Tuesday, July 8, 2008

What if Church Went Away?

What would the Western world look like if all the churches went away? My guess is that it would look far better, with more Christian influence, than it presently does.

For most Christians--leaders and followers alike--the thought of the United States without a church building on every corner is way beyond heresy. It is demonic, communist; or at the very worst, liberal.

Imagining the Church without buildings is not something we do. We don't have permission to think that way. Our assumption is that building-based ministry is the only biblical option. When we think like that, we actually choose not to think.

An honest look at our present church system reveals issues and dynamics that actually retard the expansion of the Kingdom and limit the Great Commission to a very few. As I posted already, the Church in the Western world operates under the assumptions of Christendom. Briefly stated, Christendom is the name for a situation wherein the Church is in the center of culture, guiding and shaping it; the host government gives the Church a privileged position; and there is a definite blur between religion and politics. Along with this is the assumption that the host culture, by necessity, must be Christian (or sliding precipitously away from that position), otherwise the Church can't wield the kind of cultural influence it expects to or associate itself so closely with national patriotism.

It is my position that the Church is a radically counter-culture movement. The culture of the Kingdom is so different from any human government or culture, and so radically different in its values. We were born (again) to live on the margins; to speak prophetically from the outside in to the center. No matter where the people of God find themselves, they are in a mission field. Christendom has birthed a self-image for the Church opposite from the Scriptures.

The Christendom worldview has also spawned a whole variety of issues. First, we have created the concept of seeking to attract the "unchurched." The assumptions behind this are as follows: if our land (the US) was established as a Christian nation, then it follows that most people know the truth. They are not really "lost" in the classic sense; in fact, we talk about "outreach" in the US and "missions" overseas. So our goal as churches is to find a good location, staff our ministry machine with hotshot professionals, and draw people (who already know the truth but struggle with coming back) into the fellowship where they can "come to God."

(Isn't it interesting that Jesus, our Immanuel, is the embodiment of "God coming to people" and that Jesus in both the Great Commission and Acts 1:8 tells believers that we are the embodiment of His passions and power and we are to "go to them"? What went wrong? Christendom is killing us.)

The second Christendom dynamic that has wreaked havoc on the Great Commission is the fortress mentality. If our supposedly Christian nation is truly on the downturn, then it follows that the safe place for Christians to go and find wholesome community is in church. We must be keepers of the truth, and in so doing, shine the light on a darkening world. Why? To shame it into repentance. They'll see what they're missing and they'll come to us.

In the process we have developed a Christian subculture in America. We have our own stores where we can purchase Christian pop culture nick-nacks for the home; we have the Christian Yellow Pages so we can find a Christian mechanic and dentist and hair stylist. Our Christendom-based fortress mentality has convinced us to subtly pull away from the very world we are supposed to impact.

A third, related dynamic is what happens inside the Church to inhibit members from reaching their neighbors. The typical American evangelical church is what sociologists call a "closed set." Borrowing language from Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch, they describe a "closed set" in terms of the Church as having a hard edge and a soft center. We practice, generally speaking, a policy of "believe, then belong." People can't actually see how Christianity works until they agree to the statement of faith. Jesus, and in some measure the missional/incarnational movement, practice what Frost and Hirsch call an "open set": a group with a soft edge and a hard center.

Why do so many church leaders struggle with deeper discipleship? Because it is not really necessary. The "soft center" of evangelicalism is Jesus Himself. Getting closer to Him means acting like Him and caring about the things that make Him pound the table. We don't really need that because we are on the other side of the line: we are "saved" while those on the other side of the line are not. There is no sense of urgency because our insider status allows us to enjoy worship and devotions and be part of the Christian subculture. Besides, we have the professionals whose job it is to attract outsiders in for an encounter with God on Sunday mornings.

As a long-time purveyor of this perspective, I fell prey to the misguided notion that one of the clear ways one could judge "maturity" in a believer, and therefore consider him or her as a candidate for leadership, was by the criterion of church attendance. If one is truly committed to Christ, the thinking goes, then that person will be committed to the Church. Regular attendance and participation in the building-based ministry will be the signs. So the more people devote to the fortress, the more we deem them worthy of leading God's people. Do you see a vicious cycle brewing anywhere?

It irks preachers when people aren't in attendance on Sundays. Yet the same preacher will, in all good intentions, teach his listeners great principles for outreach. Here is the rub: we give advice on reaching our neighbors, and slather on a film of guilt for not having done so, and then expect our parishoners to spend their rapidly-diminishing "free" time in church on Sunday mornings, and a small group, and maybe a kids' program, and Wednesday prayer meeting, and men's breakfasts... all with members of the fortress while they go on not even knowing the names of their across-the-street neighbors.

The "open set" of Jesus' example and that of the missional/incarnational movement has a soft edge and a hard center. On the Christendom side, it means that one has to believe before he belongs. It seems to me that Jesus, with His laser-guided movement to the center (when His disciples would look more like Himeslf than themselves) practiced a "belong then believe" policy. It mattered less to Jesus where people were currently standing than if there was movement toward the center. If this were not the case, then there wouldn't be any first disciples and I could then spend my time talking about football and cars because there wouldn't even be a Church in 2008.

What can we do about this? Jesus Himself is teaching me how to be intentional and missional. Look, for instance, at Luke 5:1-11 and notice how Jesus got Peter to follow Him. The following principles are not for the squeamish. It gets personal and ugly. Read on if you dare.

By the way, what percentage of our preaching/teaching is dedicated to the disciple-making style of Jesus as opposed to the organizational style of Paul and the epistles? If my 15 years of preaching are any indication, it was about 95 percent about the inside-the-building stuff. Feed the machine, baby!

Luke 5 is the familiar story of Jesus calling Peter to become a "fisher of men." Jesus preaches to a big crowd, Peter goes fishing with Him, they catch a gob of fish, and Peter changes professions. But wait, there's more!

Verse 1 is actually the most important part of the story. It sets the table for us geographically and philosophically. At first blush, and in English, it appears that Jesus' main intention was teaching the Word of God. However, the original language doesn't support that. The main verb in the first sentence is not "preaching" or "teaching," or even "listening." It is "was," as in, "He was there." What He was there doing of first importance was not preaching or teaching. We know this by the participle "standing."

The participle "standing" is in the perfect tense. This means that it was Jesus' habitual practice to stand at that spot. It was His choice to be in that spot again and again. Why? It wasn't for the acoustics: sound travels well over water, but it was behind Him. It wasn't the best place to hold an audience: no escape when the crowds press in. It was a noisy place: Peter and his family, and doubtless other fishermen, were a few feet away putting their tools away after another night on the lake. (Peter worked third shift-when the fish came closer to the surface to feed). Guys who work hard for a living, who are tired and feeling like their space is being invaded, probably make a lot of noise. Lousy spot if you are supposed to be The Great Communicator and that is your first priority.

So what was Jesus up to? He was applying the very first principle of missional life: Establish proximity with the people you want to reach. Notice that Jesus didn't plant the First Church of the Seaside Messiah and expect Peter to come to Him. Jesus planted Himself in Peter's world.

Sociologists talk about three places in our lives that have dramatically different "rules" and authority structures. In each of these three places there are different kinds of relationships possible that are not possible elsewhere. The first place is the home. The second place is work. The third place is social. (Thanks again to Frost and Hirsch for pointing this out).

What happens when a majority of evangelical Christians tie their spiritual fellowship and social lives together? We are never found in any social place with any kind of frequency to build relationships with those outside the circle.

Missional living takes this point seriously. We move into needy neighborhoods, establish businesses, and look for ways to hang out with our unsaved friends. You do have some, don't you? That's a good diagnostic to help determine if the curse of Christendom has pushed you to the margins of meaningful impact. You can be usable and teachable; but if you're not available, it really doesn't matter.

Jesus met Peter when his bro Andrew dragged him into a face-to-face (John 1:40-42). At that time Jesus started talking in terms of moving Pete closer to the center (see above). So here is Jesus, being missional by going where His new friend is and habitually planting Himself there.

What would happen if followers of Jesus decided to get themselves known in the neighborhood bar and grill? What if they became frequent customers with the intention of establishing friendships with other frequent customers or workers? What if followers of Jesus quit the whole dumb idea of "church softball teams" and infiltrated city leagues with the purpose of building intentional relationships through following Jesus' missional example? What would happen if followers of Jesus realized that some of the best times for making relationships with our neighbors are the very times most of us are in church--and we did the Christ thing instead of the Christendom thing? Would our church leaders support our actions? Hmmm...

Back to Luke 5.

Jesus first establishes proximity with Peter. He hangs out where Peter is. This is the first and most difficult dynamic of missional life as opposed to church life.

Then Jesus deepens His relationship with Peter by building on the dynamics of Peter's world (Luke 5:2-3). Jesus climbs into Pete's work vehicle and asks if he can move it about 20 feet. Low-impact stuff, but it builds trust between a missional person and his new friend. Peter is still in his comfort zone; Jesus has moved into that zone and nothing is amiss.

After establishing proximity and doing activity in Peter's comfort zone, Jesus then has sufficient funds in His relational account to take Peter out of his comfort zone. He says, "Hey, Pete--let's go fishing. I know a perfect spot" (Luke 5:4-10). Peter responds out of growing relationship--we see that when he calls Jesus "Lord," instead of "You dumb wood butcher."

The underlying dynamic of Jesus' missional strategy is clear. It isn't good enough to befriend someone on their terms and leave it there. There is a purpose for the friendship, and that is to see the new friend come to know God in His fulness and for that friend to become everything God desires that he become. So the third scary step for a missional follower of Jesus is to invite an experience of God into your friend's life.

This doesn't mean slapping a "Four Spiritual Laws" tract on his kitchen table. It doesn't necessarily mean reciting your testimony or a litany of memorized Bible verses. At some point it means acting on your belief in God, and at the appropriate moment, inviting your friend to trust you as you become the portal of God's love and power. Can you give extravagantly? Pray shamelessly for a hard or hurtful situation? And do it in such a way that the relationship doesn't blow up in your face? Look, if the power of God isn't available for moments like these--both to give us the guts and then the answers to our prayers--then football and cars are a better investment of my time. Does God always "show up?" No; sometimes you feel like a fool. But sometimes He does...

After Peter responds to the power of God, Jesus brings him full circle by having Peter enter His world. "Your piscatorial prowess will now be directed toward bipedal humanoids," Jesus assures Pete (Luke 5:10). And lo and behold, Peter follows Jesus.

The making of disciples following the example of Jesus outside where the fish are. This is the missional genius of Jesus. It is to be our example for missional life in the twenty-first century.

In conclusion, it might seem that I am on a crusade to ruin the Church. Actually, no one needs to be on a crusade to ruin the Church; it is doing a fine job all by itself. Am I bitter and disillusioned? I was disillusioned before I realized what I had been missing. Now I'm having the time of my life. This realization cost me my career as a pastor and preacher. It was a good call. Now I can follow Jesus toward the center and no longer engage in feeding the machine.

Have I given up on the established Church as we know it in America? Ah, now that's the real question. If you follow my logic, one has to conclude on some level that much of what happens in building-based ministry is intrinsically illegitimate--a huge waste of time, money and focus. So the real question isn't, "Bob, what do you have against the Church?" but rather, "What does the Church have against the Great Commission?"

We really must declare our allegiance. If it is solely to Jesus, the road is going to be rocky, misunderstood and unappreciated, but totally worth it.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

The Curse of Christendom

The modern American Church owes much to a Roman emperor. Much of it ain't so good.

We have a name for the Church's interface with its world since Constantine declared Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire. The word is Christendom. It refers to a modern (Western) world that has had the influence of Christian values in the center of its consciousness.

That seems like a good thing to most Christians. In fact, for many, it seems like that is the goal of the Church. At this point in US history, it appears that we are slipping away from the pinnacle of our achievement in capturing a culture. A quick look at the legacy of Christendom, however, reveals that many of the assumptions under which most American church leaders and members operate deviates from the first two centuries of the Church, and the results are far different.

From Pentecost until the Edict of Milan in 313, Christianity flourished on the edge of society. Persecuted and pressured, the ranks of believers in Jesus grew exponentially. Those who decided to follow Jesus did it knowing the risks. The power of God was evident in their ranks and the Church became a counter-culture force across the world.

Constantine's edict gave the Church social status. It did not give the Church momentum. Rather, it tamed the Church as it found its place at the social table. The problem here is a change of diet. The Church on the edge of society has nothing to eat but what God offers. The food at the social table suddenly adds the fattening fillers of civil religion. Soon after tasting these new treats the Church found itself defined by politics, priests and property.

At this point many readers would agree, but quickly add that the Reformation led by Luther and Wesley in the 16th century changed all that. Let's skip ahead to today's Church in America and see.

Politics
The American Church operates with many assumptions derived not from the Bible but from centuries of familiar treatment by host governments. The Christendom Church expects to be in the center of the culture; its influence then is expected to radiate from the center out to the edges. No one can deny that the post WWII Church in America has made an impact. What is in question is what kind of impact we have generated and how we quantify "success."

So many Church-related public voices rally local members to vote for political candidates who embrace certain "accepted" positions. For millions of evangelicals, to be Christian is to be Republican. We also declare our outrage when stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments are removed from public buildings. We continue to expect preferential treatment, in spite of the Bible's warnings about the impossibility of any and all secular governments truly following the King of kings. We demand tax-free status, and many church professionals expect "clergy discounts" where they shop and play golf.

The Church of the first two centuries, and the Church of a new Reformation committed to a missional/incarnational DNA, see many dangers in alignment with any political system. The Church was always supposed to speak from the edges inward; when the Church expects and receives preferential treatment from its host government, it comes with a cost. The Christendom Church loses its prophetic voice because it is on the inside and is now, therefore, part of the problem.

This perspective also changes our orientation toward our host culture. Instead of seeing my circle of influence as a mission field, the Christendom worldview by necessity has to assume that the host culture is basically a good culture (since the Church is at the center!) simply in need of repair; the people surrounding us are basically good people who know the truth but need to be guided back to the right path.

Priests
Evangelicals feel pretty smug about this one: we don't have an irrelevant Pope. But looking at the dynamics of church life, we have to admit that we have a clearly-defined priesthood nonetheless.

The Christendom Church has a social order that was not present in the early Church. There were leaders, of course. But the implications of our present system are staggering.

How many churches in the Western world actually operate in a biblical mode in terms of form and function? How is the interdependence of 1 Corinthians 12 or Ephesians 4 experienced? In contrast, how many churches operate in a Christendom mode where paid professionals "do the ministry?" How many church members refer to their pastor as "the minister?"

Most evangelical churches can't find enough people to staff the nursery.

That's because the average church member "goes to church" on Sundays with an expectation that he or she will be "ministered to" by the preacher and the worship team, while those members sit and soak and give little in return. They can't, because the average member in the average Christendom-ideology-dominated fellowship is not part of the accepted priesthood. He or she is not a "Reverend."

How the modern priesthood actually sabotages the fulfillment of the Great Commission is an idea worthy of an upcoming blog of its own.

Property
One of the greatest blows Christendom landed on Christianity is in reorienting church from a verb--what happens when God's people act in His name--to a noun: the place I go on Sundays. How many people talk of "going to church" rather than "doing" or "being" church?

The goal of building-focused ministry is to attract the largest number of people we possibly can on Sunday mornings. People will sense their need, we believe, and come visit us if we are attractive enough. In fact, our subtle goal is to be more attractive than the church down the block. We wind up in competition with other churches.

The New Testament church and the missional/incarnational church of a new Reformation refuse to engage in a "come and see" mentality that places all the pressure on the unsaved. Jesus teaches us to "go and tell;" to take on the mantle of a follower of His and wear it well.

What percentage of the Church's resources is tied up in maintaining property and supporting professional clergy? If it is true that God counts true spirituality in terms of taking care of those who can't take care of themselves (James 1:27) and actually judges our lives in relation to how we work on behalf of the oppressed (read Jeremiah 22:15-16 and Isaiah 58 very carefully), then how accountable are we for the tithes and offerings that never make it out the door of the church?

Some might suggest that we need buildings to offer seminars on financial management or to host recovery groups--things that can have a major long-term impact in people's lives. Who says that we need a building dedicated to religious purposes for those things? What might our impact be if instead of inviting strangers from the community to such events, we would offer our services to individuals and groups already within our speres of influence--people with whom we have already been intentionally investing our lives?

Whatever happened to a mobile Church going to where the need is? Why do we insist that needy people come find us? Isn't that exactly the opposite of how God treated us?

You can't invest in a needy person's life outside the church building if you spend all your free time inside it. In this case perhaps smaller is bigger. Smaller crowds means personal ministry to the people with whom we are intentionally establishing relationships. Smaller buildings means using homes that foster intimacy and ongoing relationships.

If permeation of the culture with the values of the Kingdom is truly what we want, then it is time we got back out there. We must do it as individuals and groups demonstrating a passionate love for others while we represent the King who did that for us. It will never happen if we represent a political or social philosophy as a voting block.

What would happen if followers of Jesus began viewing their surrounding culture as a hostile environment needing a demonstration of the radical love of God? What if those who have really counted the cost would band together and develop intentional relationships in their spheres of influence? What would happen if church people would stop wringing their hands over waning political influence, stop identifying themselves by what they oppose, and start loving people into the Kingdom? What would happen if we could expose the curse of Christendom and set people free to be salt and light?

It's edgy. Scary. Downright dangerous.

Just what the Church is supposed to be. Exactly where the Church is supposed to be.