Friday, October 12, 2007

mind matters

"One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"

"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.[e] Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'[f] The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'[g]There is no commandment greater than these."" - Mark 12:29-31

What does it mean to love God with all your... mind?

This question is central to what, from Jesus' inference by quotation of the Shema in this context, it means to engage in the covenant relationship with God; both for the people of Israel through history and those who would follow him into this new movement that was being birthed before their eyes. And while at a cursory read we may feel that we understand this idea rather satisfactorily enough, there is a deeper question that must be asked first; one which we may feel that we are somewhat less equipped to engage.

That is, before we can properly address what it means to love God with all our mind, we must come to grips with - at some level - what it is that we are really referring to when we speak of 'mind'. What is it, really? What is its nature? What is its function in our lives? Our identities? Our relationships? It is only once we are aware of what we are actually talking about that we can possibly address what it means to subjugate this aspect of ourselves to the will and purposes of God in and for our lives.

It is at this juncture that I stray into the deep end of a philosophical pool in which I can, at best, paddle awkwardly and embarrassingly; really for no one else's benefit but my own and for the simple joy of getting wet. With this in mind, we proceed:

A few thoughts:

+ The mind is our lens… our interpretive eye… It is our consciousness and awareness; of ourselves and our world. It is our vehicle of perception; the means by which observations (from the input of our senses) become information. Aristotle described the mind as ‘the part of the soul by which it knows and understands’. That is to say (I think) that it is the means by which the soul reaches out to KNOW. It is the expression and vehicle of the hearts desire to understand.

+The mind turns stimulus into information and it is the storehouse of that accumulated knowledge and experience.

+The mind is the point of contact between my soul – that which is essentially ‘me’ – and everything else. As such, it is the gatekeeper to our hearts. The mind determines what information, observation and stimulus will stick with us and shape us, and what will simply be discarded. It differentiates between nutrients and waste… determines friend from foe. It is the point at which we decide who or what we allow to shape our experiences, let into our sphere or provide voice to our identity.

On the flip side, the mind is also the conscience for the dialogue of the soul itself; it is the filter between our hearts and our mouths… Between what we feel and how we act. We know this to be the case, because we have all experienced what it is like when we happen to bypass this filter in a moment of impatience or inflamed emotion.

:: In all these respects, the Mind is constantly processing input. It is constantly engaging our environment. And, in the process, it is constantly being shaped.

The question is, as we ponder Jesus' invitation to discipleship of the mind, will we engage this process; will we be intentional, or simply allow it to happen?

A few questions to guide this reflection...

+ First, what do we allow into our minds?

If you were to travel on I-95 through Rhode Island, as I do on a regular basis, you would undoubtedly notice that the section of roadway between exits 14 and 16 has a certain... essence. A presence, if you will. A sensual experience that makes its way into the airspace of your vehicle and proceeds to journey with you for several miles. It's that undeniable smell that lets me know I'm in Cranston.

I guess they have to put wastewater treatment plants somewhere...

Back in the day, these wonderful facilities didn’t exist. Biology being what it is, people of course still had to deal with the byproducts of digestion just as we do today, they just flushed it directly into the bay... or whatever body of water happened to be most convenient. Over time, we gradually realized that this was actually really detrimental to both the environment and our health…So we developed treatment plants sort the *stuff* out of our l'eau de toilette so that what finally passes through into the watershed isn’t (as) harmful.

The question is, how much stuff do we simply allow into our minds without any kind of filter whatsoever? Advertisements, opinions, images… Why is it that we treat our waste water with more prudence than what we allow into our lives? How much of our cultural refuse do we indiscriminately allow to enter and influence us without our even being aware of it?

Perhaps even more tragic are those moments when we are 'prudent' enough - exercise enough of a filter - to recognize that something is shit, and then proceed to consume it anyway. Knowing is... half the battle? Maybe. Pornography, gossip, comments and opinions we simply shouldn't give ear to, conversations that we know we simply shouldn't be having...

Having anti-virus software on your computer is one step... actually turning it on is another. You actually need to activate it in order for it to do any good. So often we engage junk with our defenses, knowingly, down… And then we wonder why the hard drive is non-functional the next day… These things we let in actually start rearranging the place… shaping their host in their own image.


+ Second, what do we allow through our minds?

Are we aware of how our own thoughts shape us? We all know those moments when thoughts just seem to make their way up from the bowels of our soul into the realm of our conscious thought. We run into a person, get into a situation, we're engaged in a simple conversation... and suddenly this voice pops in, saying things we never thought we were capable of saying; reflecting terrible, cutting judgment and a corrupt or belittling spirit. These are moments that make us glad that we have a filter between heart and mouth.

The question is, what do we DO with these thoughts? These things that stem from the depths of our own brokenness… Left to their own devices, these thoughts will cycle through our conscious and back into our hearts, to grow and ferment a little bit more before surfacing again. Do we let them? Do we even perhaps at some level - dare we say- enjoy the beast that hides beneath the surface? Though we'd NEVER give voice to this side of our personality, does it give us a sense of strength to know that the darkness is there? That it COULD be unleashed?

We need to recognize that we do not entertain this company lightly. Let's just call this... sub-letting to the devil. Our thought life WILL shape and color our heart and soul… it will. It does. Toxins don't just hang out in a system... they kill it.

If you have ever seen someone who is suffering from kidney failure, you know this. The waste which their non-functional kidneys are not removing from their blood stream is visible on their face; their complexion literally looks... yellow. When we fail to discipline our own thoughts, we knowingly allow those toxins to stay in the system. This will have consequences. So... do we allow these thoughts to cycle and ferment, or do we grab them, name them, and toss aside those things that do not reflect or produce in us the people that we know we have been created to be? Paul writes:

2 Cor 10:5 : ‘We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.’

Do we address our own brokenness, or simply acquiesce?


+ Lastly, what do we allow to SHAPE our minds?

In his theory of knowledge, Aristotle states that to ‘Know’ is to have the soul become 'one in form with the object to be known'…This is described as 'isomorphism'.

That is to say that whatever it is that I seek to know; whether that be a tree, rock, or another person, it will require that I come out of myself and enter into the experience of that which I seek to know. I take its shape, allow myself to feel what it feels. I enter into your experience, and allow that to shape... me. That is why it is so profound to feel that we are in the presence of someone who truly knows us. They have, in some way, allowed us to shape them... surrendered a piece of their autonomy in order to understand who we are.

How does this inform what we mean when we say that we are seeking to know… God? How will this journey into HIS experience, HIS heart and character shape us? This gives perspective to Johns words when he saysWhoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.’ (1 Jn 4:8 )

That is to say if we haven’t been SHAPED, it means we don’t KNOW.

Our Minds, and our lives are shaped by what we pursue. What we know will precipitate the expression of who we are. Will this be God, or the inadvertent molding of our minds, and identities, by the forces of our culture? It is in this respect that Paul writes to the Roman church: Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.’ (Romans 12:2)

May we love God with all our mind. May we actively engage our world with genuine, critical awareness. And may we allow that awareness shape us and the lives we live.


Thursday, October 11, 2007

Shocking?

Shocking? No.

Heartbreaking?

'Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us...' Oh, how we have muddied these waters.

http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=280

Anybody?

Sunday, October 7, 2007

sexy

[Genesis 2:4 – 3:10]

At the apex of the creation story that we find in Genesis; at its very heart and point of focus, we find these words:

'The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.' - Gen 2:25

Having journeyed with the author through his poetic narrative to this point, we come to realize that the nakedness described here runs much deeper than a simple commentary on their lack of clothing. Rather, to mention the comfortable nakedness of these first people is to penetrate the callousness of of own experience and the knee jerk reactions of absurdity and awkwardness we feel at such a mental picture and pull out a profoundly essential, though perhaps deeply latent, longing; the longing for home.

The nakedness of Adam and Eve is a potent visual representation of everything that rebellion has cost us. These are people... undivided. Perfectly connected. To God. To Creation. To each other. To themselves. It is a picture of people who have nothing to hide; the blessed union of identity, self awareness, transparency and relationship.

The Hebrews describe this as 'Shalom'.

Some theologians have described it simply as 'the way it ought to be'.

However you describe it, it is a picture of the world and the relationships that we have been built for. And it is what, over the course of the next chapter of Genesis, we watch ourselves walk away from. As we choose the path of self-sufficiency, self-identity and self-government - in the tragic/comic irony of leaves declaring independence from the vine - we find these relationships broken on every level.

Enter insecurity. Shame. Guilt. Blame. Hiding.

Clothing.

Where there was once perfect relationship, we find ourselves broken, divided and deeply disconnected.

Which, as a backdrop, provides a fascinating lens on human sexuality as we see it play out all around us.

[much of what follows is derived from a teaching by Rob Bell called 'sexy on the inside', which incidentally provides the framework for one chapter in his most recent book, 'Sex God'... which you should buy and read... right now]

:: The english word, 'sex' finds its root in the Latin; 'secare'. Literally, secare means 'to sever, amputate, disconnect from the whole'. It is from this term that we also get words like 'section', 'dissect', etc.

Sex... disconnection. Fascinating.

Through this lens, our ‘Sexuality’ might be understood as our awareness of our disconnection - that separation that finds its origin in the fall - and our desire/search to find reconnection… Perhaps we become consciously aware of our sexuality as the tension between our own disconnection and the kind of relationship that, deep down, our soul tells us we’ve been built for.Perhaps the felt reality of our sexuality is that straining of our whole being for the reclamation of shalom.

This is about so much more than two people fumbling around in the dark… This is about so much more than physical union. In fact, unless we recognize this longing in ourselves - for deep connection and for real relationship - we are apt to allow our understanding of our own sexuality to become, at best, shrunken and, at worst, totally hijacked by the definitions of our culture.

In his book, Bell comments on the irony of sexual expressions that assume that begin and end with the merely physical:

" [these friends] help me understand why the Right Light district in Amsterdam is so sexually repressed. If you have ever walked through this part of the city, where prostitution is legal, you know it can be a bit jarring to have the women in the windows gesturing to you, inviting you to come in and have 'sex' with them.

What is so striking is how unsexual that whole section of the city is. There are lots of people 'having sex' night and day, but that's all it is. There's no connection...

And so in the Red Light district, there's lots of physical interaction and no connection. There's lots of people having lots of physical sex - for some it's their job - and yet it's not a very sexual place at all.

There's even a phrase that people use with a straight face - 'casual sex'. The rationale is often, 'it's just sex.'

Exactly. When it's just sex, then that's all it is. It leaves a person deeply unconnected." p.43


In contrast, Mother Theresa has been described by people who knew her as an extremely sexual (one writer has even used the word 'erotic') person… And she was a virgin her whole life. This was not a ‘repressed’ woman. She had a vibrant, living, sexuality… It was this energy and drive that she channeled into her profound, earth shaking connection with the poorest and most overlooked people on earth.

Our problem is that we have taken one, very small, aspect of sexuality – that of a physical interaction between two people – and have made this the whole conversation… In reality, our sexuality is ALL the ways we strive to reconnect with our world, with each other, and with God.

We may feel that euphoria of connection at a concert, a sporting event, or in corporate worship… Though music, or being immersed in the beauty of creation… In ‘tell-all’ conversations that last all night, or over a casserole at a family reunion… That sense of connection that makes us feel as if, for a moment, the world is as it should be.

On the flip side, we feel that tension and disconnection in our grief over a broken relationship, in news clips that convince us that there is just no way we could ever all get along… When we’re lonely even when we’re surrounded by a group of friends… When we just wish we didn’t have to hide anymore, and wish that people would love us even if they really knew us.

Sex is about connection.

Its about connection... and commitment. One of the biggest lies our culture shoves down our throats is that we can have the meaningful connections we deeply long for without any kind of commitment… Without having anything demanded of us.

Because you see, I want to connect with you; but I want to keep my options open. Because what if you get annoying (or fat, or have bad breath, or a troublesome family, or are generally less interesting than I thought you were initially)? I need to have the freedom to disconnect if this should ever become too hard.

How many female friends do I have that fall into the patterns of live-in boyfriends and indefinite 'engagements' when, if they're feeling honest, they'd admit that all they want is a pair of rings and the assurance that this whole affair is more than a 'test drive'? What is it about commitment that makes us feel whole... or authentically valued?

Beyond dating, the reason so many marriages fail is that so many of us fail to appreciate or realize the beautiful thing about marriage IS the commitment.

It’s when you get past the honeymoon and start to uncover the ugly, broken pieces of each other… and stick it out… and love each other MORE because of it because you’ve connected at a deeper place, having that much less to hide… THAT’s where it gets beautiful. That's where it gets real.

The tragedy is that most people never get to that place, because they were never told to expect that real connection would be costly.

This obviously happens in the context of romantic relationships, but as we've been discussing, this is only a small percentage of our expressed sexuality when it comes to the search for meaningful connection. No, this 'sexual dysfunction' of the failure to commit also plagues us in the context of community. We Christians even have a term for what it looks like:

‘Church-hopping’.

Which by any other name might just sound, appropriately, like an outward expression of our rampant, unhinged consumerism; the cancer of self-regard. It is the perspective that I, as a consumer of religious goods and services have the right to demand everything and sacrifice nothing. The customer is always right.

I have no reason to stay in any community that stretches, demands, or simply isn't hip (or square) enough for me. With no appreciation for commitment or any degree of long-suffering, there's nothing to keep me from hitting the road should this become to difficult. In something that I could describe no better than ecclesiastical masturbation, I'll keep moving until I find a community that shows less resistance to my efforts to create it in my own image.

::The tragedy of this pattern - whether romantically, in the context of community, or otherwise - is that, ultimately, we miss out on the connection that everything in us longs for.

When we refuse to realize that relationship will be costly… When we think that we can cover over our disconnection by simply being attractive enough, drawing enough attention from the right people, by giving ourselves away to anyone who might be interested… or by taking what they have to give…

We reduce ourselves to the sum total of what we can consume and the pleasures we can experience.

We are so much more.

:: Our world would tell us that ‘sexy’ is a fleeting physical reality, attained by a few blessed-born individuals or those who can afford to buy it. It’s something that can be captured in a photo and something that quickly diminishes with age unless we purchase the right supplements and work out enough. Sexy is the number of people you can convince to consume you with their eyes and give nothing back.

Scripture would tell us something different, if we are willing to listen. ‘Sexy’ is a person who is fully present. A person who is letting themselves be healed, made whole, and so able to give themselves away without becoming something less than what they were. Sexy is being deeply connected… Mother Theresa connected. Connected with their creator, with creation, and with who they’ve been created to be. To ‘sexy’ is to be fully, alarmingly, scandalously and infectiously alive. Fully human.

This is the journey Jesus invites us in to.

May we be truly sexy people... In all the ways that matter, and in none of the ways that don't.

Monday, October 1, 2007

The Kingdom of God and the Missional Church

He told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches."” – Matthew 13:31-32

:: The Kingdom and the Gospel ::

In the life and ministry of the Jesus we find recorded in scripture, there is no one topic more central to his teaching, invitation, or understanding of his own vocation than that of the Kingdom of God. From his very first recorded words as a rabbi, prophet and teacher, it is this proclamation that we find on his lips; ‘The time has come… The Kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!’ (Mk 1:15). For Jesus, it was this message of ‘the Kingdom’ that comprised the very context for everything that he would say and do. In the Gospels, it is everywhere. From this observation alone, even a superficial foray into the New Testament would reveal this as an important and central concept. As followers of Jesus now thousands of years removed from this original utterance, then, our struggle is not with the realization that this ‘Kingdom of God’ which Jesus refers to is important; our struggle is rather to understand what, exactly, he meant by it.

And it is this pursuit; the pursuit of real understanding, that will invite us into the story of Jesus himself – in his context and through the ears of his original listeners – rather than merely finding ways to fit Jesus and his message into OUR stories. What would a proclamation of the ‘Kingdom of God’ have meant to a Jewish audience in a 1st century Palestine under Roman occupation? How would this ‘good news’ have resonated with their traditions and expectations? How does this fit within the flow of redemptive history as a continuation or consummation of God’s ongoing relationship with his covenant people? Unless we enter into these questions with some diligence we are sure to miss the significance and calling implicit in that which Jesus is inviting us to ‘repent and believe’ in when he speaks of the Kingdom.

Consideration of the Jewish understanding of history will prove to be especially critical for the purposes of interpreting both Jesus’ view of his own role in redemptive history, as well as his message of the Kingdom. Hebrew tradition divides the unfolding of history into two ages: the ‘present age’, and the ‘age to come’.

The ‘present age’ is defined by the brokenness and conflict that flows from the legacy of rebellion and sin that separated both mankind and creation from their creator. This age is much like a leaf separated from the vine: cut off from its’ source, it is empty, dying, and falling back into chaos. The reign of sin, the symptoms of death, the apparent victory of the enemy; these are the characteristics of what the Jews of Jesus’ day would describe as ‘the present age’. At this point in their collective story as a nation, and as Gods covenant people, the people of Israel would have a heightened awareness and identification with the brokenness and oppression of this age due to their suffering at the hands of the Babylonian Empire. Having lost sight of their calling to be the faithful vehicle of God’s blessing to the whole world, they had been conquered and overrun by a foreign, pagan empire, and taken into captivity in a foreign land.

“By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion. There on the poplars we hung our harps… How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” – Psalm 137:1-4

It was in this context; in this tangible re-visitation of the experiences of their ancestors as captives in Egypt, that we find the seeds of expectation for a “New Exodus”1 – hope for the ushering in of a new age – planted. The Jewish people, knowing the heart of their God for the healing and restoration of his people and his world, expected that the ‘age to come’ would break in suddenly; that, carried by a new ‘son of David – a ‘messiah’, or ‘anointed one’ – a new reign of God would break in to this present age, re-establish the people of Israel, and God himself would once again dwell in the midst of his people in peace and prosperity. They expected that this would be both cataclysmic and beautiful; that the enemies of God would be vanquished and the people of God restored and blessed.

By the time of Jesus, the physical exile in Babylon had largely ended as the Romans established a new empire where the Babylonians had once ruled. The Jewish people had been partially restored to their ancestral lands; Jerusalem and the temple had been rebuilt, though not universally accepted. The sense was that, under Roman occupation now, and in the continued absence of God’s tangible presence, the exile was still very real and the expectation for the in-breaking of the reign of God was still very imminent.

It is absolutely vital that we understand that the expectation of Israel concerning the ‘age to come’ was not that the ‘chosen people’ would be swept away from this world to some disembodied state of eternal bliss; to leave earth behind for heaven. Rather, it was that heaven would be BROUGHT to earth. That God would come and dwell with his people. That expected cataclysm of the in-breaking ‘age to come’ was not an escapist dream; it anticipated a collision of realms – heaven and earth – brought back together again.

To clarify yet further, it is also important to recognize that the Jewish understanding of ‘heaven’ was not primarily geographical; heaven was not a location somewhere on the other side of the universe where God dwelt amongst the clouds. (This idea reveals the echoes of Greek mythology that have crept into our own thinking.) No, in the understanding of Jesus’ contemporaries, heaven was not a physical location; it was understood as the realm where God’s will was done. This realm, because of our sin and for our sake, was separated from our own experience by a sort of ‘veil’ (echoes of this idea found in Lam 3, Ez 13, 2 Cor. 3). It was understood that there were places where this ‘veil’ was thinner than others; places where heaven and earth were closer together – most notably, the temple. One day, it was believed that this veil would be lifted – that heaven and earth would come together fully – and that this would either mean judgment or glorification, depending on how one had oriented oneself toward this day.

Here, we can begin to understand Paul’s statement in 1 Corinthians 13; ‘Now we see but a poor reflection, as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.’ This ‘age to come’ would be both beautiful and terrifying, and it would come suddenly.

I explore all of this simply to illustrate how Jesus’ hearers would have interpreted this proclamation of ‘the Kingdom of God’ through the lens of the expected ‘age to come’. Heaven was, for them, the place where Gods will was done. To proclaim that the ‘kingdom of Heaven/God’ was at hand was to say that the realm of God’s consummate will was breaking through into our reality. The age to come was breaking in. Heaven was touching down.

So, Heaven is the realm where Gods will is done perfectly. The ‘Kingdom of God’, proclaimed as good news by Jesus and his disciples, is a description of that state being made reality here on earth. When Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray, his prayer hinges upon the request of God that ‘Your kingdom come, your will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.’ (Mt. 6:9) All that I have tried to say in this essay thus far has already been said, more efficiently and eloquently, by Jesus himself in the Lords Prayer. The Kingdom is about seeing God’s will being done, on earth as it is in heaven. It is about participating with God in the in-breaking of his reign into our reality. It is, quite simply, the act of bringing heaven to earth. This is the ‘good news’ that the gospels proclaim and call us to live into.


:: The ‘Missional Church’ ::

In John chapter 20 we find Jesus, having risen from the dead, appearing to his disciples. Behind the locked doors where they were hiding he appears in their midst, showing them the wounds of crucifixion on his hands and his side. Then, he says something incredibly disturbing:

‘As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ (Jn 20:21)

On the surface, this may not strike us as earth shattering. That is, until we realize that Jesus says this while holding his hands out to them in order to help them understand what this ‘sending’ means. Jesus was sent to be broken and poured out for the healing and restoration of the world. It would seem that, if we are to be followers of Jesus today, our own sending might look much the same.

You see, Jesus’ contemporaries were right to expect that the in-breaking of Gods kingdom would be a sudden, earth-shattering thing. What they did not expect, however, was a suffering servant and a sacrificial lamb. In their search for a political messiah and a nationalistic revolution, they missed the whisper in the longing for an earthquake. No, the long-awaited in-breaking of the ‘age to come’ didn’t drop in like an atom bomb; it hit the ground like a mustard seed. It died, cracked open, and that’s when things started to get interesting.

If there is one thing that the story of scripture tells about the character of this God with whom we are dealing, it is that He is frustratingly… organic. Rather than working above, beyond, or outside of his beloved, broken, groaning creation, God has consistently chosen to pursue his purposes in and through human history. God chooses to work in and through… us. He always has. And so when Jesus looks his disciples in the eyes and tells them that he is sending them to their deaths, we ought not be surprised. For, ‘Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” (Jn 12:24) This was the path marked out by Jesus himself, and Paul did not refer to the Church as the ‘Body of Christ’ lightly. Rather, to follow Jesus in participating in the in-breaking of the Kingdom will mean that we, and our communities, will be broken open and poured out for the healing of our world. Spent for the good of our neighbors, our cities; even our enemies. Living Eucharists. 2

So what, we may ask, does it mean to be a ‘Missional Church’? If we were to simply dissect the term itself, we could reasonably say that it refers to a community of people, living as the body – the hands and feet – of Christ, committed to seeing Gods purposes – His will, or ‘mission’ – accomplished here on earth. People, being changed and healed by the work of Jesus in them, who offer their lives to him for the purpose of seeing Heaven itself brought to earth; making the in-breaking of Gods reign a tangible reality in and through the people and communities that God has created them to be. It is not enough to simply claim de facto membership in the ‘Body of Christ’ if we have no intention of using that body the way Christ himself did, or taking that body the places that Christ himself would go. We must realize that, as followers of Jesus, our identity is inseparable from our purpose; our mission.

For ours is a movement and a legacy of mustard seed monuments. Small seeds, placed deep into the soil of the places God has planted us and called us to die for; if we allow ourselves to crack open and be poured out, we find ourselves more full than we could possibly comprehend. Root systems push outward, breaking hard soil, stretching upward and changing the landscape itself. In the fullness of time, that step of sacrifice yields fruit and shelter for future generations and a legacy of the work of a God who glories in small beginnings.

To be a ‘Missional Church’ is to come to grips with the reality that we were never intended to be gathered together for merely our own sake. Rather, in the legacy of Gods covenant with Abraham we have been blessed to be a blessing; called out to be the vehicle through which all of creation may be blessed by the work and heart of God. It is to offer ourselves to the world as the physical evidence of the consummation of a Kingdom where Gods will is done right here in their very midst. It is to embody the character of the God who poured himself out in love so that broken people might find life. It is a call to go; to demonstrate and announce the reality and the ‘good news’ of this in-breaking kingdom to those who have not yet heard. It is to die, and to find real life on the other side. It is to invite others to join us in that journey. To be a ‘Missional Church’ is to be a people who have drawn so close to the heart of God that we find our hearts beating in time with his.

:: My Experience ::

I have been extraordinarily blessed in this season of my life to find myself surrounded by a community that is truly wrestling with what it means to be a ‘missional’ church: Biblically rooted, actively engaged in helping to meet needs of the community; proclaiming the gospel in both word and deed. God is doing some great things in our midst, and I stand in awe of that.

At the same time, we are held back by same things that hinder most suburban, wealthy, predominantly white churches that I know of. Our wallets (and our debts) are too big, our imaginations are too small. We are too comfortable, and too far removed from people who God would call us to love if we could only open our eyes and see them. We are too conservative, too well educated, and too reluctant to risk. We are too competent for our own good. We’re too homogeneous. Our numbers have grown more quickly than our ability to administrate; consequently the vision sometimes gets lost in the shuffle and communication isn’t what it should be.

This is, of course, a gross generalization of a fairly large community. Corporately, though, these are things that we all must own and press into if we are to pursue what God has for us. Overall, though, we’re putting one foot in front of the other. We are committed to this journey, and that’s exciting to see. We are growing in our understanding of what Gods ‘mission’ is and what our role might look like in the place that God has planted us. We’re blind people who are in the process of becoming less so; and I praise God for that every day.

1 N.T. Wright is the first person I have heard use this terminology.

2 Rob Bell used phrase in a teaching segment at a pastors conference at Mars Hill Bible Church called ‘Isn’t She Beautiful?’. He borrowed it from a spiritual director of his. Where it come from before that, I’m not sure; but it’s brilliant.

Relevant Works:

Bartholomew, Craig. Goheen, Michael. ‘The Drama of Scripture: Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story’. Grand Rapids, MI. Baker Academic, 2005

Wright, N.T. ‘The Challenge of Jesus’. Downers Grove, IL. Intervarsity Press, 1999

Wright, N.T. ‘New Exodus, New Creation, New Humanity’. Audio recording posted at: http://www.calvin.edu/worship/idis/theology/ntwright_romans_part2.mp3