Bandits No More

July 20, 2010

Pursuing Holiness

Filed under: Discipleship,Spirituality,United Methodism — rheyduck @ 9:51 pm

One of the defining convictions of the Methodist movement is that it is possible to live a holy life, a life pleasing to God. Methodists have at least given lip service to this conviction since the days of John Wesley in the 18th century.

This conviction was no less popular in Wesley’s day than it is now. Three primary inclinations work against the conviction that holiness is possible. Some people have been badly burned by those who proclaim themselves to be holy. Through those actions, the “holy” life has been imagined to be the “stuffy,” “stilted,” “inauthentic,” “mean-spirited” or “narrow” life. As second inclination that stands against the conviction of possible holy living is that it is not, in fact possible. Try as we might, we will inevitably fail. While the first inclination is usually rooted in ones experience of others, this second inclination is more often rooted in ones experience of oneself. We’ve made the resolutions, we’ve tried to be perfect, yet we fail over and over again. A third inclination looks elsewhere. It sees that language of holiness – like some other words (righteousness, goodness, etc.) – divides people. These people are holy, those people are not. What we ought to say, according to this inclination, is that sure, people mess up sometimes, but deep down, all people are good, all people are already holy. And because the opposite of holy is marginalized, the emphasis on holiness is either muted or rejected.

United Methodists wouldn’t deny either of these kinds of experiences – we’d be foolish to try. But these experiences don’t tell us everything we need to know. Methodists have, however, historically recognized the reality and depth of human sin, that deep down all of us, even the best of us, are estranged from God, and profoundly fractured inside. In spite of this assessment of the human condition, and in spite of these experiences, Methodists remain hopeful about the possibility of holiness.

First, Methodists consider the commands of scripture. At the very least we run into God saying, “Be holy, because I am holy.” Then Jesus had to go and use the “P” word: “Be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect.” While the counsel of despair might come on us at this point, Methodists have tended to draw the conclusion, “If God commands it, surely it must be possible.”

Second, Methodists consider that according to that same book of scripture, the life of holiness is not something we do on our own. My actions, my deed, my character, my performance, my resume – none of these will ever get me to the point where I am holy. Holiness, Wesley and his successors would say, is only possible through the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in us. The good news for us is that God not only commands holiness, but also graciously gives us the resources we need to live it.

It would be nice if, having said that our holiness is something the Holy Spirit does in us, we could just sit back, relax, and wait for it to happen. For holiness to happen, the Spirit will need to (a) remove some things, and, (b) add some other things. Some of this removing and adding is done through our cooperation, our learning to say NO to some of our desires and YES to God’s invitations. Just as marriage requires that we take up a certain set of practices, the life with God that leads to holiness requires us to take up certain practices.

Methodists modify these convictions with one more. The life of holiness, the embodiment of a life of love, joy and peace that is fully pleasing to God, is not only something for which we need the Spirit. It is also something for which we need other people. I will never be holy in isolation from the people around me. I need their input in my life. Sometimes that input is painful. They rebuke me and correct me. They offend me and hurt me, giving me opportunity to practice turning the other cheek and extending forgiveness. Other people, even those far from holiness (or at least far from what we take to be holiness), deliver us from self-righteousness by helping us see ourselves more clearly. Will we listen to them? Can we admit that we might hear the voice of God through them? It’s difficult, but that’s the way the holy life seems to work.

We also refuse to believe that holiness requires dullness. The life most pleasing to God is a life of love, joy, danger and adventure. Those are surely the characteristics we see in Jesus, the one we take as our model for life.

Are you interested in living a holy life? While Methodists believe Jesus is essential to the holy life, we don’t believe we have a corner on the market. In fact, we think we as a church are more likely to be holy the more we partner with disciples in other churches. Just as individuals usually go astray and miss holiness when they go it alone, so it is with churches. If you want live a holy life, try these few ideas. Worship God – not just on your own, but with others. Learn to hear “Yes” and “No.” Those inclined to depression and melancholy have trouble hearing Yes, while those convinced of their own rightness have trouble hearing No. God gives us both, so we need to be able to hear both. Take up some spiritual disciplines – reading the Bible, prayer, service. Finally, find a friend who would like to go on the journey with you, someone to encourage, provoke and challenge you, someone you will let speak into your life. Don’t go it alone.

June 24, 2010

The Best Measure

Filed under: Discipleship,Local church,Ministry — rheyduck @ 4:15 pm

What’s the best measure of effective ministry? What do we look for if we want to figure out whether effective ministry is happening or not?

Our first tendency is to look at the numbers. The bigger the numbers, the higher the effectiveness. Makes sense, doesn’t it? If I take over leadership of a church that has 100 in attendance and after a year there are 200 in attendance, I must be an effective leader, right? Or if I were a youth pastor and all my events were full of excited youth, surely it is a sign of effectiveness. These signs of effectiveness sure look attractive to me. But is my attraction to these bare signs of effectiveness right?

Suppose I am on a road trip. I manage to drive 650 miles a day. Have I been effective? Well, the numbers are there. High mileage, long hours, lots of gas burned. If my purpose is simply to stay on the road, then it looks like I’m being effective. But what if my purpose isn’t merely to be on the road but to arrive at a particular location? If I begin in Houston and intend to drive to Fort Worth and in the course of my journey drive 650 miles a day for a week and end up in Toronto, I may be busy, but I am anything but effective.

Back in my days of doing youth ministry I yearned for the big, exciting youth groups I saw other youth leaders creating. Part of it was that I really wanted to reach people for Christ. My desire for personal glory was also a part of it. I am blessed with a low-key personality that doesn’t lend itself to the extravagant excitement of some ministries. Since our numbers never got much higher than the mid 20s, how could I have ever accounted myself “effective?” Well, it depends on how and what you measure.

Early in my work in youth ministry (and carried over into later ministry roles) I decided that the best measure of effectiveness would be to see how my people were walking with Christ five years down the road. If I had hundreds brimming with excitement at one point and yet all had fallen by the wayside in five years, that’s not effectiveness.

Our main activities in my youth ministry years were bible study and prayer. I take joy in the fact that many of those youth are now, fifteen years later, still walking with Christ, several even in ministry of some sort.

When we think looking at numbers is the best way to measure effectiveness, we can come to the logical conclusion that the one we claim to follow was much less effective than we are. Just look at Jesus – at several points he had huge crowds following him. Sometimes they were so enthusiastic about him they were ready to make him king, then and there. But with his prickly, demanding personality, he managed repeatedly to run off the crowds, leaving only twelve shaky guys and a few women. I’m better than Jesus, aren’t I? I’ve never managed to run off so many people. I’ve never been so troublesome as to inspire the people around me to react in murderous hatred.

But what if numbers are only of intermediate value? Go back to my trip from Houston to Fort Worth. If I drive only 15 miles, I’ve missed my goal. But if I drive 280 miles (you can drive 280 miles from someplace in Houston and reach someplace in Fort Worth) but end up far from Fort Worth, I’ve also missed my goal.

Jesus was about what we call “life change.” He was out to seek and to save the lost. Sure he scattered his seed recklessly. Sometimes even the stony ground looked full of life. But it didn’t last there.

As I lead my church I’m looking for life change. Numbers are great, but they are easily deceptive. Having beautiful, useful, and well maintained buildings and grounds are useful. But they’re not the point. Making the budget without strain and paying our apportionments with ease would be nice, but if there’s no life change, we’re missing the point.

I want to see people fall in love with Jesus to such a degree that their relationship with Jesus becomes the center of their lives. I want to see people devoting their lives to Jesus’ kingdom and its purposes. I want to see people taking up Jesus’ mission as their own.

I don’t want people to only take up a Jesus life for a single instance. But if they never do it for a single instance, they’ll never do it for multiple instances. I want to see people take the first step – and then the next step and the next – with Jesus.

June 14, 2010

Avoiding the Sausage Factory

Filed under: Discipleship,Leadership,Salvation — rheyduck @ 8:17 pm

I like sausage. While I don’t like every kind of sausage I’ve ever tried, I like many of them. From what I’ve heard though, if I want to continue eating sausage I ought to avoid sausage factories. If I visited a sausage factory I’d see what goes into it – all the parts of the animal that people in our culture won’t buy any other way.

Paul addresses most of his epistles to “saints.” The saints in Rome, the saints in Corinth, the saints in Thessalonica, are the recipients of these letters. We think “saint” and “really holy, righteous person” comes to mind. Then we start reading these letters and we discern from Paul’s comments that these folks were not what we’d call “really holy, righteous people.” Yes, they had come to follow Jesus. Yes, they were church members and church leaders. But they didn’t get everything right. A fair number of them still looked like sinners.

We know the message of Jesus was holiness and righteousness. But we make some mistakes when we hear that message and try to instantiate it in our churches.

First, we sometimes thing that Jesus is telling us that being holy and righteous is the way to get in. That’s why I have people in my churches who ask, “Preacher, am I good enough to get in yet?” The answer is always, “No, but it doesn’t make any difference.” It’s not goodness that gets us in, it’s Jesus.

Second,  we expect that righteousness and holiness from others. If we’re insiders of the church, assuming our own righteousness and holiness, we might exclude folks who just aren’t as good as we are. If we’re outsiders contemplating coming in, we might shy away or give up when we discover that the insiders (the folks who are already there) are a bunch of hypocrites, proclaimers of a righteousness and holiness they fail to embody.

An easy response would be to say that righteousness and holiness are completely irrelevant. Since we are saved entirely by Jesus, what we do doesn’t matter. Since what we do doesn’t matter we can do whatever we want. Problem is, that doesn’t look like Jesus (or the rest of the NT) either.

I have a few suggestions as we seek to protect people from the “sausage factory” of the church.

First. we need to be forthright about our sin. Sin is not just a matter of imperfection (we’re only human), not just a small thing. Sin is big enough that it brought Jesus into the world and to the cross. Our sin is never to be easily dismissed or excused.

Second, complete forgiveness is available through Jesus. We confess, he forgives. We repent, we find deliverance.

Third, as we experience the mercy of God found in Jesus, we learn to live lives of gratitude. We let our expression of gratitude crowd out our experience of sinfulness (I’m just a horrible worm, worthy of nothing but hell) and our status of saint (I’m holy and righteous) so that the people around us get the sense that what we are is due to Jesus.

Fourth, we don’t present the church as a utopia – a place for perfect people. There’s a sense in which the common image is true: church is like a hospital. A hospital is a place for healing of the sick; a church is a place of healing for sinners. No sick folk, no hospital; no sinners, no church.

Fifth, it’s usually wise to avoid the particulars when talking to the church as a whole. It’s not usually effective in our setting to shame people into repentance. More often that strategy repels people. So we admit upfront that we are sinners, that we are a place for healing and forgiveness, but observe a sort of spiritual HIPAA when in public.

Sixth, sometimes we have to deal with particulars. We have troublesome church members. We have sin addicts sometimes in prominent positions in the church. This is the heart of the sausage factory. In at least some cases it it is the job of the leader (or leaders) to just bear with people. We seek their deliverance form sin, their healing from its effects. But we don’t advertise the sin or what we’re doing about it.

What do you think? Have you found effective ways to handle the “sausage factory” like aspects of the discipleship process?

March 25, 2010

Non-Fans?

Filed under: Discipleship,Ministry — rheyduck @ 6:58 pm

One of the books I’m reading now is Neil Cole’s Organic Leadership: Leading Naturally Right Where You  Are. If you’re a committed proponent of traditional ways of doing, structuring and leading church, don’t read this book. Keep it far away. In fact, you’d better do that with all Cole’s books. If you’re open to improving your leadership and becoming more effective for the Kingdom, check it out.

In the first chapter Cole says,

The church in the West functions in a pattern similar to that of a dysfunctional relationship. It is locked up in an unhealthy cycle in which the Christian leaders and the regular Christians are codependents. The Christians who are not the church leaders prefer not to take responsibility for the kingdom of God. They want to be free to invest in their own plans rather than Gods. They are the irresponsible party [like the alcoholic or drug addict] in the dysfunctional relationship.

The Christian leaders [that's us pastors], on the other hand, want to be responsible – to a fault. They continue to do all the work of the church, when enables other Christians to be irresponsible. Leaders need to be needed and admired, and often this is the result when they take all the responsibility for kingdom work.

Pastors do all the work of the church? No way! We have Finance and Trustee people that do tons of work. They handle the money, manage the property, make big, important decisions all the time. Surely my theory that Cole is speaking to pastors here is misguided, surely the church has many more leaders.

My reading is that in traditional churches we have too often reduced “church work” to finances, property and management of other resources. We then pass that work off to the non-pastors while we do what we call Kingdom work, the work that seeks to directly influence people for Jesus. Pastors do the ministry, while the laity do the ADministry. Surely you have seen that pattern if you’ve been around traditional churches any length of time.

As long as churches have buildings, property and employees – and the money to maintain them – we’ll need people gifted in management. I don’t want to sell those gifts and callings short. But I don’t want to be part of a system that presupposes that that kind of work is all non-pastors can do.

In my church I have the role of pastor. In that role I have certain responsibilities. Those responsibilities do not include doing all the

  • Preaching
  • Teaching
  • Visiting
  • Encouraging
  • Praying
  • Evangelizing
  • Spiritual Stuff

The more of these things we give away, the more we equip or allow our people to do, the better. It’s better for the Kingdom since there are more workers in the harvest field. It’s better for the people since they get to experience the joy of seeing God at work in their lives. It’s better for the pastors since they are relieved from the burden of doing (or feeling like they need to do) everything.

If you’ve tried giving the ministry away, you’ve experienced the resistance Cole mentions. If you’re like me, you’ve felt it in yourself. Little phrases like, “If you want it done right, do it yourself,” or “I’m the one being held accountable here” may have flitted through your mind.

Perhaps you’ve also experienced resistance from church people who expect you to do everything. “That’s why we pay you! We have busy lives. You have the education and the calling, so go do it. You can give us a report when you’re done, if you like. When we hear complaints we’ll be sure and let you know.” If we don’t really hear phrases like those, we imagine that we do.

It at this point that we need to break free of our co-dependency, our need to be needed, our need for everyone to like us. We can learn from Ben Arment’s comment on allowing a “non-fan” base. Not everyone is going to like us our our ways of doing things. We can kill ourselves over their disapproval, whether real or perceived, whether passive or aggressive, or we can become apathetic. There’s no way we can make everyone happy. Jesus surely didn’t, and if he didn’t, why do we expect to do better? Jesus was so in love with the Father, so committed to the mission of seeking and saving the lost, that that passion (that pathy) made room for apathy in other areas.

“Jesus, Jesus! The Pharisees were upset by what you said?” Did Jesus care? check out Matthew 23 sometime.

“Jesus, your mother and brothers and sisters are outside. They want you to come out to them. ” Did Jesus care? “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers and sisters? The ones who do the will of my Father, that’s who.”

Can’t you hear the passionate, love-driven, apathy?

I know my own weaknesses in this area. I have a lot still to learn, plenty of room for improvement. But I’m choosing the Jesus way, whether it generates a fan base or not. I want his Kingdom purposes to prevail in my life and ministry.

October 22, 2009

Our Audience

Filed under: Discipleship,Ecclesiology,Evangelism,Jesus,church growth — rheyduck @ 7:39 pm

Eric Bryant asks, “Has listening to church attenders led to the decline of the church?”

Declining churches, in his experience, focus on the people they already have. What do they want? How can we keep them happy?

Innovative churches, on the other hand, listen primarily to people outside the church, people they want to reach.

My first thought was: Which was Jesus’ strategy?

If we consider the establishment represented by the scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees to be the insiders of the day, they were clearly not Jesus’ main audience. Jesus spent much of his time with outsiders – people those insiders didn’t think worthy of inclusion in the work of God. The insiders were increasingly peeved at him for his actions.

But that’s too simplistic. From an Israel point of view, all of Israel were the insiders. The Gentiles and the Samaritans were the outsiders. Jesus spent most of his time with the insiders. Sure, he had a few dealings with Gentiles, and at least one with some Samaritans. But most of his ministry, at least as depicted in the Gospels, was with Israel. When he sent out the twelve he explicitly commanded them to go only to the “Lost sheep of Israel.”

Notice he didn’t call them “the sheep of Israel.” They’re the “Lost sheep of Israel.” While all of Israel is, in a sense, on the insider, Jesus puts himself on the outside, and approaches them with the voice of the outsider. Not just any outsider, however, but an outsider whose design was to be the insider who defined their very essence: God.

There’s more to this insider/outsider picture. It is not exactly correct to say Jesus spent most of his time with outsiders. Rather, he spent most of his time with his disciples. These folks, drawn from the periphery of Israel, became a new Israel – the Remnant, to use OT terminology, or to use contemporary jargon, Israel rebooted. It was specifically with these peripheral Israelites, these insiders to the new work of God, that Jesus went to the outsiders, both the “lost sheep of Israel” and to those who were not Israel. Going to those folks was not what these new insiders desired. They were profoundly uncomfortable with the places Jesus took them.

So if the church wants to reach people today, to whom do we listen – insiders or outsiders? That way of putting the question guarantees the wrong answer. Our starting place is Jesus. We begin by listening to Jesus. When we leaders listen to Jesus, Jesus will lead (or shove?) us out of our comfort zone. He will direct us to those on the periphery of the church and to the outsiders.

The trouble with listening to Jesus first, is that comfort (except comforting the broken hearted) never comes into play. We don’t relax in church, comfortable with the way we’ve always done thing. We don’t morph the church into a spiritualized version of what the world calls comfort. We’re taking the message of Life to a lost and broken world.

Church ministry – or innovation – is never about tickling the itching ears of either church members or currently-outside-but-maybe-future-church-members. I know I never would have been reached by the church if they had only sought their own comfort. I also never would have been reached by the church with the Gospel if they had only sought to meet my “felt needs.” I was an American teenager. To the extent that I recognized my felt needs, many of them were misguided. The innovation that built a bridge to me enabled me – over time – to gain a clearer and healthier understanding of my needs (to begin to feel some needs, and to stop feeling other needs) and to see Jesus as not merely the meeter of my needs, but as the Lord of the universe who calls me to follow him.

I want to lead a church that follows Jesus, a church that is willing to tolerate discomfort, change and innovation to be faithful to him, and to connect with people we aren’t now connecting with.

October 15, 2009

Asking Questions

Filed under: Discipleship,Spirituality — rheyduck @ 6:58 pm

From ancient times, theologians have had a motto, “Faith seeking understanding.” As followers of Jesus we don’t start from doubt or from skepticism. We don’t even start from a position of knowing nothing, from a blank slate. We start from faith. Our faith may be at its beginning stages, it may be mature, it may be hard-won, it may be bursting at the seams. But we start from faith. Starting form that position, we then seek to understand that which we believe. Sometimes the understanding comes easily and quickly. Sometimes it takes a long time to gain some understanding, and we’re left with more that we don’t understand. We take more on faith than we can explain. When we see things way, questioning is an expression of faith (as it seeks understanding), not a challenge to it.

In saying this about questioning, I don’t think I’m saying the same thing as some who speak up for doubt as a Christian virtue. Doubts, like questions, are not best dealt with through a strategy of repression. Doubts can lead to questions. Sometimes, however, doubts are merely allowed to lie there. Faith is our starting point. Understanding is our ending point. Seeking is the work of exploration and questioning that leads from the one to the other.

There are some aspects of our faith that we do simply take “on faith.” A doubt or set of doubts might arise, calling attention to one of these aspects we had never closely considered before. (Doubt is by no means the only instrument that calls attention to our assumptions. Other instigators of questioning can be love, joy, and simple curiosity.) In this role doubt is not a fusillade of questions to bring down the edifice of faith, though if doubt is unaccompanied by a desire to understand and an underlying trust in God, it might do just that. Rather, doubt says, “Consider this. It doesn’t seem to fit. We need to look more closely.”

The overcoming of doubts would be the arrival at a state where one could say, “I have considered this issue and explored it to a degree that I have reached satisfactory understanding.” What counts as a “satisfactory understanding” is relative to where we stand in our faith and where the particular issue sits in relation to our faith. If it is a marginal issue, a satisfactory understanding can be still attended by many doubts and continuing questions. The solidity of our faith lies elsewhere. If, however, the issue is of greater weight or more central to our faith, the substantial that satisfactory understanding will need to be.

Some questions we ask are our own, some come from outside us. Some of those that come from outside us do not originate in faith – or at least in anything we recognize as faith. They come to us, to where we stand, as challenges, as provocations to doubt. Sometimes we are in a place where we can help people with these questions. Sometimes we aren’t. When we aren’t it is still of value to be able to direct people toward sources where they might explore their questions (or to put it in a more philosophical way, to question their questions).

I hear too many stories of young people today – or people who were young recently, who tried to ask questions – questions generated by their faith and its interaction with the world and life – who felt discouragement from the church. They (for the most part) find themselves unable to bury or forget their questions. So they choose the alternative – burying or forgetting their faith. I major part of my calling in life is to help people deal with questions. Since I had had so many throughout my life, I am relatively comfortable with other people asking questions. It breaks my heart to see the church losing younger generations – for this or any reason. Part of my calling is to turn this around. For that very reason I encourage people to ask questions and invite them to join me on my own journey of exploration.

August 3, 2009

Perfection

Filed under: Discipleship,Ministry,Perfectionism — rheyduck @ 2:08 am

I’m a perfectionist. But I’m not a perfectionist in every area. I’m also not a perfectionist with everyone. I insist on perfection from myself much more often (or so I think – if you know better, let me know) than from other people. Perfectionism has it’s advantages. When we aim to be perfect, the effects we seek to bring about might be more likely – we get better results. But not always.

Sometimes I need to take up the attitude Dave Browning describes in Deliberate Simplicity: How the Church Does More by Doing Less.  Browning speaks of “excellence” instead of perfection. In his life in ministry he has seen an emphasis on excellence work to exclude people from ministry. He choose instead to push a sense of “good enough.” I like the idea of good enough. “Good enough” leaves room for grace. It allows more people to step up and try something.

The “Good enough” principles fits with the idea that “if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing poorly” (Chesterton?). More often we hear the opposite – “If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing well.”

Actually, I think both principles are true. First, if we never try something for the first time – and quite often when we first try something we’re rather poor at it – then are guaranteed to never be good at it. Second, if something is worth doing, if it is an act that truly produces good and blessing for people, then that act is not only worth doing, but it’s worth doing in a way that maximizes the goodness. Sometimes the “doing poorly” will happen in a context that allows for preparation for a different setting where excellence matters more.

As a preacher, I want my speaking to accomplish something in the lives of my hearers. I cannot be lackadaisical  about my preparation, therefore. I need to put all my effort into doing the best that I can. But I don’t come anywhere near perfection (by my own standards, at least). I’ve noticed over the years, though, that God chooses to work through me in spite of my failure to reach my own standards. I’d guess that the more imperfect I am – and the wider the audience that recognizes my imperfection – the more necessity I have for God to step in. That’s why I want to be sort of perfection-adverse. I don’t want to get to the place where I perceive myself to no longer need God. I also don’t think God wants me to get to the place where I do nothing.

So with Browning, I want to lift up the idea of “good enough.” I want to extend grace to people to try new things, to reach out in new forms of ministry. But I also want them to take the ministry seriously enough that they pour their best into, while they trust God to fill in the necessarily remaining gaps.

July 3, 2009

(Not so) Simple Church

Filed under: Discipleship,Evangelism,Simple Church — rheyduck @ 4:32 pm

I read Thom Rainer’s Simple Church a few months ago. I liked his proposal of having a clear, simple model of making disciples that was shared by the whole congregation (“congregation” is that a Baptist like Rainer means by “church”) so that everything it does is aligned with that model. Compared to the way disciples are accidentally made in so many traditional churches, I found the idea of a simple process attractive.

But I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it.

First, the sub-title of the book claims too much – “Returning to  God’s Process for Making Disciples.” When I read the book, I found a very modern, rationalized, linear model for making disciples – a veritable disciple-making factory. When I look at the way Jesus made disciples in the Gospels – and if I want to discover God’s way, who else ought I to consult? – I don’t see anything as neat and simply reproducible as what I see Rainer proposing. Jesus approached each of his disciples differently. He didn’t run them through a program – even a simple one. He took them with him so they could see what he did and learn to trust him and his way of life.

Second, while I understand the attraction of a simple, linear process, I’ve seen too many who have become disciples by other means. One of the images I use when I talk about the life of discipleship is crossing three lines. As disciples of Jesus we cross a line of commitment to Jesus, a line of commitment to our own spiritual growth (that is, we aren’t just babies waiting for someone to take care of us), and a line of responsibility for the spiritual growth of others. It makes perfect sense to imagine that a disciple would progress in exactly that order. It’s an order commonly adopted in churches – we can see it in the Saddleback baseball diamond with its CLASS system.

But things don’t always work that way. I’ve seen people drawn to faith by starting at the “end” – by joining in ministry toward others. If we ask them why, chances are they won’t say, “This is a natural fulfillment of my love for Jesus.” Rather, they might just say, “I see the need, I have the ability to do something to meet it, so I do it.” While a few might have the thought of earning favor with God through their actions, there is no necessary reason to suppose such a thought.

Todd Hunter argues this same point in Christianity Beyond Belief: Following Jesus for the Sake of Others.  He says,

We are accustomed to seekers following this model: first they believe Christian truth,then they join our churches, and then they take on our practices and behaviors. I suspect, though, that upon reflection we may see that people have come to faith in more varied ways. Today many people are starting at the ‘end’ and practicing their way into the faith. It seems to be working just fine. Others start in the middle by joining a Christian community before they believe.

What happens when we insist on a particular assembly line method of making disciples? At the best, we’ll make some disciples – which is far better than simply limping along making none. But we’ll also miss many people. I think we’ll also miss God, since God appears to lead people to Jesus by multiple means.

So where can we have simplicity? Where can we have a clearly shared model of disciple-making with which we align all our ministries? Put briefly, I think we need to have three elements present at every stage, even if one is in the forefront. We need people to keep in view that Jesus is the center of all we do. We need people to keep in view that Jesus joins us together for his purposes. And we need people to keep in view that his purposes are not merely for our sake, but for the sake of the world.

May 4, 2009

Three Lines

Filed under: Discipleship — rheyduck @ 2:23 am

One of the illustrations I use when I teach on discipleship is the image of three lines. The first line we cross is the line of commitment to Christ. We come to a point where we become followers of Jesus. Crossing the second line is the act of taking responsibility for our own spiritual growth, not expecting it to happen automatically. The third line signifies a commitment to the spiritual well-being of others. That’s the general picture. Now for some more detail.

First, these three lines are ideal. Though they represent a hypothetical normal order of Christian maturity, some people differ. God’s grace works in the life of all people before they come to faith. While it might be most logical or most common for a person to begin by crossing the first line – commitment to Christ – I have seen people who were brought to cross this line by means of taking up spiritual disciplines, the normal way a person takes responsibility for his or her spiritual life. BY grace a person catches a vision for a life with God, and, finding that vision attractive, develops (again by grace) the intention to pursue that vision, and takes up practices through which God then draws him or her to faith.

Likewise, in others God graciously imparts a deep love for people. This love is more than just a feeling of warm affection, but a deep and genuine desire to see another (or others) flourish. At this point there is need for another clarification. When I teach on the third line, taking up a commitment to the spiritual well-being of others, I am taking “spiritual” more broadly than some others. When I seek the spiritual well-being of another person, I am seeking to do my part to help them flourish in God’s Kingdom. This attentiveness seeks to help them experience the fullness of salvation, a healing not only in their relationship with God, but also their relationships with others, with themselves, and with creation. When someone who has not crossed the first or second line begins with this commitment, chances are that such a person will lack the full vision of human flourishing within Kingdom dimensions. Nevertheless, their commitment to the well-being of others (perhaps not even yet conceived as spiritual well-being), is pleasing to God. Once such a person crosses the first line of commitment, the addition of more specifically spiritual dimensions will be a natural addition.

While all three of these types of commitment are necessary steps in Christian maturity, it is not uncommon to find individuals (or even movements) that focus on only one of the three. Some individuals (and some traditions) focus solely on crossing the line of commitment to Christ. It is supposed that getting people to heaven (or into the resurrection life of the future) is the sole goal. Once a person crosses this line, he or she can then move on to the rest of life. Perhaps one’s faith is viewed as a sort of eternal fire insurance, a get into heaven free card, or an expression of personal choice. Crossing the line of faith is a good thing. But I’ve seen too many examples of people who settle for only crossing this line who later appear to give it all up, and lapse into nominal Christianity or even fall away altogether. In crossing the first line they have grasped that Jesus calls us to life. But in neglecting the other two lines they miss that he also calls us to a life, a way of living. A mere decision for Christ simply isn’t enough to sustain people in their faith over the long haul.

The three commitments represented by the three lines are so intertwined in the fullness of the salvation wrought in Jesus, that resting on any one commitment alone, not only causes one to miss the blessing of the others, but also produces a distortion of the one which one has crossed. If I settle for only crossing the first line, coming to faith in Jesus, I miss the true nature of that faith if I fail to take responsibility for living a life with Jesus or fail to recognize that that life with Jesus includes his invitation to become a willing participant in what he is doing in the world and the lives of its inhabitants.

John Wesley claimed that there is “no holiness but social holiness, no religion but social religion.” The context of this claim was an argument with people he termed “mystics.” The mystics taught that the best way to reach maturity in Christ was to go inward and go alone. Wesley, however, noticed in scripture that Jesus’ call, while directed at individuals, was not to a solitary life. He called Peter, James, John, Andrew, Thomas and the others to follow him together. Necessarily, therefore, when we cross the second line, there is a tie to a community, to an actual group of people (actual as opposed to theoretical, a visible fellowship of disciples, not merely an invisible church of true believers). Thus while crossing the second line entails personal practices and disciplines (worship, prayer, immersion in scripture, etc.), these disciplines are also best done when a living connection to other believers is sustained. This salvation we access by faith is something we live out together.

When we cross the third line, the step of taking responsibility for others, we are expressing a lack of willingness to hold the blessings of God for ourselves. We are acting on the recognition that part of what it means to be a Jesus person is to join in his mission (“as the Father has sent me, so I am sending you”). As God produces love in our hearts for our neighbors, we find a passion to see them come to know Jesus and experience the same life and love we have found.

Merit does not come into the picture – it is not the case that when we cross the third line we become worthy, either in advance or retroactively – of God’s grace experienced in crossing the first line. We cross the third line, not to earn God’s favor, but simply because living a life of active intentional blessing to others is part of our salvation. God has called us to much more than just going to heaven when we die – to more than living with Jesus for eternity.

A final observation. From one perspective it might look like crossing the line is understood as something we do. Here I am, I see the line, and in my wisdom decide to cross it. The New Testament perspective, however, compels us to see that the truer understanding recognizes the necessary action of grace throughout the process of recognizing there is a line, coming to the line, deciding the line can be crossed and that I ought to cross it, and then taking the step of crossing it. Every step of the way God is drawing me. Every step of the way God is enabling me to respond, yet at no step compelling me to take that next step. God’s loving grace is invitational more than compulsory.

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