Monday, December 10, 2007
Shooting Close to Home
We all wear different hats. Most of the time I blog here while donning a magazine editor's hat. Today, though, I know of no other way to respond to Sunday's shootings in Colorado than by taking off that professional garb and putting on a more personal one. Not six months ago my family and I moved from Colorado Springs. We still consider it home. Though we didn't attend New Life Church, we know countless people who do. It's hard to live in that city and not have some connection to the church. We drove by it almost daily on our way to our closest friends' house. In fact, I recognized virtually every camera angle of the church campus offered to us yesterday as the news networks relayed the latest information. And though no one I know was killed or injured, the tragedy still hits home—hard.
The same is true of the equally senseless shootings at the Youth With a Mission base in Arvada. As a missionary kid who grew up in Hong Kong, I've been impacted by YWAMers my entire life. They are a wonderful and rare breed. Most recently my sister-in-law returned from serving on a YWAM team in Cambodia, and many of her friends lived in Colorado Springs and were semi-connected to the Arvada campus. (They also knew someone who was shot at New Life.)
There's a sense of déjà vu in all this. More than eight years ago, a friend of my wife's was gunned down at Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas. Seven people were murdered and seven more injured after a gunman stormed into a Wednesday night youth service and opened fire during a prayer rally. Some of my closest friends' lives were drastically changed that day, and the tragedy has never left them—or me, for that matter.
Things like this don't leave us, nor should they. And yet, as I scroll down the ever-increasing list of churches and ministries affected by senseless violence, I can't help but notice how this is about something that is anything but senseless. This is about the church. It's about the natural, foretold opposition against those who stake their lives on the name of Jesus. It's about a spiritual war being fleshed out with greater frequency on this earth, in this day and in our society.
I see this daily during my workday routine. Each morning after logging onto my computer I start by scrolling through a list of church- and ministry-related headlines posted online the previous night from around the world. Every day it's filled with stories of African Christians tortured, Filipino pastors gunned down or Indian believers martyred for their faith. And every day I'm struck by the same thought: How is it so easy for me to just keep scrolling down and treat these headlines the same as I would another Britney Spears headline? OK, that may be a slight exaggeration. But the reality is that those events have yet to become my reality. I don't comprehend them, therefore I'd rather not think about them. The only time I really let things sink in is when tragedy hits home—like now.
The worldwide church is deeply familiar with a violent opposition; for the American church, it's relatively new. Does this diminish the tragedy? Of course not. We are called to mourn with those who mourn. And I'm currently grieving two events that hit closer than I'd prefer. But in the midst of praying for the families who have lost loved ones, for a church and ministry facing an unexpected path and for a pastor (Brady Boyd) who, only months into leading his new congregation, must comfort them through the unthinkable ... in the midst of all this, I'm also reminded that the church in the United States is not the norm. We are far from the standard set by the church described in Acts. We hardly look like many of our sister congregations overseas who are regularly persecuted yet continue to grow in strength and number. We are, for the most part, a glamorous, comfortable people who are finally getting our makeup smeared through recent tears.
Wouldn't it be like God to continue to use such persecution as we've seen in recent years to reshape us into the church He wants rather than the church we've become? If we follow the belief that God does not cause this persecution but allows it (2 Tim. 3:12), then I know His plan is more powerful than any madman's bullet. He mourns while knowing we are stronger than our tears. We are His people, called by His name. That means not only will we overcome through Him, we'll be given the strength to glorify His name through the darkest of times.
YOUR TURN: What are your thoughts on the Colorado shootings? How did the news affect you? What do you see these latest attacks signifying for the church?
The same is true of the equally senseless shootings at the Youth With a Mission base in Arvada. As a missionary kid who grew up in Hong Kong, I've been impacted by YWAMers my entire life. They are a wonderful and rare breed. Most recently my sister-in-law returned from serving on a YWAM team in Cambodia, and many of her friends lived in Colorado Springs and were semi-connected to the Arvada campus. (They also knew someone who was shot at New Life.)
There's a sense of déjà vu in all this. More than eight years ago, a friend of my wife's was gunned down at Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas. Seven people were murdered and seven more injured after a gunman stormed into a Wednesday night youth service and opened fire during a prayer rally. Some of my closest friends' lives were drastically changed that day, and the tragedy has never left them—or me, for that matter.
Things like this don't leave us, nor should they. And yet, as I scroll down the ever-increasing list of churches and ministries affected by senseless violence, I can't help but notice how this is about something that is anything but senseless. This is about the church. It's about the natural, foretold opposition against those who stake their lives on the name of Jesus. It's about a spiritual war being fleshed out with greater frequency on this earth, in this day and in our society.
I see this daily during my workday routine. Each morning after logging onto my computer I start by scrolling through a list of church- and ministry-related headlines posted online the previous night from around the world. Every day it's filled with stories of African Christians tortured, Filipino pastors gunned down or Indian believers martyred for their faith. And every day I'm struck by the same thought: How is it so easy for me to just keep scrolling down and treat these headlines the same as I would another Britney Spears headline? OK, that may be a slight exaggeration. But the reality is that those events have yet to become my reality. I don't comprehend them, therefore I'd rather not think about them. The only time I really let things sink in is when tragedy hits home—like now.
The worldwide church is deeply familiar with a violent opposition; for the American church, it's relatively new. Does this diminish the tragedy? Of course not. We are called to mourn with those who mourn. And I'm currently grieving two events that hit closer than I'd prefer. But in the midst of praying for the families who have lost loved ones, for a church and ministry facing an unexpected path and for a pastor (Brady Boyd) who, only months into leading his new congregation, must comfort them through the unthinkable ... in the midst of all this, I'm also reminded that the church in the United States is not the norm. We are far from the standard set by the church described in Acts. We hardly look like many of our sister congregations overseas who are regularly persecuted yet continue to grow in strength and number. We are, for the most part, a glamorous, comfortable people who are finally getting our makeup smeared through recent tears.
Wouldn't it be like God to continue to use such persecution as we've seen in recent years to reshape us into the church He wants rather than the church we've become? If we follow the belief that God does not cause this persecution but allows it (2 Tim. 3:12), then I know His plan is more powerful than any madman's bullet. He mourns while knowing we are stronger than our tears. We are His people, called by His name. That means not only will we overcome through Him, we'll be given the strength to glorify His name through the darkest of times.
YOUR TURN: What are your thoughts on the Colorado shootings? How did the news affect you? What do you see these latest attacks signifying for the church?
Monday, December 03, 2007
Evangelism Summit
Strang hosted an invitation-only, 24-hour "Evangelism Summit" last week that brought in some of the most respected evangelists within the charismatic-Pentecostal sphere. Maybe the biggest treat was seeing guys like Reinhard Bonnke, Rodney Howard-Browne and Larry Tomczak just shooting the breeze with the likes of Peter Lowe, David Shibley and Sam Rodriguez. Of course, when you get more than 40 well-known pastors and evangelists together in a room, it isn't hard to get some serious group dialogue going. And with Rice Broocks from Bethel World Outreach Center in Nashville, Tenn., mediating, that's exactly what happened around a single subject: evangelism in America.
The summit was based on the premise that what the American church is currently doing simply isn't working. Rice laid down the basics, citing Ron Luce's oft-referred 4 percent next-gen statistic, as well as those claiming that for every church opening its doors, three more close theirs. And of course, there was talk of faulty methodology, cultural and generational irrelevancy, a deteriorated credibility and an in-house disconnect between evangelists and pastors. All great points ... but not everyone bought into them—or even the summit's premise. And I found that to be maybe the most interesting part of the entire 24-hour period.
It was hugely important that these leaders met together. Their mere presence at the meeting proved evangelism isn't just a hot topic in need of being discussed, it's a (if not the) vital component of the church's calling in these days. However, we've still got a ways to go before we're on the same page with regards to the current dilemma. Not everyone believes the church is a sinking ship. Others swear it's just a matter of time before the United States, like Europe, becomes an entirely postmodern culture where Christianity is deemed obsolete. Some feel that's a matter of years away; while others believe it's mere months. Still others seem more bothered by the fact that the church has relegated evangelism to a calling, and the role of the evangelist to just that—a role.
Whatever differences of opinion there were, there was no denying that these men and women share a similar, unifying passion for the lost. It's the passion that brought them together. It's a passion that regularly requires them to sacrifice their family time for trips across the world to territories that have never heard the gospel. It's a passion that won't allow them to stay quiet. And it's a passion that's infectious.
The summit ended last week, but my head is still stirring with reflective waves. Whatever results from the meeting—a similar one with pastors in early 2008, an evangelistic onslaught of Nashville—it reminded me of these simple yet profound elements:
The summit was based on the premise that what the American church is currently doing simply isn't working. Rice laid down the basics, citing Ron Luce's oft-referred 4 percent next-gen statistic, as well as those claiming that for every church opening its doors, three more close theirs. And of course, there was talk of faulty methodology, cultural and generational irrelevancy, a deteriorated credibility and an in-house disconnect between evangelists and pastors. All great points ... but not everyone bought into them—or even the summit's premise. And I found that to be maybe the most interesting part of the entire 24-hour period.
It was hugely important that these leaders met together. Their mere presence at the meeting proved evangelism isn't just a hot topic in need of being discussed, it's a (if not the) vital component of the church's calling in these days. However, we've still got a ways to go before we're on the same page with regards to the current dilemma. Not everyone believes the church is a sinking ship. Others swear it's just a matter of time before the United States, like Europe, becomes an entirely postmodern culture where Christianity is deemed obsolete. Some feel that's a matter of years away; while others believe it's mere months. Still others seem more bothered by the fact that the church has relegated evangelism to a calling, and the role of the evangelist to just that—a role.
Whatever differences of opinion there were, there was no denying that these men and women share a similar, unifying passion for the lost. It's the passion that brought them together. It's a passion that regularly requires them to sacrifice their family time for trips across the world to territories that have never heard the gospel. It's a passion that won't allow them to stay quiet. And it's a passion that's infectious.
The summit ended last week, but my head is still stirring with reflective waves. Whatever results from the meeting—a similar one with pastors in early 2008, an evangelistic onslaught of Nashville—it reminded me of these simple yet profound elements:
- Evangelism is simply a lifestyle. That's become cliché, yes—but also forgotten.
- Evangelism has its styles, methods and tools; but ultimately, it's about sharing some really, really good news. When you find out you've just received a special award at work, what's your first reaction? You tell others. How is that any different from telling others about the gift Jesus continues to give you? Yes, it's that easy.
- Evangelism is a big word for story. We've all got one. Tell it. Better yet, live it.
- Some people are obviously gifted in sharing their faith. And sure, if you're like me, that can be a bit intimidating at times. But seriously, how hard is it to strike up develop a relationship with someone? How hard is it to serve? How hard is it to listen, care or simply be there? (I'm preaching to myself here.) These are all just as valuable in the process of planting the seeds of salvation in someone's heart as the "preaching" part. And yet ...
- The message has to be preached. At some point, things have to be defined. And this is what we're now discovering an entire generation has seemingly missed. It's why we have a nation that calls itself Christian while a puny minority are in fact biblically defined "born again" believers. Obviously, the "preaching" comes in different forms. It's best when it comes in the form of you—which is why, I believe, Christ extended a blanket calling of evangelism to all His believers, not just those who have the gift of this. He made you to share the good news of Him in your own unique way. I don't know about you, but that's liberating.
YOUR TURN: Is the church in America a sinking ship? Have we neglected evangelism in this country? Has it become just another "ministry" in the American church? If evangelism is on the decline, why? How can we right the ship?
