The field of moral psychology endeavors to understand why people make moral choices and the rationale they use to justify their choices. One of moral psychology’s recurring findings is that we have a higher opinion of ourselves than we ought to have. Of course, St. Paul arrived at the same conclusion about human nature nearly 2000 years ago when he wrote that very same message to the Church in Rome (Romans 12:3).

Experiments and surveys have repeatedly shown that we believe we possess attributes that are better or more desirable than the average person. For example, we believe by a wide majority that we’re above average drivers. The same is true when we’re asked about a virtue such as honesty. A high percentage of us report that we’re more honest than the average person. Even folk in jail for theft report such superior honesty. High school students consistently judge themselves to be more popular than average. And nearly every state claims that their average student test scores are above the national average. Of course, since we know something about statistics, we know that such judgments about ourselves cannot be true.

Moral psychologists have termed this phenomenon The Lake Wobegon Effect. It’s named for the fictional town of Lake Wobegon from the radio program A Prairie Home Companion, where, according to host Garrison Keillor: “All the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average.”

What these moral psychologists are documenting is as old as humanity. Our tradition names it as sin born from the cardinal sin of pride. Our creation story reminds us that Adam & Eve were quite clear that their judgment about a particular fruit in the Garden of Eden was superior to God’s judgment.

This truth about ourselves needs to be front and center when we spread the Good News of Jesus Christ. Yes, when sharing our faith with those who aren’t Christians we do need to have a “I-know-something-you-don’t-know” quality to it, because we do “know something they don’t know” when it comes to God’s grace in Jesus. But it’s how we share our faith with others that matters. It should be humble. We’re not morally superior to those outside the Christian faith. We may not even be morally above average.

So, from this humble stance, what is it we are to share?

I want to propose three Bible verses that will help remind us of how we should spread the Good News of Jesus.

The first verse is Isaiah 55:1: “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and drink!

Notice how the Prophet Isaiah pronounces God’s word here. Everyone who thirsts is invited. All should come and drink and eat without money or price. God’s invitation to humanity is complete and without condition. Isaiah’s prophecy is a bold declaration of God’s intention, made perfect in Jesus’ words in John’s Gospel, that Jesus when he is lifted up on the cross will draw all people to himself.

That means Jesus is doing the drawing. Our congregations then must be places where we’re trained for our role, not Jesus’ role. It may be a conversation you have in the living room at Columba House. It may be you comforting an exhausted Scout Leader after his troop meets one night at your church. It may be you listening to a co-worker over coffee about her current troubles. Whenever and wherever, we need to say to everyone in our communities: “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come!”

The second verse is Isaiah 25:9: “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us.”

Spreading the Good News involves us waiting for God to act. Our salvation, indeed the world’s salvation, isn’t our own doing. But our waiting should never be passive. It must be an active waiting, all the while recognizing that salvation is God’s action and God’s property, not ours.

If we remember that, then we’ll maintain a humble stance with those outside of our faith. Even though the Gospel is God’s bold declaration to the world, we should be compassionate and tender in how we share it, because we know many people have only received a false, toxic version of the Gospel.

Waiting for God to save is actually liberating. We’re free from playing the age-old game of who’s in and who’s out. We can collaborate with anyone, regardless of their faith, if they’re willing to do Gospel work with us in our communities.

If someone wants to partner with the Food for a Thousand Ministry at St Patrick’s, Albany or the community garden at the Oak Street Mission in Thomasville, we won’t worry if they don’t share our faith. We’ll feed hungry people with anyone. The Community Cares Café in Darien serves children whether or not they or their parents believe as we do. After all, we’re not on God’s “Program Committee.” We’re on God’s “Welcoming Committee.”

“Lo, it is God who saves us.” And we’ll share that Good News with anyone.

And the third and final verse is Matthew 28:19: “Go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

It’s not a liturgical accident that each Sunday our deacons send us out with this short, powerful verb: “Go!” “Go” doesn’t mean, “stay.” “Go” doesn’t mean hang out inside the church walls until somebody shows up. And “Go” doesn’t mean being so hamstrung by political correctness that we refrain from sharing with others God’s forgiveness in Jesus. “Go” means, “Go!”  

Go into the communities of this diocese with a “humble boldness.” Go share good news with the poor. Go tell the spiritually blind that God wants to give them sight. Go speak to the spiritually thirsty and let them know how you’ve learned that Jesus is the Water of Life.

Go to everyone. Go to the NSA, the NRA, the NAACP, the Rotarians, the Elks Club, the Booster Club, the Garden Club, the Optimist’s Club, the Pessimist’s Club, just Go! Wherever God has placed you, Go!

When we actually do go, God does some amazing things.

  • The community youth group in McIntosh County decided to go and this last year we baptized five young people.
  • The Cornerstone Ministry in Augusta chose to go and now regularly has 35 or more youth participate. And some of those aren’t members of our churches. They’re being evangelized by our youth.
  • In the summer when we go to Lake Blackshear with the Good News, people respond. Because the people of Christ Church Cordele decided to go, their worship attendance has doubled in the last few years.

What might God do in our communities if we all decided to “go?” Because when we “go,” we discover God’s already there. When we go to the ends of the earth or just to the end of our block, we find Jesus already pitching his tent there.

My friends, I firmly believe that the future vitality of this Diocese is directly related to our collective willingness to “go.” Our vitality will only grow in direct proportion to the number of us who are willing to “go.” And, this going can’t be a clergy-centered movement. A few laity still think that since we pay many of our clergy to go, they themselves don’t have to go. But that’s not true. The clergy’s primary task is to equip the laity to be the ministers of the Gospel. As the great lay teacher & preacher Verna Dozier wrote: The layperson’s primary function is out there in the world.  And the wise Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, wrote: Nine-tenths of the Church’s work in the world is done by Christian people fulfilling responsibilities and performing tasks which in themselves are not part of the official system of the Church at all.

That means when we “go,” we don’t go to church, we “go” to the people and places of our lives taking the Good News of Jesus with us. And if the Good News of Jesus saves us, it will save anybody and everybody.

I know I’ve gone a bit long here, but please stay with me for a few more minutes. I want to end on a personal note. Some of you know that I was diagnosed with cancer two months ago. I’m happy to report to you that I’m cancer free today. And I’m most thankful for all of your prayers. I felt each one of them.

The Diocesan Staff has been amazing, as usual, dealing with their already full responsibilities while also picking up after me, which is nearly an impossible task.

I also couldn’t do even one small thing as the Bishop of Georgia if it weren’t for Kelly, who puts up with me even as I am and loves me anyway, far beyond what I deserve.

There were upsides to my getting cancer. It’s been a great excuse for getting out of stuff. When someone asked me to do something I didn’t want to do, all I had to do was say: “You know, I’d love to, but I have cancer.” That worked every time.

The other upside is that it’s sharpened my mind and soul. It’s helped me see how often I’ve taken for granted the truly wonderful people and blessings that surround me.

And cancer has helped me get clear about what I want my life to stand for and how I want to spend the rest of my days on this earth, however long that is.

So, to quote that wonderful hymn by the Reverend James Cleveland:

Right now, I don’t feel no ways tired!

I’m ready to “go!” And I hope you’re ready to “go,” too.

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters”

Lo, this is our God who has saved us.”

Go, make disciples”

Deacons, please stand now wherever you are.  Please help me dismiss all of us from this overly long address with one powerful verb. It begins with a G and it ends with an O. On the count of three: One, two, three – Go!

 

Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple. – John 2:15

We’re more accustomed to a different Jesus, aren’t we? The Sunday School image of Jesus as the gentle good shepherd carrying a baby lamb on his shoulders still resonates with us. So when Jesus takes a whip and clears the temple, we’re taken aback. His action doesn’t fit our Sunday School image. But maybe such an image is mistaken? Some believe Christians should never get angry because Jesus never did. Well, he did. There’s nothing wrong with anger when it’s directed toward pursuing justice for God’s children.

We shouldn’t sit idly by while people suffer injustice. In fact, I’d say that if we’re not angered by injustice, then we’re not being faithful to the Gospel. It’s anger with injustice that leads us to confront the sin of racism. It’s anger with state-sponsored vengeance murder that compels us to end capital punishment. It’s anger with our society’s indifference to homeless people that leads us to work for safe housing for everyone. We should be angry when we see God’s creation polluted or God’s people brutalized.

Some of us, however, have adopted an insular spirituality. Pursuing spirituality is very popular these days. People want to become more spiritual. But much of what is called being spiritual” has no basis in the Bible. Biblically speaking, there’s no separation between our spiritual connection to God and our pursuit of justice for God’s people. The Great Commandment sums this up: Jesus says that loving God and loving our neighbor go hand in hand. We can’t love one without also loving the other. And we can’t love our neighbors without seeking justice for them. It’s just not biblically possible.

But that’s what some people do. They’re just interested in their spiritual growth as if such growth can be separated from justice. The Bible claims a wholeness of spirituality and justice, of prayer and action, of contemplation and its inextricable connection to God’s justice. If we wish to be spiritual, we should help a child learn to read. If we wish to be spiritual, we should help a hungry person find the food they need. If we wish to be spiritual, we should rebuke that colleague when he makes a racist or homophobic joke.

Yet, working for justice will be rudderless and random if it’s not grounded in the faith of the Church, for that’s where we learn how to order our lives so we’ll avoid a superficial spirituality or a definition of justice that simply mirrors a political party at prayer.

The pursuit of God’s justice needs to begin with our own self-examination and fearless personal inventory. Before we can point our finger at anybody else, we need to point the finger at ourselves and allow our anger to motivate us to change how we live. We must admit that in some ways we’re no different than the buyers and the sellers Jesus confronted in the temple. When our lives in the Church are turned over by Jesus the same way he turned over the temple tables, then we’ll begin to learn to be the Church. Then we will live holistic lives where our spirituality isn’t disconnected from seeking justice for God’s children.

+Scott

 

Some of you know I’m a huge fan of the singer-songwriter John Prine. And it’s a testament to my love and devotion to the Church and to this Diocese that I’ll be present at this evening’s Convention Eucharist because John Prine is performing tonight at the Savannah Civic Center. Prine’s lyrics are magical and almost always funny while also plumbing the depths of the human condition. A song he sings as a duet with Iris Dement evokes an affect that I want to share in my Bishop’s Address this year. The song is entitled “We’re not the Jet Set,” and part of it goes like this:

No, We’re not the jet set. We’re the old Chevro-let set
Our steak and martinis, Is draft beer with weenies
Our Bach and Tchaikovsky, Is Haggard and Husky
No, we’re not the jet set, We’re the old Chevro-let set. But ain’t we got love

In this Diocese, we’re not the jet set. Most of us are more comfortable with draft beer and weenies than we are with steak and martinis. Haggard and Husky are more likely to be on our play list than Bach and Tchaikovsky. Here in the Diocese we don’t have what a lot of dioceses have in terms of financial resources. We don’t have many large metropolitan areas that provide amenities that would draw people to move to them. With a few exceptions, the counties in our state that are projected to have significant growth are all in that certain diocese to the north, just above the gnat line.

So the demographics aren’t very favorable to us. Demographics, however, aren’t destiny and dwelling on them isn’t faithful. We trust in a providential destiny only God provides. Plus, as John Prine sings, “ain’t we got love.” We have God’s love for us incarnated in Jesus and we have our love for one another. And we have hope, hope that God is moving in our midst working out through us God’s plan of salvation.

Our call, then, isn’t to bemoan what we don’t have or what’s not favorable to us. It’s to celebrate and be thankful for what we do have and the favor God has shown us, and then to put all that we have and all that we are into the coming of God’s Kingdom on this earth, as it already is in heaven.

No, we’re not the jet set. We’re the old Chevro-let set. But this Chevy has many great miles to go and we’re fueled by the hope of what God will do through us to bring about the Kingdom.  And I want us to dwell on that sure and certain hope for these next few minutes. For as the Scriptures say: such hope will not disappoint us.

Now, we’re schooled by cable news and through social media to be afraid of just about everything from Ebola to the dirty ring around our bathtubs. If that were all the news we had, then it would be prudent to be afraid and to feel hopeless. Yet, if we have eyes to see, there are hopeful signs all around us.

1. While as a whole our diocesan Sunday attendance is basically flat, we now have more congregations that are significantly growing than are declining.

2. The core leadership training we’ve offered for clergy and laity through the Church Development Institute (CDI), Emotional Intelligence training, and peer coaching has now begun to bear fruit in many places. Clergy and lay leaders in many congregations are now better equipped to lead growing, vital congregations in the 21st century.

3. Our support for and focus on community ministries has led many congregations to reach out in real, concrete ways into their neighborhoods developing signature ministries that serve to transform people’s lives. We must remember that Jesus did not leave people stuck in their hunger or their sickness or their sin. He fed, He healed, and He liberated them. That’s what our community, signature ministries are all about. From Thomasville to Augusta, from Cordele to Darien, our congregations are embracing a vision of vitality through engagement with their communities.

4. Honey Creek, as you will see this afternoon, is being reborn into a more strategic missionary asset of the Diocese. In the last year, 70% of its ministry directly supported the mission of the Diocese. And 93% of its ministry was church-related. That didn’t happen by accident. We consciously renewed Honey Creek’s mission to be all about supporting God’s mission in and through this Diocese. And, I should add, we’re doing all this operating in the black for the 3rd straight year. When you see Honey Creek’s Director, Dade Brantley, this afternoon, please give him a big hug and a thank you.

So, there are many things we’re doing to help our congregations thrive. And thriving congregations must be our goal if we’re to accomplish God’s mission.

In this last year, while I was on retreat with the Sisters of St John the Baptist, I spent long periods of time praying for you. I did. I spent hours of time praying just for you and for each of our congregations.

There on retreat, thanks to Canon Logue, I brought with me the Field Guide to the Diocese. With that objective data and with my own direct experience with each of our congregations over the last four years, I placed each congregation in three, separate categories: Those that were thriving, those that were treading water, and those that were in decline.

I had some assumptions ahead of time about what congregations in each of those categories had in common that would tell me why they were in the category they were in. I discovered that my assumptions were mostly wrong (it’s good to have our assumptions challenged on a regular basis). It wasn’t the congregation’s location, or its size, or the amount of financial resources it had that defined whether it was thriving. The thriving congregations were of all sizes, in vastly different locations, and had widely differing resources.

There’s only one variable that all the thriving congregations have in common and it’s this: they’re all focused beyond their own doors and their own property lines. They’re concerned with that co-worker who had given up on God saying that if Jesus were real, then he must not love him. They’re focused on that hungry child down the street who won’t have enough to eat tomorrow. They’re alarmed to learn about that senior citizen who was all alone in the nursing home across town. Those are the topics dominating coffee hour conversations and discernment at vestry meetings. How might we reach them with the Good News of Jesus? How might we love them? How might we humbly serve them? Those are the questions being asked and discerned in our thriving congregations.

In contrast, what about the congregations in the two other categories? They’re anxious about their inward issues and talk mainly about surviving and protecting what they now have. Rather than be open to their community, they may feel that they have to struggle against it. While not always the case, this may lead to an unhealthy focus on things like the color of the new carpet in the narthex, or the rector’s recent haircut, or the choir’s lack of musical range. Or more dangerously, they may become focused on finding someone to blame for why their church isn’t thriving. And that blaming, often of the clergy, becomes what fuels the congregation’s life.

So my epiphany while I was on retreat is really quite simple: if we want thriving congregations and thus the transformation of our Diocese, then that’ll only happen when, as Bishop Lesslie Newbigin wrote, local congregations renounce an introverted concern for their own life, and recognize that they exist for the sake of those who are not members, as a sign, an instrument, and a foretaste of God’s redeeming grace for the whole life of society. (The Gospel in a Pluralist Society)

Now, it would be wonderful if the Diocese had the financial resources to help congregations engage the Gospel in their communities. We’re trying to raise those financial resources. We’re working to get every ounce of mission out of the limited resources we have in the Diocese. We have one of the smallest diocesan staffs in the Episcopal Church for a diocese our size. Frank, Mary, Elizabeth, Rudy, Vicki, Gayle, and Libby, not only put up with me on a daily basis, they’re committed to help all our congregations thrive. I’m blessed to serve with these amazing people.

Yes, it would be wonderful if we had more money and as I said, through the Capital Campaign, we’re working on finding those financial resources.

But, you know, we don’t need money to love our neighbor. We don’t need deep pockets to care about what happens to kids in the school next door or the overwhelmed single mother across the street or the lonely man in the nursing home around the corner. Each of our congregations can make a Gospel difference in their communities without having a dime to do it. All we need is the will to set aside our inward focus and embrace our neighbors with the Good News of God’s redeeming grace in Jesus.

I see hopeful signs of this in so many of you and in our congregations. We must not lose heart or believe we’re incapable of changing our local mission strategy. As a church, we’re facing nothing short of an avalanche of social and cultural change. I don’t need to list all those changes for you. You’ve read about them and you see them every day in your community.

When I was first ordained in 1983 to serve Lake Wobegone Episcopal Church, all we needed for what we understood to be “success” back then was a nice church building in a semi-decent location with passable worship and acceptable music. It didn’t hurt if the priest’s sermons were mildly entertaining, but not too challenging. If we added a clean, safe Church school, then we had a congregation sizable enough to pay all the bills.

But those days are gone and they’re not coming back. Please hear me when I say this: Those days are gone and they’re not coming back. Nostalgia for the past is hindering us from embracing our present mission.

The old road maps for “success” in our congregations are no longer applicable. We can’t just show up anymore, say we’re the church, and people will pay attention. We must take the Gospel into the public life of our communities with a passion and a commitment we’ve not had before. The people of our society are suffering from a lack of grace and compassion in their lives. They’re living in the “mean time” in both senses of that term. Mercy and empathy for one another is in short supply. Only the Gospel of Jesus Christ has the power to renew and redeem us and our neighbors.

As Bishop Newbigin wrote: If the gospel is to challenge the public life of our society…it will only be by movements that begin with the local congregation in which the reality of the new creation is present, known, and experienced, and from which men and women will go into every sector of public life to claim it for Christ, to unmask the illusions which have remained hidden and to expose all areas of public life to the illumination of the gospel. (The Gospel in a Pluralist Society)

Many of you are realizing that. That’s why I see so many hopeful signs of God’s redeeming grace in our congregations. You and I need to see more of these hopeful signs from one another, so we can encourage each another to live into the changes we must make locally in order to grasp the new mission God is placing before us.

The congregations that recognize what time it is will be the congregations that will thrive in the future. Those congregations who don’t, who insist on making the church’s mission only about those who show up, or only about what’s good for me and mine, those congregations will die a slow and banal death. That’s simply the truth.

So, can we let go of our inward focus and embrace our neighbors with Jesus and his Gospel in new and creative ways? Can we take the Gospel out of our churches and into the public square, not to nag or cajole, not to finger point or to blame, but to love and to serve and to bring hope to those who, as St Paul so aptly described, are literally perishing without the Gospel?

Can we do this? I know we can.

It’s true. “We’re not the jet set. We’re the old Chevro-let set. But ain’t we got love.” We sure do have love. We have the love of Jesus for us and for this wonderful and beautiful, yet sinful and broken world in which we live. And the love of Jesus is all we truly need.

 

My hunch is I never would’ve paid much attention to this particular newspaper headline and story if I hadn’t been in Taiwan at the House of Bishop’s meeting. The headline read: “Americans Neutral On Taiwan.” The story was about a survey done by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs. In the survey Americans ranked Taiwan 12th among 25 other countries. That score indicated that Americans were neutral about Taiwan. If I read that story in Savannah, I would’ve moved on to the sports page. But reading it here gives me a chance to experience how that story feels to the Taiwanese. It matters a lot to them that Americans have a more favorable view of Japan and South Korea than they do Taiwan. A story I would’ve ignored if I were elsewhere is front-page news here.

That’s why culture and context matter so much. We perceive the import of matters based on the context and culture in which we live. We do this all the time without noticing even as we think we’re being objective and dispassionate in our assessment of a situation. But pure objectivity is elusive, we must know. That’s why a healthy and humble stance in relationship to the world involves acknowledging our lack of pure objectivity and our, at least, semi-captivity to our own cultural prejudgments and proclivities.

And that brings me to the Church of the Good Shepherd in Taipei. Here I am pictured with the Rector, Mother Lily Chang. It seems to me this parish has, more than most, a healthy and humble stance that embraces Chinese culture while acknowledging its own limitations on objectivity. For example, they practice what the Chinese have traditionally called “ancestor worship,” but they do so in the context of the Christian tradition of the communion of the saints. It thus becomes not so much worshiping one’s ancestors as honoring those who have gone before us in the faith.

Mother Chang said Protestant churches who first evangelized Taiwan forbade “ancestor worship” and thus were less effective in their evangelization than those who contextualized the faith while maintaining the larger tradition. Before we forbid or condemn something we discover in another culture, we should ask ourselves: Is this coming from the Gospel or just from our own subjective cultural lens on the Gospel?

One other interesting and compelling thing I discovered about the Church of the Good Shepherd, Taipei. In the Taiwanese form of Mandarin, the Church’s name is Mu Ai Tang, which literally translated means the Church of Shepherding Love. I find that both interesting and compelling because at the heart of the church’s name is a verb not a noun. That means the church’s identity is shaped by the action of a verb more than by the subject of a noun. The church’s mission then is activating the love of Jesus in the world rather than simply being subjects receiving that love. Their name compels them outward rather than inward. It identifies them more by how they believe rather than only by the content of their belief.  In western culture, we too often fixate only on what we believe and fail to put those beliefs into action. Mu Ai Tang reminds us that what we believe cannot be separated from how we believe.

+Scott

 

If we refuse to let the subject come into view, it may occasion suspicions, which, though not well founded, may tend to inflame or prejudice the public mind, against our decisions: they may think we are not sincere in our desire to incorporate such amendments in the constitution as will secure those rights, which they consider as not sufficiently guarded. — James Madison to the House of Representatives, 8 June 1789.

As this quote from Mr. Madison indicates, trust has always been an issue between people and the leaders of institutions. But today, such suspicions, as he acknowledged, seem to be on steroids, and not without justification. The government spying on its own citizenry, financial institutions reaping questionable profits on shadowy deals with other people’s money, worker productivity up by 90% in the last forty years while income percentages during that same time only up in the single digits, all lead people to lose trust in public and private sector leadership and the institutions they lead.

In the Church we’ve had our share of behavioral, financial, and other issues that have eroded trust. And it doesn’t really matter if personally we’ve been free of such things or that our congregation hasn’t had some of these issues. We’re all tarred with the same brush. Once someone loses trust in leadership, my experience says there’s a 1 to 10 ratio going on. For every year of mistrust, it takes ten years worth of hard work to recover it. That’s why developing trust is never fully accomplished. It’s always a work in progress.

From the emotional perspective of a new person in a congregation, most bring with them both our historic and current cultural suspicion, if not distrust, of leaders and institutions. So, even after their sense of safety, acceptance, and inclusion (last week’s eCrozier) are reasonably satisfied, congregational leaders still have to earn the basic trust of people and then both develop and maintain it. While clergy leaders set this tone, it has to be a full commitment and partnership of the clergy with the lay leadership.

That’s why clergy and vestry practices such as financial opaqueness, decisions made without input or feedback, or changes that appear to be arbitrary will always undermine people’s trust, especially those people who are relatively new to the congregation. They don’t have a long enough personal relationship with the leaders that might mitigate such distrust. Empathy and the “Golden Rule” are powerful tonics to cure leaders of the above self-destructive behavior. So ask: “If I were new to the congregation, what might help me better understand how we’re stewards of financial resources here, how would I like to be included when leaders make a decision, what processes could we put into place so people wouldn’t perceive a change made by the leaders as merely arbitrary?”

Put simply, such trust development is about maintaining the free flow of truthful information and a feedback loop that listens to the concerns of the congregation. This doesn’t mean that no decision can be made until everyone agrees, but it does mean that we honor and respect everyone enough to be transparent and truthful in how we lead. Trust is the primary currency of every leader.

+Scott

 

There’s an insightful video on Youtube that asks: “What if Starbucks Marketed Like a Church? A Parable.” It’s a devastating critique of a visitor’s first experience of church. I cringed when I viewed it because it rang so true to my observation of how visitors experience church in so many places. Please view the video. It will help you get a feel for what first-time visitors often go through when they come to church.

When visitors come to church I believe there are three core dynamics to which we must be attentive. First, the visitor has to feel safe and accepted. This is common to all people with any new experience of a place. They won’t stay if they don’t feel both safe and accepted. If they have children, then that emotional concern is heightened even more. Often visitors are either completely ignored or they’re almost tackled, hog-tied, and smothered with attention. Neither extreme helps them experience safety and acceptance. What about your church needs to change to meet this basic emotional need of visitors for safety and acceptance?

The second core dynamic is inclusion. If visitors have never been to church before or if their prior church experience didn’t have a liturgy similar to ours, then they’ll be a bit lost. When do they stand, sit, or kneel? Some people are crossing themselves, should they do that? Are they welcome at the altar? Which book do they use and when? When they look around and everyone else seems to be negotiating worship with ease, then it’s hard for them to experience inclusion, and consequently they feel incompetent. No one likes feeling that way. It’s why I don’t play golf. I’m incompetent at it. If I could play it better, then I would enjoy it. Helping visitors achieve a basic competence in our worship helps them experience inclusion. Having veteran worshippers sit with visitors to subtly and gracefully assist them with worship helps. Does your church do that?

Another part of inclusion must happen if visitors return for a second visit. Returning means they feel safe and accepted enough to come back. They’ve also crossed the hurdle of inclusion enough to envision themselves possibly being a part of this Christian community. But for that to happen they have to be able to imagine themselves as being able to offer who they are and the gifts they have to the church. Too often, with the best of intentions, we don’t invite new people to offer themselves. We don’t want to pressure them, we think. But this actually undermines the inclusion process. Early on we should ask them questions like: “What do you enjoy doing? What are your interests?” Then we should find a way to invite them into a part of the church’s mission and ministry that matches their enjoyment and interest. All people want to feel they’re contributing and making a difference. How does your church include people in this way? Do new people have to wait a few years before being invited? If so, they might not be there.

The last core dynamic is trust development. Once someone experiences safety and acceptance, and then inclusion they’re beginning to develop trust in the community. But that’s not guaranteed. The church’s leadership must stay focused on developing trust. I’m devoting next week’s entire eCrozier to this core dynamic. Stay tuned.

+Scott

 

People will come, but first we have to go (eCrozier #191)

I want to revisit what I’ve written in the past about the Church needing to move from a Theology of Attraction to a Theology of Mission. A Theology of Attraction holds that if we’re just welcoming enough people will naturally be attracted to us and want to join our churches. Yet, fewer people are attracted to churches these days. This is true regardless of denomination as the Pew Forum on Religion and other researchers have pointed out. A Theology of Attraction waits for people to come to us. We did that for generations. We bought land, built churches, called priests to serve them, opened the doors on Sunday, and we had a sustainable church. Now we sit in our churches looking like some poor guy stood up on a date. And just maybe that kind of sustainable church is never what God had in mind for the Church?

The Theology of Attraction suffers from an insufficient Biblical warrant. Jesus’ call to his disciples was never “come to church,” it was always “go, make disciples.” We need to go where people are. Our current practice is akin to putting an empty fish tank on the beach waiting for the fish to jump into it. To be sure, we should make our churches attractive to people by strong curb appeal, trained greeters at our doors, worship that’s beautiful, and preaching that compellingly tells the good news of God’s one-way love in the cross of Jesus. Still, that’s insufficient as a full response to Jesus’ command to “go, make disciples!”

A Theology of Mission calls us out of the friendly confines of our church buildings so we go to where people live, raise their families, make their livings (or suffer to live), and struggle to make sense of the world. Here is a checklist that will help us all get going:

  1. Do you know the neighbors around your church property? Go introduce yourself with no agenda except to get to know them.
  2. What do your neighbors need from you? Ask them and then listen to what they say a good neighbor looks like to them.
  3. Who is hurting in your community? How do they hope you will respond to their hurt? You can’t do everything, but you can do something.
  4. Who are the potential partners in mission in your community? You may find out those partners may disagree with you on some things, but you can find common ground on one thing. Do that one thing together.

In order to invite people to accept the Gospel of Jesus as the Truth that it is, we first have to incarnate that Truth through our words and deeds in our communities. It won’t work for us to sit in our church buildings with a sign out front that says: “We have The Truth in here. Come on in and we’ll tell you about it.” Even if that did work today, it’s not true to the Gospel. Nor can we attract people to our churches by the false promise that if they join us then all their problems will be solved. But we will make disciples by embodying in our communities the truth of God’s unmerited grace in the cross of Jesus. That’s what transforms lives, even our own, for we have no standing to worship Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament on Sunday if we aren’t also serving him on the streets of our communities during the week. People will come, yes they will. But first we have to go.

+Scott

 

So if you’re walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes
Please don’t just pass ’em by and stare
As if you didn’t care, say, “Hello in there, hello”
– John Prine from his song, “Hello in There.”

We live in a culture where we seem to connect more with people through social media than we do through incarnated interaction. Connecting with the others electronically is not a detrimental thing in itself, but if it replaces incarnated relationships, then it will further alienate us from one another. The irony of modern life is that many are so connected and yet so alone. Human relationships, of course, are messy, so I get why people are retreating to electronic ones. They can control when to interact and the relationship’s parameters. That’s harder to do when another person is present with us. Incarnated relationships lay a claim on us that’s personally demanding and sometimes painful. In electronic ones, all we need do is turn off the device.

Newsweek last week ran a story on the alarming rise in the suicide rate over the last decade. According to Newsweek, Julie Phillips, a sociologist at Rutgers University, analyzed this new data. It used to be that teenagers and the elderly had the highest rates, but that’s no longer the case. Baby Boomers, those born between 1945 and 1962, now have the highest rate. What’s alarming, however, is that while “the boomers have the highest suicide rate right now, everyone born after 1945 shows a higher suicide risk than expected—and everyone is on pace for a higher rate than the boomers.” What’s causing this profound change across all regions of our country? According to Newsweek: “[Phillips] has a good list of suspects: the astounding rise in people living alone, or else feeling alone; the rise in the number of people living in sickness and pain; the fact that church involvement no longer increases with age, while bankruptcy rates, health-care costs, and long-term unemployment certainly do.” Oh my!

Kathy Mattea sings about going “through life parched and empty” all the while “standing knee deep in a river and dying of thirst.” My hunch is that those who are so “parched and empty” don’t even know there is the water of life running around them knee-high. Those who choose suicide have made a clear calculation: death is preferable to their life as it is. To them it makes sense. If they have no incarnated relationships where they are loved unconditionally, where grace and forgiveness are the operative virtues, and where they share with others a clear meaning and purpose in life, then there is some sense, however bent and twisted, in such a choice.

Do we as a Church need any more of a mission imperative than what is provided by that list of suspected causes for the rise in suicides? We must reach out to them with the Good News of Jesus, who is the Water of Life. Yet, as the John Prine song states: We so often just pass folks by and never stop to say “hello in there.” We as a Church have the antidote. It is time for us to share the cure.

+Scott

 

The Need for Insurgents in the Church (eCrozier #164)

Fred Kaplan’s new book entitled, The Insurgents, tells the story of how the American military changed its approach to the Iraqi war based on a counterinsurgency strategy. After much failure, the military acknowledged that it needed to engage in a different kind of warfare. In the first years of the Iraqi occupation the standard approach had been to go in with overwhelming force, bash down doors, and kill as many of the enemy as possible. Often this resulted in the killing of civilians and the complete destruction of people’s property. This made the population enraged and simply created more enemies. The counterinsurgency strategy, as Kaplan writes, was focused on cultural/religious sensitivity, earning the trust of the people, and being committed to their welfare and safety. The military called this: “winning the hearts and minds of the people.”

The title of the book doesn’t refer to a group of Iraqis. It actually refers to American military leaders who had to overcome the entrenched mindset of the top generals by challenging the long-standing military dogma that only knew of one way that warfare worked. These military leaders approached the challenge as if they were fighting a land war in Europe with the old Soviet Union. The Insurgents were younger officers willing to question that approach and let real experience and the context on the ground guide their actions. They jettisoned the old, standard ways because they were not working and would never work in the new context of Iraq.

It occurs to me this is a lesson for the Church. In using the example of the Iraqi war, I don’t want to get sidetracked by debating its efficacy. That is not my point in using this example. My point rather is that we as a church need some of our own insurgents, people who are willing to question the assumptions about how we engage in mission. Conservatives believe that they can simply repackage their tactics, put a smile and a latte on their message of hellfire and damnation, and all will work out fine for the Church. Liberals do their own repackaging, desiring to water down the Gospel’s call to radically follow Jesus, thinking that will be less offensive, and hoping that will bring in more people to pay church bills.

Both, in my opinion, are still fighting the equivalent of a European land war with the Soviet Union. The Church must address the Gospel of Jesus to people’s lives as they truly are in this anxious and confusing culture. Scaring them with Hell or implying it does not matter how they live has not and will not produce any fruit. We need our own counterinsurgency, a new Christian way that calls everyone to the radical path of Jesus; one that unashamedly confesses that Jesus is both Savior and Lord, but one that speaks clearly and truthfully to the unchartered waters the people of our culture are now in.

The temptation will be to go back to what is known and comfortable. For conservatives that will mean just doubling down on the Ozzie & Harriett worldview that will never be again. For liberals, it will mean hoping people will be a bit nicer, more tolerant of others who differ, and more generous. No wonder fewer and fewer people are listening to either voice. They know in their hearts that neither one is compelling or truthful.

+Scott

 

As a teenager I went to one of the Wednesday night prayer meetings at church. During the sermon that evening the preacher slowly built the intensity and ended with an impassioned “altar call” (there actually was no altar, per se, but you get the picture). He said something like: “If you don’t give your life to Jesus tonight, you could walk out of here later, get hit by a car, and you’d spend eternity in Hell.” I decided three things right then and there: (1) I truly would give my life to Jesus; (2) I would not be spiritually extorted to come forward no matter how many verses of “Just As I Am” were played; and, (3) I would be especially careful crossing the street that night.

I have more than a few regrets in my life, but I’ve never regretted those three decisions. Driving through North Carolina this last weekend I saw a huge billboard in Avery County. On the billboard was a giant flame and next to it was the question: “Do you know where you will spend eternity?” When I got home I checked out our household smoke and fire detectors. They’re working just fine, thank you.

There are, as the old saying goes, “no atheists in foxholes.” If we’re scared enough, we’ll buy into just about anything to relieve our fears (politicians count on that and so do many preachers and it’s hard these days to tell much difference between the two). Shane Claiborne, who more than most people I’ve met follows Jesus most closely, once wrote: “I am sorry that so often the biggest obstacle to God has been Christians. Christians who have had so much to say with our mouths and so little to show with our lives. I am sorry that so often we have forgotten the Christ of our Christianity.”

If the only reason I offer for following Jesus as Lord is to avoid the fires of Hell or to gain the rewards of Heaven, then I of all people am most to be pitied. Playing Monopoly with my children a few weeks ago reminded me that following Jesus as Lord is not the spiritual equivalent of the “Get Out Of Jail Free” card in that game. I follow Jesus, the Son of God, because he is quite literally The Truth. I would have faith in him and follow him even if it meant I did not have Heaven as a reward when I die. Hear me here: I would follow Jesus as Lord even if there were no promise to me of Heaven. I follow him simply because he is God’s only-begottenTruth, embodied and revealed. Anyway, eternal salvation is God’s property, not mine. It would be just plain wrong on my part to claim otherwise.

The reason, I believe, more and more folk are giving up on church is, in large part, due to the message the Church has been sending out. We err by making Christianity into an eternal life insurance policy hoping people will be scared enough to buy it. Or, we spend so much of our energies arguing with one another about who among us is more faithful, leaving little time to truly follow Jesus. Who would want to be a part of a church whose slogan is de facto: “Join us and together we will argue with others about who is more likely to go to Hell.” But some might well want to join a people on a mission to embody and live out the ministry of the forgiving, merciful, and grace-filled Jesus. Sign me up for that duty.

+Scott