Monday, May 19, 2008
Big Dreams for a Small Church
I've always been a big fan of small churches. That's partly because I don't fully understand how megachurches "do" real church, and partly because I prefer the rawness, freedom and community that comes from a smaller worship gathering. Is it awkward at times? You bet. A little clumsy and unpolished? Sometimes. Yet those elements, to me, are exactly why small churches are such a treasure.
I love that there doesn't have to be soft music playing behind every prayer, altar call or offering. I love that you can get to know—really know—the people sitting next to you, and that building real relationships isn't an option when it's impossible to hide among the crowds. (What crowds?!) And maybe more than anything, I love that small churches allow everyone to be a key, active part of the body. No sideline-sitters (or at least not for long), all players. Because in small churches, everyone brings something of value.
My wife and I are currently experiencing the natural highs and lows of leading in a small church. I've never seen a church so poised for growth, and yet I'm excited because at the heart, growth isn't really the issue—being the true body of Christ is. Sure, we'll all rejoice when we begin to see God bringing dozens of new people in the doors each week. But for now, there's an excitement knowing we're simultaneously ready and still being prepared, yet the point is not how many people show up on Sundays but whether we ministered to God and those He's given us for now. We are a church full of individuals facing tough issues and rough times—which is yet another reason I feel blessed to be there. Because if there's one thing I know about God, it's that He loves hanging out with the down-and-outers!
I love that there doesn't have to be soft music playing behind every prayer, altar call or offering. I love that you can get to know—really know—the people sitting next to you, and that building real relationships isn't an option when it's impossible to hide among the crowds. (What crowds?!) And maybe more than anything, I love that small churches allow everyone to be a key, active part of the body. No sideline-sitters (or at least not for long), all players. Because in small churches, everyone brings something of value.
My wife and I are currently experiencing the natural highs and lows of leading in a small church. I've never seen a church so poised for growth, and yet I'm excited because at the heart, growth isn't really the issue—being the true body of Christ is. Sure, we'll all rejoice when we begin to see God bringing dozens of new people in the doors each week. But for now, there's an excitement knowing we're simultaneously ready and still being prepared, yet the point is not how many people show up on Sundays but whether we ministered to God and those He's given us for now. We are a church full of individuals facing tough issues and rough times—which is yet another reason I feel blessed to be there. Because if there's one thing I know about God, it's that He loves hanging out with the down-and-outers!
Mayday, Mayday!
I just discovered this 40-second clip and couldn't help but share it—first, because it's hilarious; and second, because I wonder if it doesn't hit a little too close to home for some of us. Are Christians—both individually and corporately—really responding to people's cries for help, or do we only respond when people speak exactly the same way we do—namely, in Christianese?
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Are We Doing This?
I caught this story on the wire a week ago and was waiting for someone to cover it more extensively. (Leave it to ESPN to produce a tear-jerker.) On the surface, it's an amazing example of true integrity and character. But beyond the Hallmark moment, I think every pastor will see a picture of what the church can be when we work in unity for kingdom purposes rather than for our own agendas or glory. Although that usually involves sacrificing personal victories and dreams, when we opt for this higher ground—as this story shows—the end result is always more powerful and life-changing.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
The Great Debate
While running down my list of blogs I read daily, I followed a slight rabbit trail and stumbled upon this slice of modern American church. Ignore the main post and just read the comments not for entertainment's sake, but for a pure example of the pointless battles we wage so passionately in Christendom today—against our own brothers and sisters! In this case, it's Tim Stevens, a pastor at a well-known yet typical community megachurch in Indiana, who gets the brunt of the acerbic responses. He recently wrote a book, Pop Goes the Church, that says we should—how dare he!—engage the culture by using relevant language. But as you'll see in the postings, he quickly becomes the emblem for an entire church movement.
Call it "seeker-sensitive," "community," nondenominational," "interdenominational" ... the decripts for this movement all seem to mesh into a similar form. Essentially, it's the "new" church of the past 20-plus years continuing to redefine itself today, trying to reach people via a cultural relevancy that has been declared absent in the church at large. On the other end, of course, lies those who remain dedicated not so much to tradition (although some would argue that) but to the purity of a gospel that should stand alone. In the words of one commenter, it believes you don't need to "prop Jesus up" with thematic messages, slick packaging and rock 'n' roll introductions. Both movements are multifaceted and represent a myriad of styles, methodologies and fundamental principles. Yet we continue to argue which is, for lack of a more precise measurement, better.
For some, the argument is over whether the church is actually broken. For others, it's a dispute over methodology. For those honest enough to admit their personal bias, it's a preference issue. But I encourage you to take a step back from whatever you feel is right and simply assess the heated reactions we often bring to the discussion table. Rather than truly discuss matters and search for truth, we're quick to fire our preloaded guns—once again, at our own brothers and sisters. The comments at the above link show we are at the point—and have been for years—of absurdity. Does this really matter in the grand scheme of things?
I'll admit, I still struggle with the debate between "seeker-sensitive" (I realize I'm over-generalizing here) and the more traditional (note: not necessarily antiquated). I've experienced the positives and negatives of both firsthand, and I've heard years' worth of impassioned arguments for and against each. I am part of an extended family that often derides the seeker-sensitive church's stigma of a watered-down gospel, lack of discipleship and entertainment-based services. This family believes whole-heartedly that a full dose of God's glory and His Spirit's powerful movement is what essentially transforms individuals—not styles or methods, although both play a role in church life. At the same time, my natural family is deeply steeped in a thriving movement that continues to expand. Lives are being changed. Those who have tossed church aside are being reignited with a newfound relevancy of what it means to be a Christian. While this family admits it struggles at times with the maturation of true disciples, it cannot deny that its methods are changing individuals, families and communities.
So where do I land? Most leaders have an opinion. I'll be honest enough to admit I'm still not there yet. At times I wonder if we've missed the boat—on both sides of the lake. I question this new church in America and its lasting effectiveness, just as I question the "old" church and its supposedly waning effectiveness. Both seem to pale when I look at some of the rising, revolutionary churches I see abroad. Yet all of them, at least in intent, aim for the ultimate goal of establishing God's kingdom on earth through the hearts of people. And to me, that makes the bigger issue not how we're "doing" church but whether we're actually being the church—which starts with our fervent love for God and one another.
Call it "seeker-sensitive," "community," nondenominational," "interdenominational" ... the decripts for this movement all seem to mesh into a similar form. Essentially, it's the "new" church of the past 20-plus years continuing to redefine itself today, trying to reach people via a cultural relevancy that has been declared absent in the church at large. On the other end, of course, lies those who remain dedicated not so much to tradition (although some would argue that) but to the purity of a gospel that should stand alone. In the words of one commenter, it believes you don't need to "prop Jesus up" with thematic messages, slick packaging and rock 'n' roll introductions. Both movements are multifaceted and represent a myriad of styles, methodologies and fundamental principles. Yet we continue to argue which is, for lack of a more precise measurement, better.
For some, the argument is over whether the church is actually broken. For others, it's a dispute over methodology. For those honest enough to admit their personal bias, it's a preference issue. But I encourage you to take a step back from whatever you feel is right and simply assess the heated reactions we often bring to the discussion table. Rather than truly discuss matters and search for truth, we're quick to fire our preloaded guns—once again, at our own brothers and sisters. The comments at the above link show we are at the point—and have been for years—of absurdity. Does this really matter in the grand scheme of things?
I'll admit, I still struggle with the debate between "seeker-sensitive" (I realize I'm over-generalizing here) and the more traditional (note: not necessarily antiquated). I've experienced the positives and negatives of both firsthand, and I've heard years' worth of impassioned arguments for and against each. I am part of an extended family that often derides the seeker-sensitive church's stigma of a watered-down gospel, lack of discipleship and entertainment-based services. This family believes whole-heartedly that a full dose of God's glory and His Spirit's powerful movement is what essentially transforms individuals—not styles or methods, although both play a role in church life. At the same time, my natural family is deeply steeped in a thriving movement that continues to expand. Lives are being changed. Those who have tossed church aside are being reignited with a newfound relevancy of what it means to be a Christian. While this family admits it struggles at times with the maturation of true disciples, it cannot deny that its methods are changing individuals, families and communities.
So where do I land? Most leaders have an opinion. I'll be honest enough to admit I'm still not there yet. At times I wonder if we've missed the boat—on both sides of the lake. I question this new church in America and its lasting effectiveness, just as I question the "old" church and its supposedly waning effectiveness. Both seem to pale when I look at some of the rising, revolutionary churches I see abroad. Yet all of them, at least in intent, aim for the ultimate goal of establishing God's kingdom on earth through the hearts of people. And to me, that makes the bigger issue not how we're "doing" church but whether we're actually being the church—which starts with our fervent love for God and one another.
