A young adult friend tagged a Facebook posting to me the other day. This is a young man raised in a church home, with passionately believing grandparents and parents. And for a time he followed in their footsteps, using his gifts of music to give expression to faith. But then something happened. Disappointment and disillusionment with the church, and the anti-religious writings that seem so daring to the young have combined to cause him to turn away, and to critique the "arrogance and hubris" of many Christians. Now, he says, he's interested in "making the world a better place."
I love him dearly, and I know where his passion comes from. I know in his heart he values his upbringing. And I know he really wants to make the world a better place -- don't we all. His heart is so much in the right place.
I wish he could have come with me last weekend to a conference in Hamilton put on by True City, a network of churches committed to working together 'for the good of the city." What blew me away was that these churches are all evangelical, and several have a long history with fundamentalism and separatism. But they were talking about their mission simply being to witness to the love of God in their neighborhoods, regardless of whether people become Christians. They talked about how important it is to love people, but not treat them as "a project." Their biblical texts were Jeremiah 29-- "Pray for the welfare of the city where God has put you" -- and Abraham's pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah.
The church has a pretty dismal history in many ways, and impressions of that history have stuck in the minds of many outside the church. But I think God is doing some pretty amazing and trasnformative things in many churches, and I pray (patiently) that those like my friend will come to see them.
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Subversive Spirituality
Evan is a boy in my church who celebrated his 9th birthday a couple of weeks ago. Even though his family is far from wealthy, he decided he didn't really need any birthday presents, so he instead he asked his friends to bring money to buy supplies for a school in Nicaragua. Our congregation has been developing a relationship with the Moravian Church in Bluefields, Nicaragua. We had a pastor from there visit with us for two weeks in October.
He expected to collect $150 or so, but word got out to family and he made a little speech at church and within two weeks he had over $1100.
I spend a lot of time and energy fretting because I don't think anybody around here is listening. Obviously, Evan had been listening. And what he heard sank deeply enough into his mind and heart that he did something quite extraordinary for a 9 year old -- forego birthday presents to help others.
I have just been re-reading "The Contemplative Pastor" by Eugene Peterson, and he talks about the "subversive" role of Christian leadership. Peterson describes effective pastoral ministry with these words: "I am undermining the kingdom of the self and establishing the kingdom of God. I am being subversive." This is all done with methods which, in a consumer culture, are widely regarded as pretty ineffective -- listening, talking, pointing to Jesus, worshiping and above all praying. I have often prayed for spiritual renewal in this church, and been disappointed because it didn't sweep through the congregation like wildfire. I was not prepared for that prayer to be answered in the form of a 9 year old boy.
There was a time when Evan's mother was an "affiliate" -- baptized and confirmed, on the membership role, but angry with God and absent from worship for a time. Married in the church, she found her way back. And the fruit of her rediscovery of faith -- well, it has been born in many ways -- but certainly has been born in the commitments of her little boy who simply declined to use his birthday as an occasion to live out a socially conditioned role as a consumer.
In a number of different ways, God has been showing me of late that the most powerful tool in our hands is faithful prayer and a subversive spirit.
He expected to collect $150 or so, but word got out to family and he made a little speech at church and within two weeks he had over $1100.
I spend a lot of time and energy fretting because I don't think anybody around here is listening. Obviously, Evan had been listening. And what he heard sank deeply enough into his mind and heart that he did something quite extraordinary for a 9 year old -- forego birthday presents to help others.
I have just been re-reading "The Contemplative Pastor" by Eugene Peterson, and he talks about the "subversive" role of Christian leadership. Peterson describes effective pastoral ministry with these words: "I am undermining the kingdom of the self and establishing the kingdom of God. I am being subversive." This is all done with methods which, in a consumer culture, are widely regarded as pretty ineffective -- listening, talking, pointing to Jesus, worshiping and above all praying. I have often prayed for spiritual renewal in this church, and been disappointed because it didn't sweep through the congregation like wildfire. I was not prepared for that prayer to be answered in the form of a 9 year old boy.
There was a time when Evan's mother was an "affiliate" -- baptized and confirmed, on the membership role, but angry with God and absent from worship for a time. Married in the church, she found her way back. And the fruit of her rediscovery of faith -- well, it has been born in many ways -- but certainly has been born in the commitments of her little boy who simply declined to use his birthday as an occasion to live out a socially conditioned role as a consumer.
In a number of different ways, God has been showing me of late that the most powerful tool in our hands is faithful prayer and a subversive spirit.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Will our children have faith?
Back after the crazy season.
If you're my age, you might remember that book from the early 80s by Christian education guru John Westerhoff III, Will Our Children Have Faith? I don't remember the book being all that useful, but the question has stuck with me. I guess what's brought it on is having just returned from a week long visit with my 14 month old grandson. His daddy is in seminary, studying for the ministry -- and I really wonder about the future of the church that they will be a part of.
A few other bits of grist for this mill. A while back, I read a short article by Nancy Ammerman in the Canadian version of Touchstone magazine, in which she wondered if Christians (especially the Protestant variety) have not pretty much given up on passing on their story to their children. The Sunday morning worship service with concurrent Sunday School is the norm and that's pretty much all the contact kids have with the church. Jews, Muslims, and other faith communities expect that children will be instructed in their religion outside the main gathering time of the week.
Robert Louis Wilken wrote in the last issue of First Things a perceptive comparison of Christianity and Islam. Islam has always understood itself to be a public religion in the sense that Islamic practice is lived out visibly. In the ideal of the Islamic state, religious practice becomes the cultural and legal norm. Christianity has evolved in a much different way, but, according to Wilken, it now finds itself at a disadvantage in terms of the future because in Europe and North America (excluding parts of the US) it has pretty much disappeared from the public square. Wilken has a particular Roman Catholic slant on things, but he's a wise guy, very learned, and I think he's got a point.
I alternate between days of optimism and days of discouragement and today I'm sliding towards the discouragement end of the scale. Faith is not just assent to a list of beliefs, but the deep imbibing of a narrative, a story, which becomes one's own story only after long exposure. The vast majority of Canadian children have been completely cut off from the Christian story to the point where even the traditional icons of Christmas have little or no meaning to them. And in our churches, we have capitulated to such an extent to aggressively proselytizing Sunday sports and other voracious activities, and have dumbed down our Christian education to accomodate teachers and parents who will make only the briefest commitment of time and effort, and we have abandoned age-old practices like family devotions -- so I really wonder what's going to become of the story in which faith has always taken root and grown.
Anybody out there want to try to cheer me up -- or just commiserate?
If you're my age, you might remember that book from the early 80s by Christian education guru John Westerhoff III, Will Our Children Have Faith? I don't remember the book being all that useful, but the question has stuck with me. I guess what's brought it on is having just returned from a week long visit with my 14 month old grandson. His daddy is in seminary, studying for the ministry -- and I really wonder about the future of the church that they will be a part of.
A few other bits of grist for this mill. A while back, I read a short article by Nancy Ammerman in the Canadian version of Touchstone magazine, in which she wondered if Christians (especially the Protestant variety) have not pretty much given up on passing on their story to their children. The Sunday morning worship service with concurrent Sunday School is the norm and that's pretty much all the contact kids have with the church. Jews, Muslims, and other faith communities expect that children will be instructed in their religion outside the main gathering time of the week.
Robert Louis Wilken wrote in the last issue of First Things a perceptive comparison of Christianity and Islam. Islam has always understood itself to be a public religion in the sense that Islamic practice is lived out visibly. In the ideal of the Islamic state, religious practice becomes the cultural and legal norm. Christianity has evolved in a much different way, but, according to Wilken, it now finds itself at a disadvantage in terms of the future because in Europe and North America (excluding parts of the US) it has pretty much disappeared from the public square. Wilken has a particular Roman Catholic slant on things, but he's a wise guy, very learned, and I think he's got a point.
I alternate between days of optimism and days of discouragement and today I'm sliding towards the discouragement end of the scale. Faith is not just assent to a list of beliefs, but the deep imbibing of a narrative, a story, which becomes one's own story only after long exposure. The vast majority of Canadian children have been completely cut off from the Christian story to the point where even the traditional icons of Christmas have little or no meaning to them. And in our churches, we have capitulated to such an extent to aggressively proselytizing Sunday sports and other voracious activities, and have dumbed down our Christian education to accomodate teachers and parents who will make only the briefest commitment of time and effort, and we have abandoned age-old practices like family devotions -- so I really wonder what's going to become of the story in which faith has always taken root and grown.
Anybody out there want to try to cheer me up -- or just commiserate?
Monday, October 13, 2008
Narrativity
I was motivated to investigate what makes affiliates (people connected to the church but not really involved) tick. The deeper into it I've gone, the more I'm amazed and moved by the mysteriousness of people's stories. It's stuff that just doesn't show up in our social science based analyses of church trends.
A young woman has been attending my church for the last year or so. She's a classic affiliate -- active grandparents, sporadically attending mother, Roman Catholic father. She came back for the most conventional of all reasons -- she had her first baby and wanted her baptized. But as I've gotten to know her, I know there's more than that -- so much more going on in her personal story and struggles -- and I know that God's involved in moving her.
I did a funeral several years ago for a little girl who died suddenly and tragically. Parents were also classic affiliates who came to church once in a while. It's a family who has been through unimaginable suffering and I had the privilege of walking with them for quite a while.
I lost almost complete touch and wondered if they were even in town any more. Then, out of the blue, I receive a Facebook message from him. We share messages occasionally. We've been trying to make plans to go out for coffee. Last Sunday, he shows up to church with the little girl they adopted. He was back yesterday.
This stuff just can't be caught in a bottle, measured or predicted. It`s all part of the richness of individual narratives that I`m realizing more and more are at the heart of ministry -- and the heart of the Gospel.
Alan Roxburgh says that pastors should be like poets -- giving people the language to articulate what God`s doing in their lives, taking people`s questions and helping them to expand so that they can hold a reality infinitely bigger than themselves, relating personal narratives to the Great Narrative of God`s saving acts.
One more thought. I`m beginning to wonder if Christian faith is not something that you need to be older to begin to grasp. I know that goes against all of our desires for a rejuvenated church. And I`m not suggesting for a minute that the faith of younger generations is in any way deficient. But I`m telling you, there are things I`m starting to understand now at 54 that I just couldn`t have comprehended when I was 24 or 34. For one thing, I don`t know if you really begin to see the narrative pattern in your life until you`ve got a bunch of years behind you. And I`m seeing in my church the number of people for whom the Gospel is coming alive for the first time who are in their 40s and 50s. Which is also kind of changing my perspective on effective minsitry.
A young woman has been attending my church for the last year or so. She's a classic affiliate -- active grandparents, sporadically attending mother, Roman Catholic father. She came back for the most conventional of all reasons -- she had her first baby and wanted her baptized. But as I've gotten to know her, I know there's more than that -- so much more going on in her personal story and struggles -- and I know that God's involved in moving her.
I did a funeral several years ago for a little girl who died suddenly and tragically. Parents were also classic affiliates who came to church once in a while. It's a family who has been through unimaginable suffering and I had the privilege of walking with them for quite a while.
I lost almost complete touch and wondered if they were even in town any more. Then, out of the blue, I receive a Facebook message from him. We share messages occasionally. We've been trying to make plans to go out for coffee. Last Sunday, he shows up to church with the little girl they adopted. He was back yesterday.
This stuff just can't be caught in a bottle, measured or predicted. It`s all part of the richness of individual narratives that I`m realizing more and more are at the heart of ministry -- and the heart of the Gospel.
Alan Roxburgh says that pastors should be like poets -- giving people the language to articulate what God`s doing in their lives, taking people`s questions and helping them to expand so that they can hold a reality infinitely bigger than themselves, relating personal narratives to the Great Narrative of God`s saving acts.
One more thought. I`m beginning to wonder if Christian faith is not something that you need to be older to begin to grasp. I know that goes against all of our desires for a rejuvenated church. And I`m not suggesting for a minute that the faith of younger generations is in any way deficient. But I`m telling you, there are things I`m starting to understand now at 54 that I just couldn`t have comprehended when I was 24 or 34. For one thing, I don`t know if you really begin to see the narrative pattern in your life until you`ve got a bunch of years behind you. And I`m seeing in my church the number of people for whom the Gospel is coming alive for the first time who are in their 40s and 50s. Which is also kind of changing my perspective on effective minsitry.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Stories
"I can only answer the question 'What am I to do?' if I can answer the prior question 'Of what stories am I a part?'" Alasdair McIntyre, After Virtue.
That sentence describes something essential about ministry. It's the task of helping people understand their own narrative so that they can bring it into contact with the larger narrative of God.
That sentence describes something essential about ministry. It's the task of helping people understand their own narrative so that they can bring it into contact with the larger narrative of God.
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