–John Howard Yoder [quoted on p. 87]
Kenda Creasy Dean cuts right the heart of the problem with the American church in this chapter:
“Every church is called to be a ‘missional church.’ The fact that we have turned the word ‘mission’ into an adjective testifies to the American church’s frayed ecclesiology. A nonmissional church is not a church in the first place, but in a culture largely void of a theological vocabulary, this language has become necessary to remind us that the church exists not for ourselves, but for the world.” [p. 89-90, bold emphasis mine]
As much as we like to quote the Great Commission as the mission of the Church, I worry sometimes if we “get it.” How easy is it to assume “making disciples” is the same thing as making church members? How easy is it to assume baptizing and teaching are the primary means by which we grow the church? What about the mission of God? Does the Church simply exist for itself and those within its walls?
Participating in God’s mission intrinsically links us to the life of Christ — a life given as a most radical act of grace, a life so bound up into our lives that absolutely nothing can separate us from him — and we’re called to respond by linking our lives to the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. All of this is how we know and participate in the mission of God. And by the way, for the church to be missional, we have to see mission as more than just a trip.
Dean uses the work of Andrew Walls to identify missional values consistent through Christian history. There are two main “missionary principles”:
The pilgrim’s job is to confess the good news of God in Jesus Christ. The pilgrim’s life is to become a testimony to the love and presence of God. The pilgrim’s job is to confess, not convince. This really challenged me when I came across this in reading this book. Maybe we ought to spend a little less time grandstanding on whatever the issue of the days is and spend a little more time authentically confessing the presence of God in our lives — a mysterious yet undeniable force that continually shapes us. The truth is, the more we confess, the better we’re able to see what we confess. As we practice looking for God’s active presence in our lives we gain new eyes to see the world around us and, eventually, new ears to hear the call to go further in the journey of discipleship.
Sometimes we’re called to faithfully wait as we hone these new eyes and ears. Being encountered by God is a big deal. It calls for a total life change in response. And this doesn’t happen over night. Even the disciples and gospel writers needed time to process what we heard and saw and how it transcended life as they knew it. As Dean puts it:
“It must have been part of what people remembered, and recounted, when they retold the story of that Easter night. In this moment of grace, of divine waiting…God remains with us. This paradoxical place, where Christ woos us as he waits for us, is marked by revelation, recognition, and rejoicing.” [p. 102]
Confession is not an easy thing. But we can’t get too absorbed by the temptation to convince others lest we forget that we don’t totally “get” when we’re talking about in the first place. It’s but for the grace of God that we’re able to even marginally comprehend what it means to confess Jesus Christ as Lord.
Recovering a Missional Imagination
“Moralistic Therapeutic Deism is the unholy residue of a church that has lost its missional imagination. In stark contrast to institutions colonized by Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, missional communities do not exist primarily to perpetuate themselves.” [p. 104]
It’s a mighty bold thing to say the church exists for the world. And in a time of decline across the church, it’s a mighty risky thing to declare that you want to be a missional community whose sole goal is to continually give yourself away for others. Funny thing is, that’s precisely what Jesus did! One of the problems Dean notes is that we, as the Church, teach MTD to young people and while it’s understandable, it’s not very compelling. Handing on the faith to young people is not a matter of “giving them Jesus” [p. 105]. Jesus isn’t “ours” to own and he’s surely not ours to give to others. The presence of God in the lives of our youth is not dependent on us — God is already with them before we ever get there. This is why we believe baptism is a public confession to the presence of God’s grace already at work in the lives of people. It’s our job to help them see what’s already at work in them. And maybe in the process we’ll rediscover that same presence in ourselves.
Making disciples requires incarnation — not cultural adaptation. Being real and authentic about our faith is much more important than trying to communicate using whatever new, hip language tools are at our disposal. Christian communities throughout the ages share certain qualities: we learn from the same sacred writings, pray to the same Triune God, use bread, wine, and water in the same meaningful ways, and we claim to somehow, by the power of the Holy Spirit, be connected to these communities around the world and throughout the ages. Incarnation is not about being relevant as much as it’s about being real — being real about who God is, who we are, and who we long to be together.
This missional spirit — the incarnational presence of God among us — eventually drives us to be more concerned with sending people out rather than roping them in. I suppose that’s the true meaning of Great Commission’s first command to “Go…”
This is the liturgy for Holy Communion I’ve put together for Mulberry Street United Methodist Church to be used on July 1, 2012. The Invitation and Prayer of Confession follow the same pattern as the liturgy found on p. 12 of the UMH.
The Great Thanksgiving is largely based on a prayer found on the General Board of Disicpleship website here. The original was written by Hoyt Hickman and Taylor Watson Burton-Edwards [Copyright General Board of Discipleship. www.GBOD.org used by permission]. I’ve changed some language so that it flows more with the wording found on pp. 13-14 of The United Methodist Hymnal — in case people want it to feel more like “the way we’ve always done it.” You’ll notice it has the traditional wording leading into the prompts for congregational response.
Invitation to the Table/Confession and Pardon
Christ our Lord calls to his Table
all who hurt and are beaten down by the stresses of life;
all who love him and earnestly seek to live in peace with one another;
all who repent of their sin and long to follow the call of discipleship.
Therefore, let us confess our sin before God and one another.
we confess that we have failed to love you most of all.
We have failed to fully be your church in this time and place.
We have sinned against you and each another
by things we have done and things we have left undone.
We have not loved our neighbors
because we have failed to see the Christ in others.
Forgive us, we pray.
Free us to walk in the light of your grace,
and in full obedience to your will,
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Hear the good news:
Despite our brokenness, Christ died for us that we might have life;
that proves God’s gracious love toward us.
In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!
In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!
Glory to God! Amen
The Lord be with you.
And also with you.
Lift up your hearts.
We lift them up to the Lord.
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
It is right to give our thanks and praise.
Almighty God, Creator of the universe,
Ruler of all nations, Judge of all flesh,
you have placed us, your people, in this land made rich
with rivers, forests, mountains, and creatures great and small.
Here, you set before the founders and pioneers of this nation
an opportunity beyond measure
to build a realm of justice, peace, and freedom.
Here you continue to call your people,
freed from the law and baptized into Christ Jesus,
to be a sign of your reign in all the world.
For such a place, such a vision
and such a calling we give you thanks,
praying we may ever join afresh the dreams you set before us.
And so, with your people in every land on earth
and all the company of heaven
we praise your name and join in their unending hymn:
Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.
Above all we give you thanks
for the gift of your Son Jesus Christ,
who sends us into the world
to declare the good news of your kingdom
to every creature:
Justice to all peoples,
good news to the poor,
release for prisoners,
sight for the blind,
and freedom for the oppressed.
On the night before he was arrested and sentenced to death
by the authorities of his own nation,
he took bread, gave thanks, broke it, gave it to his disciples,
and said: “Take, eat; this is my body which is given for you.”
When supper was over,
he took the cup, gave thanks, gave it to his disciples,
and said, “Drink from this, all of you;
this is my blood of the covenant
poured out for you and for many,
for the forgiveness of sins.”
And so we remember again as we proclaim the mystery of faith.
Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.
We pour ourselves out before you in praise and thanksgiving,
a holy and living sacrifice in union with Christ’s offering for us.
Pour out your Spirit
on us and on these gifts of bread and wine.
Make Christ known to us in the breaking of this bread,
and the sharing of this cup.
Renew our fellowship in him,
that we may be for the world his body
poured out for the world
at this time in this nation,
and at that great banquet in the fullness of your new creation
where justice flows like rivers,
righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,
where none shall hunger or thirst,
neither shall they learn war anymore.
By him, with him, and in him,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all glory and honor is yours, almighty God,
now and ever. Amen.
“A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world and might even be more difficult to save” – C.S. Lewis [quoted on p. 25]
Trying to Be Relevant in a Culture of “Whatever-ism”
Dean reports an interesting indictment of the Church when she quotes the NSYR study where it says, “Most religious communities’ central problem is not teen rebellion but teenagers’ benign ‘whatever-ism’” (p.28). It seems as though a good number of American teenagers will attend church, participate in youth ministries, and maybe even go to Sunday School. What teenagers lack, this report shows, is a depth of knowledge of orthodox Christian doctrine and how that doctrine translates into religious practices. Further, teenagers by and large lack a basic working Christian language. It seems as though we’re doing a decent job of putting our kids into formative classes and activities but we’re not teaching them the faith language that would form them into new people.
Maybe problem comes from a compulsion the Church seems to have in striving to be relevant? We spend so much time wanting to relate to others in terms of the language of the larger culture (a good thing at times) that we forget our own unique language in the process. Transformation cannot happen unless new language is taught and learned. Otherwise the church remains little more than just another extension of the larger culture.
Moralistic Therapeutic Deism has little to do with God or a specific divine mission in the world. This false Christianity seeks to give us good self-esteem and solve all of our temporal problems. As Dean notes,
“It is a self-emolliating spirituality; its thrust is personal happiness and helping people treat each other nicely.” [p. 29]
Why is it that many teenagers practice such a watered-down form of spirituality? Frankly, they do it because this is what we’ve taught them in church. Moralistic Therapeutic Deism makes no claim to change lives. It’s built on a low commitment system where the highest ideals are to “make me happy” or “meet my needs.” This is very different from a faith that seeks to bend people’s lives into patterns of love and obedience to God through formative teaching and practice.
Relevance is an unattainable goal. It’s a goal concerned with the church accommodating society in order to keep a foothold in the culture. We should always be skeptical and question those who would push us to “be more relevant.” More times than not, it’s a quest that’s more misguided than we might think. As Dean observes,
“The church’s accommodating impulse does not stem from God’s call to us to share our lives with the stranger or to share God’s love with others. Instead, it grows our of our need as a church to be liked and approved.” [p. 34]
The Difference Between Nice and Holy
I’m not here to say that we shouldn’t teach our kids to be nice. In fact, we adults could use refresher courses on being nice. But I am saying as strongly as I can that “being nice” is not the ultimate purpose of being a follower of Jesus Christ. Religion has become the great umbrella we go to hide from the world under. Religion in America is built much more on a sense of loyalty and allegiance through personal choice than it is on identity and relationship. If our culture is built on a consumer mindset that we can get what we want through personal choice in the marketplace, then it’s no wonder that a growing number of people are finding religion to be unimportant. Religion built on a sense of identity doesn’t care much for personal choice — mainly because God chose us before we choose God. My favorite brand cannot claim my life at this level because I can always shop for a new brand. But a faith built on the idea that we know ourselves to belong to the One who made us and who loves us too much to lose us claims our lives in ways Apple or Nike never will.
Let’s consult our author one more time:
“Perhaps young people lack robust Christian identities because churches offer such a stripped-down version of Christianity that it no longer poses a viable alternative to imposter spiritualities like Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. If teenagers lack an articulate faith, maybe it is because the faith we show them is too spineless to merit much in the way of conversation. Maybe teenagers’ inability to talk about religion is not because the church inspires a faith too deep for words, but because the God-story that we tell is too vapid to merit more than a superficial vocabulary.” [p. 36]
I believe the great sin we need to identify and confess is that we as a Church have lost a sense of missional imagination. We’ve grown accustomed to believing that we’re here for ourselves. This in turn causes self-centered spirituality to grow and spread like a weed in a garden. We confuse Christianity with self-preservation — a sense of building ourselves and our buildings and our institutions up. And we forget that the witness of Jesus was one of self-giving — the call of disciples to lay down their lives, take up a cross, and follow the self-giving One wherever he may go.
Holiness is a word that implies justice, kindness, and humility before God (Micah 6:8). Dean reminds us this is what we mean when we say sanctification – a life conformed to the self-giving love of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh who came into the world to save (and not condemn) it. A call to holiness is much deeper than a call to just be nice. Holiness requires everything we are and it forces us to live in a community where the common pursuit is how to be holy in such a complex world.
The good news is not all teenagers belong to this cult of benign niceness. Many are committed Christians actively living our their faith daily. But these are set apart from their contemporaries by 4 main religious characteristics: a creed to believe, a community to belong to, a call to live out, and a hope to hold onto.
So ask yourself this simple question: When was the last time you heard these four things together at church?
When was the last time you heard of a real hope — one that’s more concerned with transformative faith than trying to simply put “biblical principles” on life’s problems? When was the last time you were invited into a community that breaks line of family, gender, or maybe even race in order to form the Body of Christ? When was the last time you were told you had a specific call on your life from the very One who created you? And when was the last time you heard words of hope that defies the logic of our self-centered worldviews?
Needless to say, this book is amazing!…
As much as I was enthused leaving Annual Conference here in South Georgia, I do have one regret: I wish I had made a motion from the floor to define discipleship for our annual conference. You see, I counted some 70 times that the phrase “making disciples for the transformation of the world” was mentioned in one form or another. But not once was that phrase defined or elaborated on. Much of our business set as its goal the “making of disciples” but we never defined discipleship clearly. My great concern is that we endorsed a great deal of business on the premise that we all understood and agreed on a basic definition of discipleship.
So I regret that I didn’t follow my gut and propose a motion that would do 3 things:
Whereas, We admit that the greatest issue facing The United Methodist Church is a lack of depth of discipleship; and
Whereas, the local church is the primary and most significant location for the formation of disciples of Jesus Christ according to paragraph 201 of The United Methodist Discipline (2008 ed.); and
Whereas, it is necessary that we define discipleship as it pertains to life in the life of our local churches in the South Georgia Annual Conference and in the transformation of the world;
Therefore, be it:
Resolved, that the primary focus of ministry, proclamation, and life in the local church should be the formation of disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world — all ministry should serve as a means to this end.
Resolved, that the primary of location for discipleship are the local church communities across our conference — any conference-led initiatives towards the goal of disciple formation should be focused on how best to achieve this goal at the level of the local church.
Resolved, that discipleship is the process of being formed in the ways of Jesus Christ as taught in Scriptures and expressed in acts of justice, mercy, worship, and devotion under the empowering guidance of the Holy Spirit — all teaching and practice of discipleship should meet this criteria and be emphasized that such formation and practice is meant to be lived out both personally and corporately.
We’ve just completed the 2012 edition of the South Georgia Annual Conference. The week promised some interesting material and potential for debate sprinkled within the annual slog through reports and business sessions. I was excited because my local church sent not 1 but 2 delegates under the age of 40 this year. With conference held in our town we felt it was a great opportunity to send a couple of younger, first-time delegates to experience and learn about the process of annual conference.
I’ll have a follow-up post with the perspective of 1 of our delegates who enjoyed his experience but questioned how effectively we used our time and prioritized the material we went over — but more on that later.
In the meantime, I want to lead with news of an unexpected hope I encountered over these last 3 days.
Could it be?…
I attended a luncheon for a group that I help lead. The roots of this group can be summed up by saying about 7-8 years ago, a tradition began where people chose between one of two breakfasts depending on what side of the liberal/conservative divide you found yourself on. Keep in mind, most of our clergy chose not to attend either gathering. But fairly or unfairly, these two groups seemed to embody the political and theological divide in our annual conference.
This year we decided to make a concerted effort to begin branding the group as more than group united by a single voice. We tried to reach out to those not only “in the middle” on various issues, but also from the “other” breakfast (i.e. the “others”). We brought a speaker down to discuss General Conference and hoped that at best we’d get a decent crowd and maybe a few new people. We ended up running out of food and had a good many people who had never attended the group’s gathering before.
You can imagine my amazement when I walked into the event and was greeted at the entrance by a man who has served 50 years in ministry and frankly is identified as a sort of representative of the “other” group. My jaw literally hit the floor [maybe it was just figuratively but it sure felt real]. We chatted and I decided to ask him when and where the “other” breakfast would be held. By golly, if he’s willing the come to my event, then it’s only fair I suck it up and attend the “other” gathering as an olive branch of peace and open-mindedness. Our luncheon was wonderful and except for a faulty sound system it went off without a hitch.
Now I had to face my inner prejudices and figure out how I’d bring myself to drive to the “other” gathering the next day now that I’d offered to go.
Surprised By Grace
The “other” gathering began at 7am and was being held at a church just around the corner from my house. I was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, it was close enough I really had no excuse to go. On the other hand, maybe I could skip it and no one would notice. I’d say I slept through my alarm or something.
I arrived at the church around 7:15am — a little late because I really did sleep through my alarm. But I was present nonetheless. With fear and trembling I entered the room and got in line for breakfast. To my surprise a few people I’d never met came up to me in line and said, “Hey, great luncheon yesterday!” What?!?! And then the man whose attendance the previous day took me by surprise came and welcomed me as though I’d been a member of the family my whole life. Here I was fighting every urge to just slink out the back door hoping no one would see me, and this man extends the hand of radical hospitality to me.
Note to self: Grace takes a surprising shape sometimes…
Did the weather reports say hell might freeze today?
Later on Tuesday Morning:
One of the major pieces of legislation before our annual conference was a report on the idea of reducing the number of districts in South Georgia. Currently we have 9 districts and last year a proposal was made to study the feasibility of reducing by 2 or 3. After a year of study and number crunching, we were split on what to do. The task force charged with studying the finances said it would be feasible to cut 2 or 3 districts. The Bishop and Cabinet resolved that due to the number of unanswered questions, we should simply retain the current number of 9 districts.
Let the debate begin…
An amendment was brought to the floor as a compromise. Essentially the amendment said we’d keep our current number of districts but work another year to answer the questions left unanswered by the previous year’s study. Now it was time to speak for and against the amendment.
It helps to know that the author of the amendment is the pastor of a large church and is a sort of poster child for what many consider a more liberal group in our conference. He spoke of compromise and spoke boldly.
One by one, persons stood at microphones voicing their opinions. The debate was tense but it never got ugly. Folks representing small rural churches, larger urban churches, theological liberals and conservatives, and different races all spoke together on a very important issues in our annual conference. Some agreed and others disagreed. I was struck both by the diversity of those who agreed with each other and the civility with which persons chose to respond. I happened to be sitting by the amendment’s author and my experience was capped off when our conversation was interrupted by the very same man who surprised me with grace earlier that morning. The two men chatted and found they supported one another. As he rose to get behind a mic, he looked at the amendment’s author — a man who represented a good many views opposite of his own — laughed and said, “Let’s see if this annual conference is ready for us to agree on something.”
What does this mean?
In a society that seems to thrive off of bitterly disagreeing with others, I saw a glimpse of a different sort of reality. After a General Conference that seemed to bring out the absolute worst in everyone — people on both sides of the political/theological divide — I saw brief glimpses of unity and I had hope. We’re not a perfect annual conference by any means. Lord knows we have our issues. We’ve got a lot of work yet to do. But as a young clergy person still learning the ropes of Annual Conference, I was filled with the hope that maybe, just maybe, we might actually learn to talk with each other and even listen. Despite all of the grind and stress that comes with Annual Conference I left hopeful. And dare I say it, my heart might have even felt strangely warm.