This Needs No Further Explanation

“The point about Jesus’ resurrection is not ‘He’s alive again, therefore there is a life after death,’… It’s not, ‘Jesus is alive again, therefore we’re all going to go to heaven,’ … The point about the resurrection is, ‘Jesus has been raised from the dead, therefore God’s new creation has begun, and therefore we have a job to do… We don’t need to worry (about our sin) any more… but you do need to work.” -NT Wright

The Basics, Pt. 1

Was thinking this afternoon: what are the basics of Christianity, of discipleship, of apprenticeship to Jesus?

I’m sure everyone has their lists, so here’s mine:

  1. Allegiance to the risen Christ. Christ is king, to the exclusion of all other pretenders. The pretenders in the 1st and 2nd centuries were Herod and the Roman emperor(s). Christ’s lordship was revolutionary (though not political or militant) and subversive. As I’ve written before, today’s pretenders are our middle-class, consumer culture, and nationalism. Christ claims allegiance over all, and demands that we submit our decisions to his criteria or constitution.
  2. Service to the least of these. Best example would probably come from Matthew 25. Christ paints a pretty stark (maybe even bleak?) picture of who has served him, who has “seen him”. You can’t read the gospels (or the Psalms, or Isaiah, or the prophets) without understanding God’s and Christ’s pretty serious orientation towards the poor, the marginalized.
  3. Communal orientation. As one of my former pastors used to like to say, “If you are looking for a lone ranger religion, don’t look at Christianity. Community is not an option.” I was reading through Paul’s first letter to the church at Corinth, and over and over again he seems to be saying, “I am free to do just about anything, but if my freedom messes with a brother or sister’s conscience in any way, then I will stop it. I will look at others first, rather than assuming the primacy of my own opinions and desires.” Individualism is the currency of the west. Sometimes I’m not sure if we can even begin to understand what it means to be “the people of God.”
  4. One story of salvation. This is where I’d probably cause a bit of a stir, but I’m beginning to believe more and more that the “one plan of salvation” through Abraham accurately captures God’s plan of salvation. For now, I guess the implications are (1) Israel matters. You can’t read the Old Testament and just read it as a “preamble” to the New Testament. God’s plan was always to work salvation through Israel for the rest of the world, and Christ carried it to its fulfillment through his death on the cross. (btw, this isn’t new theology, just new to evangelicals) (2) Relatedly, I guess you have to take what God wants from his people, as revealed in the whole of scripture (check the prophets, especially). That’s what it means to be the people of God.
  5. Growth is a part of the power of the Spirit. Being a Christian means being a disciple, which means living under discipline. Which means engaging the timeless practices of God’s people. Check here and here for some ideas. It’s not negotiable.

What’s missing? A lot of “doctrine”, I suppose. Was wondering this morning (obviously, I lot of wondering today): How much doctrine is in the bible? I think for a long time people assumed that Paul (and even the gospel writers) were writing church doctrine out. I’m not so sure anymore. I think Paul was trying to keep his little “flocks” from drifting into either extreme errancy and immorality or drifting back into an exclusionary, ethnic-based “Jew-only” faith. I think he was improvising according to the needs that confronted him (based on his knowledge of God-through-Torah, his experience of Christ, and his awareness of the Spirit).

I’m assuming a lot of love. I’m assuming the sacraments. I’m assuming living under the authority of the bible, being a people of the book.

So there. More later.

Just So Everyone Knows…

There is a scene from Thornton Wilder’s play, The Angel That Troubled the Water.  A doctor comes to a healing pool every day wanting to be healed of his melancholy and his gloom and his sadness. Finally the angel appears. The doctor goes to step into the water but the angel blocks his path, saying, “No, step back, the healing is not for you.” The doctor pleads, “But I’ve got to get into the water. I can’t live this way.” The angel says, “No, this moment is not for you.” And he says, “But how can I live this way?”

The angel says to him, “Doctor, without your wounds where would your power be? It is your melancholy that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men and women. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children of this earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In love’s service, only wounded soldiers can serve.”

————–

I don’t know why
The angel follows you from so far behind
You say it’s a surprise
Keeps you guessing all of the time

You made a mistake
I can see it written over you face
Tears sketching out the truth of your pain
But I say, it’s alright

You were so good to me
Even angels long to be
Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love

I saw your dress
Saw it hanging on the back of a chair
Oh baby, yeah, I was there
And I guess your virtue ain’t all that it was

You had a good time
Gave your heart to all the valentines
And now I know you might be disinclined to admit
But it felt pretty good

You were so good to me
Even angels long to be
Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love

All the stories in the lonely places
All the songs in the silences
We’re all strong in the broken places
Everybody’s broken on the wheels of love

Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love
Broken on the wheels of love

The Liturgical Revolution

This is from a church here in Tallahassee; some friends of mine go here.

St. Peter’s is (in my opinion) doing a great job of reaching folks in their 20s and 30s. As an evangelical, I daresay it’s even shocking. My evangelical “programming” has told me for virtually ten years that folks want loud music and entertaining gatherings full of contemporary markers (U2 songs and “Lost” references, anybody?).

Anglicanism says otherwise. It says that a lot of (at least white) people my age and younger want gatherings that are marked by:

  • a sense of history
  • mystery
  • peace
  • discipline
  • structure

What a mind-blowing thought! My only questions circle around the way that humble traditions and “outfits” have grown up over the years to become more and more ornate and (I daresay) expensive. Why the exaltation of Roman culture? For all the pull that Anglicanism, history and tradition has on me, I feel challenged by the apparent “freezing” of church culture in a particular time period.

What would a historical, yet traditional, church look like? How could you infuse tradition with appropriate current cultural items? How could you transform the “everyday” items in our lives into meaningful symbols of the shared values of our faith?

Beyond “Authenticity”

Recently, I was reading a favorite author/theologian of mine (I’m very sorry I can’t remember who it was, but if it comes to mind I’ll post it). He was discussing “sermon preparation”, and he wrote something to the effect of, “I’ll struggle through the texts and commentaries so that my congregation won’t have to.”

That really set things into perspective for me, and I was thinking about it again this morning.

A lot of the time, we enjoy the image of the Pastor as the-same-as-you person. An approachable man or woman that you can talk to and share your life with. And that’s valid; completely.

But sometimes, I wonder if we neglect the other, deeper parts of our calling, if we over-emphasize “buddy pastor” (in the same way like to hang out with “buddy Christ?).

Perhaps it’s our job to wrestle with the “deep things” — actually, if we believe it, the “deepest things” — and to find some understanding and method to this world, to our God. Authenticity is important, but I need more than authenticity when I go to a doctor. I want someone who can understand my body and give me an explanation for what’s wrong and develop a plan for me on how to get better. I want more than a friend…

… Therefore, I don’t feel ashamed about including the words theopany, justification, and sanctification in my coffee shop conversation this morning.

Where is my city?

In a book I’m reading right now, the author lists six markers of a “city”.

  1. public spaces
  2. mixed-use zoning
  3. local economy
  4. beauty and quality in the built environment
  5. critical mass
  6. presence of strangers

I’m somewhat incredulous as to how the capital of Florida can not have — what would be reasonable? — four of these markers? Where are the mixed-use zones? Where is beauty and quality in the built environment?

More thoughtfully, though, could a church actually help bring these things about? Could a community bring these things into fruition?

Reflections on Catalyst 2009

I just got back from the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta; it was my first time attending the live event, though I’ve watched DVDs from the past 2 years. I thought I’d throw out a few reflections from the event.

  1. The Justification Wars Are Hot. Though speakers from different perspectives were there, any anticipated public denouncing or “zingers” didn’t occur. What didhappen, however were a few decidedly public shots into the debate on justification, most typically represented by NT Wright and John Piper. One speaker, in the middle of a talk about something else, decided to clarify the definition of the gospel as the appropriating of the righteousness of Jesus to cover our sins (this to many shouts of approval from the crowd). Note: curiously, this same speaker immediately used — as an example of this gospel — the story of Peter converting Cornelius in Acts 10:31-43 in which Peter never references the “atoning blood of Jesus”.

  2. Resurrection Isn’t So Hot. In all the talks, there was very little discussion of the mind-blowing event of resurrection. People are still more intrigued by Jesus’ death than they are the inauguration of the new age.
  3. Please Stop Shouting At Me. Nothing personal, but by the middle of the second day I really just wanted the music to be turned down, and wanted a speaker to whisper the love and beauty of God over me. We (those?) evangelicals really like it loud and pumping, both their music and their teaching. Curiously, never in two days did 12,000 leaders pray, read scripture, or recite a creed in one voice. We could hear each other sing, but I sat thinking how powerful it would be to recite the Lord’s Prayer, or the Nicene Creed, or a prayer of confession.

There were other, more personal revelations, but I think that from an observational standpoint, those were my takeaways.

meh.

Decades

Okay, so yeah, I’m 41.

I never thought I’d be have a mid-life crisis; I always considered it so cliché. However, the truth is hard: just you try to be a relevant musician in his forties!

I’ve been struggling and wrestling with this concept of my age for at least a year now. I seemed to sneak through the actual birthday relatively unchanged, but the nagging feeling of “growing up” has been gaining power and momentum ever since, and the whispers are now beginning to become more assertive and audible.

So, yes, I’ve been having my share of “existential crises”: questions of meaning, activities, “could haves” versus “should haves” and so on and so on. I won’t bore any of you with the details (at least right now – that will happen another time over coffee or beer), but a few days ago, an encouraging thought peaked through the storm clouds:

My thirties were pretty good.

You see, I never really had a vocation or a calling until I hit 29. My twenties were pretty much a wasteland of wandering uncertainties and undemanding ambitions. However, by the time I hit 30 I’d discovered (or rather, been called) into this vocation called “ministry”, and I set off down the path. That decade was filled with: two children; two trips to Europe for ministry; a church plant; two tours around the country for ministry and music; awesome times in possibly the best city in the country (sorry NYC); intellectual curiosities and spiritual revelations; satisfaction and hunger; great vacations; some crisis; grace and forgiveness.

I’ve been running now for 10 years. It’s tempting to think that “it’s over”, but I need to remind myself that if all of that happened in the ten years–that I went from meandering to relatively focused, that I played a lot of music, grew my family up–that a lot more can happen in the next ten.

Here’s hoping.

A new decade.

Convince Me

I feel like I’m on the verge of becoming a “grumpy old man” (well, let’s face it, I already am one), but I feel like I am watching the Church continue to dabble in error.

I have yet to be convinced in any form or fashion that the “multi-site” movement in the church is profitable in the long run.

Descending quickly to the bottom line, and unflinchingly showing my cards, I’ll declare that any movement to restrain the growth and development of the incarnational church is suspicious to me. Any object or paradigm that comes between the God’s children in need and the pastors who are to shepherd them is problematic, and the reason that the multi-site approach is nefarious is that — at least in part — it is predicated on the idea that the “church” exists in one community, while the “sheep” in another community.

How can this be good?

“But there are pastors who would be located in that community.” Okay, that’s good. What will they be doing? This is where the debate gets really murky, because in some cases they appear to be shepherds who take care of people, in others they will teach.

If they will teach, why not just declare the “site” a plant, and be done with it? Allow it to grow up with its own ethos, its own roots and style, its own giftedness.

Why not allow it to be free?

If the teaching will be “on screen”, then that brings a whole host of other questions. While employing the tools of culture to reach folks, “screen teaching” seems to unnecessarily cater to “passive learning” that some theologians and cultural commentators find so troubling.

In my opinion, it returns me to a similar thought I had a year ago: this is reflective of the church’s priorities. What does it say about us? Does it say we are interested in developing creative leaders and teachers, in allowing the Church to grow and flourish in localized and individual expressions? Or does it say that we are interested in control, in technology over gifts, in haste over patience.

Couldn’t the long-term health of the church be served as well by waiting another 12 – 18 months to develop the right leader for a localized, incarnational expression of the church, rather than pressing play on a DVD or a web stream?

A “Non-Update”

Haven’t posted here in a while; I’ve been processing through so many things.

By nature, I like revolution over evolution. My idea of change is an abrupt rupture. “Break it or leave it.”

I also function in three-year seasons. Any intelligent person could see it in my resume. I get restless, and I want to try something new. It’s a function of a few things, I think:

  1. My restless nature
  2. My hunger for new things
  3. My pleasure in bringing sustainable order to chaos
  4. My resistance to deep community

So I’ve been here for 3 years, and the urge is simmering, boiling and rising. I look around me, and see both evolutionary and revolutionary change. The consequences for this now are so much larger, as I have kids who are rooted and grounded, with friends of their own, but I am also a child of Abraham, following a God who calls us to leave our homes and follow him.

As far as I can see, I have one of three paths in front of me (always leave room for more, though, YHWH likes to surprise):

  • Stay and grow through this job, go deeper into community, and enjoy watching my children grow up;
  • Cut the cord and step into a more challenging leadership role (that I am simultaneously confident in and terrified of); OR
  • Cut the cord, trade in my ministry toys, and go play somewhere else.

I have been in vocational ministry for 10 years. Essentially, I have been doing the same job, though largely through passion and choice. Still, the same job?

Isn’t it time to grow? Time to stretch muscle and sinew? I’m wrestle with the fact that maybe my malaise in life has been a result of not aspiring high enough, not risking enough, rather than too much. After all, I’m not aspiring to anything that people haven’t told me before that I was capable of.

One thing is for sure; something is coming; always is…