I've been pondering what the Church would look like with unity added. I've been thinking this because I know that it was one of the primary subjects of Jesus' prayer in John 17:20: I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those also who believe in Me through their word; that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You; that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me; it is again emphasized throughout Ephesians 4:1-16, that we as Christians be unified. And yet, our churches throughout our American culture, and maybe worldwide, are so vastly divided I can't even imagine what they would look like if they functioned as if under one banner, one flag...one God...as they all would doubtless claim to do. Unity doesn't even seem to be a realistic priority in the Church as a whole, and it confounds me.
Imagining the global Church as unified is almost as unimaginable as heaven, and this to our shame. It should be imaginable; it should indeed be a reality; it should be something on which we are experts! It should be basic to our faith, assumed rather than dismissed. It should...but it's not. I'm realizing just how vastly divided our factions of faith are. We believe different things; we distrust each other's belief systems; we contradict each other; we shoot each other down and alienate one another. This is so contrary to God's wishes; aside from the strife itself, it sends a message to unbelievers that we are no better than they are.
So what would the Church look like if we were unified? (I'm not saying I know, alas!) Would we have one big mega-church per city? Would we still have our various congregations, but have all the congregations working and fellowshipping together? Would there be twice as many Christians because the unbelievers wouldn't see this message of strife and confusion, but would be drawn to this vast loving entity that so clearly imitates Jesus Christ? Would we all believe the same thing? Would there even be any cults? (If there were, I think they'd be more recognizable as such, because the true Church would make such a strong statement of what Christlikeness would be. Cults would be less attractive because people wouldn't be disenchanted with strifes, divisions, hypocrisy, and other forms of sin that prevail in the Christian faith.) I honestly don't know one answer to these questions from having seen it.
The closest thing that I've seen to a unified Church is the fellowship of the country churches in the very rural area where we've been attending over the last year. They go out of their way to link arms in various opportunities for fellowship among them, and I haven't seen among them the competitiveness and mutual suspicion that otherwise tend to be so prevalent. The pastors from various churches meet together every month; one church has VBS every summer, ours has a New Year's Eve party, another has a Grand Prix that they open to the kids in the community, we've come together to hand out pamphlets that list the offerings of the various churches to new residents in the area, and our pastor has mentored a member of his congregation to become a pastor in one of the other churches. To an extent, it's a tiny picture of what the Church should be all over the world. And in 18 years of being a Christian, I've never seen such cooperation among churches until this last year.
What is it that causes this lack of unity that prevails even after 2000 years? I can see that some of it might be the natural human tendency to want to be superior, to feel that we can look down on someone else and say our church is better, that we have a better grasp, to imagine that God approves of us more, that the others have fallen for a sub-standard and lack for some vital element of faith, as well as an insecurity regarding the size of our church in comparison to others. It might also be that we don't all read the Bible as much as we should, or with humility and desire to interpret it according to God's view and not our own, so we won't come up with endless variations on what it says, causing disagreement among us. It may also be that we don't pray enough--any of us--for unity in the Church. Maybe all of us are some of the problem, in that we're not enough of the solution.
In my own Christian faith, I have experienced a subtle adjustment to the culture of each church we have attended, and when I look back I am struck by just how much differently I have believed in times past, even since accepting the fact that Jesus was my Lord and Savior. These days I am examining various elements of my beliefs and trying to ascertain which are consistent with biblical truth rather than just the biases and assumptions that I have been taught through the years. It's similar to the examination I did when I came to Christ and had to disassemble, evaluate and discard many facets of what I'd thought before. I think that I assumed that the more unfamiliar the ideas were that I encountered as a new Christian, held by the Christians I was meeting, the more they must be Christian rather than secular. As I go along, though, I find that many concepts that I assumed were Christian are more just a human than biblical concept, even though oftentimes people who hold their individual views attempt to justify them with various Scriptures. Perhaps I have been too lackadaisical in examining these beliefs along the way, checking them more clearly against the Scriptures, even though that is a practice that I try to keep with some diligence. Scriptures are so easy to twist to one's own liking even without the conscious intent to deceive; all the more reason to beware and test everything. Psalm 146:3 says, Do not trust in princes, In mortal man, in whom there is no salvation; this is also reiterated in Ephesians 4:14: As a result, we are no longer to be children, tossed here and there by waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, by craftiness in deceitful scheming; but speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the Head, even Christ... I don't think these verses only warn that we beware of men who are trying to deceive, but they take into account that no mere human has a monopoly on truth or on wrong ideas. We need to examine every idea presented to us, no matter how trustworthy its human source may seem, against the Scriptures.
The prevailing "various winds of doctrine" are the cause and the result of a disunified Church. The differences between believers are sometimes subtle and tricky. Sometimes they are vast even within one congregation. If we could together stop focusing on the differences, start focusing on what God's word says, and let everything be done in love, building up the Church rather than puffing up selves within it, I think the Church would grow, God would be pleased, fellowship would increase even between congregations because it would be so much more attractive, iron would have more chance to sharpen iron (and therefore we would be more consistent in our beliefs)...and let me tell you, I'd sure be a lot less confused!
So what can I do to change it? I can pray that unity would increase; I can discourage others from belittling other churches and other believers; I can come up with ideas for fellowship between churches; I can reach out to other believers in spite of differences; I can avoid thinking on differences and isolate my thinking to the things that unite, and see what we can do to love one another more. God's first most important commandments were to love Him with all our heart soul mind and strength and love our neighbor as ourselves. I don't remember much emphasis in the Bible about how we are to check out the differences between us and camp on them.
Showing posts with label churches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label churches. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Pastor Goes on Sabbatical
After 17 years of ministry at our church, our Pastor Ken is going on his first sabbatical coming up this month. I have gotten the impression that this is not fully understood by everyone; people haven't been saying anything particular that I've heard, but one person expressed that she had wanted to hear what the speaker from our denomination came to say (though he barely touched on the matter of sabbaticals--their purpose and what we were to expect to have happen through them). I asked Pastor whether people had supported or opposed it. He said they hadn't said much either way, which I think he supposed meant they didn't know what to think of it. I am supporting it entirely, because I've had the benefit of reading one of Eugene Peterson's books, The Contemplative Pastor, where he described the healing and focus and restoration that came from his church sending him on sabbatical. His lasted a year; Pastor Ken will be gone three months.
I think that people tend to think that such an amount of time "off work" is automatically time that is expected to be filled with travel and entertainment to whatever extent a person can afford it. However, that is not the general goal of a sabbatical, and Pastor Ken has resisted the idea of a trip when it was suggested--he is staying fairly closeby and intentionally not traveling during the time. It is a foreign idea to most of us, but a travel time would add its share of strain and distraction, disallowing the intended time to be spent in reflection, study, and prayer.
Pastor will have just returned from a missions trip that was productive but in all ways strenuous, and he was sick and tired even before he left. I don't expect that he will come back at all rested--probably all the more exhausted. He really needed the sabbatical for months before the missions trip happened. He is the one worker who is almost always physically present at our little church, and though we have another pastor (who works in construction part-time), and we also have capable elders, I get the impression that the bulk of the ministry falls on Pastor Ken--he does most of the sermons and pretty much sees about the running of the church, ministering to the people, and I think he tries to do more than he should be called upon to do because at times there aren't others doing all that needs to be done.
Because the church is small, I think people suppose that the pastor's job is small. If you contrast a small church with a large one, though, a large one has a staff of workers all through the week along with many volunteers and probably more funds for those things that the congregation can't do. Our small church has one full-time pastor, a part-time pastor and an elder board, and then a small congregation. There isn't the staff and there aren't so many people to do or fund the surrounding work. There aren't as many observers who notice the details of the things that need to be done. By the time you subtract the older and crippled folk, the moms who have lots of children that they homeschool, the men who work full-time, and the young people who are overwhelmed with just starting out in life, there are few left who have the time and focus to do the remaining work. The pastor walks in and out of his study and the things to do stare him in the face week after week unless someone does them. A person calls and the pastor answers the phone, rather than a receptionist. No one screens the calls. Someone knocks on the door, and the pastor goes to answer it. His job is probably enormously bigger than that of the pastor in a large church. I think the reason I notice this is because I've been a member of many larger churches, this is the first smaller church I've seen, and I know that the contrast would be staggering to the person experiencing it. It's ironic that the small-church pastor with so much on his shoulders realizes less recognition than the one with the huge support system around him.
Pastor says he needs to get away to re-evaluate, to hear what God has to say, to line his ministry up with God's priorities. I think that he gets pulled in a variety of directions, more than any person should. I am amazed that his temperament stays as calm and quiet and gentle as it does. I think mine would go ballistic in short order with all the daily demands that he faces!
Not only will a sabbatical be good for Pastor Ken, but it will be good for the church. If nothing else, it will help us just to see how big a hole is left when he leaves. I don't think it will be like the picture of removing a boat from the water, where the space the boat took is immediately displaced by water such that it leaves no impact. It will be more like having a huge tractor remove a tree from its soil--it will leave a gaping hole where all the roots, big and small, had become accustomed to the tunnels they had made in their surroundings, winding around rocks and clinging to anything stable. We will keep expecting the tree to be there, and keep falling into the hole. After a little while, we'll learn to bring a bucket of dirt to help fill in the hole. Perhaps by the time Pastor returns, the hole will be filled--there won't be another tree there, but the gap will be such that we're no longer getting hurt by falling into the hole he left. He'll be welcome back, of course, but perhaps in part because of our filling that hole, he'll be able to stand a little taller, digging his roots into some fresh soil. And we'll see him in the new light that comes with the refreshment of his time away and new perspective.
In pondering the matter of the sabbatical, today I googled "pastor sabbatical" and came up first with an article from Christianity Today called Give 'Em a Break--and I think it does a good job at presenting from a first-person description what the benefits are. It also adds some compiled suggestions for providing the money to pay for a sabbatical. Believe me, if our little church can do it, probably any church can!
A Review of the Video: Why You Should Give Your Pastor a Sabbatical, Roy Oswald, Senior Consultant with the Alban Institute quotes its presenter, Oswald, as saying, “90% of what a pastor does is invisible to 90% of the people 90% of the time.” For those who doubt the necessity of this sabbatical, I think perhaps this explains why they would wonder--the work isn't like building a visible brick wall; it's spiritual work. Eugene Peterson describes pastoral work as being like the angles of a triangle: time in prayer, time studying the Scriptures, and time working among the flock; he says that these aren't things that observers can evaluate as to whether they are being done or not. The time these things consume depends on the conscientiousness of the pastor. It's not much wonder that we might not appreciate this work fully, when we can't really see or evaluate the actuality of it.
Not only does the pastor need to do those three main things, but you can imagine how the natural earthly demands of a church, such as the maintenance of the building, might tend to worm their way into this triangle of responsibility and weaken the structure and focus of the pastor's work; every member of the congregation might have their unique opinions, requests, confusions, demands...and if (considering Oswald's quote) they don't see that the pastor has much work to do, they might be surprised and disappointed if he doesn't respond according to their expectations. This video review article is good also, in that it presents what a sabbatical requires of the congregation, and a list of its benefits.
Nine Marks (a website for equipping pastors) has an article about it too, Caring for the Pastor: The Sabbatical. This has good advice for the church, recommending constraints that make the most of the sabbatical time.
I hope that our church will discover all the benefits that comes from this sabbatical. I hope that they will consider providing one every few years from this point on. I hope and expect also that this sabbatical is just what is needed to restore Pastor Ken to a new energy and enthusiasm. I've never seen a pastor who deserved it more.
Today (4/6) Pastor was talking to us about his upcoming sabbatical. I thought of my closing sentence here when in reference to the sabbatical he said something to this effect: "I don't deserve anything. I don't deserve this sabbatical. I have never really felt right taking a paycheck from you." I've never heard this kind of talk from a pastor before--and he receives less pay even now for all he does than any other pastor of ours ever did, even the one 20 years ago who was having dinner at our house and complaining about his low pay--which wasn't all that low, to be quite honest; and that one didn't even really preach from the Bible, and he had a secretary besides.
I think that people tend to think that such an amount of time "off work" is automatically time that is expected to be filled with travel and entertainment to whatever extent a person can afford it. However, that is not the general goal of a sabbatical, and Pastor Ken has resisted the idea of a trip when it was suggested--he is staying fairly closeby and intentionally not traveling during the time. It is a foreign idea to most of us, but a travel time would add its share of strain and distraction, disallowing the intended time to be spent in reflection, study, and prayer.
Pastor will have just returned from a missions trip that was productive but in all ways strenuous, and he was sick and tired even before he left. I don't expect that he will come back at all rested--probably all the more exhausted. He really needed the sabbatical for months before the missions trip happened. He is the one worker who is almost always physically present at our little church, and though we have another pastor (who works in construction part-time), and we also have capable elders, I get the impression that the bulk of the ministry falls on Pastor Ken--he does most of the sermons and pretty much sees about the running of the church, ministering to the people, and I think he tries to do more than he should be called upon to do because at times there aren't others doing all that needs to be done.
Because the church is small, I think people suppose that the pastor's job is small. If you contrast a small church with a large one, though, a large one has a staff of workers all through the week along with many volunteers and probably more funds for those things that the congregation can't do. Our small church has one full-time pastor, a part-time pastor and an elder board, and then a small congregation. There isn't the staff and there aren't so many people to do or fund the surrounding work. There aren't as many observers who notice the details of the things that need to be done. By the time you subtract the older and crippled folk, the moms who have lots of children that they homeschool, the men who work full-time, and the young people who are overwhelmed with just starting out in life, there are few left who have the time and focus to do the remaining work. The pastor walks in and out of his study and the things to do stare him in the face week after week unless someone does them. A person calls and the pastor answers the phone, rather than a receptionist. No one screens the calls. Someone knocks on the door, and the pastor goes to answer it. His job is probably enormously bigger than that of the pastor in a large church. I think the reason I notice this is because I've been a member of many larger churches, this is the first smaller church I've seen, and I know that the contrast would be staggering to the person experiencing it. It's ironic that the small-church pastor with so much on his shoulders realizes less recognition than the one with the huge support system around him.
Pastor says he needs to get away to re-evaluate, to hear what God has to say, to line his ministry up with God's priorities. I think that he gets pulled in a variety of directions, more than any person should. I am amazed that his temperament stays as calm and quiet and gentle as it does. I think mine would go ballistic in short order with all the daily demands that he faces!
Not only will a sabbatical be good for Pastor Ken, but it will be good for the church. If nothing else, it will help us just to see how big a hole is left when he leaves. I don't think it will be like the picture of removing a boat from the water, where the space the boat took is immediately displaced by water such that it leaves no impact. It will be more like having a huge tractor remove a tree from its soil--it will leave a gaping hole where all the roots, big and small, had become accustomed to the tunnels they had made in their surroundings, winding around rocks and clinging to anything stable. We will keep expecting the tree to be there, and keep falling into the hole. After a little while, we'll learn to bring a bucket of dirt to help fill in the hole. Perhaps by the time Pastor returns, the hole will be filled--there won't be another tree there, but the gap will be such that we're no longer getting hurt by falling into the hole he left. He'll be welcome back, of course, but perhaps in part because of our filling that hole, he'll be able to stand a little taller, digging his roots into some fresh soil. And we'll see him in the new light that comes with the refreshment of his time away and new perspective.
In pondering the matter of the sabbatical, today I googled "pastor sabbatical" and came up first with an article from Christianity Today called Give 'Em a Break--and I think it does a good job at presenting from a first-person description what the benefits are. It also adds some compiled suggestions for providing the money to pay for a sabbatical. Believe me, if our little church can do it, probably any church can!
A Review of the Video: Why You Should Give Your Pastor a Sabbatical, Roy Oswald, Senior Consultant with the Alban Institute quotes its presenter, Oswald, as saying, “90% of what a pastor does is invisible to 90% of the people 90% of the time.” For those who doubt the necessity of this sabbatical, I think perhaps this explains why they would wonder--the work isn't like building a visible brick wall; it's spiritual work. Eugene Peterson describes pastoral work as being like the angles of a triangle: time in prayer, time studying the Scriptures, and time working among the flock; he says that these aren't things that observers can evaluate as to whether they are being done or not. The time these things consume depends on the conscientiousness of the pastor. It's not much wonder that we might not appreciate this work fully, when we can't really see or evaluate the actuality of it.
Not only does the pastor need to do those three main things, but you can imagine how the natural earthly demands of a church, such as the maintenance of the building, might tend to worm their way into this triangle of responsibility and weaken the structure and focus of the pastor's work; every member of the congregation might have their unique opinions, requests, confusions, demands...and if (considering Oswald's quote) they don't see that the pastor has much work to do, they might be surprised and disappointed if he doesn't respond according to their expectations. This video review article is good also, in that it presents what a sabbatical requires of the congregation, and a list of its benefits.
Nine Marks (a website for equipping pastors) has an article about it too, Caring for the Pastor: The Sabbatical. This has good advice for the church, recommending constraints that make the most of the sabbatical time.
I hope that our church will discover all the benefits that comes from this sabbatical. I hope that they will consider providing one every few years from this point on. I hope and expect also that this sabbatical is just what is needed to restore Pastor Ken to a new energy and enthusiasm. I've never seen a pastor who deserved it more.
Today (4/6) Pastor was talking to us about his upcoming sabbatical. I thought of my closing sentence here when in reference to the sabbatical he said something to this effect: "I don't deserve anything. I don't deserve this sabbatical. I have never really felt right taking a paycheck from you." I've never heard this kind of talk from a pastor before--and he receives less pay even now for all he does than any other pastor of ours ever did, even the one 20 years ago who was having dinner at our house and complaining about his low pay--which wasn't all that low, to be quite honest; and that one didn't even really preach from the Bible, and he had a secretary besides.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Fellowship and Unity Among the Churches
Tonight we went to a Pine Car Derby at a neighboring church. The churches in Granite Falls do something wonderful that is new to me in all our 22 years of attending churches: they work together, they interact, they support one another, they love each other's congregations, they fellowship together, they show the unity of Christ between congregations. The pastors feel perfectly comfortable with this.
In fact, they're going to work together to spread a compiled information sheet about all the churches to the residents in the area. Volunteer members from each congregation will participate, and it's not to compete but to collaborate.
I talked to one of the women, I think her name was Charlotte, from this church tonight. She was thinking aloud about other ideas that she thought her church might plan for the summer: fellowship gatherings by bonfires outside in the summer; a potluck and hymn-sing (I've heard of them, never seen one)...then I talked with another woman, a grandmother whose name I think was Diane (maybe not). She was just bubbling over with ideas for children's get-togethers, including an upcoming one that was actually in the works to happen in a couple of weeks with pizza and games. As we went out to the parking lot along with her husband, he was talking about how he'd like to have an overnighter by a bonfire for the kids in the summer, or something. You could tell they were all just bubbling with ideas for community fellowship, and it didn't seem that they'd been told to think up ideas, that they had been brainstorming and comparing notes, from anything I could tell.
Our church had a New Years' Eve party with dodge-ball in our sanctuary. People from other churches and from the English-as-a-Second-Language classes came. Our pastor gets together with pastors from the other churches for fellowship breakfasts, and the Community Bible Church congregation and ours get together for a number of gatherings during the year; in fact the pastors and two other congregation members are heading out on a missions trip to a very far and remote area (with no particular tourist appeal) within the month.
So what gives these churches freedom to fellowship between themselves when the churches I've attended in the past would never have done such things? I think it is the pastors' contentment with the size of their congregations. They aren't striving to be huge; they trust God in His direction of people to their church or others as He will. They are aware that knowing their whole congregation is a huge plus. They aren't afraid that they'll lose their congregation to another church, and they aren't intending to draw people from another church's congregation.
Tonight's Pine Car Derby was a very sweet and simple interaction between the two church families; it wasn't costly or ornate. It isn't that everyone showed up, but it was a great opportunity for fellowship. I got to talk with people from our church and theirs, and I think the unity in Christ had to be a blessing not only for those who visibly attended, but for Christ Himself.
In fact, they're going to work together to spread a compiled information sheet about all the churches to the residents in the area. Volunteer members from each congregation will participate, and it's not to compete but to collaborate.
I talked to one of the women, I think her name was Charlotte, from this church tonight. She was thinking aloud about other ideas that she thought her church might plan for the summer: fellowship gatherings by bonfires outside in the summer; a potluck and hymn-sing (I've heard of them, never seen one)...then I talked with another woman, a grandmother whose name I think was Diane (maybe not). She was just bubbling over with ideas for children's get-togethers, including an upcoming one that was actually in the works to happen in a couple of weeks with pizza and games. As we went out to the parking lot along with her husband, he was talking about how he'd like to have an overnighter by a bonfire for the kids in the summer, or something. You could tell they were all just bubbling with ideas for community fellowship, and it didn't seem that they'd been told to think up ideas, that they had been brainstorming and comparing notes, from anything I could tell.
Our church had a New Years' Eve party with dodge-ball in our sanctuary. People from other churches and from the English-as-a-Second-Language classes came. Our pastor gets together with pastors from the other churches for fellowship breakfasts, and the Community Bible Church congregation and ours get together for a number of gatherings during the year; in fact the pastors and two other congregation members are heading out on a missions trip to a very far and remote area (with no particular tourist appeal) within the month.
So what gives these churches freedom to fellowship between themselves when the churches I've attended in the past would never have done such things? I think it is the pastors' contentment with the size of their congregations. They aren't striving to be huge; they trust God in His direction of people to their church or others as He will. They are aware that knowing their whole congregation is a huge plus. They aren't afraid that they'll lose their congregation to another church, and they aren't intending to draw people from another church's congregation.
Tonight's Pine Car Derby was a very sweet and simple interaction between the two church families; it wasn't costly or ornate. It isn't that everyone showed up, but it was a great opportunity for fellowship. I got to talk with people from our church and theirs, and I think the unity in Christ had to be a blessing not only for those who visibly attended, but for Christ Himself.
Friday, February 08, 2008
Knowledge, Love and the Building of the Church
This post was inspired by a number of circumstances in my life, as you may observe--the last being a call from my daughter, telling of a prominent Christian speaker who was tearing down the beliefs of other Christians, even calling their salvation into question, based on his view, which they don't share, of the Scriptures.
Tim will often ask me, pondering the thought processes of some animal that has caught his attention, how smart that animal is. "Mom, how smart is a barnacle?" And not knowing of any way to assess the intelligence of such an animal, even though I suspect its intelligence to be quite limited, I don't know how to answer him. So I say something to the effect that, "It is just as smart as God intended it to be--it has all that it needs to live its life in its particular surroundings." It's true. It's smarter than I am about how it needs to go about living its life--I would never know how I could fasten my head permanently to a rock and shovel food from the ocean into my mouth, as I recall being told they live their life. (How anyone knew that the glued-on part was the head or that the feathery part that came out was the foot, I remember wondering at the time that someone told me that at an oceanography camp I attended as a kid. I think someone must have assumed something along the way about these strange animals.) The important thing is, the barnacle knows what it's doing and can survive the toughest storms because it does just exactly what God intended it to do--no more and no less.
In my last entry I blogged about joy and how my emotions seem to outpace my knowledge or wisdom; just lately I have been reading A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, by Eugene Peterson. It's a book covering the Song of Ascents, the Psalms that the Hebrews sang as they would go up to Jerusalem for the feasts. I find many of these psalms amazingly comforting, something in which the soul can rest--and the further explanations given expand on this, such that I often have to pause to ponder and pray, because they address an issue of one kind or another in my life. In fact I'm wondering whether that has been the catalyst that has brought the joy that I've been experiencing lately; probably so, because even in the reading I feel it.
The latest psalm it has covered is Psalm 131; in NASB it says, "O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; Nor do I involve myself in great matters, Or in things too difficult for me. Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, My soul is like a weaned child within me. O Israel, hope in the LORD From this time forth and forever."
The writer is, forgive me for the simplicity and perhaps seeming insult, like the barnacle I described above. I don't mean it as an insult, but as an illustration of a proper response to God's design. The writer is submitting himself to just what God designed for his life. He's not seeking out knowledge or wisdom that is beyond God's design for his life, beyond his functioning point. He finds contentment in knowing enough, in being what he is supposed to be, and he rests.
I realize that in my blog entries, sometimes I grapple with things that are on the edge of (or maybe beyond) my understanding. I am inclined to ponder them to a point and realize that there's much beyond what I can fathom, but what God gives me is useful for my life. It's important to ponder God, to wrestle with the truths that are in His word such that a person can properly apply the Word to his life and live it out in obedience. But I don't know that we are all called to be much beyond that, theorizing and concluding things that aren't necessarily specified clearly in the Scriptures.
In John 17:33, in Jesus' High Priestly prayer, one of the priorities that is uppermost in His mind is that we as believers are unified. It is one of the things He most cares about when He prays to the Father, or else in that prayer He no doubt would have said something that mattered more. He wants us to know it, too, or it wouldn't have been included in the Scriptures. Unity is of uppermost importance to God. In Ephesians 4, the unity of believers is described as imperative for the building of the Church, which I believe is central to the will of God. When we wrestle beliefs out of the Scriptures that aren't clearly there, and those beliefs separate us from other believers, that tears down the unity and is destructive to the building process. Not only is the building of the Church described in Ephesians, one of the great things that Jesus has accomplished that is described there is the tearing down of the dividing wall between the Jews and the Gentiles, before the start of the building with Himself as the cornerstone is even mentioned. What we need is to function the way God wants us to, basing all that we believe on what the Scriptures clearly say and allowing for the different interpretations that don't conflict with these. To separate with other believers based on our own unsubstantiated theories is to build up a new dividing wall; it appears to me that it smacks directly against the will of God. "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up"--and it's vital that we love and build up others, and work toward building up the Church as a whole, rather than let ourselves be puffed up to our own glory.
Tim will often ask me, pondering the thought processes of some animal that has caught his attention, how smart that animal is. "Mom, how smart is a barnacle?" And not knowing of any way to assess the intelligence of such an animal, even though I suspect its intelligence to be quite limited, I don't know how to answer him. So I say something to the effect that, "It is just as smart as God intended it to be--it has all that it needs to live its life in its particular surroundings." It's true. It's smarter than I am about how it needs to go about living its life--I would never know how I could fasten my head permanently to a rock and shovel food from the ocean into my mouth, as I recall being told they live their life. (How anyone knew that the glued-on part was the head or that the feathery part that came out was the foot, I remember wondering at the time that someone told me that at an oceanography camp I attended as a kid. I think someone must have assumed something along the way about these strange animals.) The important thing is, the barnacle knows what it's doing and can survive the toughest storms because it does just exactly what God intended it to do--no more and no less.
In my last entry I blogged about joy and how my emotions seem to outpace my knowledge or wisdom; just lately I have been reading A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, by Eugene Peterson. It's a book covering the Song of Ascents, the Psalms that the Hebrews sang as they would go up to Jerusalem for the feasts. I find many of these psalms amazingly comforting, something in which the soul can rest--and the further explanations given expand on this, such that I often have to pause to ponder and pray, because they address an issue of one kind or another in my life. In fact I'm wondering whether that has been the catalyst that has brought the joy that I've been experiencing lately; probably so, because even in the reading I feel it.
The latest psalm it has covered is Psalm 131; in NASB it says, "O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; Nor do I involve myself in great matters, Or in things too difficult for me. Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, My soul is like a weaned child within me. O Israel, hope in the LORD From this time forth and forever."
The writer is, forgive me for the simplicity and perhaps seeming insult, like the barnacle I described above. I don't mean it as an insult, but as an illustration of a proper response to God's design. The writer is submitting himself to just what God designed for his life. He's not seeking out knowledge or wisdom that is beyond God's design for his life, beyond his functioning point. He finds contentment in knowing enough, in being what he is supposed to be, and he rests.
I realize that in my blog entries, sometimes I grapple with things that are on the edge of (or maybe beyond) my understanding. I am inclined to ponder them to a point and realize that there's much beyond what I can fathom, but what God gives me is useful for my life. It's important to ponder God, to wrestle with the truths that are in His word such that a person can properly apply the Word to his life and live it out in obedience. But I don't know that we are all called to be much beyond that, theorizing and concluding things that aren't necessarily specified clearly in the Scriptures.
In John 17:33, in Jesus' High Priestly prayer, one of the priorities that is uppermost in His mind is that we as believers are unified. It is one of the things He most cares about when He prays to the Father, or else in that prayer He no doubt would have said something that mattered more. He wants us to know it, too, or it wouldn't have been included in the Scriptures. Unity is of uppermost importance to God. In Ephesians 4, the unity of believers is described as imperative for the building of the Church, which I believe is central to the will of God. When we wrestle beliefs out of the Scriptures that aren't clearly there, and those beliefs separate us from other believers, that tears down the unity and is destructive to the building process. Not only is the building of the Church described in Ephesians, one of the great things that Jesus has accomplished that is described there is the tearing down of the dividing wall between the Jews and the Gentiles, before the start of the building with Himself as the cornerstone is even mentioned. What we need is to function the way God wants us to, basing all that we believe on what the Scriptures clearly say and allowing for the different interpretations that don't conflict with these. To separate with other believers based on our own unsubstantiated theories is to build up a new dividing wall; it appears to me that it smacks directly against the will of God. "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up"--and it's vital that we love and build up others, and work toward building up the Church as a whole, rather than let ourselves be puffed up to our own glory.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Value of the Custom-Crafted Sermon
Last Sunday our sermon was covering Ephesians 2:17-22, and how we are fellow citizens with the saints, citizens of God's Kingdom; also how we belong to God's household; that earthly government and earthly family is not our salvation (and I would add, it's a good thing, too!). I was amazed, for one, on how it corresponded to the very thoughts of my last blog entry regarding a heavenly citizenship, though set in entirely different context and thought process...though because our church is studying Ephesians throughout, I've been reading and rereading Ephesians for quite a while now, and I suppose I would be gathering some of the same ideas from it whether consciously or otherwise. The pastor had also said how the wall of division goes up any time we have something that rises above Christ as important in our lives, whether job, gender, or anything.
The thing I noticed was how the sermon pertained to many timely needs, how it pertained to the very answer I was trying to articulate to a friend who doubted that Katie should be off at college but felt instead should be home with family. The matter of the dividing walls that we make for ourselves really struck Tina, our homeschool music teacher, as a very useful thought--she was going to be gathering with some of the mothers from our 200+ child music classes. These music families come from a variety of backgrounds and many of them are being dragged down in divisiveness over trivial issues to Tina's great grief and frustration. Who knows how many of the congregation were feeling that applicable nature of the sermon? I had barely scratched the surface to find so much!
The way that the sermon confronted so many timely issues is an illustration of how the Holy Spirit works in the pastor as he crafts the sermon for the purposes of his own congregation. No ready-made work from anywhere could reach the hearts of the people like one that was custom-designed with the Holy Spirit's fresh and creative breath upon it for those particular people at that particular time. It makes me anticipate the hearing of it all the more, and the pondering of it later all the more potentially fruitful. How great it is that after my wrestling with whether I could think of a refreshed start in building on the foundation of Christ in my faith and its application, that Sunday I should hear a sermon affirming...my citizenship is in heaven. And I eagerly await my Savior from there!
The thing I noticed was how the sermon pertained to many timely needs, how it pertained to the very answer I was trying to articulate to a friend who doubted that Katie should be off at college but felt instead should be home with family. The matter of the dividing walls that we make for ourselves really struck Tina, our homeschool music teacher, as a very useful thought--she was going to be gathering with some of the mothers from our 200+ child music classes. These music families come from a variety of backgrounds and many of them are being dragged down in divisiveness over trivial issues to Tina's great grief and frustration. Who knows how many of the congregation were feeling that applicable nature of the sermon? I had barely scratched the surface to find so much!
The way that the sermon confronted so many timely issues is an illustration of how the Holy Spirit works in the pastor as he crafts the sermon for the purposes of his own congregation. No ready-made work from anywhere could reach the hearts of the people like one that was custom-designed with the Holy Spirit's fresh and creative breath upon it for those particular people at that particular time. It makes me anticipate the hearing of it all the more, and the pondering of it later all the more potentially fruitful. How great it is that after my wrestling with whether I could think of a refreshed start in building on the foundation of Christ in my faith and its application, that Sunday I should hear a sermon affirming...my citizenship is in heaven. And I eagerly await my Savior from there!
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Getting back to foundational faith
We have been attending our present church for about seven months. During that time I have been brought to realize the need to reevaluate my thought processes and assumptions about my faith. I have been a Christian for 18 years, and yet, somehow I think I have been more American than Christian. I have to remind myself at times of the seemingly obvious truth that Christianity is not primarily American; in fact it is not this-worldly at all, it is not global, it is not multi-national; it doesn't place its trust in any mere human being or organization; it is heavenly, and it corresponds only to heavenly ideals. So many times I have presented a thought to our pastor and he responds with a question regarding why I believe that, and I am often stymied. I've seen it happen with others as well; I think it is a healthy thing to have these assumptions challenged, so that we can give a reason for the hope that is within us without coloring it with earthly influences.
How encumbered we are in the culture in which we live! And yet the Bible warns us to not be conformed to the pattern of this world and to be transformed by the renewing of our minds...this is a huge challenge, as I see it.
How can we not be conformed to the pattern of this world somewhat, when we live in it? We are to be in it but not of it. This is fairly easy to define when using extreme terms, such as that a Christian would not generally find himself comfortable with some worldly behaviors such as carousing and breaking the Ten Commandments in the more obvious ways; but what about balancing material concerns, stewardship, living out the fruit of the Spirit, being salt and light...there are Scriptures that address these kinds of things, but I think they may be more subject to interpretation than the Ten Commandments (though I realize Jesus showed the proper interpretation of those also to be more inward and complex than what the Jews saw in the Old Testament); I see how fine that line can be in my life these days.
I realize for example that I need to strive to maintain our home so that it is a haven and a good representation of stewardship in Christ; but at what point does that detract from my being a good neighbor who can serve another, who can not be distracted so much with my own needs that I ignore the spiritual or physical needs of my neighbor, my brother, my friend, even my enemy, all for whom Christ died? It is a hard balance and as we work to make our house attractive to sell, I realize we're improving its appeal to align with the more materialistic bent of today's buyer. Is this wrong, or is it right to make it as beautiful as possible, so that we get a good price, so that we are less likely to need to rely on others financially in the future, as we get older and our finances may become more strained? Is this not trusting God, or is it being a good steward? These are things I have to address in my own conscience, and I can only do it by praying and asking for God's help and guidance, because the Scriptures that come to my mind could be applied either way on it.
So far in this project, I do believe that God has helped and blessed us, as we have been guided to excellent workmen and the project has been as stressless as any I've heard of, and it's been as affordable as I could have imagined. I hope to think this is an indicator that God is not distressed by what could be viewed as materialism. I've prayed that He would close the doors to it if it weren't His will, and yet they've been wide open.
This seems to me to be a good example of wrestling with how much we conform to the pattern of this world. How the Scriptures are lived out, whether according to American values, or heavenly ones, that is the challenge. Even what church we choose to attend can influence, and be influenced by, our stand on the Scriptures. Are we consumers as we choose a church? Is the church we attend chosen because it is comfortable, because it is easy to agree with what is taught there, because it has a smorgasbord of programs that appeal to all the age groups of our family? Or do we attend because it in fact challenges our comfort and our assumptions regarding our faith?
I remember from long ago a family about whom I kept hearing sniping comments, who had undergone some financial challenges along with a career change, and I prayed that God would help me understand the truth about them. I'm not positive that a dream I had about them was God's answer to this prayer, but I dreamt that the huge brick house that they lived in had become a house with clear walls, with a layer of bricks only at the base, at the foundation. I saw that they had needed to start over again, rebuilding their lives from the foundation, brick by brick. They had huge challenges and the sniping comments were the last thing they needed. I relate that picture to my faith--I feel the need to bring it down to the foundational truths, and build it up brick by brick, contrary to the culture, and with God's help, to rebuild it in line with heavenly priorities and ideals. It seems so disheartening to start over, and yet I think that a clarified view of God's purposes will be the end reward; this is such a worthwhile incentive. How well I will continue on this rebuilding, keeping heavenly priorities in mind, persevering to the end I don't know, but I hope it will continue and that I will have a clearer understanding of how to live out my faith in such a way as to please God and love my neighbor.
How encumbered we are in the culture in which we live! And yet the Bible warns us to not be conformed to the pattern of this world and to be transformed by the renewing of our minds...this is a huge challenge, as I see it.
How can we not be conformed to the pattern of this world somewhat, when we live in it? We are to be in it but not of it. This is fairly easy to define when using extreme terms, such as that a Christian would not generally find himself comfortable with some worldly behaviors such as carousing and breaking the Ten Commandments in the more obvious ways; but what about balancing material concerns, stewardship, living out the fruit of the Spirit, being salt and light...there are Scriptures that address these kinds of things, but I think they may be more subject to interpretation than the Ten Commandments (though I realize Jesus showed the proper interpretation of those also to be more inward and complex than what the Jews saw in the Old Testament); I see how fine that line can be in my life these days.
I realize for example that I need to strive to maintain our home so that it is a haven and a good representation of stewardship in Christ; but at what point does that detract from my being a good neighbor who can serve another, who can not be distracted so much with my own needs that I ignore the spiritual or physical needs of my neighbor, my brother, my friend, even my enemy, all for whom Christ died? It is a hard balance and as we work to make our house attractive to sell, I realize we're improving its appeal to align with the more materialistic bent of today's buyer. Is this wrong, or is it right to make it as beautiful as possible, so that we get a good price, so that we are less likely to need to rely on others financially in the future, as we get older and our finances may become more strained? Is this not trusting God, or is it being a good steward? These are things I have to address in my own conscience, and I can only do it by praying and asking for God's help and guidance, because the Scriptures that come to my mind could be applied either way on it.
So far in this project, I do believe that God has helped and blessed us, as we have been guided to excellent workmen and the project has been as stressless as any I've heard of, and it's been as affordable as I could have imagined. I hope to think this is an indicator that God is not distressed by what could be viewed as materialism. I've prayed that He would close the doors to it if it weren't His will, and yet they've been wide open.
This seems to me to be a good example of wrestling with how much we conform to the pattern of this world. How the Scriptures are lived out, whether according to American values, or heavenly ones, that is the challenge. Even what church we choose to attend can influence, and be influenced by, our stand on the Scriptures. Are we consumers as we choose a church? Is the church we attend chosen because it is comfortable, because it is easy to agree with what is taught there, because it has a smorgasbord of programs that appeal to all the age groups of our family? Or do we attend because it in fact challenges our comfort and our assumptions regarding our faith?
I remember from long ago a family about whom I kept hearing sniping comments, who had undergone some financial challenges along with a career change, and I prayed that God would help me understand the truth about them. I'm not positive that a dream I had about them was God's answer to this prayer, but I dreamt that the huge brick house that they lived in had become a house with clear walls, with a layer of bricks only at the base, at the foundation. I saw that they had needed to start over again, rebuilding their lives from the foundation, brick by brick. They had huge challenges and the sniping comments were the last thing they needed. I relate that picture to my faith--I feel the need to bring it down to the foundational truths, and build it up brick by brick, contrary to the culture, and with God's help, to rebuild it in line with heavenly priorities and ideals. It seems so disheartening to start over, and yet I think that a clarified view of God's purposes will be the end reward; this is such a worthwhile incentive. How well I will continue on this rebuilding, keeping heavenly priorities in mind, persevering to the end I don't know, but I hope it will continue and that I will have a clearer understanding of how to live out my faith in such a way as to please God and love my neighbor.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The Beauty of Church, and Change
The other night as I was getting Tim off to bed, as he was lying there winding down for the night, he was reflecting on our church. He sighed (he does that when he's content) and said how much he loves our ugly old church building. He loves that it's old. He loves how worn out it is. I've been thinking the same thing.
The building is cinder block and covered in about 20 coats of yellow paint. It was built about 60 years ago when the original structure burned down. The front steps are of concrete covered in indoor-outdoor "grass" type carpeting...and it's worn through to the concrete...and the concrete is worn to a rounded edge.
When our pastor was visiting our house one night, we showed him a plate that was given to us as a momento of our wedding. We were married in a very traditional chapel-type church in Hillsboro, Oregon, the Old Scotch Church, and the plate had a drawing of the church on it. Pastor Ken looked at the plate and with a wry smile, he said, "We couldn't really do that with our church." I suggested that we could, with a doily over it.
Last night when we were describing our church building to some friends over dessert and dominoes, their grown son said regarding the worn front steps, "That's a good thing." And it is. Those steps show the impact of every footstep that has gone in and out of that church over the years, a testimony to a long continuity (if a small congregation) of faithful believers. The church has remained tiny, and I think it's because of the visual lack of initial appeal in the outside of the building; but the tiny congregation is as sweet as any I've seen. Some friends of ours seemed to be pretty put off by the outward appearance, and that's fine.
We have plans to build a new facility, and it promises good things--the property that the church was given overlooks a beautiful small lake that you see driving into Granite Falls. It's a very appealing site (aside from the mosquitos, which loved the taste of my blood last summer). I can't help but dread a little bit the changes that will undoubtedly occur on the occasion of its opening. There will be a whole population of people who will no longer be put off by the building's appearance. A new building seems like it will unavoidably change the character of the church in general. We've seen a couple of times what is called the "new paint syndrome" of opening a new church building for a church that has already existed beforehand elsewhere, and the growth of the congregations as a result.
Yet who can complain? It is a good thing. It's God's provision for His purpose. If a person is put off by appearance, and conversely attracted by appearance, I'm sure that accomplishes something in sifting people according to the time and place and purpose that God has in mind. If the appearance of a new building is the cultural appeal that brings more people in to hear the gospel presented, so be it. Just so long as the biblical message of the church isn't weakened as a result in hopes of growing the numbers rather than strengthening the spirits of those who attend, who can argue?
That wasn't all that our Tim had to discuss about the church. Last night, after having talked with our friends and telling them about our church, Tim was pondering with pleasure the idea of coming to church this morning. I told him, "I hope the main thing you're looking forward to is the fact that we go to worship God, not that your friends are there." He understood that, and claimed that was in fact his primary reason, but he also went on to say, "I bet Pastor Ken has never said a swear word." I was surprised, partly because I thought he'd bring up something about the friends his age, but he is strongly impressed by the fact that the pastor has befriended him personally. I said that chances were that the pastor had in fact sworn before, that he is only human, after all. He said, "Well, you think he's pretty good." Yes, I respect, admire and will try to imitate the way that he lives out Christ in his life; I haven't found fault with him. Still, I don't make him out to be beyond what humans are capable of. It's easy to put leaders on a pedestal, and I've seen it done with very bad results before. We have to realize the human limitations of everyone, holding them accountable to the perfect standard of faith in Christ, but realizing that all fall short; it's not fair to anyone to expect them to be perfect.
So we look forward to Sundays, if you haven't noticed. It's solid teaching, there's a very sweet fellowship, and I treasure each time we're there. I walk up those worn concrete steps and open the heavy, battered wooden door with great anticipation. The character of the church may change with time, but as long as God is at the center of what goes on there, it's the way it should be.
Well, I stand corrected. I told Kit, Pastor Ken's wife, about Tim's comment, and she said, "He's right. I can vouch for that. I've never heard him swear, and he's never sworn. It isn't that he holds it back, it just isn't there." Well, there you are. I guess Tim could tell, somehow, in Pastor's gentle demeanor. That pedestal...it can be pretty hard to kick out of place sometimes!
The building is cinder block and covered in about 20 coats of yellow paint. It was built about 60 years ago when the original structure burned down. The front steps are of concrete covered in indoor-outdoor "grass" type carpeting...and it's worn through to the concrete...and the concrete is worn to a rounded edge.
When our pastor was visiting our house one night, we showed him a plate that was given to us as a momento of our wedding. We were married in a very traditional chapel-type church in Hillsboro, Oregon, the Old Scotch Church, and the plate had a drawing of the church on it. Pastor Ken looked at the plate and with a wry smile, he said, "We couldn't really do that with our church." I suggested that we could, with a doily over it.
Last night when we were describing our church building to some friends over dessert and dominoes, their grown son said regarding the worn front steps, "That's a good thing." And it is. Those steps show the impact of every footstep that has gone in and out of that church over the years, a testimony to a long continuity (if a small congregation) of faithful believers. The church has remained tiny, and I think it's because of the visual lack of initial appeal in the outside of the building; but the tiny congregation is as sweet as any I've seen. Some friends of ours seemed to be pretty put off by the outward appearance, and that's fine.
We have plans to build a new facility, and it promises good things--the property that the church was given overlooks a beautiful small lake that you see driving into Granite Falls. It's a very appealing site (aside from the mosquitos, which loved the taste of my blood last summer). I can't help but dread a little bit the changes that will undoubtedly occur on the occasion of its opening. There will be a whole population of people who will no longer be put off by the building's appearance. A new building seems like it will unavoidably change the character of the church in general. We've seen a couple of times what is called the "new paint syndrome" of opening a new church building for a church that has already existed beforehand elsewhere, and the growth of the congregations as a result.
Yet who can complain? It is a good thing. It's God's provision for His purpose. If a person is put off by appearance, and conversely attracted by appearance, I'm sure that accomplishes something in sifting people according to the time and place and purpose that God has in mind. If the appearance of a new building is the cultural appeal that brings more people in to hear the gospel presented, so be it. Just so long as the biblical message of the church isn't weakened as a result in hopes of growing the numbers rather than strengthening the spirits of those who attend, who can argue?
That wasn't all that our Tim had to discuss about the church. Last night, after having talked with our friends and telling them about our church, Tim was pondering with pleasure the idea of coming to church this morning. I told him, "I hope the main thing you're looking forward to is the fact that we go to worship God, not that your friends are there." He understood that, and claimed that was in fact his primary reason, but he also went on to say, "I bet Pastor Ken has never said a swear word." I was surprised, partly because I thought he'd bring up something about the friends his age, but he is strongly impressed by the fact that the pastor has befriended him personally. I said that chances were that the pastor had in fact sworn before, that he is only human, after all. He said, "Well, you think he's pretty good." Yes, I respect, admire and will try to imitate the way that he lives out Christ in his life; I haven't found fault with him. Still, I don't make him out to be beyond what humans are capable of. It's easy to put leaders on a pedestal, and I've seen it done with very bad results before. We have to realize the human limitations of everyone, holding them accountable to the perfect standard of faith in Christ, but realizing that all fall short; it's not fair to anyone to expect them to be perfect.
So we look forward to Sundays, if you haven't noticed. It's solid teaching, there's a very sweet fellowship, and I treasure each time we're there. I walk up those worn concrete steps and open the heavy, battered wooden door with great anticipation. The character of the church may change with time, but as long as God is at the center of what goes on there, it's the way it should be.
Well, I stand corrected. I told Kit, Pastor Ken's wife, about Tim's comment, and she said, "He's right. I can vouch for that. I've never heard him swear, and he's never sworn. It isn't that he holds it back, it just isn't there." Well, there you are. I guess Tim could tell, somehow, in Pastor's gentle demeanor. That pedestal...it can be pretty hard to kick out of place sometimes!
Friday, November 09, 2007
The Problem of Church Size
I saw a lady today who I knew slightly from our previous church. She too had changed churches, a couple of years before we did, and was talking about the difficulties she had with the adjustment she was making. We'd changed churches after 6 years; her family had moved after 13 years. That's an investment! And she said she was a person who struggled with making friends, so for her a church change is all the more fraught with emotion and difficulty. Not only that, but they started in Lynnwood and ended up in Monroe at a daughter church start-up--so she hadn't only started getting to know people in Lynnwood, but then had to readjust to a new location over again. Still, I liked the reason she had to readjust: Their church had a policy of starting a daughter church any time they had more than 150 members. There's wisdom in that! There's more right in a small church, in my experience, than in a large one.
Since starting to attend a church that has about 80 people attending, including kids, I've come to appreciate the high level of fellowship and the close interaction that the congregation has with the leadership. It's important, it helps church growth and accountability, and I'm thankful to see that the leadership isn't lesser quality just because the church is small.
Still, Americans seem to value and take pride in anything large even if the size is crippling--reminiscent of the humorous style legendary of Texans. It would seem that a church can justify more pride and puffery the more members it has. I remember being in a mega-church start-up that on its first day had 800 people. That wasn't enough for the pastor, though--I remember him mentioning one morning that he'd counted the cars in the parking lot, in the context of church growth. Yikes! Even he jokingly admitted that it was more like a religious mob than a church.
In fact, when we walk around through our cul-de-sac, occasionally we talk with some neighbors who have recently started attending a seeker-friendly church in town. We talked about our churches, and we were telling them what our church was like and describing the ministry of our pastor, who prayed with us even on our first Sunday, and came out to visit us shortly afterward. With pride, they said they had never spoken with their pastor. They thought they were impressing us, and they were, but not as they intended. Shortly after that some friends came to our church and when we had coffee together afterward, they too proudly said they had never spoken with their pastor. Appalling! Not only appalling that they never had, but that they could feel that this was more ideal. What is happening to the churches in America? This is a grievous sadness to me. How can a shepherd rightly lead his flock if he doesn't even recognize his own sheep? How can he know what they are really up to, if he has never spoken with them? It could be that these people enjoy the anonymity, the lack of accountability that comes in such a huge church. They're under the radar, and they can live like the devil if they want to.
Our pastor recently showed me an article about the Willow Creek church and its recent "repentance" of its failed discipleship methods. Knowing that I like to blog, he suggested that I write about it. Not having followed the history of this church, I know so little about it that I couldn't write well about it, but found I kept referring to my own mega-church experience; it was all I had to relate to it. I didn't know how much I had pre-conceived notions regarding what traits the mega-churches are almost bound to share. Still, Willow Creek's old approach did sound rather familiar, in its small groups and the distance and delegated levels between pastors and congregation. What struck me as ironic was that the church found that its methods were not working--by questionnaire. Not by individual contact, not by the pastors' discussions with their congregation members. I think a big church will always have these unfortunate big church traits, and I can't imagine it was what Christ intended.
So I applaud the Lynnwood church for recognizing the importance of keeping its size within manageable limits and not seeking for visibility and enormity. It's a humble approach, far more in synch with the "out of the salt shaker, into the world" scattering that Jesus had His disciples go and implement.
Since starting to attend a church that has about 80 people attending, including kids, I've come to appreciate the high level of fellowship and the close interaction that the congregation has with the leadership. It's important, it helps church growth and accountability, and I'm thankful to see that the leadership isn't lesser quality just because the church is small.
Still, Americans seem to value and take pride in anything large even if the size is crippling--reminiscent of the humorous style legendary of Texans. It would seem that a church can justify more pride and puffery the more members it has. I remember being in a mega-church start-up that on its first day had 800 people. That wasn't enough for the pastor, though--I remember him mentioning one morning that he'd counted the cars in the parking lot, in the context of church growth. Yikes! Even he jokingly admitted that it was more like a religious mob than a church.
In fact, when we walk around through our cul-de-sac, occasionally we talk with some neighbors who have recently started attending a seeker-friendly church in town. We talked about our churches, and we were telling them what our church was like and describing the ministry of our pastor, who prayed with us even on our first Sunday, and came out to visit us shortly afterward. With pride, they said they had never spoken with their pastor. They thought they were impressing us, and they were, but not as they intended. Shortly after that some friends came to our church and when we had coffee together afterward, they too proudly said they had never spoken with their pastor. Appalling! Not only appalling that they never had, but that they could feel that this was more ideal. What is happening to the churches in America? This is a grievous sadness to me. How can a shepherd rightly lead his flock if he doesn't even recognize his own sheep? How can he know what they are really up to, if he has never spoken with them? It could be that these people enjoy the anonymity, the lack of accountability that comes in such a huge church. They're under the radar, and they can live like the devil if they want to.
Our pastor recently showed me an article about the Willow Creek church and its recent "repentance" of its failed discipleship methods. Knowing that I like to blog, he suggested that I write about it. Not having followed the history of this church, I know so little about it that I couldn't write well about it, but found I kept referring to my own mega-church experience; it was all I had to relate to it. I didn't know how much I had pre-conceived notions regarding what traits the mega-churches are almost bound to share. Still, Willow Creek's old approach did sound rather familiar, in its small groups and the distance and delegated levels between pastors and congregation. What struck me as ironic was that the church found that its methods were not working--by questionnaire. Not by individual contact, not by the pastors' discussions with their congregation members. I think a big church will always have these unfortunate big church traits, and I can't imagine it was what Christ intended.
So I applaud the Lynnwood church for recognizing the importance of keeping its size within manageable limits and not seeking for visibility and enormity. It's a humble approach, far more in synch with the "out of the salt shaker, into the world" scattering that Jesus had His disciples go and implement.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Stitch, Stitch, Stitch...
Every Sunday I feel a little more attached. I picture it as us being "stitched" in a tight little zigzag to the people of the church--that each Sunday at least one more stitch is placed, and eventually we may never be inclined to leave; never strong enough to, if that strength were needed! (I hope it's not.)
The first week we all agreed that there was something great about this church--and I have to say, it's in spite of the building, which is small, somewhat dark inside, and to be truthful, downright ugly on the outside. On the way home that first day, Gary kept talking about "programs" such as Awana and how he wanted to find a church that had them. First stitch that first Sunday might have been seeing a mother and daughter speak about the short-term missions trip they went on together. The next was having the pastor pray with us regarding our finding a church that worked for us (he's made a lot of stitches--see my blog on the Shepherding Pastor); then the Fourth of July picnic at a family's home, and the fellowship we had there.
Another was when a family we know came to visit the church. They have many children and would need a number of seats in a row. The usher asked an older couple if they might move from a row at the side to make room for them. I was so struck by how sweetly the couple willingly moved to accommodate the family; the lady said to me, "I kind of like to sit in the middle part anyway, once in a while."
Then there's the way that the congregation is included in the goings-on. Some of the songs we sing were written by one of the young men there. The pastor makes eye contact with various members of the congregation, especially the row of older ladies in the front center, as he gives his message. He asks questions occasionally and we are urged to answer. After the first service there is a prayer time in the second service time, accommodating whatever needs for prayer the congregation might have.
That was another big stitch--the last Sunday that Katie was able to attend before going off to college in California. They devoted much of the prayer time to praying for her, as well as for the homeschooling and other parenting responsibilities of all the families.
Then the family camp that we thought was washed out, but it wasn't...you may have read my blog about that.
Then there was a wedding shower for a young lady in the church. One of the women called to see if she could pick me up so we could ride together to the shower--along with all her seven daughters and a couple of other riders. She said she had quite the people-mover, and it's true!
Today the pastor's wife said she was glad we'd come, daring to say that she and I were a lot alike, though short and tall (I'm the short of it!). Another stitch.
There's been less talk about the missing programs. Tim's not dying to go to Awana anyway, and we can memorize Scripture in our homeschooling without it. Besides it's no longer available where we were attending before. We had been thinking we might move to California, or to Colorado, but those thoughts are becoming a little less vivid. (I'm still thinking a bit on California, because the tie to a daughter in school is pretty strong! But we could always fly if we had to.)
Stitch, stitch, stitch. We're being sewn in, and it's not our own doing (just like so many great things God does). We're not on the ragged edge, we're not being treated like a dangerous fringe element. We're becoming part of the church.
The first week we all agreed that there was something great about this church--and I have to say, it's in spite of the building, which is small, somewhat dark inside, and to be truthful, downright ugly on the outside. On the way home that first day, Gary kept talking about "programs" such as Awana and how he wanted to find a church that had them. First stitch that first Sunday might have been seeing a mother and daughter speak about the short-term missions trip they went on together. The next was having the pastor pray with us regarding our finding a church that worked for us (he's made a lot of stitches--see my blog on the Shepherding Pastor); then the Fourth of July picnic at a family's home, and the fellowship we had there.
Another was when a family we know came to visit the church. They have many children and would need a number of seats in a row. The usher asked an older couple if they might move from a row at the side to make room for them. I was so struck by how sweetly the couple willingly moved to accommodate the family; the lady said to me, "I kind of like to sit in the middle part anyway, once in a while."
Then there's the way that the congregation is included in the goings-on. Some of the songs we sing were written by one of the young men there. The pastor makes eye contact with various members of the congregation, especially the row of older ladies in the front center, as he gives his message. He asks questions occasionally and we are urged to answer. After the first service there is a prayer time in the second service time, accommodating whatever needs for prayer the congregation might have.
That was another big stitch--the last Sunday that Katie was able to attend before going off to college in California. They devoted much of the prayer time to praying for her, as well as for the homeschooling and other parenting responsibilities of all the families.
Then the family camp that we thought was washed out, but it wasn't...you may have read my blog about that.
Then there was a wedding shower for a young lady in the church. One of the women called to see if she could pick me up so we could ride together to the shower--along with all her seven daughters and a couple of other riders. She said she had quite the people-mover, and it's true!
Today the pastor's wife said she was glad we'd come, daring to say that she and I were a lot alike, though short and tall (I'm the short of it!). Another stitch.
There's been less talk about the missing programs. Tim's not dying to go to Awana anyway, and we can memorize Scripture in our homeschooling without it. Besides it's no longer available where we were attending before. We had been thinking we might move to California, or to Colorado, but those thoughts are becoming a little less vivid. (I'm still thinking a bit on California, because the tie to a daughter in school is pretty strong! But we could always fly if we had to.)
Stitch, stitch, stitch. We're being sewn in, and it's not our own doing (just like so many great things God does). We're not on the ragged edge, we're not being treated like a dangerous fringe element. We're becoming part of the church.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Change is Always Painful but Sometimes Necessary
We've changed churches enough in the past to see something of a pattern of losing contact with people from those congregations. It is the most painful aspect of changing churches, and the longer we're part of the church the more it hurts to leave. With the first church there was only a handful of people who we stayed in contact with. The next church had a number of people who were leaving about the time we did, and some of them we saw attending our next church as well, which eased the pain of that transition some. From the next church I think there were more hurt feelings. We were part of their missions commission and that was our closest group within it. I think they took it somewhat personally--leaving can make them feel like we've left rejecting them, rather than for other reasons. Each time, there's been something that I think most people would consider a solid reason.
I won't go into this recent one since it's more identifiable, but the first one we left because they didn't teach the Bible except in passing (that was my reason--I was newly saved and had heard on the radio that it was a good reason to change churches), and because Gary had a co-worker who was raving about this new church that was starting up (that was Gary's reason--Gary was not saved at this point--and it was God's provision that this co-worker caught his attention, because otherwise we might still be there!).
The second one we left because they stopped sharing the gospel at outreaches that seemed designed for sharing it, when the opportunity would have been perfect--and when questioned, an elder actually told us that it was because they didn't want to offend anyone. The associate pastor was there and defended his comment, too.
The third one we left because our daughter was in their youth ministry and the stuff they were teaching in there was unacceptable, and too much into promoting "self-esteem" and too little into Bible truth. The pastors also told us at the start of the year which of various behaviors that we would and wouldn't be told about if our teens were engaging in them. So we've attended a number of churches, but each time we've seen a new perspective and become a bit more alert and cautious about the next one.
This recent change is the first one where so many people have tracked the fact that we left. We were told today that one family noticed that we were gone--the first Sunday that we weren't there! This amazes me, perhaps because I'm never that observant myself, or else because I wonder how they'd notice so fast anyway, with so many other people around. They were even able to tell us specifically, this almost two months later.
At any rate, the more time that we invest with a church, the more intense the pain is in leaving. Each time that we see or hear from another family from there, it's like going through it all over again. And I think this congregation seems to care more that we're gone, combined with generally not taking it personally that we have left.
It makes life awkward, though. We have friends who are starting up homeschooling this year, and I had promised to help them and provide all that I could--but they are pretty new Christians, and it's just tough to think of approaching them even with this mundane purpose in mind, without having them wonder about the circumstances of our leaving. Then there are three families who we know pretty well, who we are convinced know we left, but who ignore the fact with us. What do we do about that? I guess we just leave it be and wonder at their silence. With each family it is different. It's frustrating, because it puts a weight where there ought to be none. These are still brothers and sisters in Christ; that will never change. But there's a separation, an awkwardness, a hurdle that should not be there and it's not really our doing. I think these are the worst parts about such a change.
On the other hand there are blessings that only come through this thing. We meet more brothers and sisters that we would never have met. We join a church with new strengths. We are reminded of forms of fellowship that weren't implemented in our old church. We hear the testimony of church missionaries and we see the congregation treated as a family even during the church service, interrupting announcements or whatever other part of the service if warranted to acknowledge one or another member--which I imagine is so much easier to do in a small church. The pastor is able to track what we're doing more, and so we feel not only more under his watchful eye but in his care.
So there is good and bad in such a thing. We left the last church with the claim ringing in our ears that there is no church for miles that teaches the Bible like they should--and we thought we were going to have to compromise to attend a church until we could move far away and find a better one. But God is faithful, and we only had to visit a few before one felt right. Even in the meantime, those we visited were very healing, comforting and refreshing; it was not a negative time in the least.
I realize God's ideal would be that we could all attend one church and get along, agreeing on all the vital things, seeking always to stay faithful to His truth, and loving one another as we should. Still, I am thankful to see that God has this variety of churches in America and not all of them are necessarily going off into apostasy. There are many which accommodate different needs among His people. We are individuals whom God has designed with a unique plan for each, in different stages of spiritual growth. I think God had us as a family go to each of the churches we attended for a reason that had to do with where we were spiritually at the time, and partially to increase our awareness and discernment. This path wouldn't have worked for everyone, but it has worked for us, painful though it was at times.
Looking back, I wouldn't have had it any other way. We wouldn't have wanted to stay at the first one; it wouldn't have taught us anything. I don't think we could have started at the last one; it would have been beyond our patience. Every church has its flaws, and those flaws can work to do various things in a person, to embitter them or to make them better. Every church has its strengths, too (at least those that teach the Bible to their best ability, and especially those that share the gospel with unbelievers and disciple believers). I hope to think every church we saw in the midst of this latest change is faithfully doing its best to involve the Holy Spirit in serving its congregation.
Be sure to keep your church and its leaders in prayer. They have their strengths and weaknesses, and Satan knows just what those are. Keep your eyes open. Handle problems scripturally, no matter how difficult it is; address problems to the leaders who can implement change, rather than leaving in a cloak of mystery, and maybe you will be influential. Don't stay under bad teaching if you have the option to find a better place; remember the following:
Psalm 1
How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
This is a sobering psalm; I think I always thought of it as lovely and reassuring to the believer, but there's the flip side. It's a warning to be discerning, and to stay faithful to God rather than man. It never felt good to leave any congregation, but God has nevertheless called us to do so a few times, and has always clearly honored obedience in such things.
He never calls us to leave and refuse to join a church again, as we've seen some do:
Hebrews 10:23-25: "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near."
I won't go into this recent one since it's more identifiable, but the first one we left because they didn't teach the Bible except in passing (that was my reason--I was newly saved and had heard on the radio that it was a good reason to change churches), and because Gary had a co-worker who was raving about this new church that was starting up (that was Gary's reason--Gary was not saved at this point--and it was God's provision that this co-worker caught his attention, because otherwise we might still be there!).
The second one we left because they stopped sharing the gospel at outreaches that seemed designed for sharing it, when the opportunity would have been perfect--and when questioned, an elder actually told us that it was because they didn't want to offend anyone. The associate pastor was there and defended his comment, too.
The third one we left because our daughter was in their youth ministry and the stuff they were teaching in there was unacceptable, and too much into promoting "self-esteem" and too little into Bible truth. The pastors also told us at the start of the year which of various behaviors that we would and wouldn't be told about if our teens were engaging in them. So we've attended a number of churches, but each time we've seen a new perspective and become a bit more alert and cautious about the next one.
This recent change is the first one where so many people have tracked the fact that we left. We were told today that one family noticed that we were gone--the first Sunday that we weren't there! This amazes me, perhaps because I'm never that observant myself, or else because I wonder how they'd notice so fast anyway, with so many other people around. They were even able to tell us specifically, this almost two months later.
At any rate, the more time that we invest with a church, the more intense the pain is in leaving. Each time that we see or hear from another family from there, it's like going through it all over again. And I think this congregation seems to care more that we're gone, combined with generally not taking it personally that we have left.
It makes life awkward, though. We have friends who are starting up homeschooling this year, and I had promised to help them and provide all that I could--but they are pretty new Christians, and it's just tough to think of approaching them even with this mundane purpose in mind, without having them wonder about the circumstances of our leaving. Then there are three families who we know pretty well, who we are convinced know we left, but who ignore the fact with us. What do we do about that? I guess we just leave it be and wonder at their silence. With each family it is different. It's frustrating, because it puts a weight where there ought to be none. These are still brothers and sisters in Christ; that will never change. But there's a separation, an awkwardness, a hurdle that should not be there and it's not really our doing. I think these are the worst parts about such a change.
On the other hand there are blessings that only come through this thing. We meet more brothers and sisters that we would never have met. We join a church with new strengths. We are reminded of forms of fellowship that weren't implemented in our old church. We hear the testimony of church missionaries and we see the congregation treated as a family even during the church service, interrupting announcements or whatever other part of the service if warranted to acknowledge one or another member--which I imagine is so much easier to do in a small church. The pastor is able to track what we're doing more, and so we feel not only more under his watchful eye but in his care.
So there is good and bad in such a thing. We left the last church with the claim ringing in our ears that there is no church for miles that teaches the Bible like they should--and we thought we were going to have to compromise to attend a church until we could move far away and find a better one. But God is faithful, and we only had to visit a few before one felt right. Even in the meantime, those we visited were very healing, comforting and refreshing; it was not a negative time in the least.
I realize God's ideal would be that we could all attend one church and get along, agreeing on all the vital things, seeking always to stay faithful to His truth, and loving one another as we should. Still, I am thankful to see that God has this variety of churches in America and not all of them are necessarily going off into apostasy. There are many which accommodate different needs among His people. We are individuals whom God has designed with a unique plan for each, in different stages of spiritual growth. I think God had us as a family go to each of the churches we attended for a reason that had to do with where we were spiritually at the time, and partially to increase our awareness and discernment. This path wouldn't have worked for everyone, but it has worked for us, painful though it was at times.
Looking back, I wouldn't have had it any other way. We wouldn't have wanted to stay at the first one; it wouldn't have taught us anything. I don't think we could have started at the last one; it would have been beyond our patience. Every church has its flaws, and those flaws can work to do various things in a person, to embitter them or to make them better. Every church has its strengths, too (at least those that teach the Bible to their best ability, and especially those that share the gospel with unbelievers and disciple believers). I hope to think every church we saw in the midst of this latest change is faithfully doing its best to involve the Holy Spirit in serving its congregation.
Be sure to keep your church and its leaders in prayer. They have their strengths and weaknesses, and Satan knows just what those are. Keep your eyes open. Handle problems scripturally, no matter how difficult it is; address problems to the leaders who can implement change, rather than leaving in a cloak of mystery, and maybe you will be influential. Don't stay under bad teaching if you have the option to find a better place; remember the following:
Psalm 1
How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the LORD knows the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
This is a sobering psalm; I think I always thought of it as lovely and reassuring to the believer, but there's the flip side. It's a warning to be discerning, and to stay faithful to God rather than man. It never felt good to leave any congregation, but God has nevertheless called us to do so a few times, and has always clearly honored obedience in such things.
He never calls us to leave and refuse to join a church again, as we've seen some do:
Hebrews 10:23-25: "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near."
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Shepherding Pastor
What does a shepherding pastor look like? In my experience they are altogether too rare; until lately I would not have been able to readily explain what they are like. I don't normally care for allegory, and when I write it out it sounds like a child's contrived composition (especially since the comparison between sheep and people is only so perfect), but I do see the application of the symbolism of the sheep and the shepherd so clearly when I see the shepherding pastor rather than the hireling, and I think it's worth sharing.
You will never hear the shepherding pastor say that he never really wanted to be a pastor but who will resignedly state that it's where God put him--that would be the hireling, who will never really have the passion, love, dedication and patience he needs to watch over a flock of sheep who need such constant guidance, who make frequent and stupid mistakes and who need so much care. A shepherding pastor is one who has truly felt God's call to be a pastor to the point where he actually rejoices in his flock, and delights to draw them in close and care for them. He will look to his Shepherd for guidance in how to best care for his own sheep. He cares for all his sheep with the same care and concern. He doesn't treat a new sheep with distrust because it is new or because it thinks like a sheep, but instead he talks to it and directs it, guiding it away from bitter weeds to sweet places. He doesn't push the sheep away for fear that if they know him they might see reason to reject him. He looks to his guideBook for every detail about how to care for and train his sheep, and explains the Book to them so they know to live according to the truths that are in it. He pours out new, clean, fresh Water for them on a regular basis that he himself has drawn from the Well, and the Water is good and refreshing, so they will want to drink deeply of it, seeing that he drinks deeply from it also.
He communicates with his sheep often. He prays for them. He invites them for walks and gathers them together often. He tells them his plans for the flock, and asks them to pray with him that those plans will be blessed. He knows when one of his flock is hurting and will do what he can to help it get back to health. He also knows when each sheep is happy, when it is eating right and when it has strayed into the wrong field. If any sheep has a question (yes, these sheep ask questions!), he is glad for it and wants to satisfy the sheep with an answer--so he will go to his guideBook to show them what the Chief Shepherd would say. If something has wandered into his flock that is not a sheep, but either a goat or a wolf, he will recognize it quickly so he can protect his flock.
The sheep that belong to a shepherding pastor will be content. They will get along with each other and imitate the shepherd's care for them in caring for one another. They won't fear to come to the shepherd because he might not want to talk to them, or because their questions might sound too dumb or scary, or heaven forbid, because the shepherd might attack them. They are content because they can rely on his providing new fresh water continually, keeping them from bitter weeds, nasty wolves and unsafe trails.
You have been patient to read this far. I just wanted to illustrate this because I was lying awake when I should have been asleep, pondering it. I think we sheep need to know the difference so we can be properly cared for, content, and safe. Baaaaaa.
You will never hear the shepherding pastor say that he never really wanted to be a pastor but who will resignedly state that it's where God put him--that would be the hireling, who will never really have the passion, love, dedication and patience he needs to watch over a flock of sheep who need such constant guidance, who make frequent and stupid mistakes and who need so much care. A shepherding pastor is one who has truly felt God's call to be a pastor to the point where he actually rejoices in his flock, and delights to draw them in close and care for them. He will look to his Shepherd for guidance in how to best care for his own sheep. He cares for all his sheep with the same care and concern. He doesn't treat a new sheep with distrust because it is new or because it thinks like a sheep, but instead he talks to it and directs it, guiding it away from bitter weeds to sweet places. He doesn't push the sheep away for fear that if they know him they might see reason to reject him. He looks to his guideBook for every detail about how to care for and train his sheep, and explains the Book to them so they know to live according to the truths that are in it. He pours out new, clean, fresh Water for them on a regular basis that he himself has drawn from the Well, and the Water is good and refreshing, so they will want to drink deeply of it, seeing that he drinks deeply from it also.
He communicates with his sheep often. He prays for them. He invites them for walks and gathers them together often. He tells them his plans for the flock, and asks them to pray with him that those plans will be blessed. He knows when one of his flock is hurting and will do what he can to help it get back to health. He also knows when each sheep is happy, when it is eating right and when it has strayed into the wrong field. If any sheep has a question (yes, these sheep ask questions!), he is glad for it and wants to satisfy the sheep with an answer--so he will go to his guideBook to show them what the Chief Shepherd would say. If something has wandered into his flock that is not a sheep, but either a goat or a wolf, he will recognize it quickly so he can protect his flock.
The sheep that belong to a shepherding pastor will be content. They will get along with each other and imitate the shepherd's care for them in caring for one another. They won't fear to come to the shepherd because he might not want to talk to them, or because their questions might sound too dumb or scary, or heaven forbid, because the shepherd might attack them. They are content because they can rely on his providing new fresh water continually, keeping them from bitter weeds, nasty wolves and unsafe trails.
You have been patient to read this far. I just wanted to illustrate this because I was lying awake when I should have been asleep, pondering it. I think we sheep need to know the difference so we can be properly cared for, content, and safe. Baaaaaa.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Cutting It Straight
We recently had a discussion with some influential men who were of the opinion that John MacArthur has such incredibly top-notch sermons and writings that no better way exists to phrase anything about the Bible. Though I am truly a fan of MacArthur's writings and his radio program, I differ with these men's stance, for one thing because it puts the merely human MacArthur on a huge pedestal, and for another thing, because it denies the creative power of the Holy Spirit to work through any other writer. It also would seem that if MacArthur's materials were so unquestionably the best materials out there, the only right way to teach would be to always use them and that any church that did not use them in sermons and in Sunday School would automatically fall short.
Lately we have gone to a number of churches with friends lately and found that the pastors have more to say than I had come to expect outside of our church--including Mars Hill Church in Ballard, which was phenomenal. The pastor there held his Bible in one hand and spoke to his congregation mostly consisting of young men, and I was stunned at how wonderfully he used the Scriptures in such a way that it spoke to the needs of his congregation, with inspiration and vision, and he didn't even appear to read from notes.
It reminds me of when I was 16. I started working on my birthday at a job in Discount Fabrics in Raleigh Hills near Portland. One of the first things they taught me was how to cut fabric. They had metal ridges installed on the countertops and the fabric usually was to be cut by aligning the edge of the fabric along the edge of the counter and settling your scissors in the groove of the ridge on the counter. If you sew, no doubt you've seen this done many times.
Folded-over fabric was normally cut starting at the fold. Decorator fabric was cut flat open. Still, there were a number of other considerations that had to be taken into account, and often made cutting along the metal ridge unworkable. If I was cutting burlap, because of its tendency to ravel, I was supposed to cut between the woven threads, even though they were usually not woven straight. I would allow an extra bit of yardage for this purpose. If I was cutting another low-quality fabric that was woven unevenly, I needed to do the same thing. If it were a printed panel, I would cut along the cutting line rather than mess up the panel by cutting into it--and they weren't bought by the yard but by the panel.
It is similar with preaching to the church. No two congregations are exactly alike. Each congregation is best served with a sermon customized to its particular needs. Suppose you are a missionary working in a foreign country, and the congregation doesn't have the whole Bible translated yet. Suppose they don't have a word for "forgive," for example? You have to simplify and customize the word to this foreign congregation--I remember reading in the book Bruchko that the writer, Bruce Olson, translated the word salvation as “Tie your hammock strings into Jesus,” to the Motilone tribe. This would only puzzle a congregation in any American city, though.
The Holy Spirit will inspire the sermon writer to write about the same passage of Scripture to address the needs of his congregation in a unique way that works there like it wouldn't anywhere else as well. The Scripture is living and active, and fabric isn't. I guess that's why God didn't assign pastors to use one man's writings for all their churches--aside from the Scriptures themselves--He sent them the Holy Spirit instead.
Lately we have gone to a number of churches with friends lately and found that the pastors have more to say than I had come to expect outside of our church--including Mars Hill Church in Ballard, which was phenomenal. The pastor there held his Bible in one hand and spoke to his congregation mostly consisting of young men, and I was stunned at how wonderfully he used the Scriptures in such a way that it spoke to the needs of his congregation, with inspiration and vision, and he didn't even appear to read from notes.
It reminds me of when I was 16. I started working on my birthday at a job in Discount Fabrics in Raleigh Hills near Portland. One of the first things they taught me was how to cut fabric. They had metal ridges installed on the countertops and the fabric usually was to be cut by aligning the edge of the fabric along the edge of the counter and settling your scissors in the groove of the ridge on the counter. If you sew, no doubt you've seen this done many times.
Folded-over fabric was normally cut starting at the fold. Decorator fabric was cut flat open. Still, there were a number of other considerations that had to be taken into account, and often made cutting along the metal ridge unworkable. If I was cutting burlap, because of its tendency to ravel, I was supposed to cut between the woven threads, even though they were usually not woven straight. I would allow an extra bit of yardage for this purpose. If I was cutting another low-quality fabric that was woven unevenly, I needed to do the same thing. If it were a printed panel, I would cut along the cutting line rather than mess up the panel by cutting into it--and they weren't bought by the yard but by the panel.
It is similar with preaching to the church. No two congregations are exactly alike. Each congregation is best served with a sermon customized to its particular needs. Suppose you are a missionary working in a foreign country, and the congregation doesn't have the whole Bible translated yet. Suppose they don't have a word for "forgive," for example? You have to simplify and customize the word to this foreign congregation--I remember reading in the book Bruchko that the writer, Bruce Olson, translated the word salvation as “Tie your hammock strings into Jesus,” to the Motilone tribe. This would only puzzle a congregation in any American city, though.
The Holy Spirit will inspire the sermon writer to write about the same passage of Scripture to address the needs of his congregation in a unique way that works there like it wouldn't anywhere else as well. The Scripture is living and active, and fabric isn't. I guess that's why God didn't assign pastors to use one man's writings for all their churches--aside from the Scriptures themselves--He sent them the Holy Spirit instead.
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