Moving words from David Cone

On my way home from work yesterday I heard about this exhibit in San Antonio that highlights poverty and hunger in the United States. I just caught the end of it, but was moved by what I heard. I listened as they played clips from the exhibit as people reflected upon times in their lives when they were hungry. It dawned on me as I pulled into my driveway, "I have never been hungry." Now, that sounds like a pretty obvious comment, but I delved into the deeper ramifications of that fact. I've never been hungry. Ever. I've fasted on occasion, but never for more than 36 hours or so - and you don't get really hungry in 36 hours. So to relate to these voices - real people who have experienced real hunger. It was moving to me. Convicting.

It's the last week of Lent, and I feel a sense of accomplishment after having left both candy and pop behind for the duration (though I did have one bottle cap, and Monday convinced myself that chocolate covered cashews were more nut than candy). That's how trite I am. This story helped me stop in the mundaneness of my suburban life and reflect on the hunger pangs that so many people in our world feel. It doesn't make any sense to me, as I sit amidst so much excess it's hard for me to comprehend. I decided it's time for me to feel real hunger pangs. I'm committed to working towards a three-day fast in the near future. Three days seems sufficient for me right now. Just to connect. To reflect. To receive a kick in the butt. A wake up call. People feel this all the time.

Then, to top it off, I am reading Marvin McMickle's book Where Have all the Prophets Gone? with some minister friends of mine, and I came across his quotation of an incredible poem from African American theologian David Cone. It seems timely as I reflect through these things:

I was hungry
And you formed a humanities club
And you discussed my hunger.
Thank you.

I was imprisoned
And you crept off quietly
To your chapel in the cellar
And prayed for my release.

I was sick
And you knelt and thanked God
For your health.

I was homeless
And you preached to me
Of the spiritual shelter of God.

I was lonely
And you left me alone
To pray for me.
You seem so holy
So close to God.

But I'm still very hungry
And lonely
And cold.

So where have your prayers gone?
What have they done?
What does it profit a man
To page through his book of prayers
When the rest of the world is crying for his help?

From Cone's essay entitled "The Servant Church" in The Pastor as Servant. eds. Shelp and Sunderland Pilgrim Press, 1986.

Sermon #5 - Deconstructing Theology Series

Deconstructing Theology #5
Alum Creek Church – January 31, 2010

Growing Pains

I often wonder what it would have been like to be one of the 12 disciples spending a couple of years walking around the greater Jerusalem metropolitan area with Jesus. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Sometimes I wonder if Jesus was a practical jokester. I wonder if he give nooggies to Peter. Did he pull the chair out from underneath Simon before he sat down to eat lunch? Did he have a big appetite? What was his favorite food? What was he like when he hadn’t slept in awhile? Did he ever get irritable? Was he constantly pointing out nuggets of godly truth, or was he more reserved and waited for just the right moment to speak the deep truths of God?
I wonder about those things, mainly because I really have trouble seeing Jesus as fully man. But, I also wonder about those things that would have come about because he was fully God. If I was God, I don’t think I’d have much patience for a lot of things. I definitely wouldn’t have had patience for the disciples listening issues. Just a cursory glance through the New Testament shows you how difficult dealing with the disciples would have been. Here are a couple of times when, if I was Jesus, I probably would have blown my top:
- They were in a boat out on the water when a furious storm came about, and all the disciples were worried like they were going to die or something. Jesus got up and commanded the storm to go away. “Why are you so afraid?” Jesus asked (Matthew 8: 23 – 27)
- Jesus tells the disciples one of his greatest parables in the parable of the soils. He finishes telling the story and the disciples have no idea what he is talking about. He has to explain the parable to them. (Matthew 13: 10 – 23)
- Jesus was walking on the water to get out to the disciples in the boat. Peter piped up and asked Jesus to allow him to walk on the water to Jesus. He took a few steps and then began to sink. (Matthew 14: 29 – 33)
- There were a bunch of children trying to get to Jesus and sit on his lap. It was causing quite a scene, so the disciples stepped in and tried to get rid of the children. Jesus rebuked them and told them to let the children come to him. (Matthew 19: 13 – 15)
- Some of the disciples were arguing on the road who was the greatest in the kingdom. Jesus had to rebuke them and remind them of the way of the kingdom. (Luke 9: 33 – 37)
- Later the disciples saw a man driving out demons in Jesus’ name, but he was not part of the disciples. They told them to stop, but Jesus told them not to stop them. (Luke 9: 49 – 50)
- Then the disciples were not welcomed by the people of Samaria and they asked Jesus if they should call fire down from heaven and destroy them. Jesus turned and rebuked them. (Luke 9: 51 – 56)
- When Jesus was in the garden praying through the things that were about to happen, he went back to check on his disciples – three times – and they had fallen asleep each time. (Matthew 26: 36 – 45)
- When the soldiers came to arrest Jesus and take him away, Peter lunged at the soldier and cut his ear off. Jesus rebuked him and healed the man’s ear. (Matthew 26: 50 – 56)
- Peter disowns Jesus in his final hours. (Matthew 26: 69 – 75)
- Jesus faces the cross alone as his disciples all leave his side.
When you go back and consider these many gaffes of the disciples, it’s amazing,
really, when you think about, that they couldn’t just get it. I mean there he was, every day, sleeping right beside you, eating at your table, patting you on the back, teaching you the truth. Why was it so hard for them to understand? Why was it so hard for them to get it?
Really, the crucifixion was like the disciples’ final exam. They had spent the good part of three years traveling with Jesus, listening to him, and doing their best to get it. He’d been telling them all through the years, “I’m going to tear down this temple and rebuild it in three days”; “the Son of Man did not come to live but to die”; “the Son of Man must suffer a great deal of things.” And they didn’t get it. They failed the test. All of them. They didn’t get any of the questions right. It was like they got the test from the teacher and blank stares fell on each of the disciples as they read the questions. “I wasn’t expecting this.” “I was not prepared for this.” “I don’t think we covered this.”
In the face of the many shortcomings of the disciples, right there in the presence of the messiah, is the glaring theological arrogance with which we so often approach others. As if we have it all figured out. As if our understanding of God and of the Bible and of faith are ironclad. I sometimes wonder if we believe that the disciples failed their final exam at the cross, but then, by the time Pentecost came around and the Holy Spirit descended He fixed them so that they never got anything wrong again and everything was always hunky dory. If you continue to read through the Book of Acts, however, you realize that the Spirit didn’t come and immediately fix all their problems freeing them up to sit around and sing Kumbayah. People started bickering and disagreeing pretty quickly.
Last week we acknowledged that we are going to disagree with each other, and we’re going to disagree over some pretty important stuff. Actually, the Bible has a very pertinent story in regards to navigating our differences.
If you remember back a couple of weeks, we spent some time looking at Peter’s vision of the inclusion of the Gentiles. That week we talked about the challenges Peter had in accepting such a radical vision from God. Peter’s vision, however, didn’t immediately universalize the acceptance of Gentiles by the Christian movement. There was still a great deal of division and disagreement from new Christians, and this disagreement all comes to a head right in the thick of Acts.
Read Acts 15: 1 – 21.
A great debate has arisen. Do the Gentiles have to accept certain Jewish customs to become Christians or don’t they? You can make quite the biblical case that they, in fact, do need to become Jews. That was the point of pretty much the entire Old Testament! But upon hearing the words of the Gospel, these early Christians saw no demand to uphold these Jewish laws. So what do they do? How are they going to decide? Do they take a vote? All in favor of letting them in say, “Aye.” “All opposed, Nay.”
It’s probably important to note here that the important American concept of “majority rules” is not in the Bible. More times than not in Scripture, majority doesn’t rule. In this important matter of the Gentiles, it was not up for taking a vote. Instead, the leaders appealed to what they had witnessed. They didn’t get involved in abstract arguments in regards to interpreting texts, working through backgrounds, contexts, and grammatical nuances . . . instead, they told stories of what they had seen. They couldn’t necessarily explain it. They just told what they had witnessed.
This is where things get kind of tricky. A few weeks ago we talked about how one of the most difficult things in the world to say is, “I don’t know.” Yet, we decided, it was imperative. This morning we go to what is probably the most difficult thing to say, “I was wrong.” This entire group of Jews has to come to terms with the fact that they were wrong. They were all wrong.
I really like that cartoon that is on the front of the bulletin this morning, “I’m not always right, but I’m never wrong.” We may acknowledge up front we’re not always right . . . but to acknowledge that we’re wrong just takes on a more drastic tone – a more humbling tone.
What might be even more threatening to these people than the fact that they were wrong is that their parents were wrong, their grandparents were wrong. Their teachers and rabbis of youth were misled. Everything they knew . . . was wrong. And this is no overstatement. For the Jews to accept the Gentiles was a paradigm shift of monumental proportions and to accept that fact was going to take a great deal of humility.
In the passage Jim read earlier, as Paul ends his letter with several instructions on kingdom living, one of his admonitions is “Don’t put out the Spirit’s fire.” What would it look like to put out the fire of the Holy Spirit? That would be a tough question to ask, “Are you putting out the fire of the Holy Spirit?” How would you answer it? How would you know?
Let’s consider the situation in Acts 15. The Spirit was moving the people of God forward. The Spirit was revealing to the people a new way. The Spirit was making them rethink the things that had been handed down to them. This situation in Acts is quite peculiar. Paul boldly proclaims that the Gentiles do not have to become Jews in order to be saved, but, they still give them a list of “Jewish” requirements they should uphold: “abstaining from food sacrificed to idols, from blood, from the meat of strangled animals and from sexual immorality.”
Why would they still insist on the Gentiles upholding these laws? Here, built into a revolutionizing of the way they understood things, was a sentimentality for those who were having to change. There was a built-in appreciation for how difficult it is to change your mind – to acknowledge that you were wrong.
So as we consider this example for theological division and disagreements, we’re left with a couple valuable insights:
- The leadership of those appointed in invaluable. Over and over again, the Bible cries out in support of our spiritual leaders. When it comes to difficult decisions, this is a very difficult pill for Americans to swallow. We’re used to having our own vote. We’re used to things being settled in our own terms. And yet, the Bible insists we follow our leaders.
- However, this is not a free pass for leaders to do whatever they want. They are to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit. Working against the way we typically understand the world to operate, it is not always the voice of the majority trumpeting the way forward. Paul is clear in his admonition to “Do not quench the Spirit’s fire.” It is important that all of us, especially our leaders take a look inside and consider our openness to the leadership of the Holy Spirit. It is my fear that we are so uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the Holy Spirit that he may very well come and we won’t recognize Him and we will shun him away.
- In the midst of division and disagreement, we have a responsibility to those who are being forced to say, “I’m wrong.” We don’t get to sit back and revel in their loss and pain. Instead we are called to walk beside them, helping them understand that the way forward is better, that we understand their difficulty. “They still got their way,” you may be thinking. Yes, but their way gave way to the Holy Spirit in His time. We don’t still follow those admonitions from Acts, many of those practices are archaic and don’t even make sense any more. Acknowledging that is to take an important step forward in our quest for unity.
In all of this discussion, it is my belief that we must be sure we consider the prompting and calling of the Holy Spirit. How might he be calling us forward today? What changes does He seek in our lives? In our understanding of God?
As we set out to understand God more, as we set out to come to a deeper understanding of him in our life, consider these questions that David Dark asks.
“Will we let the double-edged indictments of the scriptures cut us to the quick creating problems in the lives we are living? Or will we enlist the words to serve only in our projects of self-congratulation, skipping the bits that question our beliefs and practices? Will we read the Bible only to reaffirm our own take on the world?”
When is the last time you said, “I am wrong.” I mean really wrong. When is the last time you were convicted from a passage of Scripture to change a habit or practice that is central to your being? When is the last time you changed your mind? When is the last time when you actually said, “I’m wrong . . . you are right”?
This business of transformation by the renewing of your mind is challenging. If you’re in it for self-affirmation and pats on the back and thumbs up and “Good job!” you better look again at your motives. If you are here to convince everyone of your opinions and positions, if you are here to talk and then listen . . . you need to do some looking inside.
God loves you and He cares for you. He wants what is best for you. And just like when you were a child, what is best for you often times is something that you would not choose for yourself. May God continue to renew your minds, may he continue to reveal your flaws and shortcomings, and may he continue to sweep you up in His grace and goodness.

Sermon #2 in Deconstructing Theology: Unlearning the Rules of Church

Here's yesterday's installment. What do you think?

The Idol of Certainty: When ‘I Don’t Know’ is Good Enough

I’m not exactly sure about the complete makeup of our audience this morning, so I’ll try to speak the next several minute in a bit of code. If you do not follow the code . . . don’t be alarmed, we’ll explain it all a little bit later. I want to begin by discussing the pandemic ruse of little children in Western culture about one Kris Cringle. Take a moment and decipher the code . . . pandemic . . .ruse (trick . . . deception) . . . Kris Cringle . . . got it? OK
I don’t know how everything went down when the ruse was exposed to you, perhaps by your parental units, but all children get to a certain age where they begin to ask challenging questions. They begin to figure things out. There is a bit of unraveling that each child has to go through. What about this and what about that? The big hang up before I could see the light was . . . let’s see if I can be diplomatic again . . . I was very skeptical about the financial capacity of my legal guardians to afford the commercial offerings with which I was given each year – got all that . . . by the way, if your kids are following this discussion, it’s probably time to let the cat out of the bag, Mom and Dad. Although it might be cool to see if you could get a snipe hunting expedition out of them before they get older. In any case, I can still remember trying to rationalize and think through things when it was all crashing down around me.
The fact is we all go through some kind of rite of passage when it comes to some of our childhood fantasies . . . there are others, but I think we’ve risked enough already. In any case, Donald Miller tells a very humorous story on his investigation of this current ruse that I felt is relevant to our discussion this morning. It happened in the bathroom, so be forewarned of some bathroom content. Donald was at a mall to see the big guy, and, before he got in line, he walked into the bathroom. As he stood at the urinal, who should walk up beside him, but the big man himself. Donald’s retelling of the event is worth repeating. . . .
“I remember being at the mall when I was eight and seeing [him] relieve himself in the men’s restroom. I was excited because we were going to see him that day, but I didn’t want to disturb him as he was hardly in his element. I watched him, though, his red suit, his white beard coming down his belly, his loud echoing belch coming off the walls, his spread-legged stance and the way he looked straight up at the ceiling as [he finished up] (original is “shook the dew off the lily, as they say” but I won’t read that]. It was quite an honor to stand next to him and use the big urinal and act like it was nothing substantial to be standing next to him, as though I didn’t even believe in him the way my friends Roy and Travis Massie no longer believed in him. I believed in him, though. . . . edited for reasons of exposing the secret . . .
[Him] In the bathroom was a very tall man, younger than you would think, a bit depressed in the eyes and unshaven under his beard (if such a thing was possible). [He gave his familiar laugh to me,] (ho, ho, ho) zipping up his fluffy pants. I didn’t say anything back. I just stood there and peed on my shoes. He looked at me, raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders and walked out.
That is when I realized the most terrible thing I’d ever realized: [HE] doesn’t wash his hands after he used the bathroom. How awful, I thought to myself. And I was horrified. All those little bacteria, the little flus and colds and cancer bacteria that grow in small villages on a person’s hands if he doesn’t wash them. I could see in my mind the village of bacteria on [his] hands; a kind of Tim Burton version of the microbial North Pole; all the textures and contours of the villages correct, but the colors off; grays for greens, blacks for blues, lots of coughing, lots of mad cows.
I washed my hands and joined the family already in line. I watched [his] dirty hands grab kids to pick them up and set them on his knee. I watched as he patted their backs and, heavens no, their heads. It made me want to throw up, if you want to know the truth. I asked my mother if I could skip my meeting, and she told me I could go across the aisle to Ladies’ Underwear and sit quietly on the floor, which is what I did, sitting there quietly on the floor, pointing women toward lingerie I thought might fit them best, trying to be helpful, trying not to think about the fact that Him, of all people, doesn’t wash his hands.”
Maybe your experience of revelation was similar to this, maybe it wasn’t. We laugh and joke about it now, but when we are faced with that mind-blowing revelation, it’s not the best day of our lives. It’s tough. We get thrown off our equilibrium. It’s like we’re inside a box and the box has been shaken up and turned over multiple times and we have no idea whether we’re on our heads or our feet. “What?” We ask ourselves. “How could we have been so wrong?” It’s a grand revelation that begins a series of dominoes falling on top of the next ones.
And the more confident of that reality that you were, the “righter” that you were . . . the dumber you feel. The harder it is to take. And that may have been the first time when you were that wrong, at least that wrong – and we think to ourselves, we will never be this wrong about anything ever again. But we will be. We all live a lifetime coming to terms with various things that we just knew to be true . . . but aren’t. I’m not sure you can ever get used to that.
And sometimes, I think that what people most want out of their church experience is to know, for a fact, that they are right. They want to know that, at least about one thing in their lives, they can hang their hats on their doctrine, on their belief, and know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, they’ve got it nailed down, they’ve gotten it right. It’s comforting. Reassuring . . . not to mention a little good for the ego.
So, maybe that’s why you’ve come here this morning. For answers – right answers, anyway. Perhaps you’ve come here to sing the right songs, sung the right way, and hear the right message preached, preached the right way.
And in your defense . . . through the years . . . the church has become very good at being answer providers. Give us your questions, we’ll give you the answers. You leave happy because you got an answer to your question and we’re happy because you asked us a question and we still feel needed in society. But last week we looked at how the church’s answers haven’t always been right. They were experts of astronomy assuring everyone that the earth was the center of the universe . . . and . . . yeah, they had Scripture’s support for that. And we share in that same question . . . “How could they have been so wrong?”
I wish I had more answers. I really do. I wish the Bible gave us more answers. I wish the Bible would be more direct and specific at times. I wish God himself would come down and whisper the answers to the test questions in my ear. I wish that, when my son asks me “Dad, why did Jesus have to die on the cross for me?” I had a better answer to give him. I wish I didn’t have to stammer and stutter through something that is at the core of my faith.
There’s an old story in the Bible that teaches about someone who wish he had more answers. Many people believe that the story of Job is the oldest text in the Bible. It’s one of the most compelling stories in all of literature. The story of this fine, upstanding citizen, who has everything taken from him. Job, you may recall, had things figured out pretty well.
Read Job 1: 1 – 5.
Job was deeply religious. He watched out, not only for himself, but his entire family, offering sacrifices for their behalf and purifying them after feasts. You have to imagine that Job had a pretty good hold on things. He didn’t ask a lot of questions as he may not have felt the need to.
He was the guy you went to when you wanted advice, when you had questions. And then the tests begin . . .
In the first test Job loses his wealth and his children.
In the second test Job loses his health and his well-being.
After the storm of events, the only thing he has left is a wife who tells him to curse God and die, three friends who are going to spend the rest of the book trying to convince him that he obviously did something wrong to deserve this punishment, and many, many questions:
· “Why didn’t I die at birth as I came from the womb?” – 3:11
· “Why should light be given to the weary, and life to those in misery?” – 3: 20
· “Why won’t you leave me alone, even for a moment?” – 7: 19
· “What have I done wrong?” – 13: 23
· “Who can create impurity from one born impure?” – 14: 4
· “Where do people find wisdom?” – 28: 12
What was happening to Job didn’t fit in his way of understanding. That, perhaps, was
the cherry on top of his trial – he didn’t understand it. Notice how so many of the questions begin from the lips of Job . . . Why? He just wanted some answers. He wanted to be able to understand it. He wanted to place it into some kind of frame of reference, have some bearings about the whole thing. Anytime you are around someone who is experiencing a devastating tragedy the question they are quickest to ask is, “Why?” “Why is this happening?” If he had an answer it would make the pain at least a little more bearable. Job really makes this clear in the questions he asks in chapter 31:
- “Have I lied to anyone or deceived anyone?”
- “Have I refused to help the poor or crushed the hopes of widows who looked for me to help?
- “Have I been stingy with my food and refused to share it with hungry orphans?”
- “Have I put my trust in money for felt secure because of my gold?”
- “Have I looked at the sun shining in the skies, or the moon walking down its silver pathway, and been secretly enticed in my heart to worship them?
- “Have I ever rejoiced when my enemies came to ruin or become exited when harm came their ways?”
- “Have I tried to hide my sins as people normally do, hiding my guilt in a closet?”
“Just tell me what I’ve done!” comes the plea from Job. In tragedy we often focus
solely on the emotional aspect because it is so important and so fragile, but there is also a cognitive or rational aspect that has been effected – a side that says, “This doesn’t make sense.”
And then God speaks . . .
Read Job 38: 1 – 7.
And on and on God goes justifying His position as the God of the universe. The final chapters of Job are perhaps the most emotive of the entire Bible. The entire book has been building and building to this moment. Questions flying back and forth. Accusations flying back and forth, and then, finally, comes an answer . . . but not really an answer.
Job first responds with these words from Job 40: 3 – 5:
“I am unworthy – how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth. I spoke once, but I have no answer – twice , but I will say no more.”
In other words, Job is finally moved to saying, “I don’t know.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t like to say, “I don’t know.” Have you seem that commercial where the guy can’t get, “I love you” out of his mouth to his girlfriend”? That’s how I am about saying, “I don’t know.” Really, that’s how we all are. But being a parent has made it a little easier. Clark is full of questions, and I try to shoot back as many answers as I can, but he always gets to a question where I finally have to give in and tell him, “Clark, I don’t know.”
I think that the church is a lot like that when it comes to saying “I don’t know.” It’s almost as if we feel like telling someone “I don’t know” exposes us or lets them down. After all, we are Christians, part of the church, and we are supposed to be answer people. In reality, however, I think a lot more people would care more about what we had to say if we said, “I don’t know” more often. I like this quote from Donald Miller, which he writes just before the story we opened with:
“The very scary thing about religion, to me, is that people actually believe God is who they think He is. By that I mean they have Him all figured out.”
I know it is a lot more appealing for me to stand up here and give you all the answers. However, it is a lot more realistic to stand up here and tell you that more times than not, “I don’t know.”
This doesn’t mean that we jettison all the things that we believe. Instead, it means that we preface our beliefs with . . . this is how I understand God for now – but I’m certainly open to new ideas and new conversations. Consider some of these difficult questions:
· Does a person who has never heard about God go to hell?
· If a person isn’t baptized but shows all the fruits of the spirit in their lives, are they a Christian?
· What’s the “biblical” role of women in Christ’s church?
· What does the Bible teach about homosexuality?
· Are all people from other faiths hell-bound?
Imagine the difference in starting a conversation on these matters in humility stating,
“I really don’t know, I have some opinions . . . but I’d like to talk to you more about it” instead of, “I’ve got a pretty good idea, but you can try and convince me otherwise.”
I know this probably scares some of you to death because it speaks so contrary to everything you’ve ever heard in churches your entire life. Doesn’t the church have any authority? Isn’t there any truth to hang our hats on? I want to close with this story I ran across in my reading this week that I think speaks volumes for a new understanding of the identity of the church.
In some farming communities, the farmers might build fences up around their properties to keep their livestock in and the livestock of neighboring farms out. This is a bounded set. But in rural communities where farms or ranches cover an enormous geographic area, fencing the property is out of the question. In our home of Australia, ranches (called stations) are so vast that fences are superfluous. Under these conditions a farmer has to sink a bore and create a well, a precious water supply in the Outback. It is assumed that livestock, though they will stray, will never roam too far from the well, lest they die. That is a centered set. As long as there is a supply of clean water, the livestock will remain close by.”
We are so preconditioned by the idea of putting up doctrinal fences all around us, that most of us have never thought about another way. When there are fences erected, absolution is the stated case. We are stating, “We are right, absolutely, and there is no room for discussion.”
“But there are some things we know we are right about,” comes the response. Let’s make those the well at the center of who we are that keeps us together. Read 1 Corinthians 15: 3 – 8. Paul shares with us what those things are. As a church, let’s place these things at the center of who we are and anchor there, and leave some room for those who may differ on the other things.

I lost my footnotes on the copy - the Santa story comes from Donald Miller's book Searching for God knows what and the ending story from Hirsch and Frost is from The Shaping of Things to Come.

Hopeful Fruit #1 - The Autonomy of Churches of Christ

As I looked over the apple tree in my backyard, considering the harvest cycle that was now coming to an end, there were a few apples that actually made it to fruit. Not all these apples, to be sure, were created equal. Most of them died off before they became edible. A few of them made it some time further, but then were attacked by squirrels realizing their demise at the hands of these neighborhood pests. There were exactly three that made it long enough to actually become part of our dinner one night recently. As I assess the hope-filled fruit dangling from the apple tree of the tradition of Churches of Christ, I see an equal disparity in the fruit. While each of the fruit I mention offers hope, they do so at differing levels. So, I thought I would begin here with what I believe to be the most promising of the fruit.

I have become convinced that the single-most promising characteristic of the Churches of Christ as they engage in their ministry in the postmodern world is their commitment to congregational autonomy. From my earliest days in Churches of Christ, I have known that the Bible taught "autonomy." I think I was in college before I really understood what that meant. In a nutshell, our autonomy in Churches of Christ can be well-illustrated in business-terms: each congregation is locally owned and operated.

While the basis of this self-understanding in Churches of Christ stems from the belief that the autonomous churches in Acts serve as an example for how churches should operate today, the richness of a locally-run congregation is quickly becoming realized throughout Western Christianity. As culture deepens in its skepticism and distaste for globalization and cookie cutter development, hungering for creativity and authenticity, it seems to me that an autonomous church offers an organic structure that is both biblical and culturally significant. In Christian leadership circles, a localized approach to church dynamics is gaining momentum across the denominational spectrum (just a few recent examples are : Doing Local Theology, Preaching as Local Theology and Folk Art, It Comes from the People, Organic Leadership and Finding Organic Church).

What many see as innovative, Churches of Christ have maintained throughout its relatively short history. One of the most enigmatic qualities among Churches of Christ have been their relative homogeneity despite their autonomous claims. Although we have claimed to be autonomous, our practice has not been fully so. Congregations of Churches of Christ in settings as diverse as Boston to rural Pennsylvania, Texas, coastal California, Florida, and the Midwest all, for some time, have looked eerily similar. While there is no organizational hierarchy declaring edicts on church policy, the schools, literature, and lectureships training our leaders clearly have had a great deal of influence throughout these churches. But, should autonomy be limited to describing the lack of a denominational head quarters? Is there not more implicit in the reality of autonomy? Haven't we missed a great deal of our freedom?

Today, many in Churches of Christ find their Mecca in the Bible Belt of the South East or on the prairies of central Texas. In my ministerial interaction with those in Central Ohio, I am amazed when I come across ministers and elders who seem more concerned with what is happening at a school or lectureship hundreds of miles away than with the decisions of the local governments and churches within minutes of where he lives. I conclude that autonomy very well may be the best thing we have going for us . . . but it also may be the most widely misunderstood and undervalued.

I challenge us in Churches of Christ to take the autonomous heritage of which we have been the benefactors, and explore its deeper implications. What would it look like to be a truly autonomous agency of the kingdom? No denominational boundaries. We would be just as interested in the preaching and teaching of the Vineyard Church here in Columbus as we would the others who share our name. We would be willing partners in worship and fellowship at any time and with anyone whose sole aim was to lift up the name of Christ. And we would invite others to the table with no strings attached. We would converse and share, listen and learn. We would be more engaged locally allowing our theology and ecclesiology to emerge from within the voices of people we love and share with and worhsip beside. The oldest and the youngest would have equal say with great theological forefathers who are also part of our tradition. Our conversations would begin with empathy and care instead of doubt and hesitancy.

The future will be bright in Churches of Christ if we can further grapple with this notion of localizing our theology and practice. We can be proud of our heritage when we are about forming disciples instead of creating adherents. That is the duty of the church . . . and far too often we have gotten in the way. There is much to be said for the baggage that denominational structures bring. This post simply touches the surface of what I believe to be our most enduring and important characteristic. We live in a world who is much less interested in the position our denomination takes on homosexuals - though they will make judgments based on that (what edict has been sent down from your ruling body?) than in our local manifestation of the love of God (do you love homosexuals? can I tell that you love them?)

With the emergence of micro-narratives and village theology, the localized, contextual congregation has as much potential as ever. However, in order to embrace this potential, we must learn to listen, open ourselves, and be ourselves: here and now.

The Apple Tree in My Backyard

I contacted a publisher about a year ago concerning an idea for a book I had. Nearly a year went by, and I hardly gave it another thought after I clicked send. Lo and behold, this summer I got an out-of-the-dark response that said there indeed was some interest and to start working on a formal proposal. Well, nearly two months have passed and I am no closer now than I was then to beginning anything formal. In the meantime, I haven't found much time to blog either. So . . . I found myself in my office today trying to avoid going home to my truck that won't start and my head kind of burned out from typing out leadership material all day long . . . and I thought I would try to work on some of both. So . . . on the Supermetz blog today, I am revealing this proposal that has piqued some interest.

Before we get too carried away here, I plan to be working on something with an extremely narrow focus - particularly within the group of churches within which I work called the Churches of Christ. I have taken many reflections from my years among them and have been asking the question, "Why is everyone leaving?" Now, there is a larger epidemic among all evangelical churches in America, and that no doubt those same problems are contributing to our group just as much. But what concerns me is the large number of friends that I have, strong Christians with many gifts to offer our churches, who are leaving the Churches of Christ to find a place elsewhere. These friends of mine cross the gamut of thought within our churches: progressive, liberal, traditional, conservative, whatever - there are so many leaving for other fields. Why is that? I am setting out to ask that question of folks who, like me, are sticking it out, often times while beating our heads against the wall, but remaining within the tradition which has helped shape my faith most dramatically.

So . . . with that much stated, I would like to post here, some opening thoughts from what, hopefully one day will be an introduction. [Warning: At this point, the post could get rather long, so if you've read this far, come back and check out the second half on a future lunchbreak]

My wife and I moved into our house on Main St. five years ago. Like all young married couples, we were excited about this major future-defining purchase that we had made (OK, major understatement). As we considered the number of bedrooms and bathrooms and squarefootage among other house-suitors, I was always drawn to the backyard. Growing up on a sprawling lot in the country surrounded by trees, I knew the metropolitan setting of suburbia was going to be a challenge for me. Sprawling country acreage was never within our financial means, so I settled for a big backyard, and our first house on Main St. has a nice big backyard where I spend as much time as I can.

One of the most striking features of our neighborhood is the trees. There is a sign on our street that decrees Westerville, OH as "Tree City USA." I'm not exactly sure what that means, but what I do know is that we have many large and beautiful trees in our neighborhood. As we visited potential houses five years ago, we saw many houses that were nicer, newer, and larger than ours but few had trees as large as the ones at our house. Directly behind our house is a beautiful silver maple tree that seems to stretch forever towards the sky. It has such beauty that I am willing to ignore the numerous large branches it has lost since we moved in - even the ones that have scraped our gutters. Behind the silver maple is an even more impressive sugar maple - a beatiful sight particulaly in the fall. In the back corner of the yard are two pine trees that shade our hammock in the summer. And just a few feet from one of those pine trees is a large apple tree.

When we first moved into the house, the trees hadn't been trimmed in many years. My first mowing experience was similar to running an obstacle course dodging hanging branches and low-lying limbs. The overgrown limbs greatly hid the beauty of our backyard. As a matter of fact, during our first year in the house, I didn't even realize we had an apple tree. Fall came and went and there were no apples on the tree. However, thanks to my pruning, when the next spring came around, the apple tree was full of the most beautiful blooms filling the air with their sweet fragrance. The scent was no guarantee of the apple harvest, however, as the blossoms gave way to small fruit. The fruit never matured, and we ended up with a tree full of rotten half-grown apples. Upsetting to us tenants, but great news for the local squirrel community.

The half-grown apples were a disappointment, but it was encouraging to know that we had made some progress. I was committed to giving the tree constant TLC and to willing it on towards a more bountiful future. And the tree reponsded. Unfortunatley, just as the tree seemed ripe for a large harvest, it was nearly destroyed by Ohio's first hurricane. (Really, Ohio had a hurricane!) One large gust sent the top-part of the neighboring pine tree right on top of the apple tree I had been caring for. So much for the progress!

This year I have done my best to salvage our apple tree. I trimmed all the branches that were damaged by the pine tree. I cleaned out all the dead branches and limbs. This spring there were but a handful of blossoms, but it looks as though it is going to make it. The handful of blossoms gave way to exactly three apples. Because there were only three, I gave these apples special attention. I did my best to nurture them keeping them free of insects and harm. Slowly, across the summer, all three of these apples matured right in front of our eyes. It was the most beautiful sight - these three apples hanging alone on this large, damaged apple tree.

I want to use this apple tree as a metaphor for the Churches of Christ. The tree has been beat and battered by the weather. It has been split by the storms life has rained down upon it. In the same way, the Churches of Christ have been beat and battered with storms of their own: divisions, scandal, and tension. And these churches have not been left unharmed. Unity has been the chief victim, but there are others. As I sat looking at my apple tree last fall after the hurricane, questions that I have had about the Churches of Christ seemed dually applicable - is she going to make it? Will she continue to bear fruit in the future? Is this the end? Has she finally been beaten into irrelevance? Does she have anything left to offer? Am I wasting my time trying to save her?

It's important to note here that in my analogy there are other, larger, more healthy trees in my backyard. Sure, they all have their problems: the silver maple has a disease that my kill it one of these days, the pine tree that took out the apple tree is missing its top half, and the sugar maple badly needs pruned. These are the other denominations. There are other, older, solid parts of the kingdom living out the Gospel alongside us. There are also some smaller shoots that have taken root and they that may or may not make it into adulthood - other denominational movements that continue to grow and shoot off from the others. In this analogy I am certainly not concerned that the church is by anyway defeated. This is an intramural dialogue for those of us associated with Campbell, Stone, and the boys.

There are some reasons to throw in the towel and give up hope - any Google search of "Church of Christ" can affirm that. And yet, like my apple tree in the backyard, there seems to me to be a few pieces of beautiful fruit still hanging from the tree, not ready to completely fall to the ground, giving up. This fruit needs nurture and attention. It needs time and care.

In the work that I have proposed, and will be fleshing out here in the months to come, there is some productive fruit still hanging from the group of disciples who call themselves "Churches of Christ." This group increasingly grows diverse and discussions about them grow increasingly complicated - but perhaps, considering the complicated postmodern matrix of the Western world, that in and of itself is one of those pieces of hopeful fruit.

In the next several series of posts I'll be addressing what I believe to be the most hopeful pieces of tradition in the Churches of Christ. This work will be divided into two sections: Hopeful Fruit and Pruning Shears. While there may be some hopeful fruit dangling from our tradition, there remains at the same time some major obstacles to our growth that will require pruning. In the coming months I'll be soliciting fellow ministers who are in a similar place to me to reflect on these areas offering practical and timely suggestions on how we might save our apple trees - if that is in fact what God wants us to do.

I would invite those of you in these churches to post thoughts and ideas about some of the hopeful fruit you see in our movement as well as other harmful limbs that you feel need to be pruned. I am continuing to assemble a group of writers with topics on this issue and would benefit greatly from hearing the ideas of others. I'll be copying this post throughout on the like-minded group site: Post-Restorationist Perspectives. I hope you enjoy!

Hope for Churches of Christ in Ohio

I want to continue in my postings about my Christian tradition. I spent some time in my previous post reflecting upon my upbringing in the small, backwards Defiance Church of Christ. I began my current ministry position five and a half years ago at a Church of Christ in northern Columbus, OH. Our church is on the very outer-fringes of the Columbus suburbs. It's about two and a half hours from Defiance. In the years I've been in Columbus, the atmosphere of the Churches of Christ I've experienced has been incredibly disappointing and frustrating. I suppose the phone book (and Mac Lynn) probably find evidence of about 25 - 30 "congregations" in the Columbus area. There are a few large enough to be multi-staffed (Fishinger and Kinney Rds., Spring Rd., Northland, Reynoldsburg, Genessee Ave. - Gennessee Ave. is a predominantly black congregation, and while it defies everything I believe to treat them differently, the fact of the matter is, in this conversation, they are a bit different), and Marysville. Also could be included is Heath and Lancaster, but they are a bit futher away. In any case, there are a few.

Columbus, OH is the 15th largest city in the United States. Perhaps you are surprised. I am. For a city that size, our particular denomination is very under-represented. What is more disappointing, is that the few churches that are here don't have much to do with each other. I mean, I know that churches are kind of known for not getting along, but seriously, the churches in Columbus, OH don't care too much for each other. I hardly ever talk to any of the other ministers. I am good friends with one of them, but the others I probably talk to less than once or twice a year. Perhaps that is because I am not making the effort . . . but neither do they. To show that it is not all on me, when I first came to town I tried to begin a regular lunch meeting with the youth ministers - there were about five or six of us at the time . . . we met a few times, then it flopped. Some of the ministers have been here for a long time, most of us have been here from between 5 - 10 years. From my best judgement, this is a deep-seeded disunity that goes back many decades - and there looks to be no progress in sight.

I have met a few ministers from a little further away - Jeff Slater in Ashland, Russell Howard and Matt Dahm in Marion. I could list a few others - but only a few. I went out of my way to attend a meeting in Marion that I didn't find too beneficial simply because I felt it was a good offering of fellowship on my behalf. I have attended events and brought teens and children to local events simply to be supportive. Seldom has that support been reciprocated. I'm not trying to sound high and mighty here either - I repeat, I have failed in this manner as well. I believe this group of churches is in some trouble.

The more conservative churches in the area (Fishinger and Kenney, Alkire Rd., Pataskala, and some others) do a much better job of communicating and associating with one another. They are united by some of their simliar antiquated events such as Bible bowls and such. (Alkire Rd. actually has a school where they offer Bible classes). I commend them for much of their efforts, while choosing to disagree with a great deal of their theology. I see some positive organizational points for them, though I think they may be dying under their oppressive and judgmental theology.

There are a few other chruches that lean more towards the center of "mainline churches of Christ" but are a little on the outs with the more conservative groups mentioned above. That leaves three or four of us others. These other churches (and ours probably leads the way) find ourselves in a theological quandry. We know we we are not "them." About half of our membership consists of people "born and raised" among churches of Christ. Several, however, have been burned by previous churches due to situations of divorce or other tragedies. Many find themselves here because they don't really know where else to go. We don't lose many members to other Churches of Christ . . . instead we tend to be the last church on their way out of the movement altogether.

Our church is different. Two of our elders are in their second marriage (all these situations are complicated, but people in most traditional churches of Christ would probably not be too excited about the details of either of these cases). We have claimed to be a grace-oriented church before it was cool. We don't know much of what's going on in our "brotherhood." We use instrumentally-accompanied tracks on occassions - though we usually don't sing with them. We have used women in an expanded use on occassion - though not regularly. More than anything, we aren't afraid to talk about anything. With all that said . . . we still don't have much of a sense of who we are.

Probably half of our church has been with Churches of Christ for quite some time, but we have a sizeable minority who have no clue about these things. We regularly have visitors, some who stick around even though we are a cappella, who don't know much about us. Our four elders all are "born and raised" church of christers. Both ministers are too. And none of us have any idea what to do.

Some of our members fit nicely in the Church of Christ mold, and would like it if we stand there. They seem really hell-bent on insisting that. We have another sizeable number who fit more in-line with an evangelical mold. They enjoy reading and listening to authors, pastors, from evangelical churches and attend concerts and events that are mainly evangelical. Then, there's a small minority who probalby empathize more with a mainline denominational structure (we have two Catholics who attend regularly for one example - though, of course, they are not considered "main-line").

In addition to these problems, our small membership (100 or so) live in a radius that comes close to surpassing 50 miles. We live in five or six different counties. All in all, it's a mess. And honestly and truly, I have no idea what to do. It'd be a lot easier, as I've stated before, to start a new church. Little of the emergent and missional ideas I read about and empathize with are prepared for any mileage here. Our baggage is immense. And, all the same, I figure we have it a whole lot better than many in our movement.

To make a long post longer, I think Churches of Christ in Ohio are in trouble - especially, and ironically, the progressive ones - or open ones - or whatever you call us. (Maybe confused ones). We have, probably more than anything, lost our mission. We've been so caught up in the newfound freedom in worship that we found two decades ago, that we've never moved beyond that. Now, so much of our time (and especially my time) is caught up in a two-hour event on Sunday mornings. We are currently a church culture more obsessed with the "correct way to conduct an hour-long worship service" than bringing hope, justice, and love to a dying and decaying world. That is a problem . . . and a big one . . .and I sure hope we can take a few very small steps in overcoming that in the coming months . . . perhaps God will allow us through our repentance to participate alongside him - and stand back and watch.

Women

Brian made a comment in my previous post that I wanted to address more fully here. This article is interesting along these lines. The discussion of women in ministry and leadership positions within churches needs to be freed from the context of the Sunday morning "worship" setting. So much of the discussion in churches like mine focus on what women can and can't do in the worship setting. I don't claim to walk moral high ground here - most of my discussions revolve around the same issue. Here's the deal - this issue scares people to death! We are afraid to talk about it, we are afraid to study it, we are just afraid.

Here's a little perspective of where I'm coming from. I grew up in a traditional, old-fashioned 1960's era Church of Christ in the northwest part of Ohio where there are approximately one church per county. We had 50 folks on a good Sunday. The church had no elders, but made decisions in "men's business meetings." My dad has never really gone to church thereby giving my mom no voice into the decisions of the church - a church that she was one of the most active people. However, once I was baptized, I got a vote! So . . . at 15 years old, I had a voice on the decisions of the church . . . but my 40 year old, life-long Christian mother did not. Even before I had thought much about anything, something seemed screwed up about this.

I moved on to Lipscomb University where all of my Bible classes were taught by men (white men, at that, but that is another story). I worked for a church for four years where I met my first minister who was a woman - our children's minister was a part-time minister, and our preschool director was a woman. These two women were the first women I had ever seen stand up in front of a church and talk - they made periodic announcements. Even this became a talking point among the elders and ministers there at times. The ministers saw no problem with it, but the elders "had to be sensitive to those in the congregation who could have issues with it." The inclusion of women elsewhere in the service was limited to women singing with microphones in the praise team, and occassionally running the sound board. Oh yeah, and our janitor was a woman. When it came to decision-making, the gender barrier was most prevalent. Most/all decisions were made on Sunday afternoons in a board room with the (all-male) elders.

In my first full-time ministry setting (in which I still serve) I have found a bit more inclusion, but only minimal. It seems to me what drives the issue as much as anything is practicality. If there are fewer numbers and more "able-bodied women," there are more opportunities afforded. Our particpation on Sunday mornings has mainly been through the public reading of Scripture. We had one of our teens (with her brother and dad) read through a Scripture in a traditional sense (up front, behind the pulpit) only once. One person got up and left. There were others a bit offended. We have done it more frequently without the person being in front. To answer Brian's question from the previous post, we've gone about it this way:

Frankly, I have pushed this issue. Those reading this blog from my church are aware of that, but I feel especially passionate that we have not afforded women the role in our churches that they deserve. I have publicly made that statement. I believe that the church has proliferated a world-wide culture of oppression, and are slowly awakening to it. I have tried to be soft and subtle. The elders have attempted to teach on this issue: when we set out to do a study of the issue a few years ago, one family left simply because we set out on the study, and few people cared to attend. My interpretation of this is that everyone already has their mind made up, they just want to be told what direction the church is going to go. Following the class, (and this gets at the shortcoming that the article decries), nothing really changed. I have set out the following "roles" of our service I believe we can most easily and most quickly include women: our formal announcements (this is a no-brainer for me), serving communion, leading public prayers, reading Scripture. Except for reading, we have not yet expanded in the other directions. There is plenty of work to be done through these issues, but it doesn't even get at the more difficult issues of "presiding" over the Lord's Supper, sharing testimonies (which we have done on several occassions, and what my church in Nashville would do), and the two biggies that I don't see as realistic in this setting: preaching and eldership.

I have completely changed my mind in this area. I was open, but always traditionally conservative right up through graduate school. John Mark Hicks challenged me on the issue, he does not believe women are called to serve as lead pastors or elders, and I wrote a paper reaffirming this. Perhaps it was giving in for a good grade, but I like to think I wrote what I believed. However, I have come to see Scripture differently, more organically and alive. It seems to me as though people who want to limit women's participation are failing to recognize a great working of God in our world today.

Our elders have recently retaken this issue up for study. In some ways it highlights the challenge of our leadership structure as our four elders have different perspectives on the matter. In the end, I think we can talk all we want about including women in these positions and that may or may not change things (though, of course, I hope it does), however, this process, is itself foiled. Four men, talking among themselves, deciding where they stand in this area that affects half of our population? This does nothing but further the problem. The real issue, as I've come to recognize it (mostly thanks to my wonderful wife) is that women are never consulted, appreciated, heard in these discussions. Our traditional structures of leadership have no place for women's voices. This is the issue that we should focus on. Most women in our churches are the product of an environment where their voices have not been heard or respected, and that makes the initation process all the more challenging. Just because she's a woman, she may or may not believe her role should be expanded - but surely she believes her voice can be heard more seriously.

This is a very challenging topic of discussion for any church. It brings into play so many prejudices and traditions. It is difficult to have an open and positive discussion without falling into negativity. However, it is a conversation that must take place. Now, having two daughters, I am more committed than ever to helping people overcome their bias and their misinterpretion of this critical area of faith. Oh to be a part of a church that no longer dwells on such issues, but has moved on to the meatier areas of faith.

The Challenge of Working in an Established Church

Through my years in seminary and in ministry, I have often met people who have had their hearts set on planting a church or entering foreign (or domestic) mission work. I can quickly say that I've never shared that desire. I guess when I was a freshman in college I did declare "Missions" as a major, but I don't remember ever taking that seriously as a consideration for my profession. And while I've entertained church-planting on a lot of Mondays, I've never really considered it seriously. I've always been committed to working in an established church. And I often think I am a moron for doing so.

My first reaction to someone working in church planting is, "Man, that must be tough!" I can't even imagine where to begin. However, when I really begin to consider the differences of going at it alone like that and trying to navigate the incredibly complex waters in an already-established church, I think I'll take it back. I actually think it would be easier.

I do have my reasons for choosing an already-established church. If I'm being honest, there has to at least be some element of security in there. A church that has already been around for 50 years is more likely to be around for another 50 than a church that is just starting out. I have seen statistics that show, in the life of a church, the first ten years are the most likely years a church experiences growth. In addition to that, too many church plants end up being demographically uniform with little diversity - at least in age and life experience. Granted, working with a group of people who are mostly my age and in my life stage is incredibly appealing. However, it also seems anemic. The homogeneous church does not seem to be a biblical church. Paul's letters to the Corinthians sure wouldn't make much sense in these kinds of churches.

In the end, as the saying goes, be careful what you ask for because you just might get it. I'm about 5 and a half years into my ministry at Alum Creek. It is a rather unique already-established church. It is unique, because it is established in that it has been around for 50 years, but it also has a freshness because they relocated about 10 years ago to a location a good 10 miles away from the previous spot. I've managed to shrink us down to nearly half of what we were when I got here (ok, maybe 30 percent), but I haven't been asked to any church growth consultations lately. And I find in ourselves, an incredibly difficult flock to lead.

We're going about 100 strong and can probably be pretty well broken up into three groups: our kids & their parents, empty-nesters (Boomers), and older Boomers and seniors. We have folks that drive all over from about a 40 mile radius around us. Our facade places in what could be considers progressive mainstream among Churches of Christ (we have a praise team that a few folks don't like, we use videos with instruments that a couple people don't like, we have a very minimal use of women in our services - a Scripture read here and there, but never in front - which I don't like), but for the most part, I label us as a postmodern congregation with no imagination for anything but a modern way of doing things. We shake up the facade, but don't seem ready to address the "weightier matters."

Much of this has to do with being in an established church. There's a long history of the way we do things. We've changed that up alot in the ten years since we've moved, but the deeper issue is that we've not really changed the way we think about many things. Trying to work through that in the established church is incredibly difficult. We are small and pround . . . but we are also very tempermental - a wrong move here or there and you feel like the whole thing might blow up.

And maybe . . . just maybe . . . that's what needs to happen. Doesn't seem like much changes by sitting around and talking about things - that's what established churches are good at. Until we DO something radical, we'll be content to talk. In the midst of our talking - folks aren't connecting. Young people, especially, aren't connecting. We are associated with the Churches of Christ, which, in Ohio, have done much of the same things for years and years, and have seldom made an impression on the community. The easy thing seems to be to leave and plant a church somewhere . . . but that seems to be the easy things so things get done my way. And that's just scary. It's a matter of committing to a family and seeing where God will lead. It's not easy. It's definitely not quick! Some people will not make it through, for any number of reasons. That's OK, as long as they leave with their faith intact - and if it done in the right way - their faith should be even stronger.

I love the people I have been called to minister beside. I would never trade my intergenerational relationships for success or brighter pastures. However, to say that it's always easy would be a huge misstatement - it's incredibly difficult. So I have gotten what i've asked for . . . now I need to continue to ask for more wisdom and guidance as to where to from here - because I am incredibly frustrated. This post is more for me than you . . . but I hope you can empathize where I am coming from. What would ministry be if it wasn't frustrating? Jesus certainly had his share of frustration.

Strange Week

This has been a strange week. We got a pretty good snowstorm Monday night into Tuesday. The 8 or 10 inches of snow wasn't that big of a deal, but the inch solid ice that covered everything was. Luckily we didn't get anything near what they did south of us, but it made for a strange week. The preschool was closed at the church every day but one (Monday), meaning our schedule was completely off. Me being a not real scheduled guy meant I struggled through the entire week. I think I had a bit of depression lingering in too (probably still do). That's a solid family trait so I'm sure it will come around from time to time. More than anything, I think it is an internal anxiety knowing how much our lives are about to change. Within the month now, we'll have the baby. Been there, done it before . . . I think that brings more anxiety instead of putting it to bay. In any case, I haven't gotten nearly what I wanted to get done this week (or probably should have). One of the biggest challenges in ministry is being totally at it alone (know what I mean here, I know God is here, but . . . well, you should get it). It's one of the best parts of it - that side everyone envies, but seldom do those same people acknowledge the difficulty that lies there too. Seldom is there a "right" thing to do. There are several options - some good, others better, and a few wrong, but mostly, the onus is on me. That's burden to carry. Haven't carried it well this week.

Anyway, I noticed I have't posted this week and I am trying to be regular. I appreciate everyone's comments. I have had a couple positive interactions this week from folks that I have met here, furthering reassuring me that this blogging things isn't a total waste of time :-) Due to the weather, I was not able to watch the next installment of the Truth Project. Our church finished with the project Sunday, and I need to go back and watch one episode on the state, one on America, and the final one on community. I'll try to briefly (yeah right) comment about each of the three separately. It seems to have been good for many folks to see some critique of each of the vidoes (though I did miss a few).

I also finished the book Onward Christian Soldiers: Freeing the Gospel from Political Captivity by Charles Marsh. Wasn't my favorite book in the world, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it, but there were a few places where I thought it was great. He just skipped around and the logic of the book was a little tough for me to follow.

In this book Marsh offers a stinging criticism of evangelicals in this country and the way they have sold out the Gospel for political power. I don't have time to offer a review of the book, but I'll say that it was a solid work and offered critique consistent with other books I have reviewed (see Jesus for President, The Myth of A Christian Nation, Mere Discipleship, et at.) This book differed slightly in that he took on the evangelical priaise for George W. Bush a little more directly. For Marsh, Bush's election marked the pinnacle of evangelicalism's selling out for political gain. He offers direct criticism of Bush's claimed evangelical faith (it was a little uncomfortable to read him being critical of another's faith, but I think he proceeded cautiously, and offered rationale for doing so).

For me, the real profit of this work came in Marsh's second to last chapter on "Passing the International Test." I found it incredibly moving and convicting to see how incredibly America-centric evangelicals in this nation have become. His argument culminates with the inclusion of five pages worth of statements from faith communities around the world standing in opposition to the U.S. invasion of Iraq. Brazil, International Movement of Catholic Students, the church of England, Germany, the conference of European Churches, Ghana, the Greek Orthodox Church of Alexandria and all Africa . . . and on and on . . . groups, churches, brothers and sisters, who opposed the invasion. And yet, at the height of the invasion, the approval rating for going through with the invasion among evangelicals was an incredible 70 or 80 percent. How could they not consider these voices?

Whatever you think about the war, Marsh offers a challenge for you to see the actions of our nation (this war most specifically) through the eyes of the church of the world - something that I know is sorely missing in my church, in my personal faith, and every faith community I've ever been part of. I must realize that I have more in common with the persecuted believer in Djibouti, than I do with my neighbor who votes the way that I do and who likes the same sports teams. That is an important first step forward in our discussions of faith and politics.

This is unbelievable!

This, truly, is a different way of being the church. It sure throws some skepticism on our "safe" suburban way of doing church.




If you aren't familiar with the ministry of the xxxchurch.com, check it out. They are really an impressive group of followers.

Avoiding Burn Out

From my first ministry class in college, warnings against ministerial burn out have been constant. Nearly every ministry-natured book I've ever read addresses it, any professional minister who has been in the business very long knows the potential, it seems to be nearly universally recognized as one of the greatest threats to full-time ministers (and full-time volunteers for that matter).

I began my first internship 10 years ago this past summer meaning I have now, officially been in ministry for ten years. That is a lot of time - 1/3 of my life to be exact. There are a couple of sides to this fact that I am particularly concerned with keeping tabs on. First of all, the longer I work as a full-time minister, the harder it is getting for me to empathize with people who have "real jobs." The fact of the matter is ministry just doesn't have a very compatible vocation from whence employers can empathize. Secondly, I constantly attempt to monitor the effect working for a church has on my family. I grew up in a family that went to church most of the time, but hardly ever as a family - my dad went very infrequently. What a difference to be part of a family that is at everything - before everyone gets there, and well after everyone has left. My great fear is that my children will grow to resent church. Thirdly, not only have I been in ministry for 10 years, I've been at the same place for 5 years. Looking at the typical longevity of ministers in the same locations, that's a pretty good time. However, when you do the same thing for so long, especially at the same place with the same people, creativity and freshness become and issue. I work very hard to try and re-invent the way I approach ministry as often as possible, and believe this to be one of the most difficult aspects of ministry. Fourthly, I'm worried about burning out.

As I started with, burn out is hardly something obscure. It's a reality for so many. The constant-ness of ministry can easily and quickly lead to burn out. I suppose I view burn out a couple of different ways. I have seen burn out lead to ministers that totally withdraw. They withdraw to the point of doing only what it takes to get by, believing they have no other vocational options, and reduce themselves to long hours of study and few hours of interaction or productive moving forward. There is a real side of burn out that leads to depression and a real dark night of the soul. While I've been on the brink of such a place, I have been fortunate to, as of yet, avoided the darker pit.

I've been especially fortunate to be at a place for 5 years that deeply cares for me and my family as well as our spiritual and all around well-being. I have a great deal of freedom and flexibility to care for myself. Ocassionally, I take mental health days. The reality is, we all need them. In our work-obsessed culture, we've largely lost the value of quiet, peaceful getaways - even in the midst of the week. This is where the disconnect between vocational ministry and secular work sometimes leaves me without a voice. I firmly believe most of the people I work alongside need to take more time off, to themselves, but I can hear the responses as quickly as I offer the suggestion - I can't: the work won't get done, my boss won't let me, etc. I am in a unique position where I work (I sometimes take time to write silly entries like this at the height of the day), so it's difficult to have a voice there, but, I believe all too often, they have sold out. They, as much as ministers, often wind up burned out.

The great balm for me has been football. Now, sports is a difficult topic and I believe a power (ie. the "powers" that Paul speaks of), and are one of our nation's greatest idols. However, I have found a great healing and medicinal value in officiating football games. I took the class five years ago, not long after I came to Alum Creek, and for two years did nothing but go through the motions to keep my license. Then, I decided I was either going to do this, or not. So, for the past three years I have officiated about 20 football games from middle school to junior varsity. I'll be taking my varsity test in November so I can do varsity contests next year. Early on, I decided I needed a hobby, a social setting, far away from churh work, and it has been more healing and therapuetic than I ever would have imagined. Here are some of the things I've found beneficial:

* It's something I enjoy doing. I love football, and enjoy the rules of the game.
* I still get to be around teenagers. Two years ago I did a couple of games with one of the teens in the youth group playing.
* It's a social setting with NO ONE from church! I love those folks, but it is nice to know people who don't go there!
* It's physically active. Contrary to what some officials look like, it is fairly active.
* I get to be outside! I love being outside and this gives me a regular responsibility out there.
* I get paid! The icing on the cake is that I make a few hundred extra dollars.
* I can live out my faith as average joe instead of Mr. Minister. Few people I work with know I am a minister, and that's nice. It gives me the chance to offer a life lived out as a football official and Christian. If there is ever a place that needs the light of Christ it's football coaches and players being reminded there is more to life.
* Working with the same crew each week, it's a good opportunity to meet new friends.

So . . . if you are in professional ministry, I hope you can find something like this that can offer the benefits I've listed. I believe that this is one of the most important things that keeps me from burnout. It is time consuming and takes away some of my time from church which is absolutely great! It gives me a reason to say, "NO!" on ocassion and let them know I have a life. I do think it would be too much to do other sports, but it gives me something to look forward to for three months a year, and then, back to life as normal!

Quick Post

It has been awhile since I've had a chance to post here, major disappointment for all those faithful readers . . . ha ha ha, there are so many of you I'm sure. Anyway, things at the church have been hectic this summer, out one of activity into another which has led me to really question and critique the value of each one, that's something I'll be weighing in the future.

One of the real blessings of working for a church is being able to constantly be involved in ministries/projects/efforts that help people out. Sometimes I wonder if my true calling wasn't to social work or social services because I seem to feel most at home in the rundown Delaware Hotel listening to yet another life story of yet another down and out (most recently I was privy to a guy who was smoking pot and drinking beer with a couple he just me there). Earlier this summer we got to paint eight houses and make a small impact on eight different families through our teenagers involvement there. This past week we had our Vacation Bible School where Indiana Jones went on a search for the lost staff of Moses - getting the opportunity to share in teaching our young people here at Alum Creek the Bible. Sunday we leave for Cedar Rapids, Iowa where we'll be working with people there to help clean out flooded homes left from last month's storms.

Whenever I get frustrated about working in full-time ministry (and believe me, there is plenty to be frustrated about), the thing that keeps me positive and assured of my calling is opportunities like these - which doesn't even take into account the many hours along the way of getting to disciple and teach teenagers and young people. Full-time ministry really is a calling and a blessing to all of us that have been called. It is enigmatic to be sure, not fully understood by anyone unless they've been there; it is unusual and does not fit into any traditional vocational mold, fatiguing in different kinds of ways - spiritually, emotionally, mentally, in additional to physically.

I would never suggest or even lean towards the fact that full-time ministry is more important than any other profession, or that it is any more difficult or challenging. The truth of the matter is, the vast majority of full-time ministers in our country have been nurtured more than most and few probably realize that. However, because it is so often to understand and appreciate, it is probably most often under-appreciated just how hard we work, just how tired we get, and just how frustrating it can be. Everyone seems to want to get in pissing contests in regards to their work - I probably was there early on, but I have become content with where I am, my work ethic, and my job. I understand where God has called me to, and what he has called me to do. There are weeks that I fulfilling nearly to the extent which God intends, but far more often, I leave the work woefully short. My only hope and confidence is that God's grace lives in the gaps. He doesn't need me to get his work done. Truth be told, God is at work everywhere and within everyone.

And that's all I have to say about that . . .

Nuts and Bolts, Nuts and Bolts . . . We Got Screwed

I have to pass this story along. It involves a recent business deal with our church. First, a little background:

The Alum Creek Church is located in Orange Township in Delaware County Ohio. Our church has had multiple problems with the zoning regulations within the township. They have very stringent zoning codes and are enforced with gestapo enthusiasm (I learned this when I put a church garage sale sign out a day early and found it stuck inside our church door). The most visible example of their overzealous control is the current site of the church. Our church address is 6256 S. Old State, but you cannot gain access to our church through Old State Rd. Upon entering the township, the zoning board made us alter our building site plan by 90 degrees. So . . . need less to say, they are a little particular.

We were approached several months ago by a local cable company that wanted to do business in Orange Township. Currently, the township is serviced by only one provider, so there is a total lack of competition. In order to bring their business to the township they need to build a relay center to relay the lasers. The first approached the township about building it on government property. The trustees denied the request. They next approached the Olentangy School district about placing it on school grounds, which they also denied. That left them with the option of pursing private land. Our church was perfectly placed.

They met with our leaders and laid it out - while its probably not appropriate to disclose the details of the agreement, the church stands to gain several thousand dollars through the lease, as well as free Internet, cable, and telephone service. It fits into our broader hopes, however, of serving the community as an alternate provider. There is a small location at the rear of our church (surrounded on two sides by trees and one side by the church building) that they desired to place it. They drew up plans and requested a variance from the Zoning Board of Appeals. This is a five member board who grant or deny zoning variance requests within the township.

That meeting was last Thursday night. Myself and one of our elders attended the meeting, as did two members of the Villages of Alum Creek subdivision (who both spoke on our behalf), and another worried neighbor (who wasn't crazy about the idea, but who doesn't even live within a half mile of the church). Much discussion ensued, surprising the cable representative who had done 40 of these and never had such a lengthy process. The board members asked why they couldn't put it on the other side of the tracks (something the lasers wouldn't allow), or on township property (something they had already tried, but were told no), or another place already zone business (they had tried two or three and been denied). After long discussion (really led by one vocal member who was especially belligerent in references to church and could be a problem for us in the future) two were for us and two were against us leaving the board chair to cast the deciding "no" vote. The deal was off because of a 3-2 vote from a voluntary board of appeals.

That was disappointing enough, but what happened next was absurd and we have done all we can do to resist bringing public attention to the situation. This week I found out that Orange Township called the cable providers office Friday morning (!) just a few hours after the end of the meeting to offer "several" options for the cable company to consider on township land. They stole the deal right out from under us - after they had already been offered the deal! Mary Beth called the township office yesterday to inquire about a "rumor" of another cable company coming to the area . . . which they were "excited" to say the deal would be done by the end of the year after they consider a couple different options south of Orange Rd. (our building is north of Orange Rd.) Wow. It sounds like some Dateline episode. Or better yet, maybe John Stossel would like to add it to his list of Give Me a Break!

I couldn't believe it!

Beyond Cognition

I am realizing more and more every day just how cognitively driven my faith has been - the faith that was imparted to me has been. It was drilled into my head, usually subconsciously - the more you know about the Bible, the better off you'll be. It's almost as if I came to expect that there would be a test given at the gates of heaven and if I knew enough, I'd get in, but if I didn't, there would be big trouble. Now, we would never admit this. We knew (again, cognitively) that we were saved by faith - but again, even this was just a matter of fact - cognitive knowledge.

And now I'm learning to see the Gospel as so much more than cognition. As a matter of fact, how much cognition is there? The Gospel, as Paul writes it, is simple: Christ, the God-man, came in the flesh, died on the cross, and was raised from the dead. If we could just focus on that! Why do we allow so much of the other stuff bog us down? That is the core of the Gospel. If a person is baptized as an infant, does that threaten the core of the Gospel? I don't know that it does. In all cases they are acting in a desire to appease the God of the Gospel. Do some come closer than others? Sure. It is unsettling, it is confusing, but it seems to be more in line with the biblical story than where many Christian groups find themselves currently.

Shane Claiborne is on to something. He's too radical for many folks, and they can easily miss what he's on to. I have a great deal of respect for him and what he's doing with the Simple Way project, but I haven't sold my house and taken my family to inner city Columbus. I see the destitution there nearly every day, and believe me my heart cries out for there and we've had discussions about going down there, but I remain in my suburban comfort shell. But I think I see what he's on to. His message is . . . "let's stop talking, and DO something." Do something. It is the message of the cross. It is a story invoking action. Hearing the Gospel we should be compelled to action. Instead, we have been compelled only as far as belief . . . as statement of fact.

I really believe that Shane Claiborne is what he claims to be - an ordinary radical. That is what more of us need to strive to be. Instead of just doing something, I hear too many people worried about the "red flags." "This sounds like the social gospel, didn't the liberal project fail?" "What about their soul?" "They're just users, we can do more productive things with our money." I would be more interested in these conversations as I think they raise valid concerns, but I'm unwilling to have them with people who aren't doing anything - anything more than "being a good nice person." Shame on us if we think that Christ came and died brining the kingdom of heaven to earth so that we could be nice Christian people. I am looking for examples of nice, Christian people in Scripture and I don't see many there. I see radicals. Men and women who would die for their faith. Who would risk the security of their family for the sake of justice and mercy and kingdom ethics. The kingdom of God is at hand! I love Shane Claiborne's statement, it's one I have adopted into my daily thoughts and prayers, "Another world is possible."

We're not stuck with this one! We're given this one, and as Christians it is our duty to make it look "on earth as it is in heaven." Jesus calls down heaven on earth, not us to a glorious place on high . . . but heaven on earth . . . now! Wow! (By the way, I'm pretty sure I ripped that rant off of Rob Bell in Velvet Elvis, so don't call me a pirate here . . . ha ha). Go and change the world . . . I really and truly believe we can do it . . . we are just going to have to get uncomfortable, unsafe, and unsure.

Rambling Again

I haven't had much time to ramble lately, since the baby was born. I feel like the only blog posts I've made have been book reviews, so I had a second and thought I would actually post some of my own thoughts for a change. The blog is definitely due for a face lift and overall updating, but I suppose I'll get to that soon enough. Anyway, here's some of the things that have been oozing through my mind:

Ten Year Class Reunion
My ten-year-class reunion was last Saturday night. There were about 25% of our graduating class there. I basically have kept up with my two best friends from high school and recently ran into another. I talked with one of them who was going to be there - Marc, and he said we should take the money instead and just go out for dinner together. He was probably right. Ten years later, everyone pretty much stays within their own cliques and politely says hello. Granted, it was great to see a few folks whom I wouldn't have otherwise, but I probably won't keep up with any of them - I guess we should have just gone out to dinner.

Ecclesiology
My understanding of church continues to grow and change - almost daily. I am in the midst of An Emergent Manifesto of Hope, and there have been some awesomely challenging and delightfully refreshing articles there that have continued to spark my thinking and prompt me onward. The more I consider the state of things, the more I feel that we've really messed this thing up. I am working toward becoming more proactive in my critique and instead of always assessing the many errors of our ways, begin promoting a direction forward. I recently met with an emergent minister who encouraged me on in that vein. It's when you know where you are to go, when you really take the leap forward. I'm still working on what's wrong before I leap forward, but I feel an insane prompting unlike I've ever felt before. Lee Camp's book that I commented on below has also convicted me to move forward in this area and lead others as well. Humility is the key as I move onward. That is lacking in much of the conversation and dialog I hear and read. I hope to move beyond that.

Retirement
I put this in here because of a remark made by one of our elders to me today. He works with retirement accounts for a living and I have been thinking alot about retirement lately. I put my jabs in to him (and I know he'll probably read this . . . ha ha) but he knows I am just searching over this one. My whole theology of money has evolved over the past few years to a place that has left me really challenged and confused. It has led me to where I really question the biblical basis for "retirement." The whole American system of retirement seems a whole lot like "tear the barns down and build bigger ones." That, in a nutshell, sounds to me exactly like a 401k. Yes, I have a retirement account. Yes there is a whopping $3,000 in it. Yes, I have serious questions about whether or not this is the right use of this money. On one hand I want my family to be taken care of, my kids to have college savings accounts, my wife and I to have a comfortable "nest egg" . . . but wait a minute . . . that sounds way more like American culture than ANYTHING in the Bible. I'm really struggling with this one . . .

Ministry
My whole concept of ministry has been blown up since I first began here at Alum Creek. I am finding it more and more difficult to explain to someone (especially a non-Christian) "what I do for a living" and yet at the same time, I seem to have a clearer and clearer picture of what I am to be about! Is there any sense to that? I love my youth ministry. I love teenagers! I could do this job forever. There is nothing more rewarding than working with kids - of that I am convinced. However, I am far from a "traditional youth minister." The church that I work with has allowed me the freedom (intentionally or not, I'm not really sure) to create my own position. There is a huge risk/reward potential here (like I could waste five years going down the wrong path) but God has been faithful throughout and continues to blow doors open before me humbling me to stay out of his way and simply do my best to exemplify the love of Christ wherever I go.

Evan Almighty
We took the teens to see Evan Almighty this morning. A few things have caught my eye about this movie - it's the most expensive comedy ever made. Steve Carrell is hilarious - I mean, if you don't love The Office, I'm not sure we can be friends. And the promotion has been overtly Christian. It was a very interesting experience. I've already written plenty, so I don't want to go on and on, but a few comments. I had a really strange feeling after watching it. It was apparent the Christian community was the intended audience (from the Veggie Tales preview to the constant unspoken biblical imagery throughout that non-Christians would fail to recognize). I felt like I had to like the film, as a Christian (and it was pretty good, but not close to great - it was OK). I think what bothered me most about it was that it was so trite throughout. The biblical parallels were blatant - rah rah for the Christian right, but it seems to me it lacked some authenticity - if that's the right word. Instead, I have been more impressed with the theological overtones not quite as blatant in movies such as The Green Mile (I think this was the first "secular" movie I ever noticed this kind of thing), Superman, and Lord of the Rings. For some reason, it's easier for me to appreciate it in those situations. I don't know if I'm on my own here or not. There is something "cool" about seeing biblical images portrayed straightforward (and rarely if ever did I feel anything in the movie was sacrilegious) . . . but that's what made me wonder about the whole thing. When the Gospel is "cool" . . . hmm . . . that just seems to dull it a little. Thoughts?


So . . . there's what's been going on in my mind

Sermon on Evangelism

Evangelism is a tough topic to preach on. Words just wouldn't seem to do justice, so I created the above video and played it as it is listed in the sermon below. Just two more sermons to go before our new minister arrives. I'm ready for a break!

Expanding the Walls of the Kingdom

In undertaking this series discussing the church, I knew that at some point we’d have to talk about evangelism. There was no getting around it. To talk about the church is to, at some point, talk about evangelism. You can call it our “commission,” our “mission,” our “duty,” or whatever, but it is difficult to read through the Bible without coming away with a strong feeling of personal conviction and clear picture of our responsibility to “reach the lost,” “save souls,” “proselytize the masses,” “witness to others,” or any number of other ways we’ve come up with saying it.

It has taken me some time to really formulate an idea of what evangelism is . . . I’m still not exactly sure, but I feel as though I’ve made some good strides. I am half tempted to ask you, this morning, what evangelism is. Do any of us really know? What’s the point? What does it look like? How do we go about doing it? Are any of us doing it?

As I set out to put this sermon together this week, I had compelling images flood my mind and I just couldn’t shake them. It helped me understand where I felt we needed to go this morning, but I found it difficult to convey it very well with words. I found a few moments in the week and have tried my best to convey it through a different kind of medium. I’d like to share with you the following video I put together for today’s sermon, in hopes of capturing a little bit of what was in my mind.

[Play “evangelism video” created for today’s sermon.]

I don’t get artistic too often, but I had many images and songs and thoughts running through my mind, I just couldn’t determine another way that would adequately portray them. If you were impacted by this the way that it was intended, you should feel a little confused. “What’s he trying to say?” you may be asking. “Is he condoning that radical behavior? Does he think that’s what we should be doing?” I felt as though this would give us a good place to jump off this morning.

Evangelism is important. I’m not sure I could start off with anything more obvious and straightforward than that? There is little doubt in my mind that if we surveyed everyone in here today about the importance of evangelism, it would register high, really high. It’s in the heart of our mission statement here at Alum Creek, “Serve the Savior, Build the Body, Love the Lost.”

Here’s another point I feel strongly about, if you were to conduct a poll of the same people asking how much time and effort they gave personally to the task of evangelism, it would register low, really low. Think about it, how would you answer these questions?

· When’s the last time you shared the Gospel with someone who had never heard it before?

· When’s the last time you shared your testimony of faith with someone?

· When’s the last time this church baptized someone who wasn’t “one of our own?”

It doesn’t take much looking around before you begin to realize a pretty big disconnect from what we say and what we do in the area of evangelism. I don’t mean this as a knock on us . . . I mean I do, but not just on us. I met with a youth ministry professor back in the fall of last year and we got to talking about evangelism and a concern for lost people. He works extensively with youth ministers all over the country, so I asked him if he knew of any youth program that was especially focused on evangelism. They didn’t even have to be good at it, but as long as they were trying. He didn’t know of any – in the entire country. This is an area lacking in many, many churches.

I have seen this discrepancy my whole life. I grew up in a church that talked incessantly about “reaching the lost” and “preaching the Good News,” but very rarely have I seen this in action – no, not very rarely, never. I have never met anyone that I would even consider as overtly evangelistic. This has led me down a path of great disillusionment in regards for church. I’ve heard a lot of talk about reaching out, but haven’t seen any action.

I am willing to give us the benefit of the doubt, however. I think there is a fair basis to our lack of evangelistic effort: we’re not sure how to go about it. I mean, what is evangelism?

For Churches of Christ, I think that we are in a bit of a crisis mode when it comes to evangelism. The problem is that for most of us, the word evangelism conjures images like the film showed. For many of us, evangelism looks like Gospel Meetings and knocking on doors. It is correspondence Bible study classes and Jule Miller filmstrips. It is bus ministry and vacation bible school. It is debates and revivals and crusades. Essentially, to many of us, evangelism has come to mean antiquated systems and programs that we know don’t work. When we look at the people who work with us and live in our neighborhoods and go to our schools, we know they don’t work. And yet nothing has come to replace them.

“Outreach” has been one of the biggest challenges facing this church since I arrived. I have been in many a leadership meeting here as we’ve discussed what exactly is “outreach?” We don’t know what it looks like in today’s world. The result? Our emphasis on evangelism goes on . . . largely in vain.

What I’d like to be able to do this morning is to study the plan that the Bible gives on evangelizing the masses. Unfortunately, you can look and look and we’re not going to find it. It’s just not there. The Bible offers no surefire way to “save souls.” People have studied Paul’s method and Peter’s method, and that’s all great and there are plenty of things to learn from that, but there is no blow-by-blow account of how to win your neighbor’s soul. And that, I believe, is a message we need to hear.

In the early days of the Restoration Movement – the American religious revival that gave birth to Churches of Christ, there was a popular preacher/leader who popularized what became known as the five-finger model for evangelism. Walter Scott outlined the Christian story as follows: a person need to believe, repent, and be baptized in order to receive forgiveness of sins, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and eternal life. That was six points, which eventually was shortened to five making for an easy-to-remember exercise that everyone could share with their friends and neighbors, and eventually led to widespread evangelism.

Those of us to come along in the 20^th century are probably more familiar with the “plan of salvation” which evolved from the five-finger exercise as “hear, believe, repent, confess, and be baptized.” Most of us have probably heard many, many sermons ending with a near-cadenced version of this “plan.”

Now . . . I probably should prepare everyone because I am entering hallowed waters here, but I think it is an important message for us to hear. I want us to consider our revered “plan of salvation.” Is there really a plan to salvation? Of course, God has a plan, but that’s not the kind of plan to which this is referring. We have assumed there is a plan out there for everyone to follow – an easily-enacted plan that cuts across culture and situation. But is that even what the Bible teaches? It certainly never claims that for itself (“plan of salvation” is totally foreign to the text.)

We probably wish we could hang on to the “plan” because it makes things simple. You lead people through a step-by-step process naturally from one to the next to the next. Nearly every person in here could probably preach a sermon with the five-step process as a sermon outline considering the many sermons you’ve heard addressed to this. The five points are valid. They are all important. I am not here to try to invalidate any of them. However, I am afraid that what we have done is constructed a non-biblical step-by-step process that non-Christians may have trouble connecting with. As a matter of fact, I don’t think the Bible gives any method. Peter preaches on the Day of Pentecost much differently than Paul preaches in Athens in Acts 17. Philip finds the Ethiopian eunuch studying his little heart out and directs his thoughts in the Scripture while Simon the sorcerer was convicted by the miraculous gifts of the disciples. It was a different place. They were different people.

To me, this is the perfect place in our sermon series to talk about evangelism. We have been reminded week in and week out that the church is built on the foundation of a profession of Christ as Lord. It begins and ends here. That is the story we profess. That is the heart of our message. We believe that we have a story that makes all the other stories make sense. And I am convinced that in order for us to once again find the place of evangelism in our church, we must find our identity of Christ-followers.

So what do we need to do? Isn’t that what you’re waiting for me to answer? Give us the answers, point to the Scriptures, help us nail it down. Unfortunately, I don’t know that I can do that. If you’ve followed me this far, I think we’ve made an important step forward – realizing that coming to a faith in God is more complicated than a “plan” allows for.

I think Paul does give us some guidance in what he tells the Corinthians. Read 1 Corinthians 10: 19 – 23. In this brief passage, Paul purports a major emphasis – an emphasis we must relearn. Paul says that he did everything to win as many as possible. That was his objective. That was his goal. That was his meaning in life. He lived every day for those who had not yet heard. He prayed constantly for those who had not yet given their lives to God. His message transcended culture, social class, religious background – one thing remained constant, those who hadn’t heard, he wanted to hear. He was constantly aware of those around him who hadn’t heard, who didn’t know Jesus.

And then there’s us. We toss up a lackadaisical and occasional prayer. We’re more worried about how well we match up to our neighbors than to whether they’ve given their life fully to Christ. We have a career path. We have goals. We are driven . . . but drive to what? What are our goals? What do we hope for in the end?

We get so caught up in the many, many things around us that don’t matter. We need to start focusing on the things that do. What sets us apart? What makes us different? It is our WAY! The WAY we do things sets us apart from the way others do things. The story that gives our life meaning and value illuminates every day. That sets us apart from those who don’t have that . . . and if it doesn’t set us apart . . . what does that say about what’s really there?

Read Romans 9: 1 – 5. Here, Paul speaks of his absolute devastation that his people, the Jews, haven’t accepted Christ as the messiah. He wishes he could give up his place in the kingdom – his very salvation, that they would hear the Gospel. Wow. I mean, I’ve been wrestling with this one for awhile. He wanted his people to hear so badly, to believe so much, that he wishes that Christ would take him out of this stead and replace them.

Then there’s us . . . then there’s us. What do we do with this text? What do you do with it? It’s got to hit us between the eyes. It’s convicting. It’s compelling. It’s scary. If we really got it . . . I mean really, imagine how we’d live our lives. Recklessly. The most important thing in the world is that others would given their lives to God.

Rick Richardson says this about the state of evangelism among Christians,

People, Christian and not, perceive the good news as neither good nor , because it doesn’t seem to have much to say that’s compelling about the life in the world . . . We have replaced the good news of the dynamic, transforming, inbreaking rule of God to set all things right with the somewhat static and stale message of the death and resurrection of Jesus to set a couple of things right for individuals to believe.[1]

Perhaps he’d say we’ve turned a masterpiece into a “plan.” It’s time we re-ignite our passion for lost people. At the heart is our love and passion for God. In the great hymn from the video, “I love to tell the story . . . of Jesus and his love.”

I love to tell the story,

‘tis pleasant to repeat

What seems, each time I tell it,

more wonderfully sweet.

Whatever we’re to become as a church, whatever we’re to do, whatever ministries we’re to begin or uphold; whatever kind of people we’re to become, we must never stop telling the story.

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[1] Rick Richardson. Re-Imagining Evangelism. Intervarsity Press: Downers Grove, IL. 2006. p. 119, 120 – 121.