The old cliche is that Christians are hypocrites, but I find that is generally as true of those who make the accusation as it is of those they seek to describe.
The church is populated by imperfect people (myself included) and it always has been. That's not my beef. I'm certainly in no position to condemn anyone for being a sinner.
What motivates my "parody" comment is a comparison between us and the early disciples. Men and women have been martyred for the cause of the Kingdom, and we are reluctant to be inconvenienced. If I had to summarize what I think is broken, I'd say that instead of following and doing for Christ, American Christians (again, with notable exceptions) are mostly feeling and donating for Christ. Our expectation of church and faith is wrapped up in our beliefs about how it should make us feel.
I meet people all the time who are passionate about serving Jesus. But my impression is the American church is currently overwhelmed with people who are just "feeling good" for Jesus. If they stop feeling good, they'll probably be gone. And there is little sense of any calling or mission they may have that reaches beyond themselves.
I guess it's not hard to tell why people who feel that things are pretty good the way they are find my views overly negative or even threatening. It's a tension I've learned, more or less, to live with.
Friday, April 2, 2010
On the Offensive
Recently I built up a list of offenses with a group of people within my congregation. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I've been depressed and angry and that's been coloring the way I talk to people - not such a good thing. On the other hand, I'm told that no one is questioning my commitment to the truth, and that the things I preach have all been directly from the Bible. So if I tell people the truth, and they get offended, who is responsible for that?
I'm not trying to be flippant here. The fact is, even on my best behavior, I tend to offend people.
Wait a minute. That's not quite right. I mean, it's not like I offend everybody. I offend my fellow Christians. Not all of them, but quite a few of them.
I've been doing some pretty serious soul searching about this. I know there are times I say things that do not, perhaps, need to be said. There are also times that I say things that probably need to be said, but which no one really wants to hear. But I think the real issue is that my fellow believers don't like what I think. And what I think is that, while there are some profound exceptions, I find most of American Christianity to be a parody of genuine faith.
While some have found my observations of the modern church interesting or even exciting, others struggle with them. They find me judgmental and arrogant, I suppose. But it's not like I'm claiming to have done so much better. I'm really not all that impressed with us (the western church), in much the same way that the unchurched are not that impressed with us. This is not what a preacher is supposed to think in the American "evangelist as entertainer and cheerleader" church culture.
When I critique the church, some perceive it as church bashing. They feel like I'm undermining something that is dear to them. But I don't usually think of my comments as negative. If I criticize the way we are, it's usually because I believe we can be better - more Biblical, more Christlike, less worldly.
Still, this is not what many people expect of a preacher today. I'm not at all sure what to do about that.
I'm not trying to be flippant here. The fact is, even on my best behavior, I tend to offend people.
Wait a minute. That's not quite right. I mean, it's not like I offend everybody. I offend my fellow Christians. Not all of them, but quite a few of them.
I've been doing some pretty serious soul searching about this. I know there are times I say things that do not, perhaps, need to be said. There are also times that I say things that probably need to be said, but which no one really wants to hear. But I think the real issue is that my fellow believers don't like what I think. And what I think is that, while there are some profound exceptions, I find most of American Christianity to be a parody of genuine faith.
While some have found my observations of the modern church interesting or even exciting, others struggle with them. They find me judgmental and arrogant, I suppose. But it's not like I'm claiming to have done so much better. I'm really not all that impressed with us (the western church), in much the same way that the unchurched are not that impressed with us. This is not what a preacher is supposed to think in the American "evangelist as entertainer and cheerleader" church culture.
When I critique the church, some perceive it as church bashing. They feel like I'm undermining something that is dear to them. But I don't usually think of my comments as negative. If I criticize the way we are, it's usually because I believe we can be better - more Biblical, more Christlike, less worldly.
Still, this is not what many people expect of a preacher today. I'm not at all sure what to do about that.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Bad Blogger
OK, so its been forever since I posted anything here. I'm a really bad blogger and I know it. I started this blog because people told me it was a great way to create content for our church website, but I'm afraid I still don't get it.
My wife and most of my friends have Facebook accounts, and I don't really get that either. I know it's a good way to keep up with old friends, but it also seems to make your closest friendships more superficial. After a while, it seems to me, people choose to relate via the internet rather than in person. When our friends get together now, they have conversations about what transpired between them on Facebook. It's like they've nothing else to talk about. And the content of these accounts is not exactly profound. It seems to me that our culture has sort of given up on doing or saying anything of significance, and now we just treat the everyday and the mediocre as if it was significant.
Honestly, I feel that way about blogging. I follow the blogs of some of the leaders in the missional church movement. I've read their books and attended their seminars and really benefited from both. Their blogs, on the other hand, not so much. Oh, now and then there is a gem of wisdom, but overall blogging doesn't seem to be about that.
I've been writing a book for the last couple of years. It's not a long book. It should have been finished more than a year ago. But I find when you write a book you labor over every page. It's a huge investment of time and effort, and you want it to come out just right. A blog, on the other hand, requires virtually no investment (no pun intended). Let's face it, if it weren't for blogs and facebook and twitter and all the rest, none of this stuff would ever get written or published, because the vast majority of it isn't all that interesting.
I've been writing this blog for the benefit of a potential audience to thoughts about the missional experience of church. The few replies I've received since I began have mostly been from people who wanted to argue some point only vaguely related to my topic. I figure they can start their own blogs for that. I've decided to stop writing this for other people, and start writing it for myself. God knows I need the outlet, and most of the time I'm probably the only one reading it anyway.
However, one thing I do crave is the opportunity to share the missional journey with others who are taking it. So, if you are on that journey and something that turns up here resonates with you, I'd love to hear from you.
My wife and most of my friends have Facebook accounts, and I don't really get that either. I know it's a good way to keep up with old friends, but it also seems to make your closest friendships more superficial. After a while, it seems to me, people choose to relate via the internet rather than in person. When our friends get together now, they have conversations about what transpired between them on Facebook. It's like they've nothing else to talk about. And the content of these accounts is not exactly profound. It seems to me that our culture has sort of given up on doing or saying anything of significance, and now we just treat the everyday and the mediocre as if it was significant.
Honestly, I feel that way about blogging. I follow the blogs of some of the leaders in the missional church movement. I've read their books and attended their seminars and really benefited from both. Their blogs, on the other hand, not so much. Oh, now and then there is a gem of wisdom, but overall blogging doesn't seem to be about that.
I've been writing a book for the last couple of years. It's not a long book. It should have been finished more than a year ago. But I find when you write a book you labor over every page. It's a huge investment of time and effort, and you want it to come out just right. A blog, on the other hand, requires virtually no investment (no pun intended). Let's face it, if it weren't for blogs and facebook and twitter and all the rest, none of this stuff would ever get written or published, because the vast majority of it isn't all that interesting.
I've been writing this blog for the benefit of a potential audience to thoughts about the missional experience of church. The few replies I've received since I began have mostly been from people who wanted to argue some point only vaguely related to my topic. I figure they can start their own blogs for that. I've decided to stop writing this for other people, and start writing it for myself. God knows I need the outlet, and most of the time I'm probably the only one reading it anyway.
However, one thing I do crave is the opportunity to share the missional journey with others who are taking it. So, if you are on that journey and something that turns up here resonates with you, I'd love to hear from you.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Playing with Jesus?
I stumbled upon something this week that caught me a little off guard. I had read a book review in which the writer lamented the phenomenon of the “cuddly Jesus.” This is the idea that we have sometimes made Jesus so feminine that no self respecting man would want to follow him, and we’ve characterized him as such a safe, passive, “buddy” that really, no one would be inspired to following him.
That struck me as an interesting observation, so I did a search for “cuddly Jesus” to see what other writers might have to say about it. What I got back was information about Jesus “toys.” I’d heard rumors, from time to time, about Jesus action figures, but I had no idea just how many Jesus toys are now available. Most of them seem to be manufactured with good intentions, such as the Jesus puppet, for use in Bible classes and storytelling. The action figures of Jesus and other Bible characters are supposed to help our kids act out their favorite Bible stories. And the plush Jesus dolls (think Beanie Baby) are supposed to help kids “bond” with our Savior. Other toys are so cynical as to be considered blasphemous by some, such as the “Jesus Astronaut Action Figure” (a limited edition, no less) and the various bobble-head and talking dashboard Jesuses.
I am tempted to take offense at these last few products, but I know it is, for the most part, the shallow, card board cut-out version of Jesus that they mock, and not the real, Lion of Judah Jesus. So, I feel obliged to extend some measure of grace, even if I find the some of the offerings pretty tasteless and rude.
Blasphemy, as I understand it, is limited to those who know they are messing with God, and do it anyway. I don’t get the impression the makers of these toys really know who they are dealing with. I mean, if Jesus can hang on the cross and ask his Father to forgive those who put him there because they don’t understand the significance of their actions, then I guess we can handle it when the world gives us some ribbing about our Christian images and idiosyncrasies.
What I actually find more disturbing are the toys intended for our good. I don’t want to be overly pious about this. I can certainly understand the argument that if our children have toys that reflect their favorite heroes, they should have a toy that reflects the ultimate hero of humanity. But there is a definite ironic ickyness to having a Jesus that we can so easily manipulate. Or a Jesus that is perpetually warm, soft, and cuddly. We may well be forging a bond between our kids and Jesus, but what Jesus? Is this the revolutionary Jesus, who upset the social and religious order of things? The Jesus who is the living image of the invisible God? The Jesus who endured death on our behalf and invites us to take up our own cross and follow his example? Is this the dangerous, powerful, and controversial Son of God? Or is this the Jesus that we can leave on the shelf or in the toy box until we are ready to play? Is this the “always a comforter, never a confronter” Jesus that our culture has so embraced?
Perhaps I’m being overly cynical, as I often am. But our world has an infatuation with a Jesus that always affirms, always comforts, always endorses my own plans. He is a Jesus whose actions I can control; whose presence is my decision. He is fun to play with, but He is not the Jesus of the Gospels.
That struck me as an interesting observation, so I did a search for “cuddly Jesus” to see what other writers might have to say about it. What I got back was information about Jesus “toys.” I’d heard rumors, from time to time, about Jesus action figures, but I had no idea just how many Jesus toys are now available. Most of them seem to be manufactured with good intentions, such as the Jesus puppet, for use in Bible classes and storytelling. The action figures of Jesus and other Bible characters are supposed to help our kids act out their favorite Bible stories. And the plush Jesus dolls (think Beanie Baby) are supposed to help kids “bond” with our Savior. Other toys are so cynical as to be considered blasphemous by some, such as the “Jesus Astronaut Action Figure” (a limited edition, no less) and the various bobble-head and talking dashboard Jesuses.
I am tempted to take offense at these last few products, but I know it is, for the most part, the shallow, card board cut-out version of Jesus that they mock, and not the real, Lion of Judah Jesus. So, I feel obliged to extend some measure of grace, even if I find the some of the offerings pretty tasteless and rude.
Blasphemy, as I understand it, is limited to those who know they are messing with God, and do it anyway. I don’t get the impression the makers of these toys really know who they are dealing with. I mean, if Jesus can hang on the cross and ask his Father to forgive those who put him there because they don’t understand the significance of their actions, then I guess we can handle it when the world gives us some ribbing about our Christian images and idiosyncrasies.
What I actually find more disturbing are the toys intended for our good. I don’t want to be overly pious about this. I can certainly understand the argument that if our children have toys that reflect their favorite heroes, they should have a toy that reflects the ultimate hero of humanity. But there is a definite ironic ickyness to having a Jesus that we can so easily manipulate. Or a Jesus that is perpetually warm, soft, and cuddly. We may well be forging a bond between our kids and Jesus, but what Jesus? Is this the revolutionary Jesus, who upset the social and religious order of things? The Jesus who is the living image of the invisible God? The Jesus who endured death on our behalf and invites us to take up our own cross and follow his example? Is this the dangerous, powerful, and controversial Son of God? Or is this the Jesus that we can leave on the shelf or in the toy box until we are ready to play? Is this the “always a comforter, never a confronter” Jesus that our culture has so embraced?
Perhaps I’m being overly cynical, as I often am. But our world has an infatuation with a Jesus that always affirms, always comforts, always endorses my own plans. He is a Jesus whose actions I can control; whose presence is my decision. He is fun to play with, but He is not the Jesus of the Gospels.
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