It was Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his classic The Cost of Discipleship, who wrote, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die" because it was Jesus himself who said, "Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it."
I think the case can be made that the vast majority of the reasons why the church is in the mess that it's in is because--as with so much else Jesus said--we, the supposed followers of Jesus Christ, have not taken him at his word. We have been unwilling to give up our lives, to die to this world, in order to live for him and his Kingdom. Which, among other things, may explain why the Sermon on the Mount may be among the most admired yet least practiced words ever uttered. Rather than making following Jesus the focus of our lives, we allow it to be a part of our lives (sometimes a large part of our lives, granted, but, nonetheless, only a part). Something we do as opposed to something we are.
I'm becoming ever-more mindful of this as I continue to discover just how hard it is to help lead a traditional/attractional congregation to embrace what it means to be missional/incarnational. Much of the difficulty is simply a consequence of how entrenched traditional/attractional thinking is among people who have been doing church one way for 50, 60, 70, 80 years. Part of it, too, is just the all-too-natural, all-too-understandable fear people have of change.
But I wonder if much of the difficulty of getting people to embrace missional isn't rooted in how we approach discipleship in general. It's standard-issue missional church rhetoric to say that becoming missional/incarnational is not a new strategy for church-growth, not a new program or ministry, not an updated, tricked-out repackaging of the Social Gospel. It is a way of life. As such, asking someone to embrace the idea of becoming a missional church is asking them to change the way they live--not just do church missionally, but live missionally. It is to say to them what Jesus says to all who wish to follow him: let go of an old way of life to live a new one. To call people to missional, in other words, is, in effect, to bid them come and die. And if we find that difficult to do in the context of following Jesus, how much more in the context of church.
From the standpoint of leadership, the consequences of this are as frightening as they are simple. You cannot talk or teach or cajole or threaten or coerce people to missional. You can only live them to missional. Which is to say, you can only lead them by the example of your own life. Which means the death--the dying to this world--starts with me.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Wrong Church? No--Wrong Gospel
Much thinking and reading of late (much of what follows I owe to the work, among others, of Dallas Willard and Leonard Hjalmarson) and I'm increasingly convinced: as much as we have a church problem, we have a Gospel problem.
The church piece we know well: traditional, attractional church don't work no more. Nor do denominational structures that reflect such a paradigm. What we haven't acknowledged nearly as much--and this surprises me now that I'm aware of it--is the extent to which our ecclesiastical challenges are rooted in a common understanding (more to the point, misunderstanding) of the Gospel.
Typically, the church has embraced one of two versions of the Gospel. By no means are they mutually exclusive, but one does tend to be privileged over the other.
The first is a Gospel of Atonement: in accepting Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, your sins are forgiven, you receive the gift of eternal life, and your salvation is assured. This understanding of the Gospel is primarily about the individual--an individual's relationship with Jesus Christ and an individual's salvation. Discipleship is less of an issue because the primary focus is on the profession of faith in Christ and forgiveness of sins (“I’m right with Jesus…why do I need discipleship?”). To the extent it is pursued, discipleship is seen as a primarily individual behavior done for the benefit of the individual. Not surprisingly, in this understanding of the Gospel, the purpose of evangelism is to win souls and make new Christians.
The second is a Gospel of the Kingdom: people can live now in the Kingdom of God, a vision of what life can and should be in all its dimensions and a way of life that can help bring it into reality. This understanding of the Gospel is primarily about others because, as Leonard Hjalmarson points out, the Kingdom of God is inherently relational (Kingdom implies relationship with the King, with fellow citizens, with the community in which you live, with standards of justice and mercy), missional (it propels us into mission in response to God’s call to be part of the Missio Dei and in the name of expanding the Kingdom) and monastic (it calls us to shared spiritual practices in community, such as worship, prayer, and reconciliation). Here, the purpose of evangelism is to make disciples--in line, obviously, with the Great Commission and the fact that, in the Gospels, Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God more than anything else.
It should not be news that the version of the Gospel a church embraces will be reflected in the structure, ministry, and assumptions of the church itself. The Gospel of Atonement will tend to result in a church focused on the needs of the individuals in the pews: ministries will be about self-development, worship will be focused on individual experience, the locus of church life will primarily be the church building, and mission and outreach will be a personal prerogative. In other words, a Gospel of Atonement will pretty much result in a traditional, attractional church.
A Gospel of the Kingdom of God, on the other hand, focused on others, will tend to result in a church focused on the community and growth of the Kingdom: ministries and worship will reflect an over-arching concern for the Missio Dei, the locus of church life will be outside the church building, and mission and outreach will be the organizing principle of all the church does. A Gospel of the Kingdom of God, therefore, will pretty much result in a missional/incarnational church.
Clearly, I'm generalizing. Exceptions can be found. But there is, I believe, a fundamental truth at work here, and it has great significance for the missional/incarnational paradigm. Any church wishing to be a missional/incarnational church would be well-served by first making sure everyone involved understands and embraces a Kingdom of God Gospel. I'd even go so far as to say it's a necessary first step, and that's coming from a pastor helping to lead a church down the road to missional that didn't get the Gospel straight first. In retrospect, I'm realizing how different (dare I say easier?) the journey thus far would've been had we taught the congregation a Gospel of the Kingdom of God to begin with. In that case, all this change wouldn't be in service to something new and untried (what the heck is missional anyway?) but in service to what Jesus pretty clearly preached is God's intent for God's people and God's church.
If you die tonight, where will you go? It's the favorite evangelical question. It's also the wrong one. The right question is, If you don't die tonight, what are you going to do tomorrow? And the right answer is, “Trust Jesus with all of my life because the Kingdom is now.”
The church piece we know well: traditional, attractional church don't work no more. Nor do denominational structures that reflect such a paradigm. What we haven't acknowledged nearly as much--and this surprises me now that I'm aware of it--is the extent to which our ecclesiastical challenges are rooted in a common understanding (more to the point, misunderstanding) of the Gospel.
Typically, the church has embraced one of two versions of the Gospel. By no means are they mutually exclusive, but one does tend to be privileged over the other.
The first is a Gospel of Atonement: in accepting Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, your sins are forgiven, you receive the gift of eternal life, and your salvation is assured. This understanding of the Gospel is primarily about the individual--an individual's relationship with Jesus Christ and an individual's salvation. Discipleship is less of an issue because the primary focus is on the profession of faith in Christ and forgiveness of sins (“I’m right with Jesus…why do I need discipleship?”). To the extent it is pursued, discipleship is seen as a primarily individual behavior done for the benefit of the individual. Not surprisingly, in this understanding of the Gospel, the purpose of evangelism is to win souls and make new Christians.
The second is a Gospel of the Kingdom: people can live now in the Kingdom of God, a vision of what life can and should be in all its dimensions and a way of life that can help bring it into reality. This understanding of the Gospel is primarily about others because, as Leonard Hjalmarson points out, the Kingdom of God is inherently relational (Kingdom implies relationship with the King, with fellow citizens, with the community in which you live, with standards of justice and mercy), missional (it propels us into mission in response to God’s call to be part of the Missio Dei and in the name of expanding the Kingdom) and monastic (it calls us to shared spiritual practices in community, such as worship, prayer, and reconciliation). Here, the purpose of evangelism is to make disciples--in line, obviously, with the Great Commission and the fact that, in the Gospels, Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God more than anything else.
It should not be news that the version of the Gospel a church embraces will be reflected in the structure, ministry, and assumptions of the church itself. The Gospel of Atonement will tend to result in a church focused on the needs of the individuals in the pews: ministries will be about self-development, worship will be focused on individual experience, the locus of church life will primarily be the church building, and mission and outreach will be a personal prerogative. In other words, a Gospel of Atonement will pretty much result in a traditional, attractional church.
A Gospel of the Kingdom of God, on the other hand, focused on others, will tend to result in a church focused on the community and growth of the Kingdom: ministries and worship will reflect an over-arching concern for the Missio Dei, the locus of church life will be outside the church building, and mission and outreach will be the organizing principle of all the church does. A Gospel of the Kingdom of God, therefore, will pretty much result in a missional/incarnational church.
Clearly, I'm generalizing. Exceptions can be found. But there is, I believe, a fundamental truth at work here, and it has great significance for the missional/incarnational paradigm. Any church wishing to be a missional/incarnational church would be well-served by first making sure everyone involved understands and embraces a Kingdom of God Gospel. I'd even go so far as to say it's a necessary first step, and that's coming from a pastor helping to lead a church down the road to missional that didn't get the Gospel straight first. In retrospect, I'm realizing how different (dare I say easier?) the journey thus far would've been had we taught the congregation a Gospel of the Kingdom of God to begin with. In that case, all this change wouldn't be in service to something new and untried (what the heck is missional anyway?) but in service to what Jesus pretty clearly preached is God's intent for God's people and God's church.
If you die tonight, where will you go? It's the favorite evangelical question. It's also the wrong one. The right question is, If you don't die tonight, what are you going to do tomorrow? And the right answer is, “Trust Jesus with all of my life because the Kingdom is now.”
Monday, July 8, 2013
I Volunteer--I'm Missional!
I had a church member come to me not long ago and say, "Enough of the missional stuff already. I get it. It's time to move on. Tell me something new." You've got it?, I asked. "Yeh," she replied. "A lot of people in this church spend a lot of hours volunteering. We understand about being missional."
A number of responses came to mind at that moment. But the look on her face, the tone of her voice...my pastoral spidey senses told me to smile, say thank you for letting me know how you feel--and no more. So that's what I did. But as much as I might disagree with her, I understood where her comment came from, and it had less to do with her understanding of missional than with what I surmise to be her understanding of the Gospel.
A consequence of Christendom's domestication of the Gospel is making it first and foremost about personal salvation. It is about that, of course. The Gospel is the promise of the restoration of right relationship between Creator and created and the promise, to those who profess the Lordship of Christ, of eternal life.
But that's not all it is--not, I'd argue, even the half of it.
The Gospel is also about the Kingdom of God, about God's will being done on earth, among the living, before the immortal disposition of ones' mortal remains even becomes an issue. It's about Jesus' radical vision of life as God intends life to be right here, right now, for all God's children. As much as the Gospel is about atonement, in other words, it is about the existential realities of life lived day-in and day-out in a broken world.
But when the Gospel is understood primarily in terms of individual salvation, then the missional impulse inherent in the Kingdom of God becomes expressed as add-on behaviors, adjuncts to what the Gospel is really about, which is saving souls. Behaviors like volunteering--an important, eminently worthwhile thing to do--because they are an expression of outreach, become evidence that one is "missional." But that's rather like dancing a polka and claiming you're German. Missional is not something you do. It's something you are. It isn't a set of behaviors or way of talking that you embrace. It is an epistemology, if you will--a way of understanding what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ and fundamentally reordering and restructuring every area of your life accordingly. It is inherently relational, inherently other-centered, inherently sacrificial, because when Jesus explained what it meant to follow him, he made it clear: we are to die to this world to live for him and the Kingdom, which is to say for others...to pick up our cross and follow.
To the extent the Gospel is about us as individuals, it is in service to something much bigger than any one person: it is in service to the Kingdom.
The because-I-volunteer-in-the-community-I'm-missional church member is part of the ongoing challenge of helping lead a church from traditional to missional/incarnational: striking a balance between the need to keep a missional/incarnational paradigm in front of the congregation on a regular basis with the need to avoid annoying those in the congregation who think they "get it" to the point that they tune-out altogether.
But that's a topic for an upcoming post.
A number of responses came to mind at that moment. But the look on her face, the tone of her voice...my pastoral spidey senses told me to smile, say thank you for letting me know how you feel--and no more. So that's what I did. But as much as I might disagree with her, I understood where her comment came from, and it had less to do with her understanding of missional than with what I surmise to be her understanding of the Gospel.
A consequence of Christendom's domestication of the Gospel is making it first and foremost about personal salvation. It is about that, of course. The Gospel is the promise of the restoration of right relationship between Creator and created and the promise, to those who profess the Lordship of Christ, of eternal life.
But that's not all it is--not, I'd argue, even the half of it.
The Gospel is also about the Kingdom of God, about God's will being done on earth, among the living, before the immortal disposition of ones' mortal remains even becomes an issue. It's about Jesus' radical vision of life as God intends life to be right here, right now, for all God's children. As much as the Gospel is about atonement, in other words, it is about the existential realities of life lived day-in and day-out in a broken world.
But when the Gospel is understood primarily in terms of individual salvation, then the missional impulse inherent in the Kingdom of God becomes expressed as add-on behaviors, adjuncts to what the Gospel is really about, which is saving souls. Behaviors like volunteering--an important, eminently worthwhile thing to do--because they are an expression of outreach, become evidence that one is "missional." But that's rather like dancing a polka and claiming you're German. Missional is not something you do. It's something you are. It isn't a set of behaviors or way of talking that you embrace. It is an epistemology, if you will--a way of understanding what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ and fundamentally reordering and restructuring every area of your life accordingly. It is inherently relational, inherently other-centered, inherently sacrificial, because when Jesus explained what it meant to follow him, he made it clear: we are to die to this world to live for him and the Kingdom, which is to say for others...to pick up our cross and follow.
To the extent the Gospel is about us as individuals, it is in service to something much bigger than any one person: it is in service to the Kingdom.
The because-I-volunteer-in-the-community-I'm-missional church member is part of the ongoing challenge of helping lead a church from traditional to missional/incarnational: striking a balance between the need to keep a missional/incarnational paradigm in front of the congregation on a regular basis with the need to avoid annoying those in the congregation who think they "get it" to the point that they tune-out altogether.
But that's a topic for an upcoming post.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Discipleship Isn't a Program
In the ongoing missional church conversation, much is said about the necessity of discipleship. In fact, one of the leading voices in the conversation--Mike Breen--goes so far as to say that in the absence of having a system in place that produces and reproduces disciples, the missional movement, like so many church movements before it, will fail.
Maybe.
Predictions of failure aside, though, there is no doubt that creating disciples is a (perhaps the) critical issue. It's an easy enough conclusion to draw from Jesus himself--go forth and make disciples, he said, and I will build the church. Discipleship is job one.
This isn't a challenge peculiar to missional/incarnational churches, however. It's a challenge faced by all churches of all times in all places. And it's a challenge rooted, first, in Christendom's substitution of church for Kingdom and, second, in the fact that we've thoroughly domesticated the Gospel in order to control it. Domesticated it in the sense that the church has taken what is, in truth, a call to a very radical, counter-cultural way of living and emasculated it (forgive the sexist overtones) into a sappy, syrupy behavioral to-do list of suggested behaviors (often masquerading as "spiritual disciplines") from which we pick and choose those we can integrate into our daily lives with minimal discomfort and upset.
No wonder, then, that our understanding of disciples and discipleship is...well, let's just say it's something that any close reading of the Gospels and Acts makes clear is a good deal less than Jesus intended. Which goes a long way towards explaining why the church, on so many fronts, is in the mess it's in today (WorldVision's Richard Stearns nails this).
So: the challenge for all churches, missional or otherwise, is to discern and teach biblical, Jesus-driven discipleship. Given the plethora of off-the-shelf, out-of-the-box discipleship programs available, it shouldn't be so. Except that that's precisely the problem: we approach discipleship as a program. Discipleship isn't a program. It's a way of life. It isn't a series of books or classes, a 12-step program or a seminar. It isn't a set of behaviors that can be integrated into our already-living daily lives. Our worldview cannot shape our discipleship. Our discipleship must shape our worldview.
This is not to say behaviors aren't important. Paul makes that clear enough. Nor is it to say that any efforts invested in learning more about discipleship are wasted. It's simply to say that we can't get there from here. Centuries of domesticated Gospel and discipleship-as-program have gotten us where? Discipleship is what Jesus has always told us it is: we die to ourselves (and to the world, with all that means) to live for Him. Reading Scripture and studying and practicing spiritual disciplines can be aids to the journey but they cannot be the journey itself.
The day we quit talking about programming and polity and ministries and mission--quit, in fact, talking about church because, after all, Jesus himself promised us that he'd take care of that--and, day-in-, day-out begin living for Christ and the Kingdom, is the day we truly begin to become disciples. That, in itself, won't immediately solve the challenge of producing disciples who produce disciples, but it is, I believe, the absolutely necessary pre-condition for such producing and reproducing to begin.
Maybe.
Predictions of failure aside, though, there is no doubt that creating disciples is a (perhaps the) critical issue. It's an easy enough conclusion to draw from Jesus himself--go forth and make disciples, he said, and I will build the church. Discipleship is job one.
This isn't a challenge peculiar to missional/incarnational churches, however. It's a challenge faced by all churches of all times in all places. And it's a challenge rooted, first, in Christendom's substitution of church for Kingdom and, second, in the fact that we've thoroughly domesticated the Gospel in order to control it. Domesticated it in the sense that the church has taken what is, in truth, a call to a very radical, counter-cultural way of living and emasculated it (forgive the sexist overtones) into a sappy, syrupy behavioral to-do list of suggested behaviors (often masquerading as "spiritual disciplines") from which we pick and choose those we can integrate into our daily lives with minimal discomfort and upset.
No wonder, then, that our understanding of disciples and discipleship is...well, let's just say it's something that any close reading of the Gospels and Acts makes clear is a good deal less than Jesus intended. Which goes a long way towards explaining why the church, on so many fronts, is in the mess it's in today (WorldVision's Richard Stearns nails this).
So: the challenge for all churches, missional or otherwise, is to discern and teach biblical, Jesus-driven discipleship. Given the plethora of off-the-shelf, out-of-the-box discipleship programs available, it shouldn't be so. Except that that's precisely the problem: we approach discipleship as a program. Discipleship isn't a program. It's a way of life. It isn't a series of books or classes, a 12-step program or a seminar. It isn't a set of behaviors that can be integrated into our already-living daily lives. Our worldview cannot shape our discipleship. Our discipleship must shape our worldview.
This is not to say behaviors aren't important. Paul makes that clear enough. Nor is it to say that any efforts invested in learning more about discipleship are wasted. It's simply to say that we can't get there from here. Centuries of domesticated Gospel and discipleship-as-program have gotten us where? Discipleship is what Jesus has always told us it is: we die to ourselves (and to the world, with all that means) to live for Him. Reading Scripture and studying and practicing spiritual disciplines can be aids to the journey but they cannot be the journey itself.
The day we quit talking about programming and polity and ministries and mission--quit, in fact, talking about church because, after all, Jesus himself promised us that he'd take care of that--and, day-in-, day-out begin living for Christ and the Kingdom, is the day we truly begin to become disciples. That, in itself, won't immediately solve the challenge of producing disciples who produce disciples, but it is, I believe, the absolutely necessary pre-condition for such producing and reproducing to begin.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
If You Want People to Follow You, They Have to Know You Care
More than one book has been penned (well, key-stroked) about Leadership Principles According to Jesus. I've never been entirely comfortable with the everything-you-need-to-know-you-can-find-in-Scripture school of Christianity. Most of what you need to know, certainly. All the really important stuff you need to know, absolutely. But everything? Biblical truth transcends time and place, but I'm not sure even Jesus would claim that the Gospel narratives of his earthly ministry provide a leadership textbook for the 21st century.
But...even if Jesus doesn't tell us everything, that doesn't mean we shouldn't practice everything Jesus tells us. I'm thinking of one Leadership Principle in particular: If you want people to follow you, they have to know you care about them.
Jesus calls his disciples, they drop literally everything to follow him. Sure this is Jesus we're talking about. Being the Messiah does give your call street cred that your average run-of-the-mill ministry opportunity doesn't have. And Jesus undoubtedly had a charisma (fully human yet fully divine) that pretty much immediately banished any second thoughts his disciples had about answering the call. But, for all that, Jesus was relentless in communicating through words and actions not only that he cared for those who followed him, not only did he love them, but he was willing to die for them--even when they had no idea what he was talking about when he spoke of what awaited him on that hill outside Jerusalem.
"A new commandment I give you...love one another as I have loved you." That would've made no sense apart from Jesus' manifold efforts at compassion and caring for his followers...caring that went way beyond saying, "I care about you" or "I love you," though Jesus undoubtedly said that often enough. Jesus cared enough about his followers to invest time in them, to teach them (over and over in the face of their thick-headedness), to warn them, to heal them, to tell them the truth that following him would mean rejection and suffering and daily shouldering their own cross. And for all who said, "this is too hard," and turned back, we know of the relative handful who stayed and followed and, ultimately, understood...a handful that grew into a few hundred, a few thousand, a few million, tens of millions, hundreds of millions. And that relative handful: they followed because Jesus was the Messiah, was charismatic, because he was the Way to life. But they followed, too--in fact, until they did figure him out, probably followed mostly because--Jesus cared about them in profound and extraordinary ways, and they knew it.
I don't know anybody (OK, hardly anybody) who answers the call to ministry for the paycheck. Most churches don't have the resources to pay people enough to do the work. It's too hard, too costly. People do the work because they are called and they can't not do it. And they follow a leader because they buy into the vision and believe in the mission but, most of all, I think, because they know the leader cares about them. In my experience, at least, people will not follow someone they think doesn't care about them no matter how compelling the vision or urgent the mission. They don't expect the leader to die for them, but they do expect the leader, through words and actions to say to them in healthy, appropriate ways, I care about you.
But...even if Jesus doesn't tell us everything, that doesn't mean we shouldn't practice everything Jesus tells us. I'm thinking of one Leadership Principle in particular: If you want people to follow you, they have to know you care about them.
Jesus calls his disciples, they drop literally everything to follow him. Sure this is Jesus we're talking about. Being the Messiah does give your call street cred that your average run-of-the-mill ministry opportunity doesn't have. And Jesus undoubtedly had a charisma (fully human yet fully divine) that pretty much immediately banished any second thoughts his disciples had about answering the call. But, for all that, Jesus was relentless in communicating through words and actions not only that he cared for those who followed him, not only did he love them, but he was willing to die for them--even when they had no idea what he was talking about when he spoke of what awaited him on that hill outside Jerusalem.
"A new commandment I give you...love one another as I have loved you." That would've made no sense apart from Jesus' manifold efforts at compassion and caring for his followers...caring that went way beyond saying, "I care about you" or "I love you," though Jesus undoubtedly said that often enough. Jesus cared enough about his followers to invest time in them, to teach them (over and over in the face of their thick-headedness), to warn them, to heal them, to tell them the truth that following him would mean rejection and suffering and daily shouldering their own cross. And for all who said, "this is too hard," and turned back, we know of the relative handful who stayed and followed and, ultimately, understood...a handful that grew into a few hundred, a few thousand, a few million, tens of millions, hundreds of millions. And that relative handful: they followed because Jesus was the Messiah, was charismatic, because he was the Way to life. But they followed, too--in fact, until they did figure him out, probably followed mostly because--Jesus cared about them in profound and extraordinary ways, and they knew it.
I don't know anybody (OK, hardly anybody) who answers the call to ministry for the paycheck. Most churches don't have the resources to pay people enough to do the work. It's too hard, too costly. People do the work because they are called and they can't not do it. And they follow a leader because they buy into the vision and believe in the mission but, most of all, I think, because they know the leader cares about them. In my experience, at least, people will not follow someone they think doesn't care about them no matter how compelling the vision or urgent the mission. They don't expect the leader to die for them, but they do expect the leader, through words and actions to say to them in healthy, appropriate ways, I care about you.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Jesus and the "C" Word
There is that dreaded "c" word: change. And the reality that change--these days, exponential change--is the norm. And the reality that the church is not immune. And the reality that as the church (especially traditional mainline congregations) now comes to grips with what that change must be, comes to grips that the choice not to change is in fact no choice at all, church leaders necessarily become change agents.
If change ain't always pretty, being a change agent can be downright butt-ugly.
Change is hard. Leading change harder still. I've been doing a lot of reading in Luke lately, though, and--duh--have been smacked in the face again and again that the ultimate change agent was Jesus Christ. In the sense that we can divide human history into pre- and post-Jesus, yes. In terms of redemption and salvation, of being restored to right relationship with the Creator, absolutely. In preaching Kingdom ethics that turn the ways of the world on their collective head, of course.
But Jesus was the ultimate change agent in another way as well--a way that speaks directly to the challenge of leading change in the mainline church. Jesus' sabbath-was-made-for-man-man-wasn't-made-for-the-sabbath message in all its manifestations pitted him squarely against an understanding of being church as entrenched, codified, and stratified as any mainline denomination today, posing a threat so severe the only response Church People of the day could muster was kill him.
And in the face of that, Jesus' response was instructive:
If change ain't always pretty, being a change agent can be downright butt-ugly.
Change is hard. Leading change harder still. I've been doing a lot of reading in Luke lately, though, and--duh--have been smacked in the face again and again that the ultimate change agent was Jesus Christ. In the sense that we can divide human history into pre- and post-Jesus, yes. In terms of redemption and salvation, of being restored to right relationship with the Creator, absolutely. In preaching Kingdom ethics that turn the ways of the world on their collective head, of course.
But Jesus was the ultimate change agent in another way as well--a way that speaks directly to the challenge of leading change in the mainline church. Jesus' sabbath-was-made-for-man-man-wasn't-made-for-the-sabbath message in all its manifestations pitted him squarely against an understanding of being church as entrenched, codified, and stratified as any mainline denomination today, posing a threat so severe the only response Church People of the day could muster was kill him.
And in the face of that, Jesus' response was instructive:
- remain faithful to the call God had placed on his life
- speak the truth in love
- have compassion for those who didn't get it
- focus the majority of his personal attention on discipling those who did
In all the resistance to change I've ever encountered, I'm aware of no plots to kill me--yet. But Jesus' response strikes me as the template for helping to lead change. Anywhere, but especially in the church. Faithfulness. Truth. Compassion. Focus.
What does your experience leading change tell you about Jesus' experience leading change?
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Rethinking the Dog and Pony Show
The connective tissue is ripping.
Many mainline denomination congregations think "connectional," as in "connectional church," as in we are not stand-alone congregations but, collectively, part of a bigger body. And in said bigger body--the so-called "middle judicatories" which, for Presbyterians, are synods and presbyteries--we are called to do much of our work. What happens, then, when such connective tissue, pulled apart, no longer holds?
It's a question being asked across denominations. In the case of the presbytery to which I and the church I pastor belong, the tissue is ripping rapidly. The three largest congregations in the presbytery are all withholding financial support of the presbytery itself while they discern whether or not to remain in the denomination. These three, between them, account for 40% of the presbytery budget. The presbytery can't withstand a 40% cut in revenue and remain the kind of presbytery it's been. The presbytery exec (seeing the handwriting on the wall?) has resigned. Remaining churches are scrambling.
Middle judicatories have important work to do. Indeed, in the Presbyterian Church (USA), much of the real power in the denomination resides in presbyteries. So ripping here is painful.
But it also can be rejuvenating. If, as I believe, Christian churches are being called to a new Reformation, leaving Christendom behind for a renewed embrace of the Missio Dei, of Christ and his kingdom, then the recasting of traditional, attractional church in missional/incarnational forms necessarily must extend to things like synods and presbyteries. In other words, we have an incredible opportunity to re-think the role of middle judicatories, returning them to what they were always intended be--agents for facilitating ministry, mission, and outreach.
With that in mind, what follows are some suggestions for changing presbyteries. I'm thinking in terms of the Presbyterian church because that's where I hang my hat. Change the nomenclature, though, and I suspect the suggestions can work elsewhere...or at least spark some conversation.
Many mainline denomination congregations think "connectional," as in "connectional church," as in we are not stand-alone congregations but, collectively, part of a bigger body. And in said bigger body--the so-called "middle judicatories" which, for Presbyterians, are synods and presbyteries--we are called to do much of our work. What happens, then, when such connective tissue, pulled apart, no longer holds?
It's a question being asked across denominations. In the case of the presbytery to which I and the church I pastor belong, the tissue is ripping rapidly. The three largest congregations in the presbytery are all withholding financial support of the presbytery itself while they discern whether or not to remain in the denomination. These three, between them, account for 40% of the presbytery budget. The presbytery can't withstand a 40% cut in revenue and remain the kind of presbytery it's been. The presbytery exec (seeing the handwriting on the wall?) has resigned. Remaining churches are scrambling.
Middle judicatories have important work to do. Indeed, in the Presbyterian Church (USA), much of the real power in the denomination resides in presbyteries. So ripping here is painful.
But it also can be rejuvenating. If, as I believe, Christian churches are being called to a new Reformation, leaving Christendom behind for a renewed embrace of the Missio Dei, of Christ and his kingdom, then the recasting of traditional, attractional church in missional/incarnational forms necessarily must extend to things like synods and presbyteries. In other words, we have an incredible opportunity to re-think the role of middle judicatories, returning them to what they were always intended be--agents for facilitating ministry, mission, and outreach.
With that in mind, what follows are some suggestions for changing presbyteries. I'm thinking in terms of the Presbyterian church because that's where I hang my hat. Change the nomenclature, though, and I suspect the suggestions can work elsewhere...or at least spark some conversation.
- Refocus presbyteries on building the Kingdom, not maintaining the presbytery. Put another way, our first allegiance is to Jesus Christ, not an administrative structure. Many presbyteries are top-heavy with committees and policies which exist primarily to maintain the presbytery. So...
- Limit presbytery committees to only those doing work only the presbytery can do. In the PCUSA, that would mean the Committee on Ministry, Committee on Preparation for Ministry, and Mission (understood as connecting congregations to do mission together that congregations cannot do alone). This would then allow us to...
- Limit presbytery meetings in quantity and duration. The presbytery of which I'm a member meets four times a year. That's nuts. Twice a year is enough, three times at most. And keep the meetings to three hours. Multinational corporations are run via meetings shorter than that--why not presbyteries? Partly this is good stewardship of time and resources. Forbid the dog-and-pony shows of every committee and ministry in the presbytery getting up and reading what's in their written reports. And partly it's common sense: meet twice a year for three hours of solid accomplishments, attendance (and participation) at meetings will go up. Guaranteed.
- Presbyteries should be agents of change as much as agents of preservation. Presbyteries have the responsibility to take care of business and much of that business involves preserving and maintaining approaches to church rooted in tradition. But as church membership statistics constantly remind us, we must change. Change is scary and we frequently don't know how to do it. There is no entity better situated to bring frightened congregations together to discern and facilitate change than presbyteries.
What suggestions would you make from your own experience with middle judicatories?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 7: Kingdom-Focused
Where’s your focus?
If life is going to be something more than a go-through-the-motions, tread-water, maintain-a-daily-existence kind of endeavor, it has to have a focus. And the focus itself has to be the consequence of intentional choice. True enough: choosing not to have a focus—I’ll just continue to go through the motions, thank you very much—is a focus…of sorts. But there should be more to life than just living. There should be meaning. And meaning requires focus.
That said, you can focus your life in all sorts of ways, on all kinds of things—collectively, referred to as “things of this world.” It’s what the world teaches: focus on money, job, status, stuff. It’s what I meant when I wrote about live small, the very first of the discipleship practices. And let’s be clear: money, status, and stuff are not necessarily bad things to focus on providing such focus is in service to something bigger than ourselves…providing, that is, money, status, and stuff are not the primary, the most important focus of our lives. Discipleship needn’t be a call to scarcity.
Following Jesus—if we’re really to take this seriously—demands that the primary, most important focus of our lives is the Kingdom. Not the church. The Kingdom. Which is to say that the focus of our lives is to be living in such a way that what we do and who we are bears witness to the values and ethics and understandings God desires for all God’s children. That’s the point of all these discipleship practices, to direct us toward living not for a paycheck or a party but for something bigger, something, if you will, higher. The higher purposes of the Kingdom.
What, exactly, are the higher purposes of the Kingdom? Let me suggest five:
• Lordship of Christ—acknowledging that because Jesus is over all things, we are to follow Jesus in all things; we cannot be what we cannot see so, in knowing the life of Jesus, we know what it means to be a follower of Jesus
• love of God, love of neighbor—“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength” Scripture tells us, to which Jesus added, “And your neighbor as yourself,” summarizing what is most important for us to do
• humility—it’s not about you because you don’t belong to you, you belong to Jesus who bought you at a price and calls you to be a vehicle by which others can come to know the love of Christ
• mercy—in a broken world, reaching out to and coming along side people to aid them in their suffering
• justice—working in the ways of Jesus to bring about the love of Jesus, that the shalom God desires for all people can be manifest
It’s no coincidence that, one way or another, each of the discipleship practices I’ve written about are implicit in these higher purposes of the Kingdom because the goal of discipleship is a Kingdom-focused life.
Some Scripture: Deuteronomy 6:5
Matthew 22:34-40
Philippians 2:6-11
If life is going to be something more than a go-through-the-motions, tread-water, maintain-a-daily-existence kind of endeavor, it has to have a focus. And the focus itself has to be the consequence of intentional choice. True enough: choosing not to have a focus—I’ll just continue to go through the motions, thank you very much—is a focus…of sorts. But there should be more to life than just living. There should be meaning. And meaning requires focus.
That said, you can focus your life in all sorts of ways, on all kinds of things—collectively, referred to as “things of this world.” It’s what the world teaches: focus on money, job, status, stuff. It’s what I meant when I wrote about live small, the very first of the discipleship practices. And let’s be clear: money, status, and stuff are not necessarily bad things to focus on providing such focus is in service to something bigger than ourselves…providing, that is, money, status, and stuff are not the primary, the most important focus of our lives. Discipleship needn’t be a call to scarcity.
Following Jesus—if we’re really to take this seriously—demands that the primary, most important focus of our lives is the Kingdom. Not the church. The Kingdom. Which is to say that the focus of our lives is to be living in such a way that what we do and who we are bears witness to the values and ethics and understandings God desires for all God’s children. That’s the point of all these discipleship practices, to direct us toward living not for a paycheck or a party but for something bigger, something, if you will, higher. The higher purposes of the Kingdom.
What, exactly, are the higher purposes of the Kingdom? Let me suggest five:
• Lordship of Christ—acknowledging that because Jesus is over all things, we are to follow Jesus in all things; we cannot be what we cannot see so, in knowing the life of Jesus, we know what it means to be a follower of Jesus
• love of God, love of neighbor—“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength” Scripture tells us, to which Jesus added, “And your neighbor as yourself,” summarizing what is most important for us to do
• humility—it’s not about you because you don’t belong to you, you belong to Jesus who bought you at a price and calls you to be a vehicle by which others can come to know the love of Christ
• mercy—in a broken world, reaching out to and coming along side people to aid them in their suffering
• justice—working in the ways of Jesus to bring about the love of Jesus, that the shalom God desires for all people can be manifest
It’s no coincidence that, one way or another, each of the discipleship practices I’ve written about are implicit in these higher purposes of the Kingdom because the goal of discipleship is a Kingdom-focused life.
Some Scripture: Deuteronomy 6:5
Matthew 22:34-40
Philippians 2:6-11
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 6: Worship
As with prayer, we tend to make worship difficult. And, as with prayer, it isn’t. Or shouldn’t be.
We think worship we tend to think sanctuary and liturgy and pastors or priests, as if worship can only be done rightly in special places, in special ways, led by special people. There’s no doubt that services of worship, organized according to liturgies that include confessions and prayers and hymns and sacraments that we know and have meaning, held in sacred places set apart for such a purpose and led by people who, through their training and insight, make the services meaningful in ways they otherwise might not be, are a blessing.
Yet it’s also true that one person, alone, anywhere, anytime can worship God. Because it isn’t the time or the place or the leadership that makes worship. It’s the presence of Jesus Christ. And as Scripture itself reminds us in stories of people worshiping in tents and caves and prisons and mountaintops, Jesus is everywhere.
Wherever, whenever, however we proactively acknowledge we are in Christ’s presence to worship, certain basic realities of worship don’t change:
• In worship, we acknowledge the presence of God in the world and in our lives. This, in fact, is one of the most important professions we can make.
• In worship we are nurtured and renewed by the Word, the Sacraments, by prayer and the opportunity to give thanks. Indeed, most worship is an act of thanksgiving to the God who gives and sustains our lives.
• In worship we are reminded, even when we worship alone, that we are members of a much larger community—followers of Jesus who are doing the best they can to follow faithfully. And for all the gifts of worshiping alone, there is a greater gift of the synergy that arises when worshiping with others.
• In worship we are renewed to be sent out into the world as ambassadors of Christ. As with so much else when we follow Jesus, worship, for all its gifts to us as individuals, is always in service to something bigger than ourselves.
Some Scripture: Exodus 27:21
Acts 16:25
We think worship we tend to think sanctuary and liturgy and pastors or priests, as if worship can only be done rightly in special places, in special ways, led by special people. There’s no doubt that services of worship, organized according to liturgies that include confessions and prayers and hymns and sacraments that we know and have meaning, held in sacred places set apart for such a purpose and led by people who, through their training and insight, make the services meaningful in ways they otherwise might not be, are a blessing.
Yet it’s also true that one person, alone, anywhere, anytime can worship God. Because it isn’t the time or the place or the leadership that makes worship. It’s the presence of Jesus Christ. And as Scripture itself reminds us in stories of people worshiping in tents and caves and prisons and mountaintops, Jesus is everywhere.
Wherever, whenever, however we proactively acknowledge we are in Christ’s presence to worship, certain basic realities of worship don’t change:
• In worship, we acknowledge the presence of God in the world and in our lives. This, in fact, is one of the most important professions we can make.
• In worship we are nurtured and renewed by the Word, the Sacraments, by prayer and the opportunity to give thanks. Indeed, most worship is an act of thanksgiving to the God who gives and sustains our lives.
• In worship we are reminded, even when we worship alone, that we are members of a much larger community—followers of Jesus who are doing the best they can to follow faithfully. And for all the gifts of worshiping alone, there is a greater gift of the synergy that arises when worshiping with others.
• In worship we are renewed to be sent out into the world as ambassadors of Christ. As with so much else when we follow Jesus, worship, for all its gifts to us as individuals, is always in service to something bigger than ourselves.
Some Scripture: Exodus 27:21
Acts 16:25
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 5: Prayer
We make prayer so difficult. It isn’t. Really.
But, first, we have to get past the idea that proper prayer means saying the proper words in the proper way at the proper time, otherwise God won’t listen. Prayer, at its most basic, is simply talking and listening to God, no more, no less.
Consider this: a God who, by definition, is all-knowing, already knows what’s in our hearts and minds. We don’t have to give voice to our prayers for God to hear them. Which means that “proper” doesn’t enter into it: God will hear our prayers however, wherever, whenever they’re said. I’d even go so far as to say that prayer is less important for what we say and how we say it than it is for what the act of praying says about our faith—that we acknowledge God as the source of our help and salvation, that we turn to and trust in God above all others (including ourselves), that we recognize a God still active in the world is, through the work and power of the Holy Spirit, active in our lives, using for good whatever befalls us.
None of which is to say that we should pray carelessly or only to further our own agendas. The fact “proper” doesn’t enter into it doesn’t mean we can talk to God the way we would a telemarketer…or an employee. We can certainly be angry at God, praying angry prayers…and we can pray frightened prayers and lonely prayers and how-dare-you prayers. The Psalms—Scripture’s prayer book—is full of such prayers. As it is joyful prayers, worshipful prayers, prayers of thanksgiving and outright awe…also appropriate prayers to pray. However we pray, God is big enough to take it.
But prayer, equally, is about listening. If you’re like me, the biggest challenge in praying is to stop talking. I tend to treat God like God’s taking dictation: I speak my laundry list of concerns, God makes notes, then gets to work on my behalf. If, however, God knows what’s in my heart before I say it, my words are far less important than God’s answer. Which means listening, but listening not just with my ears. I may talk but God frequently answers my prayers in ways that don’t involve words at all: they involve other people, they involve experiences, they involve feelings. Understand “listening,” then, as “openness”…openness to all that is around you because God will answer your prayers as God chooses, how God chooses, when and where God chooses.
So, prayer in the life of a Jesus follower—not about “proper” but about this: faith that God alone is the answer…trust that God will answer…openness to how God will answer…patience for when God will answer…conviction to embrace and live out God’s answer.
Some Scripture: Psalm 5
Matthew 6:5-15
Romans 8:26-27
But, first, we have to get past the idea that proper prayer means saying the proper words in the proper way at the proper time, otherwise God won’t listen. Prayer, at its most basic, is simply talking and listening to God, no more, no less.
Consider this: a God who, by definition, is all-knowing, already knows what’s in our hearts and minds. We don’t have to give voice to our prayers for God to hear them. Which means that “proper” doesn’t enter into it: God will hear our prayers however, wherever, whenever they’re said. I’d even go so far as to say that prayer is less important for what we say and how we say it than it is for what the act of praying says about our faith—that we acknowledge God as the source of our help and salvation, that we turn to and trust in God above all others (including ourselves), that we recognize a God still active in the world is, through the work and power of the Holy Spirit, active in our lives, using for good whatever befalls us.
None of which is to say that we should pray carelessly or only to further our own agendas. The fact “proper” doesn’t enter into it doesn’t mean we can talk to God the way we would a telemarketer…or an employee. We can certainly be angry at God, praying angry prayers…and we can pray frightened prayers and lonely prayers and how-dare-you prayers. The Psalms—Scripture’s prayer book—is full of such prayers. As it is joyful prayers, worshipful prayers, prayers of thanksgiving and outright awe…also appropriate prayers to pray. However we pray, God is big enough to take it.
But prayer, equally, is about listening. If you’re like me, the biggest challenge in praying is to stop talking. I tend to treat God like God’s taking dictation: I speak my laundry list of concerns, God makes notes, then gets to work on my behalf. If, however, God knows what’s in my heart before I say it, my words are far less important than God’s answer. Which means listening, but listening not just with my ears. I may talk but God frequently answers my prayers in ways that don’t involve words at all: they involve other people, they involve experiences, they involve feelings. Understand “listening,” then, as “openness”…openness to all that is around you because God will answer your prayers as God chooses, how God chooses, when and where God chooses.
So, prayer in the life of a Jesus follower—not about “proper” but about this: faith that God alone is the answer…trust that God will answer…openness to how God will answer…patience for when God will answer…conviction to embrace and live out God’s answer.
Some Scripture: Psalm 5
Matthew 6:5-15
Romans 8:26-27
Monday, August 6, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 4: Scripture
It’s just sort of a given that if you’re going to be a follower of Jesus, you’re going to spend at least some time reading the Bible.
This can be a little daunting. Especially if you’re just finding your way into Scripture. It’s a big book, and it isn’t always the easiest of reads. Furthermore, people can’t agree about it. They argue about where it came from, how to read it, whether or not it’s still applicable to life today. But I would say this: yes, reading the Bible can be daunting, but it’s important…one of the most important disciplines of anyone who’d follow Jesus…and it is absolutely applicable today, with as much to say to you and me as at any time since the words were committed to scrolls. That’s because Scripture, first and foremost, tells us about Jesus—do we need Jesus any less now than anyone has in the past?
My purpose in this post is not to provide a plan for reading Scripture (you can find one here). But I do have a couple of things to say.
First, it’s important to read the Bible not just for content, for what the words say. It’s important to read the Bible because it’s through the words of Scripture that the Holy Spirit so often speaks to us. Hearing the Holy Spirit speaking to you through Scripture doesn’t require Biblical expertise, that you know the Bible cover-to-cover and understand all it says (no one can rightly claim that). It simply requires a willingness to engage what you find with heart and mind open. Reading the Bible opens a line of communication with the Lord.
Second, it’s important to read the Bible in community. This doesn’t mean reading solo is a bad idea. There is much to be gained from time spent, alone, with Scripture. But if reading the Bible opens a line of communication with the Lord, what the Lord may be saying is probably best discerned corporately. It’s too easy to confuse your own agenda with the voice of the Lord if you’re the only one listening.
Third, it’s important to read the Bible as a discipline but not necessarily in the sense of I-must-read-three-chapters-a-day-or-I’m-letting-Jesus-down. The Lord is not, after all, limited to speaking to us only through Scripture. The Lord can speak to us through art, through music, through experience. In fact, because silence itself can often speak volumes, the Lord can communicate to us by saying nothing at all. Reading the Bible should be a discipline in the sense that it is part—indeed, the biggest, most important part—of an ongoing, consistent, intentional effort to listen to what the Lord is telling you, however the Lord is telling you, every day.
Finally, it’s important to read the Bible as God’s message to a missional people. God’s call to Abraham (Genesis 12:1-9) is the call to go forth and be a blessing to all the nations—a call that, one way or another, resonates throughout the entire Scriptural narrative, from King David to the Prophets to Jesus himself to Paul and the development of the early church. And it’s still the call God places on our lives today as followers of Jesus: go forth, live the Good News, and be a blessing to those around us. Understanding that the Bible is God’s message to a missional people (that’s you and me) is critically important because it reminds us that we are to listen to what the Lord tells us through Scripture missionally. Which is to say that we hear it not as being just about our own personal, individual salvation, but as being about the role each of us plays in helping grow the Kingdom.
Some Scripture: Luke 5:1-11
Acts 1:6-11
This can be a little daunting. Especially if you’re just finding your way into Scripture. It’s a big book, and it isn’t always the easiest of reads. Furthermore, people can’t agree about it. They argue about where it came from, how to read it, whether or not it’s still applicable to life today. But I would say this: yes, reading the Bible can be daunting, but it’s important…one of the most important disciplines of anyone who’d follow Jesus…and it is absolutely applicable today, with as much to say to you and me as at any time since the words were committed to scrolls. That’s because Scripture, first and foremost, tells us about Jesus—do we need Jesus any less now than anyone has in the past?
My purpose in this post is not to provide a plan for reading Scripture (you can find one here). But I do have a couple of things to say.
First, it’s important to read the Bible not just for content, for what the words say. It’s important to read the Bible because it’s through the words of Scripture that the Holy Spirit so often speaks to us. Hearing the Holy Spirit speaking to you through Scripture doesn’t require Biblical expertise, that you know the Bible cover-to-cover and understand all it says (no one can rightly claim that). It simply requires a willingness to engage what you find with heart and mind open. Reading the Bible opens a line of communication with the Lord.
Second, it’s important to read the Bible in community. This doesn’t mean reading solo is a bad idea. There is much to be gained from time spent, alone, with Scripture. But if reading the Bible opens a line of communication with the Lord, what the Lord may be saying is probably best discerned corporately. It’s too easy to confuse your own agenda with the voice of the Lord if you’re the only one listening.
Third, it’s important to read the Bible as a discipline but not necessarily in the sense of I-must-read-three-chapters-a-day-or-I’m-letting-Jesus-down. The Lord is not, after all, limited to speaking to us only through Scripture. The Lord can speak to us through art, through music, through experience. In fact, because silence itself can often speak volumes, the Lord can communicate to us by saying nothing at all. Reading the Bible should be a discipline in the sense that it is part—indeed, the biggest, most important part—of an ongoing, consistent, intentional effort to listen to what the Lord is telling you, however the Lord is telling you, every day.
Finally, it’s important to read the Bible as God’s message to a missional people. God’s call to Abraham (Genesis 12:1-9) is the call to go forth and be a blessing to all the nations—a call that, one way or another, resonates throughout the entire Scriptural narrative, from King David to the Prophets to Jesus himself to Paul and the development of the early church. And it’s still the call God places on our lives today as followers of Jesus: go forth, live the Good News, and be a blessing to those around us. Understanding that the Bible is God’s message to a missional people (that’s you and me) is critically important because it reminds us that we are to listen to what the Lord tells us through Scripture missionally. Which is to say that we hear it not as being just about our own personal, individual salvation, but as being about the role each of us plays in helping grow the Kingdom.
Some Scripture: Luke 5:1-11
Acts 1:6-11
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 3: Stewards
What I have is mine. I worked for it…I paid for it…it belongs to me. And what I do with it is up to me: whether I hoard it or share it is nobody’s business because it’s mine to do with as I please.
In a way of life that places so much emphasis on individualism—individual success, individual achievement—and measures the significance of that individualism mostly in terms of stuff…well, it just seems to follow that whatever we have, we own.
Yet the Bible has an altogether different take and, frankly, in a I-worked-for-it-I-paid-for-it-it-belongs-to-me world, it’s a tough sell. Tough or not, Scripture is unflinching: The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him. (Psalm 24:1). In parable after parable Jesus tells, God is always the owner of the land or vineyard, always the King, and you and I—we’re the tenants, the workers, the managers, the servants. The point is not our respective roles (who wants to think of themselves as a servant?). The point is the relationship (owner/worker) and what that relationship says about our possessions.
What it says is, we aren’t owners. We’re stewards. What we possess—all of it—is a gift from God, a gift given with the intent that we will use it to meet our own needs but, equally important, to do our part in meeting the needs of others. This doesn’t diminish how hard we work nor does it suggest we don’t deserve what we have. After all, God didn’t just drop our houses and our cars and our clothes in our laps. But it does remind us of the bigger reality: if everything in the world first belongs to God, what we have and the skills and opportunities we utilized to acquire it—all that belongs to God.
This follows from the first two disciplines. My life is not about me alone but about life lived with and for others in community. As a steward of God’s good gifts, I do my part in meeting my own needs…I do my part in helping meet the needs of others.
But I don’t do it from a sense of guilt or obligation. I do it—I give—because of what Jesus gave for me. If my life was worth his life, how can I not give? It’s an act of thanksgiving and an act of worship. And an act, if you will, of testimony. All that stuff measuring my success? It’s a means to an end much bigger than my own creature comforts and sense of security. They’re tools for doing my part for the Kingdom and, in the process, showing the world something of what it means to follow Jesus.
Some Scripture: Psalm 24
Matthew 25:14-30
In a way of life that places so much emphasis on individualism—individual success, individual achievement—and measures the significance of that individualism mostly in terms of stuff…well, it just seems to follow that whatever we have, we own.
Yet the Bible has an altogether different take and, frankly, in a I-worked-for-it-I-paid-for-it-it-belongs-to-me world, it’s a tough sell. Tough or not, Scripture is unflinching: The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him. (Psalm 24:1). In parable after parable Jesus tells, God is always the owner of the land or vineyard, always the King, and you and I—we’re the tenants, the workers, the managers, the servants. The point is not our respective roles (who wants to think of themselves as a servant?). The point is the relationship (owner/worker) and what that relationship says about our possessions.
What it says is, we aren’t owners. We’re stewards. What we possess—all of it—is a gift from God, a gift given with the intent that we will use it to meet our own needs but, equally important, to do our part in meeting the needs of others. This doesn’t diminish how hard we work nor does it suggest we don’t deserve what we have. After all, God didn’t just drop our houses and our cars and our clothes in our laps. But it does remind us of the bigger reality: if everything in the world first belongs to God, what we have and the skills and opportunities we utilized to acquire it—all that belongs to God.
This follows from the first two disciplines. My life is not about me alone but about life lived with and for others in community. As a steward of God’s good gifts, I do my part in meeting my own needs…I do my part in helping meet the needs of others.
But I don’t do it from a sense of guilt or obligation. I do it—I give—because of what Jesus gave for me. If my life was worth his life, how can I not give? It’s an act of thanksgiving and an act of worship. And an act, if you will, of testimony. All that stuff measuring my success? It’s a means to an end much bigger than my own creature comforts and sense of security. They’re tools for doing my part for the Kingdom and, in the process, showing the world something of what it means to follow Jesus.
Some Scripture: Psalm 24
Matthew 25:14-30
Monday, July 9, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 2: Community
The call to discipleship may be received individually, but it's lived in community.
That makes some of us uncomfortable. Our relationship with Jesus--if we have one--is personal. What we may read in Scripture or hear in sermons or encounter in books we process asking, "What does this mean in my life?" Faith, like so much else in our culture, is often seen as a private possession. And because we're not always comfortable with what we think we understand about our faith, we're reluctant to put ourselves in a position where we feel compelled to share of what we know. It might be wrong. It might sound stupid.
Yet God always calls people--even leaders--into community. You can pretty much search Scripture in vain for the story of an individual called by God to be alone. And so it was with Jesus: the disciples, called individually, but called to live their discipleship in community with and for others. And with the early church (see the book of Acts): Christians called to live and worship and serve in community.
There's good reason for this, and it has nothing to do with safety in numbers or that it's easier to remain anonymous.
This is, partly, unavoidable. We share our lives with people who have no apparent interest in Jesus. But, equally, it's intentional. Do-you-know-Jesus-Christ-as-your-Lord-and-Savior doesn't work. In-your-face proselytizing of any kind doesn't work. It's the kind of thing that gives Christians a bad name. The point, in fact, is not to proselytize at all. The point is simply to live life together, letting how we live say all we need to say about following Jesus.
And living in community doesn't necessarily mean going to church. Not that there's anything wrong with going to church. We should go to church. But for too long Christians have equated "being in community" with "being in church." Look at Jesus himself: how often did he gather with people to break bread or to teach, and how often did he gather them to go to church? Being in church should be an outgrowth of being in community, not the other way around.
Some Scripture: Luke 5:1-11
Acts 2:43-47
That makes some of us uncomfortable. Our relationship with Jesus--if we have one--is personal. What we may read in Scripture or hear in sermons or encounter in books we process asking, "What does this mean in my life?" Faith, like so much else in our culture, is often seen as a private possession. And because we're not always comfortable with what we think we understand about our faith, we're reluctant to put ourselves in a position where we feel compelled to share of what we know. It might be wrong. It might sound stupid.
Yet God always calls people--even leaders--into community. You can pretty much search Scripture in vain for the story of an individual called by God to be alone. And so it was with Jesus: the disciples, called individually, but called to live their discipleship in community with and for others. And with the early church (see the book of Acts): Christians called to live and worship and serve in community.
There's good reason for this, and it has nothing to do with safety in numbers or that it's easier to remain anonymous.
- First, the Holy Spirit often speaks to us through the words and lives of others.
- Second, living our faith with others makes accountability easier.
- Third, communities provide support and can accomplish together what individuals alone cannot.
- Fourth, for all our cultural emphasis on individualism, our lives tend to be organized into groups anyway (not that all groups are communities, but we are used to living our lives with others whether at work or at the gym or in the neighborhood).
This is, partly, unavoidable. We share our lives with people who have no apparent interest in Jesus. But, equally, it's intentional. Do-you-know-Jesus-Christ-as-your-Lord-and-Savior doesn't work. In-your-face proselytizing of any kind doesn't work. It's the kind of thing that gives Christians a bad name. The point, in fact, is not to proselytize at all. The point is simply to live life together, letting how we live say all we need to say about following Jesus.
And living in community doesn't necessarily mean going to church. Not that there's anything wrong with going to church. We should go to church. But for too long Christians have equated "being in community" with "being in church." Look at Jesus himself: how often did he gather with people to break bread or to teach, and how often did he gather them to go to church? Being in church should be an outgrowth of being in community, not the other way around.
Some Scripture: Luke 5:1-11
Acts 2:43-47
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Missional Discipleship Practices, 1: Live Small
Discipleship, ultimately, is about Jesus. But it starts with me.
Those two great truths of discipleship about who I can trust and what I can control mean that the path to discipleship has to begin with me. And that means taking a hard look at how I understand myself and choices I’m making about how I live.
First, because I don’t live in a vacuum, I need to be aware of what the culture of which I’m part tells me about who I am and how I should live.
Those two great truths of discipleship about who I can trust and what I can control mean that the path to discipleship has to begin with me. And that means taking a hard look at how I understand myself and choices I’m making about how I live.
First, because I don’t live in a vacuum, I need to be aware of what the culture of which I’m part tells me about who I am and how I should live.
What contemporary American culture tells me is that I am what I do, where I live, and what I own; that my happiness, my sense of self-worth and, ultimately, my security, are in material wealth. So it follows: the more I have, the more I am. And because I should always want to be more, I should always strive to have more. It makes the economic world go ‘round.
It also tells me that I should live for me (my own desires should define my life) and, if I have one, my family. Others live for themselves and their families. Each person, each family—autonomous. I don’t need to be concerned with how my life choices might impact anyone else.
Collectively, this helps explain why I live trusting myself first and foremost and why I believe that through my own efforts and material success, I can control most of what happens to me.
Yet Jesus says something rather different.
- My identity and security are not in what I own so that the more I have, the better I am. I can lose all of that tomorrow. My identity and security are in my relationship with Jesus.
- Choices I make about my life don’t impact only my life or the life of my family. Depending upon the choice, it can impact my neighbor, my employees, my community, people across the state, across the country, across the ocean. My responsibility as a human being doesn’t begin and end with me.
Living small is not just about the size of my consumption footprint. It’s about recognizing that my life is not about me. It’s the kind of life Jesus modeled during his earthly ministry: life lived mindful of our obligation to others.
I can think of it as striving for low maintenance living. That doesn't mean asceticism. It means mindfulness: knowing how much is enough, sensitivity to how my life impacts others, awareness of my responsibility to help others. The less energy I require to maintain my life, the more energy I have for living. For Jesus, for my family, for others, for me.
Some Scripture: Luke 9:46-48; 12:13-21
Matthew 20:20-28Monday, June 18, 2012
Two Great Truths of Discipleship
Discipleship...I believe there are two great truths:
The bottom line of what discipleship is about is accepting and learning to live these two truths.
As great truths go, these two are straight-forward enough, but unpacking them will take some time. Unpacking them we must do, though, because they are foundational to all we think we know about living for the Kingdom.
It's easy to make a list of those people and institutions we don't always completely trust: the government, the boss, the media. At the same time, there are those we want to believe we can completely trust--our spouse, our significant other, our friends--and we count ourselves blessed if we can. The reality is, however, that all these people are still human, and because they are human they are broken, and because they are broken they can fail. Which means they can fail us. This isn't cynicism. It's the consequence of a fallen, sinful creation.
Jesus, on the other hand, will never fail us, will always be there for us, will always care for us.
We are control freaks. It isn't a question of if, only of how much. We like to believe that if we just work hard enough, hoard enough, hold on enough, that we can control just about everything that comes our way. But that's one of the great lies of the human condition. In the proverbial flash of an eye, everything we think we have, all the control we think we possess, can be taken away, and there's nothing we can do about it. Anything we think we can control, we can't.
Except this: we can control how much of our lives we choose to trust to Jesus.
Everything we do in the name of discipleship rises or falls on our willingness to trust Jesus with our lives.
How do you understand the relationship between trust in Jesus and discipleship?
- the only one you can trust completely is Jesus Christ
- the only thing over which you have complete control is how much of your life you choose to trust to Jesus Christ
The bottom line of what discipleship is about is accepting and learning to live these two truths.
As great truths go, these two are straight-forward enough, but unpacking them will take some time. Unpacking them we must do, though, because they are foundational to all we think we know about living for the Kingdom.
It's easy to make a list of those people and institutions we don't always completely trust: the government, the boss, the media. At the same time, there are those we want to believe we can completely trust--our spouse, our significant other, our friends--and we count ourselves blessed if we can. The reality is, however, that all these people are still human, and because they are human they are broken, and because they are broken they can fail. Which means they can fail us. This isn't cynicism. It's the consequence of a fallen, sinful creation.
Jesus, on the other hand, will never fail us, will always be there for us, will always care for us.
We are control freaks. It isn't a question of if, only of how much. We like to believe that if we just work hard enough, hoard enough, hold on enough, that we can control just about everything that comes our way. But that's one of the great lies of the human condition. In the proverbial flash of an eye, everything we think we have, all the control we think we possess, can be taken away, and there's nothing we can do about it. Anything we think we can control, we can't.
Except this: we can control how much of our lives we choose to trust to Jesus.
Everything we do in the name of discipleship rises or falls on our willingness to trust Jesus with our lives.
How do you understand the relationship between trust in Jesus and discipleship?
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Importance of Discipleship to Community Groups
Community groups, incarnational communities, fellowship groups, mission groups--a rose by any other name, as it were, but whatever we choose to call them, they're central to the implementation of a missional/incarnational church. But they can also pose a real challenge, especially for a traditional congregation transitioning to a missional/incarnational congregation.
Partly it's that DNA thing again. New churches, starting from scratch, and especially if they're reaching out to the unchurched, can make community groups part of who and what they are from the proverbial get-go. Living your walk with the Lord in a community group is just part of what it means to do and be church.
But, for traditional churches especially, it's also about baggage. People in traditional congregations hear "community groups," they think "small groups." Small group ministries of various stripes have been church staples for decades. For many people, their experience of small groups was positive; for just as many, however, the experience was something else...a weekly commitment to forced intimacy that made them profoundly uncomfortable. The idea of yet another small group experience...no thanks..been there, done that.
And there is the matter of time. Being in a community group is just one more thing to have to make time for in a schedule already begging for mercy.
We're very mindful of all this as we gear up to launch our first community groups. And because we are, we've come to the conclusion that the success of our community groups hinges on us first emphasizing the importance of discipleship. We're certainly not alone in this. Mike Breen, among others, has argued that apart from a discipleship process, community groups and missional/incarnational church are doomed to failure. The key, we believe, is in educating our congregation that Christian discipleship, rightly understood, is naturally lived out in a community group. Such groups, in fact, are the best expression of living life under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. This is not pedagogical slight-of-hand, either. The Scriptural, theological, and ecclesiastical basis for such an approach is sound.
Further, it's not about forced intimacy. It's about living your life with others. Appropriate levels of intimacy may naturally develop as a result, but there is no performance expectation as far as intimacy is concerned. Besides, we're all already living our lives with groups of people anyway. It's a matter of doing so with some intentionality because that's where our discipleship to Jesus and the work of the Kingdom leads us.
So, we're really working on ways to explain, explore, and emphasize discipleship as a necessary foundation for launching our community groups. In the coming weeks and months, I'll document what we discover.
In the meantime, we're interested in hearing about your experience. How have you defined discipleship vis-a-vis community groups? What role does discipleship training play in involving people in community groups?
Partly it's that DNA thing again. New churches, starting from scratch, and especially if they're reaching out to the unchurched, can make community groups part of who and what they are from the proverbial get-go. Living your walk with the Lord in a community group is just part of what it means to do and be church.
But, for traditional churches especially, it's also about baggage. People in traditional congregations hear "community groups," they think "small groups." Small group ministries of various stripes have been church staples for decades. For many people, their experience of small groups was positive; for just as many, however, the experience was something else...a weekly commitment to forced intimacy that made them profoundly uncomfortable. The idea of yet another small group experience...no thanks..been there, done that.
And there is the matter of time. Being in a community group is just one more thing to have to make time for in a schedule already begging for mercy.
We're very mindful of all this as we gear up to launch our first community groups. And because we are, we've come to the conclusion that the success of our community groups hinges on us first emphasizing the importance of discipleship. We're certainly not alone in this. Mike Breen, among others, has argued that apart from a discipleship process, community groups and missional/incarnational church are doomed to failure. The key, we believe, is in educating our congregation that Christian discipleship, rightly understood, is naturally lived out in a community group. Such groups, in fact, are the best expression of living life under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. This is not pedagogical slight-of-hand, either. The Scriptural, theological, and ecclesiastical basis for such an approach is sound.
Further, it's not about forced intimacy. It's about living your life with others. Appropriate levels of intimacy may naturally develop as a result, but there is no performance expectation as far as intimacy is concerned. Besides, we're all already living our lives with groups of people anyway. It's a matter of doing so with some intentionality because that's where our discipleship to Jesus and the work of the Kingdom leads us.
So, we're really working on ways to explain, explore, and emphasize discipleship as a necessary foundation for launching our community groups. In the coming weeks and months, I'll document what we discover.
In the meantime, we're interested in hearing about your experience. How have you defined discipleship vis-a-vis community groups? What role does discipleship training play in involving people in community groups?
Friday, June 8, 2012
Of Wineskins and Garments
I've written in the past about the fact that one of the challenges of leading a traditional church through the transformative process of becoming a missional/incarnational church is the need to nurture both simultaneously. A decision to go missional and, from the get-go, leave traditional behind is, to my mind, a denial of responsibility. Becoming missional is, almost by definition, a process, a movement of people from one way of living--not just one way of being church--to another. As such, it takes time: traditional and missional will exist side-by-side, and the timetable for coexistence is up to the Holy Spirit, not to me.
But...I've been spending time in Luke 5 lately and there is that business of the parable of the new wineskins. Jesus clearly is talking about new ways of being God's people and while he never mentions the word "church" how can we read his words and not think about the organizations and institutions of the faith? And if we do, it seems equally clear that Jesus is telling us that the old and the new cannot exist simultaneously without compromise at best, damage at worst.
Jesus, first in terms of garments, then wineskins, sets out that there is the old and the new. Further, he acknowledges that the old is torn which, read in terms of the church, can refer to the old ways wearing out or to actual splits in congregations and denominations. In either case, the new cannot be patched on to the old because that both disfigures the new and results in an old that is no longer of a piece. Shifting metaphors, Jesus makes it plain that old ways of being cannot hold new ways of being without ruining the old.
What Jesus' parable suggests to me is not that we must abandon traditional ways of being church but that we must not make the mistake of thinking that somehow we can piece together a viable expression of the Body of Christ using some traditional here, some missional/incarnational there. Or, to put it another way, we can't mend tears in old ways of being church with bits and pieces of new ways. And Jesus also reminds me that those who've always known the old will likely always prefer the old.
Damage is something I want to avoid, certainly to minimize. Maybe, therefore, for a time compromise is inevitable. But hasn't compromise always been inevitable? Indeed, any expression of the will of God that utilizes broken human beings can hardly be otherwise. But if we must compromise, let us do so faithfully, expecting that garments and wineskins old and new are to be in service not to comfort or vision but to the Kingdom.
But...I've been spending time in Luke 5 lately and there is that business of the parable of the new wineskins. Jesus clearly is talking about new ways of being God's people and while he never mentions the word "church" how can we read his words and not think about the organizations and institutions of the faith? And if we do, it seems equally clear that Jesus is telling us that the old and the new cannot exist simultaneously without compromise at best, damage at worst.
Jesus, first in terms of garments, then wineskins, sets out that there is the old and the new. Further, he acknowledges that the old is torn which, read in terms of the church, can refer to the old ways wearing out or to actual splits in congregations and denominations. In either case, the new cannot be patched on to the old because that both disfigures the new and results in an old that is no longer of a piece. Shifting metaphors, Jesus makes it plain that old ways of being cannot hold new ways of being without ruining the old.
What Jesus' parable suggests to me is not that we must abandon traditional ways of being church but that we must not make the mistake of thinking that somehow we can piece together a viable expression of the Body of Christ using some traditional here, some missional/incarnational there. Or, to put it another way, we can't mend tears in old ways of being church with bits and pieces of new ways. And Jesus also reminds me that those who've always known the old will likely always prefer the old.
Damage is something I want to avoid, certainly to minimize. Maybe, therefore, for a time compromise is inevitable. But hasn't compromise always been inevitable? Indeed, any expression of the will of God that utilizes broken human beings can hardly be otherwise. But if we must compromise, let us do so faithfully, expecting that garments and wineskins old and new are to be in service not to comfort or vision but to the Kingdom.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Relationship First, Church Second
The other night something happened that reminded me yet again of how much the cultural landscape has changed for the church.
Every week, a neighborhood here in Longmont hosts what's really a big outdoor party. In a park in the middle of the neighborhood they bring in a live band and food trucks. People bring lawn chairs, buy dinner, listen to the band, and they talk with one another. And as they talk with one another, relationships are furthered or, I imagine, started. It's a diverse crowd, but mostly 30-somethings with their kids. It is a very family-friendly environment.
I couldn't help but think: here is a microcosm of the future of the church. Here is our mission field. They will gather--hundreds of them--for food trucks and live music. Mostly, though, I'm convinced, they will gather because of relationships they already have (many obviously were there with friends) or, as they meet people, to form new ones. I saw very few people who appeared to be there alone. It was an experience they wanted because it was an experience they could share.
How many of them, I wondered, would be there if this was church? Even with the food trucks and the live band. If it were church, that's typically how it'd work: we'd identify a spot, bring in a band and food trucks, do some publicity, and see who shows up. And my guess is, it wouldn't be 1/100 the number there the other evening.
Thus, the change in the cultural landscape for the church. And it's about relationships. Used to, people came to church and, once they were there, formed relationships. Church first, relationships second. Now, people form relationships and only then, if at all, would they form a church. Relationships first, church second. Another missional reality: before we can be church with anyone in our mission field, we first have to be friends.
Every week, a neighborhood here in Longmont hosts what's really a big outdoor party. In a park in the middle of the neighborhood they bring in a live band and food trucks. People bring lawn chairs, buy dinner, listen to the band, and they talk with one another. And as they talk with one another, relationships are furthered or, I imagine, started. It's a diverse crowd, but mostly 30-somethings with their kids. It is a very family-friendly environment.
I couldn't help but think: here is a microcosm of the future of the church. Here is our mission field. They will gather--hundreds of them--for food trucks and live music. Mostly, though, I'm convinced, they will gather because of relationships they already have (many obviously were there with friends) or, as they meet people, to form new ones. I saw very few people who appeared to be there alone. It was an experience they wanted because it was an experience they could share.
How many of them, I wondered, would be there if this was church? Even with the food trucks and the live band. If it were church, that's typically how it'd work: we'd identify a spot, bring in a band and food trucks, do some publicity, and see who shows up. And my guess is, it wouldn't be 1/100 the number there the other evening.
Thus, the change in the cultural landscape for the church. And it's about relationships. Used to, people came to church and, once they were there, formed relationships. Church first, relationships second. Now, people form relationships and only then, if at all, would they form a church. Relationships first, church second. Another missional reality: before we can be church with anyone in our mission field, we first have to be friends.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Talk Less, Preach More
I just finished preaching five weeks on the book of James, which I wrapped-up not with words from James but from Paul. Familiar words, from his letter to the church at Corinth:
For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
Paul's words ring with a special resonance for the missional/incarnational church. For people who are products of a post-Enlightenment, postmodern, post-Christendom mindset, the fundamental tenets of Christianity are, well, ridiculous. But, no--such has been the case since Jesus himself: the message about the cross, Paul writes, is foolishness.
In a world where people increasingly tune out the claims of institutionalized religion even as they scan the cultural soundscape for spiritual frequencies that ring true, followers of Jesus can no longer preach Christ crucified with words alone. We must, as James would tell us, let the way we live preach for us...be doers of the Word.
As a church elder said to me last night, we Presbyterians sure like to hear ourselves talk. Indeed. Our mission field has tuned out the talk. They need to see faithful living.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Never Quite the Same Again
People who've divorced tell me that, once the decision is made, there is the fear that, somehow, life will stop. But they wake up, they walk outside, and life--the world--goes on...in some ways as if nothing had happened at all. Most everything that used to happen still happens. Yet, in your heart, you know you're in a different place, you've taken a step on a path that will lead you in a direction you've not traveled before...and whether the world changes or not, you'll never be quite the same again.
A decision to transition from traditional/attractional to missional/incarnational isn't divorce, obviously, at least not in the sense that we're separating ourselves from a relationship that has defined our lives to this point. We're still Presbyterian, still denominational, still connectional, still striving to do things decently and in order. Yet, in one very important way, the decision is a step in a direction we've not traveled before. A huge step. We didn't awaken the morning after no longer attractional but wholly missional--would were it that easy--but we all knew we'd never be quite the same again.
Missional church so often seems to be a young person's game. You read books and blogs on missional church, attend conferences on missional church--those responsible, those in the fore-front, those lifted up as leaders to follow and innovators to be emulated, are, for the most part, 20- and 30-somethings, the vast majority of whom are pastoring churches or heading ministries with pubescent DNA. I don't mean they're churches of teenagers--I mean they're young churches.
We're all heirs one way or another to the weight (many would say dead weight) of Christendom, but there's history and then there's history. A church that's been around ten years has a different relationship with history and tradition and we've-always-done-it-this-way-in-the-past than a church that's been around 150. The decision to be missional from the start is a very different decision than the decision to be missional after decades of being attractional. It's hardly a clean break, to extend the marital metaphor. You, in fact, don't want it to be a clean break. For better or worse, the history you have that others don't is a history that still very much defines the present for many in your congregation. You have a pastoral responsibility to honor and serve that. If you don't, the decision to become missional/incarnational is a decision to leave much of your congregation behind. However much God is calling us to a new thing, my guess is that God doesn't expect us to answer the call at the expense of those saints whom, for years, God called in other ways.
A decision for missional/incarnational is not about a pastor's vision--it is about Jesus' vision, because the church belongs to Jesus. Still, once made, life will go on, in some ways as if nothing had happened at all. Most everything that used to happen will still happen. Yet you will be in a different place. You will have taken a step on a path that will lead a direction you've not traveled before. And you'll never be quite the same again.
A decision to transition from traditional/attractional to missional/incarnational isn't divorce, obviously, at least not in the sense that we're separating ourselves from a relationship that has defined our lives to this point. We're still Presbyterian, still denominational, still connectional, still striving to do things decently and in order. Yet, in one very important way, the decision is a step in a direction we've not traveled before. A huge step. We didn't awaken the morning after no longer attractional but wholly missional--would were it that easy--but we all knew we'd never be quite the same again.
Missional church so often seems to be a young person's game. You read books and blogs on missional church, attend conferences on missional church--those responsible, those in the fore-front, those lifted up as leaders to follow and innovators to be emulated, are, for the most part, 20- and 30-somethings, the vast majority of whom are pastoring churches or heading ministries with pubescent DNA. I don't mean they're churches of teenagers--I mean they're young churches.
We're all heirs one way or another to the weight (many would say dead weight) of Christendom, but there's history and then there's history. A church that's been around ten years has a different relationship with history and tradition and we've-always-done-it-this-way-in-the-past than a church that's been around 150. The decision to be missional from the start is a very different decision than the decision to be missional after decades of being attractional. It's hardly a clean break, to extend the marital metaphor. You, in fact, don't want it to be a clean break. For better or worse, the history you have that others don't is a history that still very much defines the present for many in your congregation. You have a pastoral responsibility to honor and serve that. If you don't, the decision to become missional/incarnational is a decision to leave much of your congregation behind. However much God is calling us to a new thing, my guess is that God doesn't expect us to answer the call at the expense of those saints whom, for years, God called in other ways.
A decision for missional/incarnational is not about a pastor's vision--it is about Jesus' vision, because the church belongs to Jesus. Still, once made, life will go on, in some ways as if nothing had happened at all. Most everything that used to happen will still happen. Yet you will be in a different place. You will have taken a step on a path that will lead a direction you've not traveled before. And you'll never be quite the same again.
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