Well, my long absence from this blog has ended. It is amazing to me that it has been a month already.
The reason for the sabbatical was that our faith community moved to a new leased facility. It has been a good time of seeing God provide - the renovation of the building that took only two weeks with everything happening ahead of schedule (whoever heard of that!) and new opportunities for ministry becoming evident. The other aspect that I've thought about through this month is the need to keep our focus on God.
Probably the biggest temptation during this time is letting blessings move us away from God. We could easily become exactly what we resolved not to become - that is, a church focused on itself. Maybe it is just a sign of our sinful nature that we can so quickly be distracted even when God's hand is so evident. The reassuring thought is that since God Himself is moving us into this new period in the life of this church, then we know that that there is a purpose which will be realized by Divine Grace. Our faithfulness to the directing of God and openness to unexpected possibilities must be our congregational lingua franca. When God moves, there are tremendous possibilities both for faithfulness and apostacy. May we humbly choose the former and avoid the pride that would feed the latter.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Friday, March 19, 2004
Good Discussions Become Stale Positions
Vigorous and timely Christian dialogue that leads to an incarnational practice of faith daily is essential to having a relevant message. I might even characterize that discussion as argument or debate, as long as the spirit is irenic. There is nothing ungodly about believers engaged in a desperate search for the meaning of faith in our cultural context, and in a lively discussion of the possibilities as long as grace and love pervade the exchange. But, of course, such is so rarely witnessed that many will likely doubt that it could even exist.
I describe the practice of faith which we seek as "incarnational" because it must be the authentic presence of the Divine within historical circumstances. We are concerned with our historical circumstance, and should be. This pursuit of the incarnation of faith in the "flesh of our time" will be an attempt to interpret the nature of God in normative ways for our behavior, priorities, relationships, and congregational life. When done well, these discussions result in teachings about the truth of God's own revelation of Himself which frankly and perceptively address our context. The debate is vital and necessary for Christians of a specific time and place to proclaim a relevant message of hope and conviction, and for their working out of faith daily to be true salt and light.
The problem is that when the fleshly context, the historical reference of a discussion ceases to exist, or changes either dramatically or slowly over time, often the doctrines remain. Those untethered teachings which once had immediate relevance to the daily life of certain group of God's people often take on a life of their own. They are no longer incarnational teachings, but ethereal statements of belief. Once a fleshly context no longer anchors the teaching to a specific daily practice which has a immediate relevance, they become stale positions and intellectual posturing. Often, these morph into tests of orthodoxy, now in a theoretical way - far different from the circumstances of their formation.
Undoubtedly we all carry with us the baggage of some of these stale beliefs. We cling to these in the false notion that thinking the right thoughts on these subjects, which have little or no bearing on our daily attempts to live like Jesus, is somehow important to God. What would be the change if we resolve to discuss, debate, pursue, and teach no thing but that which directly involves our daily walk of faith? How many subjects would languish undiscussed for lack of any immediate relevance? How many questions would not be pursued because how we live to love God and our neighbor on Monday is not affected? Think of the Christian unity that would result.
Vigorous and timely Christian dialogue that leads to an incarnational practice of faith daily is essential to having a relevant message. I might even characterize that discussion as argument or debate, as long as the spirit is irenic. There is nothing ungodly about believers engaged in a desperate search for the meaning of faith in our cultural context, and in a lively discussion of the possibilities as long as grace and love pervade the exchange. But, of course, such is so rarely witnessed that many will likely doubt that it could even exist.
I describe the practice of faith which we seek as "incarnational" because it must be the authentic presence of the Divine within historical circumstances. We are concerned with our historical circumstance, and should be. This pursuit of the incarnation of faith in the "flesh of our time" will be an attempt to interpret the nature of God in normative ways for our behavior, priorities, relationships, and congregational life. When done well, these discussions result in teachings about the truth of God's own revelation of Himself which frankly and perceptively address our context. The debate is vital and necessary for Christians of a specific time and place to proclaim a relevant message of hope and conviction, and for their working out of faith daily to be true salt and light.
The problem is that when the fleshly context, the historical reference of a discussion ceases to exist, or changes either dramatically or slowly over time, often the doctrines remain. Those untethered teachings which once had immediate relevance to the daily life of certain group of God's people often take on a life of their own. They are no longer incarnational teachings, but ethereal statements of belief. Once a fleshly context no longer anchors the teaching to a specific daily practice which has a immediate relevance, they become stale positions and intellectual posturing. Often, these morph into tests of orthodoxy, now in a theoretical way - far different from the circumstances of their formation.
Undoubtedly we all carry with us the baggage of some of these stale beliefs. We cling to these in the false notion that thinking the right thoughts on these subjects, which have little or no bearing on our daily attempts to live like Jesus, is somehow important to God. What would be the change if we resolve to discuss, debate, pursue, and teach no thing but that which directly involves our daily walk of faith? How many subjects would languish undiscussed for lack of any immediate relevance? How many questions would not be pursued because how we live to love God and our neighbor on Monday is not affected? Think of the Christian unity that would result.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
I believe that our sense of being related to one another as Christians in the world should consist of being conscious of two things. First, we should have a sense of belonging that is based on the daily, face-to-face relationships we have with other believers. These fellow travelers share our journey, and we enjoy an intimate and immediate fellowship in love which is the joy of a spiritual relationship. Our relationship is based on our daily walks together.
The other consciousness I believe we should have is an awareness that there is a universal, invisible church that spans all places and time. My relatedness to that vast body of fellow travelers include that 'great cloud of witness' from history and the millions of other contemporary believers in Jesus. I don't have face-to-face relationships with this numerous congregation, but I have a sense of belonging that I am in the midst of that God-led, Spirit-filled throng. I should be conscious of a relationship with them by faith, if not by the personal experience of interaction.
There is a third consciousness that I once had, but don't have now, and which I believe I never should have had. That was a sense of belonging to a numerous group of believers with whom I didn't have immediate or intimate relationships, who included more than those Christians with whom I regularly shared life, but a group smaller than the church universal. My relationship with those people was only theoretical, based on the impression that we shared certain practices and beliefs in common. That group was my denomination - a group encompassing less than God's church, but more than those with whom I walked daily. With my denomination I felt a special bond. Very long ago, that denomination was synonymous with what I thought was the church universal.
When I came to see that God was doing more in this world and had children beyond my denomination, I nonetheless held onto my denomination as people with whom I felt a special affinity. I esteemed them over other believers. Being in a group of them was better than being in a group of "other believers." The real test was when I was driving on long trips. Invariably I would pass numerous places of worship. Whenever I saw a building with "our name" on it I felt a certain closeness to the people who gathered there, even though they were completely unknown to me. On that same trip I would drive past other places of worship with other names, and though I would acknowledge in my mind that believers met there, that they were people saved by grace, I would nevertheless think of them as "of other groups." I acknowledged that they could be children of my Father, but I didn't feel as close to them as those who had "our name" on their building. I was denominationally minded. My mind divided the Christian church into denominational camps.
I had no reason to think those with "our name" would somehow be warmer, more loving, more accepting, more godly, or more anything else good than those under "other names." But I had a predisposition to those with "our name" - my sense of belonging was not in God's universal church, but in my own denomination.
I have heard people justify the existence of denominations, but I no longer can. For me the journey has been long, but I am convicted that I should only be conscious of two ways of being related to other Christians in this world: 1) the Christians with whom I share my daily walk and 2) all other Christians in equality. I am repenting of there ever being a third group - larger than those who love me personally and daily, and yet smaller than all believers who are accepted by God.
The other consciousness I believe we should have is an awareness that there is a universal, invisible church that spans all places and time. My relatedness to that vast body of fellow travelers include that 'great cloud of witness' from history and the millions of other contemporary believers in Jesus. I don't have face-to-face relationships with this numerous congregation, but I have a sense of belonging that I am in the midst of that God-led, Spirit-filled throng. I should be conscious of a relationship with them by faith, if not by the personal experience of interaction.
There is a third consciousness that I once had, but don't have now, and which I believe I never should have had. That was a sense of belonging to a numerous group of believers with whom I didn't have immediate or intimate relationships, who included more than those Christians with whom I regularly shared life, but a group smaller than the church universal. My relationship with those people was only theoretical, based on the impression that we shared certain practices and beliefs in common. That group was my denomination - a group encompassing less than God's church, but more than those with whom I walked daily. With my denomination I felt a special bond. Very long ago, that denomination was synonymous with what I thought was the church universal.
When I came to see that God was doing more in this world and had children beyond my denomination, I nonetheless held onto my denomination as people with whom I felt a special affinity. I esteemed them over other believers. Being in a group of them was better than being in a group of "other believers." The real test was when I was driving on long trips. Invariably I would pass numerous places of worship. Whenever I saw a building with "our name" on it I felt a certain closeness to the people who gathered there, even though they were completely unknown to me. On that same trip I would drive past other places of worship with other names, and though I would acknowledge in my mind that believers met there, that they were people saved by grace, I would nevertheless think of them as "of other groups." I acknowledged that they could be children of my Father, but I didn't feel as close to them as those who had "our name" on their building. I was denominationally minded. My mind divided the Christian church into denominational camps.
I had no reason to think those with "our name" would somehow be warmer, more loving, more accepting, more godly, or more anything else good than those under "other names." But I had a predisposition to those with "our name" - my sense of belonging was not in God's universal church, but in my own denomination.
I have heard people justify the existence of denominations, but I no longer can. For me the journey has been long, but I am convicted that I should only be conscious of two ways of being related to other Christians in this world: 1) the Christians with whom I share my daily walk and 2) all other Christians in equality. I am repenting of there ever being a third group - larger than those who love me personally and daily, and yet smaller than all believers who are accepted by God.
Friday, February 27, 2004
It Takes Faith To Attend A Lectureship
I went to Texas last Sunday afternoon, and stayed a couple of days to participate in a "lectureship" at a Christian University. I taught a class and got to attend a few others, but mainly hung out with some friends. I also made some new friends.
The whole trip was ostensibly about the "lectureship" but it was really about relationships. I think that "lectureships" in general, as modern mindfests, will be going the way of the dinosaurs unless something is done quickly - not to update them, but to totally rethink them. Having a lecture-fest is not even remotely appealing to many people. It sounds like what it is - lots of lectures. If we haven't noticed, lectures are not what many people are seeking. They are looking for something where there is more dialogue than for speeches full of answers. They want to participate, not just listen. They want to experience, more than become better informed intellectually.
Of course, true to the form, my class offered better answers than I really have. Well, I 'm sure it sounded that way even though I didn't mean to convey that. Classes are supposed to offer answers, that's why people go to classes. My confidence was not in the act of teaching, but in the Holy Spirit who can lay a message on our hearts.
It takes faith to go to a lectureship.
I went to Texas last Sunday afternoon, and stayed a couple of days to participate in a "lectureship" at a Christian University. I taught a class and got to attend a few others, but mainly hung out with some friends. I also made some new friends.
The whole trip was ostensibly about the "lectureship" but it was really about relationships. I think that "lectureships" in general, as modern mindfests, will be going the way of the dinosaurs unless something is done quickly - not to update them, but to totally rethink them. Having a lecture-fest is not even remotely appealing to many people. It sounds like what it is - lots of lectures. If we haven't noticed, lectures are not what many people are seeking. They are looking for something where there is more dialogue than for speeches full of answers. They want to participate, not just listen. They want to experience, more than become better informed intellectually.
Of course, true to the form, my class offered better answers than I really have. Well, I 'm sure it sounded that way even though I didn't mean to convey that. Classes are supposed to offer answers, that's why people go to classes. My confidence was not in the act of teaching, but in the Holy Spirit who can lay a message on our hearts.
It takes faith to go to a lectureship.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
As usual, certain elements of our American Christian subculture seem to be "gospelizing" something that shouldn't be. In other words, making some thing a test of orthodoxy, an matter of conscience, treating it as if it were the Gospel itself, and then portraying anyone who disagrees as a persecutor of Christianity. For sure, there are persecutors, but not everyone who has a different take on some matter is necessarily anti-Christian.
No, I'm not talking about Judge Moore and his granite monument which one must endorse or be labeled anti-God. It is my impression, just me talking here, that a little of this is taking place over Mel Gibson's movie The Passion. Mel Gibson isn't inspired and doesn't claim to be. Neither was the movie script, camera angles, cinematography, the actors, or anything else. It is great that he wanted to make the movie. But this is not a holy struggle between light and darkness to have the movie released, how the movie is reviewed, or what people think of it. I'm sure that the movie will be very impactful. I also think of several matters to remember.
The inspired writers of the New Testament said little about the gore, violence, and physical suffering of Jesus. The Gospel writers do not dramatize the events for us, but speak rather sparsely of the crucifixion. No preacher worth his salt today would pass up the opportunity to wring more out of the story than they do. But still they don't.
The writers of the epistles say little of the agonies of Christ's death, giving only brief allusions and certainly not graphic portrayals. Our examples of the early kerugma, or preaching of the apostles, clearly centers on the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ - but not on the actual violence of Christ's death. Of course, one could say, they knew what crucifixion meant. Yes they did, and it would have been ridiculous for the apostles to argue that the manner of death was significant, because it was a common form of execution. The rebel slave Spartacus was crucified but that meant nothing for me.
The meaning of Christ's death is not in the physical manner of it, nor the cruelties associated with it. Thousands of others died in the same manner, many suffering more prolonged and painful deaths than Jesus - take the two thieves who died that same day, for instance. The meaning is not the torturous manner of death, which is why I think the inspired writers did not dramatize that for us. If Jesus had been beheaded, electrocuted, strangled, poisoned, thrown to lions, or anything else, he would still be my Savior. We just wouldn't wear crosses. Interestingly enough, the early Christians didn't use a cross as a symbol for their faith - they used a fish.
See the movie. Jesus suffered greatly in his death. The extremity of his suffering is not what saves, but the atoning life of a righteous man paying the death-penalty for sin. May God use the movie to His glory.
No, I'm not talking about Judge Moore and his granite monument which one must endorse or be labeled anti-God. It is my impression, just me talking here, that a little of this is taking place over Mel Gibson's movie The Passion. Mel Gibson isn't inspired and doesn't claim to be. Neither was the movie script, camera angles, cinematography, the actors, or anything else. It is great that he wanted to make the movie. But this is not a holy struggle between light and darkness to have the movie released, how the movie is reviewed, or what people think of it. I'm sure that the movie will be very impactful. I also think of several matters to remember.
The inspired writers of the New Testament said little about the gore, violence, and physical suffering of Jesus. The Gospel writers do not dramatize the events for us, but speak rather sparsely of the crucifixion. No preacher worth his salt today would pass up the opportunity to wring more out of the story than they do. But still they don't.
The writers of the epistles say little of the agonies of Christ's death, giving only brief allusions and certainly not graphic portrayals. Our examples of the early kerugma, or preaching of the apostles, clearly centers on the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ - but not on the actual violence of Christ's death. Of course, one could say, they knew what crucifixion meant. Yes they did, and it would have been ridiculous for the apostles to argue that the manner of death was significant, because it was a common form of execution. The rebel slave Spartacus was crucified but that meant nothing for me.
The meaning of Christ's death is not in the physical manner of it, nor the cruelties associated with it. Thousands of others died in the same manner, many suffering more prolonged and painful deaths than Jesus - take the two thieves who died that same day, for instance. The meaning is not the torturous manner of death, which is why I think the inspired writers did not dramatize that for us. If Jesus had been beheaded, electrocuted, strangled, poisoned, thrown to lions, or anything else, he would still be my Savior. We just wouldn't wear crosses. Interestingly enough, the early Christians didn't use a cross as a symbol for their faith - they used a fish.
See the movie. Jesus suffered greatly in his death. The extremity of his suffering is not what saves, but the atoning life of a righteous man paying the death-penalty for sin. May God use the movie to His glory.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
I've been getting over a disappointment with God. No, it's got nothing to do with yesterday's blog - as if you follow my blog that closely. We've not been talking too much lately. It's been my problem, not His. But His faithfulness is getting through my selfishness, and that's good. It has been like two good friends who've had a fight and don't know how to start talking again. Of course, it's been me who hasn't known how to start talking again. I've been very aware of God's presence, and his patience, but now I guess I'm giving in and letting go of my stubbornness.
In fact God has been speaking to me, which is what I just realized. No, I didn't just realize it, because I've known that all along. I guess I've just been moved by that kindness to repentance (Rom 2:4). I also want to learn from my disappointment. There is a lesson in there somewhere that will reshape me.
BTW- why does the spellcheck on this blog website not know the word "blog"???? Duh!
In fact God has been speaking to me, which is what I just realized. No, I didn't just realize it, because I've known that all along. I guess I've just been moved by that kindness to repentance (Rom 2:4). I also want to learn from my disappointment. There is a lesson in there somewhere that will reshape me.
BTW- why does the spellcheck on this blog website not know the word "blog"???? Duh!
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
There is a disappointment that comes when we long to help those who do not desire help. When we realize the limits of what can be done with the unwilling and self-defeating, even self-contradicting actions of those who say they want peace, hope, joy and love, but stoutly refuse it. God is God. Jesus is the Savior. In our arrogance we postulate what we would do if we were God . . . but to let God work in the lives of others - that takes faith.
I good friend sent me the following quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff, which I've been keeping on my desk and which continues to speak to me:
God is love. That is why he suffers. To love our suffering sinful world is to suffer. God so suffered for the world that he gave up his only Son to suffering. The one who does not see God's suffering does not see his love. God is suffering love.
So suffering is down at the center of things, deep down where the meaning is. Suffering is the meaning of our world. For Love is the meaning. And Love suffers. The tears of God are the meaning of history.
But mystery remains. Why isn't Love-without-suffering the meaning of things? Why is suffering-Love the meaning? Why does God endure his suffering? Why does he not at once relieve his agony by relieving ours?
I good friend sent me the following quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff, which I've been keeping on my desk and which continues to speak to me:
God is love. That is why he suffers. To love our suffering sinful world is to suffer. God so suffered for the world that he gave up his only Son to suffering. The one who does not see God's suffering does not see his love. God is suffering love.
So suffering is down at the center of things, deep down where the meaning is. Suffering is the meaning of our world. For Love is the meaning. And Love suffers. The tears of God are the meaning of history.
But mystery remains. Why isn't Love-without-suffering the meaning of things? Why is suffering-Love the meaning? Why does God endure his suffering? Why does he not at once relieve his agony by relieving ours?
Friday, January 23, 2004
Collective Discernment and Individual Freedom
We are still growing into a new practice of community which is different from what many of us have experienced in the past. I think that it can be described as Collective Discernment and Individual Freedom. In many churches, the reality is that a few people make decisions which everyone in the larger group is expected to adopt. These are usually program-driven organizations which tend to want everyone doing the same things at the same time and in the same way. People are told to support the programs. Regimented activity is seen as helpful. It might be for some, but probably not for everyone.
The way we are trying to live as a community is with the recognition that the Spirit works in different ways in each Christian. There is no “everyone-must-be-doing-this” type of program structure. In a general way we talk about everyone growing up into the image of Christ, but we realize that there are many paths to that goal. Therefore, we have the freedom for anyone to do whatever God is calling that individual to do. If someone wants to have a Bible study with people in their neighborhood on Wednesday nights, there is no program that says “no, you must do what the others are doing on Wednesday nights.” Talking about not having “membership” does not mean that we are uncommitted to Christ or His Church, or sharing our lives together, but rather that a person does not “join” Disciples’ Fellowship as if joining an institution. A person does not join and then have to participate in required programs or duties to the organization. We share a common life in Christ in which we encourage and help one another without quenching the Spirit’s work in each believer.
For the really large directional matters, we do act collectively – and we do that through collective discernment of the God’s leading. We discuss and listen, and in our group discussion try to hear what God is saying to His people. We acknowledge the direction God is leading, but we allow individual freedom for each to be a slave to Christ - rather than being slaves to the programs of a church.
Some times it is easier to allow a church to do our spiritual thinking for us - don’t make me discern what God’s Spirit wants me to do, just give me a system of programs to follow. Organizing some ministry is not a bad thing, but making participation in that program the definitive mark of faithfulness is mistakenly thinking that God’s Spirit does the same work in each one of us, in the same way and at the same time. If I have an idea of what “we should be doing”, maybe it is actually an idea of what I should be doing. If others join with me that will be great, but maybe God is telling me what I need to be doing.
Sometimes we fall into the trap of wanting to control others. I might say I have an idea about what everyone needs to do to serve the poor. The reality is that I can do that and invite others to join me. I can’t say that everyone must serve the poor according to my plan. I can’t even say that everyone has to serve these poor. What I can say is that we all need to serve others and bring glory to God. Some may do that by serving the poor, others might serve unwed mothers, others the people in their apartment building, others mothers of pre-school children, others college students away from home, and on and on. I can say we all need to be involved in Christian relationships, but I cannot say everyone must be involved in our program of small groups. Even as we organize small groups, we should not say that believers must participate, but that these groups provide one way to grow up into Christ. We may recommend, but can never require.
Every Christian who is part of the Disciples’ Fellowship community is free to do anything to serve God. We simply recognize that God may be working in other ways in the lives of our brothers and sisters. We will not impose anything except the rule to love another. Our practice of Collective Discernment and Individual Freedom is based on a recognition of how God’s Spirit works collectively and individually.
We are still growing into a new practice of community which is different from what many of us have experienced in the past. I think that it can be described as Collective Discernment and Individual Freedom. In many churches, the reality is that a few people make decisions which everyone in the larger group is expected to adopt. These are usually program-driven organizations which tend to want everyone doing the same things at the same time and in the same way. People are told to support the programs. Regimented activity is seen as helpful. It might be for some, but probably not for everyone.
The way we are trying to live as a community is with the recognition that the Spirit works in different ways in each Christian. There is no “everyone-must-be-doing-this” type of program structure. In a general way we talk about everyone growing up into the image of Christ, but we realize that there are many paths to that goal. Therefore, we have the freedom for anyone to do whatever God is calling that individual to do. If someone wants to have a Bible study with people in their neighborhood on Wednesday nights, there is no program that says “no, you must do what the others are doing on Wednesday nights.” Talking about not having “membership” does not mean that we are uncommitted to Christ or His Church, or sharing our lives together, but rather that a person does not “join” Disciples’ Fellowship as if joining an institution. A person does not join and then have to participate in required programs or duties to the organization. We share a common life in Christ in which we encourage and help one another without quenching the Spirit’s work in each believer.
For the really large directional matters, we do act collectively – and we do that through collective discernment of the God’s leading. We discuss and listen, and in our group discussion try to hear what God is saying to His people. We acknowledge the direction God is leading, but we allow individual freedom for each to be a slave to Christ - rather than being slaves to the programs of a church.
Some times it is easier to allow a church to do our spiritual thinking for us - don’t make me discern what God’s Spirit wants me to do, just give me a system of programs to follow. Organizing some ministry is not a bad thing, but making participation in that program the definitive mark of faithfulness is mistakenly thinking that God’s Spirit does the same work in each one of us, in the same way and at the same time. If I have an idea of what “we should be doing”, maybe it is actually an idea of what I should be doing. If others join with me that will be great, but maybe God is telling me what I need to be doing.
Sometimes we fall into the trap of wanting to control others. I might say I have an idea about what everyone needs to do to serve the poor. The reality is that I can do that and invite others to join me. I can’t say that everyone must serve the poor according to my plan. I can’t even say that everyone has to serve these poor. What I can say is that we all need to serve others and bring glory to God. Some may do that by serving the poor, others might serve unwed mothers, others the people in their apartment building, others mothers of pre-school children, others college students away from home, and on and on. I can say we all need to be involved in Christian relationships, but I cannot say everyone must be involved in our program of small groups. Even as we organize small groups, we should not say that believers must participate, but that these groups provide one way to grow up into Christ. We may recommend, but can never require.
Every Christian who is part of the Disciples’ Fellowship community is free to do anything to serve God. We simply recognize that God may be working in other ways in the lives of our brothers and sisters. We will not impose anything except the rule to love another. Our practice of Collective Discernment and Individual Freedom is based on a recognition of how God’s Spirit works collectively and individually.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
At our worship gatherings we don't take up a collection . . which sometimes raises questions. Here is my reply to an individual who was wondering why:
. . . I want to address the concerns you raise about giving, because I agree with what you say. Perhaps I can clarify our intentions and actions.
The main reason we chose to stop taking up a collection (not to stop giving!) was because visitors, especially some of the people we are trying to reach, often have a view that churches are all out to get your money. These individuals are turned off by extravagant buildings, inflated salaries, preachers who drive expensive cars and wear expensive jewelry, and have a skeptical outlook on churches in general. We want these visitors to see that we are not simply trying to fleece the flock. This is not a church that thinks constantly about money. Money is not that important. It seems that Jesus says the pagans are the ones who have material things foremost on their minds (Matt. 6:32-33).
I also believe that too many churches teach that you must give to that particular congregation. I believe that a more biblically correct teaching would be that we give, but I will require no one, not even one who regularly worships with us, to have to put their giving into "our" work. That is the “institutional” focus of church that I want to get away from, and develop a more “Jesus focus”. We want to make it clear that we preach commitment and discipleship to Jesus, not to our church. I want no one to make loyalty commitments to Disciples' Fellowship – but to Christ and the church which is universal and spiritual. I’ve seen too many people confuse supporting their congregation with being true to Christ. That seems to me to be dangerous. I could use harsher language . . .
Our choice had to do with visitors primarily. Visitors who are poor and have little, and who do not yet understand a Christian view of giving, would not understand about our giving. Rather than make those visitors feel uncomfortable before they have learned, I would rather teach them about giving and not let the collection plate get between them and coming to worship with us. Because we are concerned with teaching about a proper view toward our possessions, we made the decision to incorporate a prayer of thankfulness in each worship time to express our conviction that everything comes from God and that we are to be thankful. We are simply trying to make giving truly a “free-will offering”.
Passing the plate helps teach our children about giving, but not passing it won’t mean that our children don’t learn about giving. Real teaching about giving is going to have to take place more than when the plate comes around. So I don’t think that not passing a plate each week means giving is unimportant to us or that teaching it is unimportant. I believe there are simply other ways to give and teach about giving.
When it comes to giving, I do not believe that I should teach any of the following:
1) If one gives one will always receive back, especially in terms of what was given (Sometimes the blessing is treasure in heaven when the gift was some thing or action on earth).
2) The reason we give is so that we will receive (this is only greed and treating God as the best investment).
3) God’s blessings are contingent or dependent on our actions – that God only blesses after we give or do what is right, etc.
4) God promises anything more than daily bread – which is a lot less than any of us enjoy.
5) If one is a good Christian then one will prosper in this world.
My theology of giving can be simply stated as “we give because God gives.” God gives without receiving or expecting to receive. To be like God, we are not only givers but those who give without hoping for repayment, from God or anyone else. That God does often lavish us with blessings, not because we gave so well but even when our best giving is so poor, is a testimony to his grace.
. . . I want to address the concerns you raise about giving, because I agree with what you say. Perhaps I can clarify our intentions and actions.
The main reason we chose to stop taking up a collection (not to stop giving!) was because visitors, especially some of the people we are trying to reach, often have a view that churches are all out to get your money. These individuals are turned off by extravagant buildings, inflated salaries, preachers who drive expensive cars and wear expensive jewelry, and have a skeptical outlook on churches in general. We want these visitors to see that we are not simply trying to fleece the flock. This is not a church that thinks constantly about money. Money is not that important. It seems that Jesus says the pagans are the ones who have material things foremost on their minds (Matt. 6:32-33).
I also believe that too many churches teach that you must give to that particular congregation. I believe that a more biblically correct teaching would be that we give, but I will require no one, not even one who regularly worships with us, to have to put their giving into "our" work. That is the “institutional” focus of church that I want to get away from, and develop a more “Jesus focus”. We want to make it clear that we preach commitment and discipleship to Jesus, not to our church. I want no one to make loyalty commitments to Disciples' Fellowship – but to Christ and the church which is universal and spiritual. I’ve seen too many people confuse supporting their congregation with being true to Christ. That seems to me to be dangerous. I could use harsher language . . .
Our choice had to do with visitors primarily. Visitors who are poor and have little, and who do not yet understand a Christian view of giving, would not understand about our giving. Rather than make those visitors feel uncomfortable before they have learned, I would rather teach them about giving and not let the collection plate get between them and coming to worship with us. Because we are concerned with teaching about a proper view toward our possessions, we made the decision to incorporate a prayer of thankfulness in each worship time to express our conviction that everything comes from God and that we are to be thankful. We are simply trying to make giving truly a “free-will offering”.
Passing the plate helps teach our children about giving, but not passing it won’t mean that our children don’t learn about giving. Real teaching about giving is going to have to take place more than when the plate comes around. So I don’t think that not passing a plate each week means giving is unimportant to us or that teaching it is unimportant. I believe there are simply other ways to give and teach about giving.
When it comes to giving, I do not believe that I should teach any of the following:
1) If one gives one will always receive back, especially in terms of what was given (Sometimes the blessing is treasure in heaven when the gift was some thing or action on earth).
2) The reason we give is so that we will receive (this is only greed and treating God as the best investment).
3) God’s blessings are contingent or dependent on our actions – that God only blesses after we give or do what is right, etc.
4) God promises anything more than daily bread – which is a lot less than any of us enjoy.
5) If one is a good Christian then one will prosper in this world.
My theology of giving can be simply stated as “we give because God gives.” God gives without receiving or expecting to receive. To be like God, we are not only givers but those who give without hoping for repayment, from God or anyone else. That God does often lavish us with blessings, not because we gave so well but even when our best giving is so poor, is a testimony to his grace.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Monday, January 05, 2004
When is it faith, and when is it recklessness? That is a question a good friend asked recently in a group where we were talking about opportunities. That is a very good question. How do we determine when we are acting in apparent recklessness because of faith, and when we are simply being reckless and excusing it as faith?
Friday, December 26, 2003
With the transformation of the anticipation of Advent into the gift of the coming of Christ, we are left to answer what we will do with the presence of God among us. How will we be changed? What will the "light for revelation to the Gentiles" reveal to us about what is in us? What I am going to do about it might even be a greater question.
I learned some time ago that my first response to what God reveals in me is to trust in the atoning death of Jesus. The faith I put in Jesus is both desperate and sure. Desperate because I truly realize that I have no other recourse, but sure because the promise is based on God's faithfulness to me, not my faithfulness to Him.
And yet . . . that is only a first response. Even with the certainty of Christ's atoning death, I still need to ask myself what I am going to do about that in me which necessitated Christ's death - even though the guilt and punishment has been fully removed. I was not saved to continue to sin, but to be freed to become like my Savior.
After all the wrapping paper has been thrown away, the Christmas tree taken down, and the ornaments packed away for another year, what will the legacy of this Christmas be? The gift of Christ was given by the Father that we might become gifts in Christ to the Father.
I learned some time ago that my first response to what God reveals in me is to trust in the atoning death of Jesus. The faith I put in Jesus is both desperate and sure. Desperate because I truly realize that I have no other recourse, but sure because the promise is based on God's faithfulness to me, not my faithfulness to Him.
And yet . . . that is only a first response. Even with the certainty of Christ's atoning death, I still need to ask myself what I am going to do about that in me which necessitated Christ's death - even though the guilt and punishment has been fully removed. I was not saved to continue to sin, but to be freed to become like my Savior.
After all the wrapping paper has been thrown away, the Christmas tree taken down, and the ornaments packed away for another year, what will the legacy of this Christmas be? The gift of Christ was given by the Father that we might become gifts in Christ to the Father.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
I see two intertwined problems: We need to move away from individualistic Christianity and toward community, but we also need to take more personal responsibility instead of relying on our churches. At first, I know this sounds contradictory - like I'm discouraging individuality, and then encouraging it. Like I am calling for community, and then saying we rely on it too much. But I see a huge difference between individualism and taking personal responsibility, and the type of community I am calling for and our churches.
Militant individualism shuns accountability, prefers personal interpretation, and asserts the rights of a person, all in ways that interpret Christianity as fundamentally between each person and God. The way this extreme individualism views a church is as a resource for the intensely individual pursuit of God. Church is not community, it is here to help me. I think we become too dependent on churches as sources of nourishment to spur on our personal growth.
I believe that we need to grow to see our faith as fundamentally communal, in a way that cannot be organized through a church with its campus, meetings, programs, and structures. Christian community (not human community based on preference, personal tastes, shared interests, social status, etc.) can occur in organized churches, but only among those who seek it despite the organizational structures of meetings, buildings, and programs. The personal responsibility comes in when we talk about "seeking" that community.
I find myself trying too hard to help people have community who may not truly want it. Maybe they don't understand it. I think perhaps they are victims of an individualism that our culture promotes. They may only want social interaction, or self-serving relationships, . . . but if they do not want community, and the personal responsibility involved in participating in it, along with the accountability and transparency required, there is little that can be done except to offer it and live in it.
I'm not the first to state that our churches are designed to cater to the individualism of our culture. We need counter-cultural communities of believers that practice Christian community and call for personal responsibility. When we understand the true meaning of those two ideas, we will grasp how counter-cultural we will be.
Militant individualism shuns accountability, prefers personal interpretation, and asserts the rights of a person, all in ways that interpret Christianity as fundamentally between each person and God. The way this extreme individualism views a church is as a resource for the intensely individual pursuit of God. Church is not community, it is here to help me. I think we become too dependent on churches as sources of nourishment to spur on our personal growth.
I believe that we need to grow to see our faith as fundamentally communal, in a way that cannot be organized through a church with its campus, meetings, programs, and structures. Christian community (not human community based on preference, personal tastes, shared interests, social status, etc.) can occur in organized churches, but only among those who seek it despite the organizational structures of meetings, buildings, and programs. The personal responsibility comes in when we talk about "seeking" that community.
I find myself trying too hard to help people have community who may not truly want it. Maybe they don't understand it. I think perhaps they are victims of an individualism that our culture promotes. They may only want social interaction, or self-serving relationships, . . . but if they do not want community, and the personal responsibility involved in participating in it, along with the accountability and transparency required, there is little that can be done except to offer it and live in it.
I'm not the first to state that our churches are designed to cater to the individualism of our culture. We need counter-cultural communities of believers that practice Christian community and call for personal responsibility. When we understand the true meaning of those two ideas, we will grasp how counter-cultural we will be.
Monday, December 01, 2003
Just got back yesterday from Thanksgiving in Iowa. We went to see my parents.
I was going back to a place where I lived for two years, when I was in third and fourth grade. It was, and still is, a very small cluster of houses built around eight streets with no commercial activity at all. Today the two main streets are paved, though the others still are dirt as they were before. The elementary school is closed now, as is the community center, which used to be a general store long ago. There are two churches, but since one is moving out to the highway into a new building, within the month there will only be one. It was a great place to be kid - and probably still is.
Now when I drive through the streets where we rode our bicycles, and stop at the creek where we swam, and see the empty lot where we played, everything seems so small. What seemed to be far away back then was really only a mile or less. It also looks so very rundown and dilapidated. I asked my parents if the houses look the same today as they did when we lived there, and apparently they do. I guess when I was nine or ten I didn't know that our town looked poor. I hadn't learned to be as conscious of material possessions as I am today.
I am less easily satisfied than I was as a boy. Having a bicycle, a place to play, and a best friend was all that mattered. It probably still is - but I am just less aware of it.
I was going back to a place where I lived for two years, when I was in third and fourth grade. It was, and still is, a very small cluster of houses built around eight streets with no commercial activity at all. Today the two main streets are paved, though the others still are dirt as they were before. The elementary school is closed now, as is the community center, which used to be a general store long ago. There are two churches, but since one is moving out to the highway into a new building, within the month there will only be one. It was a great place to be kid - and probably still is.
Now when I drive through the streets where we rode our bicycles, and stop at the creek where we swam, and see the empty lot where we played, everything seems so small. What seemed to be far away back then was really only a mile or less. It also looks so very rundown and dilapidated. I asked my parents if the houses look the same today as they did when we lived there, and apparently they do. I guess when I was nine or ten I didn't know that our town looked poor. I hadn't learned to be as conscious of material possessions as I am today.
I am less easily satisfied than I was as a boy. Having a bicycle, a place to play, and a best friend was all that mattered. It probably still is - but I am just less aware of it.
Friday, November 21, 2003
I went to a concert at Covenant Presbyterian with my son and Christian friends from our fellowship last night. We heard Derek Webb sing some of the new songs off his new SHE MUST and SHALL GO FREE album, which is all about the church. Everywhere I turn I hear the same message. People are calling for change, but it's not a rejection of church for an intensely personal and individualistic Christianity. That would be tragically self-centered and un-Christlike. I hear a longing for the total recreation of the church into something much more real, authentic, and God-focused. I also hear from many a recognition that the Christian culture which is televised, sold in stores, and pre-packaged so that we might be an enclave unto ourselves is an abandonment of our calling. We rightfully have seen the fall of Christendom - that we might rule the world (we made a mess in the process and tarnished the person of Christ) - and some are retreating to a segregated existence. The idea of aliens, sojourners, pilgrims, of being salt and light, and of an incarnational church seems not an option to those who wanted to rule. I guess it's "if we can't rule the world, we'll create our world where we do rule." There is another option, of ruling with Christ as he rules in mystery over a world seemingly not as responsive to his sovereignty as we would like. We can simply be the people of God and embrace all the distress of being foreigners in a hostile world. A world of enemies we will serve and sacrifice ourselves for, as Christ did not only for us, but for all.
Something else: One of Derek's unrecorded songs, "I Repent", was so compelling I include the lyrics for you. I pray that God helps you know in your heart the truth of Derek's words.
i repent
i repent of my pursuit of America's dream
i repent of living like i deserve anything
my house, my fence, my kids, and my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent of parading my liberty
i repent of paying for what i get for free
the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
wearin' righteousness like a disguise to see through
the planks in my own eyes
i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
of caring more of what they think than what i know of what they need
and domesticating You until You look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent
Something else: One of Derek's unrecorded songs, "I Repent", was so compelling I include the lyrics for you. I pray that God helps you know in your heart the truth of Derek's words.
i repent
i repent of my pursuit of America's dream
i repent of living like i deserve anything
my house, my fence, my kids, and my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent of parading my liberty
i repent of paying for what i get for free
the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
wearin' righteousness like a disguise to see through
the planks in my own eyes
i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
of caring more of what they think than what i know of what they need
and domesticating You until You look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Saturday a number of us gathered to distribute food to the needy, a project we call United Neighbors. Our goal was to tell people that Jesus loves them, and to do that in word and with a gift of food. Equipped with addresses and maps, we loaded the 60 bags of groceries into our cars and split up to make our deliveries.
Without fail there is much to be gained from a discipline of Good Works. One thing we learned, is that though our first delivery was at 9:30 am and we continued until 11:30 am, we woke someone up at each residence. Some received us warmly, and others were not as friendly. They knew we were coming because they had returned a self-addressed stamped envelope requesting the groceries. But maybe they felt uncomfortable, or uncertain. We prayed with the people in every house and told them that God loves them. We were reminded of how many people who live right around us struggle to have what we enjoy every day.
We were totally surprised Sunday morning when a mother called our Upper Room at 8:30 am to see if someone could come pick up her daughter, a woman who is married with children of her own, one of those we had visited. Without even making "our church" or "inviting people to do anything" an emphasis, someone wanted to spend some more time with us. Maybe that person wanted to be with us because we hadn't asked anything of her.
Do good. God works.
Without fail there is much to be gained from a discipline of Good Works. One thing we learned, is that though our first delivery was at 9:30 am and we continued until 11:30 am, we woke someone up at each residence. Some received us warmly, and others were not as friendly. They knew we were coming because they had returned a self-addressed stamped envelope requesting the groceries. But maybe they felt uncomfortable, or uncertain. We prayed with the people in every house and told them that God loves them. We were reminded of how many people who live right around us struggle to have what we enjoy every day.
We were totally surprised Sunday morning when a mother called our Upper Room at 8:30 am to see if someone could come pick up her daughter, a woman who is married with children of her own, one of those we had visited. Without even making "our church" or "inviting people to do anything" an emphasis, someone wanted to spend some more time with us. Maybe that person wanted to be with us because we hadn't asked anything of her.
Do good. God works.
Friday, November 14, 2003
I was blessed this morning with fellowship and community from an unlikely source - a call from someone I've never met before; a person who lives a good 700 miles from where I sit and write this blog. He wanted to know what our little band of believers is doing. He had visited our website, read what we say there, and wanted to find out more. What he and I found out quickly is that we are brothers in Christ (not because we traded and examined each other's doctrinal positions - as if community depends on facts we hold as true) but we share a common desire to seek Christ, know Christ, share Christ - all at any cost. He has the stripes to prove it too - fired from two churches for not sticking to the once-for-all received beliefs and practices as they were defined a few decades ago.
What I discovered this morning is simply more evidence of what God is doing. God wants to bring together those who are hearing the same call - a message about being totally focused on God through Christ and as experienced in the Spirit. A call to get Christ back in the center and to be the church, rather than focusing on promoting the church as an institution. To clear away where religion has obscured Jesus, and be bound to Christ and Him alone.
God is working and moving. He is speaking the same message throughout Christianity. He's not sitting back to see if it happens, God is making it happen! This is exciting!
What I discovered this morning is simply more evidence of what God is doing. God wants to bring together those who are hearing the same call - a message about being totally focused on God through Christ and as experienced in the Spirit. A call to get Christ back in the center and to be the church, rather than focusing on promoting the church as an institution. To clear away where religion has obscured Jesus, and be bound to Christ and Him alone.
God is working and moving. He is speaking the same message throughout Christianity. He's not sitting back to see if it happens, God is making it happen! This is exciting!
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
What am I thinking? What am I thinking? Truly, honestly, deep down inside whatever the conscious mind really is, what am I thinking? Actually, I am thinking about what I'm feeling. I'm not always doing that, but that's what I am doing now. At least I'm thinking that writing what I am feeling would be a whole lot easier than writing what I'm thinking.
So what am I feeling? That is a lot easier to know, I guess because I probably believe that a thought should be something noteworthy, but a feeling just is what it is. But I don't think I really want to write about what I'm feeling because I start to think about what someone else is going to think of what I'm feeling. I guess it is easier to write about what I think, but easier to know how I feel - if that makes any sense. (By now it is obvious I just sat down to write something, anything - without any real plan. If this stream of consciousness thing doesn't work, I won't do it again).
Ok, let's be honest about the feeling part. I feel scared. I've always felt scared. Not knowing what the future holds, and being smart enough to realize that it often holds unpleasantries, is enough to make any sane person scared. What I feel scared about has changed a lot over the years, but I always find something to be scared about. When I was ten I was sometimes scared of other kids who picked fights, and I never wanted to fight. I was scared of getting in trouble. When I was in high school and college I would dread upcoming events - like some big test or very unpleasant requirement like having to give a speech in class. Now, it is easy to worry about the kids - are they going to turn out to be decent, functional people? I'd be happy with just normal - I don't need super-achievements. Just don't be an ax-murderer.
Now to be honest, I don't just feel scared. I would be terrified if I only felt scared. No, I also feel loved, and happy, and even secure. I feel secure about matters much bigger than the things I'm scared of. When I live all too aware of and focused on the little things, the bits and pieces about the future that are uncertain, my sense of fear can grow. But there is this really big and sure sense of ultimate comfort that reminds me that even if my worst fears come to pass, I'm safe with God. Where did that come from? I didn't get that reassuring peace because someone told me about it; I think it came through having lived through a lifetime of fears and discovering God's faithfulness.
So what am I feeling? That is a lot easier to know, I guess because I probably believe that a thought should be something noteworthy, but a feeling just is what it is. But I don't think I really want to write about what I'm feeling because I start to think about what someone else is going to think of what I'm feeling. I guess it is easier to write about what I think, but easier to know how I feel - if that makes any sense. (By now it is obvious I just sat down to write something, anything - without any real plan. If this stream of consciousness thing doesn't work, I won't do it again).
Ok, let's be honest about the feeling part. I feel scared. I've always felt scared. Not knowing what the future holds, and being smart enough to realize that it often holds unpleasantries, is enough to make any sane person scared. What I feel scared about has changed a lot over the years, but I always find something to be scared about. When I was ten I was sometimes scared of other kids who picked fights, and I never wanted to fight. I was scared of getting in trouble. When I was in high school and college I would dread upcoming events - like some big test or very unpleasant requirement like having to give a speech in class. Now, it is easy to worry about the kids - are they going to turn out to be decent, functional people? I'd be happy with just normal - I don't need super-achievements. Just don't be an ax-murderer.
Now to be honest, I don't just feel scared. I would be terrified if I only felt scared. No, I also feel loved, and happy, and even secure. I feel secure about matters much bigger than the things I'm scared of. When I live all too aware of and focused on the little things, the bits and pieces about the future that are uncertain, my sense of fear can grow. But there is this really big and sure sense of ultimate comfort that reminds me that even if my worst fears come to pass, I'm safe with God. Where did that come from? I didn't get that reassuring peace because someone told me about it; I think it came through having lived through a lifetime of fears and discovering God's faithfulness.
Monday, November 10, 2003
It is much easier to talk about community, than truly pursue it. So much of the time even when we want relationships, to have close friendships and not to be alone, our own selfishness sabotages everything. Selfishness has to be one of the great barriers to community.
I suspect that selfishness comes in many varieties. These subtle opinions, personal likes and dislikes, and desires effectively create so many tensions and disputes that building community becomes a true test of patience and endurance. And I haven't even mentioned selfish expectations. Paradoxically, I believe that we might be able to have selfish opinions about what is best for everyone else. Is it selfish to be opinionated? It seems to be if I have little room for anyone else's thought to be accepted, or patience for it to be expressed.
I am thinking that only in desiring something greater than our selfish ambitions will we discover community. I don't think the answer is to desire community itself. We really don't build community. Community results among those who are bound together by something greater than everything that would naturally drive them apart. I imagine that one might experience strong community in a foxhole. Teams in any sport often have a strong sense of community. Our desire is not for any ministry or mission or goal to be what binds us together, but for the person of Jesus Christ. From Christ we will all learn selflessness and discover we are in community in the process.
I think that I am wanting community sometimes when I ought to simply want Christ.
I suspect that selfishness comes in many varieties. These subtle opinions, personal likes and dislikes, and desires effectively create so many tensions and disputes that building community becomes a true test of patience and endurance. And I haven't even mentioned selfish expectations. Paradoxically, I believe that we might be able to have selfish opinions about what is best for everyone else. Is it selfish to be opinionated? It seems to be if I have little room for anyone else's thought to be accepted, or patience for it to be expressed.
I am thinking that only in desiring something greater than our selfish ambitions will we discover community. I don't think the answer is to desire community itself. We really don't build community. Community results among those who are bound together by something greater than everything that would naturally drive them apart. I imagine that one might experience strong community in a foxhole. Teams in any sport often have a strong sense of community. Our desire is not for any ministry or mission or goal to be what binds us together, but for the person of Jesus Christ. From Christ we will all learn selflessness and discover we are in community in the process.
I think that I am wanting community sometimes when I ought to simply want Christ.
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
A Matter of Excellence?
I know that in matters pertaining to church "events" the reasoning goes that "we should do things with excellence to honor God". I understand that thinking. But let me be perfectly contradictory for moment. (That's what blogs are for, right?) Our mantra that calls for excellence creates a "measuring mentality." Every event, whether a worship time, the delivery or content of a lesson, the organization of an activity, or whatever, is evaluated and critiqued. The theology of excellence leads us to monitor the presentation of everything. With so much feedback on performance, we ought to be wondering where our thoughts are during those times.
Rather than striving for excellence so that we might honor God (at least that is why we say we are striving for excellence - it wouldn't be for our own pride) maybe we ought to do things poorly to confess our own depravity. Sometimes I think we ought to do things poorly just to remind us that the "performance and execution" is not important. If there is an excellent presentation, everyone wants the next one to top the last. Every "event" is then critiqued so that we might "do it better." Better for whom? For God? Was the presentation/performance/execution not up to God's standards? Do we ever think that we could be up to God's standards? Maybe a discipline of doing things poorly would help us remember that it is what we are doing and not how.
There is a very true saying about food and affluence: The poor worry about the quantity of the food - will there be enough? People of the middle class worry about the quality of the food - is it good enough? The wealthy worry about the presentation of the food - does it have the right look?
Spiritually we are acting like the rich who worry about presentation. If we realize that we are spiritually impoverished then we will only be concerned with the availability of spiritual food and not its presentation. Maybe that is why in eight years in Tanzania I never heard one complaint, critique, or suggestion of how we needed to do something better or with more excellence when we came together to worship God. In American Christianity our "worship wars" are a luxury afforded to those who have so much we can actually fuss about presentation. If God would give us a famine of spiritual food, Christians would be seeking wherever they could find it without regard to the excellence of presentation.
Do you think this blog entry was excellent?
I know that in matters pertaining to church "events" the reasoning goes that "we should do things with excellence to honor God". I understand that thinking. But let me be perfectly contradictory for moment. (That's what blogs are for, right?) Our mantra that calls for excellence creates a "measuring mentality." Every event, whether a worship time, the delivery or content of a lesson, the organization of an activity, or whatever, is evaluated and critiqued. The theology of excellence leads us to monitor the presentation of everything. With so much feedback on performance, we ought to be wondering where our thoughts are during those times.
Rather than striving for excellence so that we might honor God (at least that is why we say we are striving for excellence - it wouldn't be for our own pride) maybe we ought to do things poorly to confess our own depravity. Sometimes I think we ought to do things poorly just to remind us that the "performance and execution" is not important. If there is an excellent presentation, everyone wants the next one to top the last. Every "event" is then critiqued so that we might "do it better." Better for whom? For God? Was the presentation/performance/execution not up to God's standards? Do we ever think that we could be up to God's standards? Maybe a discipline of doing things poorly would help us remember that it is what we are doing and not how.
There is a very true saying about food and affluence: The poor worry about the quantity of the food - will there be enough? People of the middle class worry about the quality of the food - is it good enough? The wealthy worry about the presentation of the food - does it have the right look?
Spiritually we are acting like the rich who worry about presentation. If we realize that we are spiritually impoverished then we will only be concerned with the availability of spiritual food and not its presentation. Maybe that is why in eight years in Tanzania I never heard one complaint, critique, or suggestion of how we needed to do something better or with more excellence when we came together to worship God. In American Christianity our "worship wars" are a luxury afforded to those who have so much we can actually fuss about presentation. If God would give us a famine of spiritual food, Christians would be seeking wherever they could find it without regard to the excellence of presentation.
Do you think this blog entry was excellent?
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