Category: Church (Page 18 of 59)

It’s a Big Church and That’s OK

WelcomeMat

Summer seems to be a time of year when we’re more likely to interact with new people in our church building: more visitors, more vacationers, more of our community, more people who’ve just moved to our city, more folks looking for a church home.

We can be tempted to not personally welcome visitors in our church building for fear that visitor may actually turn out to be a 15-year member. We’re embarrassed when we ask an unfamiliar face if they’re visiting and they inform us they’ve been at this church longer than we have. It’s awkward. So we’re paralyzed and we don’t do anything. And an hour later we’ve got twenty visitors at Cracker Barrel saying, “That’s not a very friendly church.”

Long time members don’t help when we become offended if another member doesn’t know our name. The way to respond to another member who mistakes you for a visitor is not, “I’ve been coming here for 27 years! How long have you been here?”

If we’re going to be a welcoming church in the name and manner of Jesus, we’ve got to first get over ourselves. This is a big church; and that’s OK.

You can’t be embarrassed about not knowing someone’s name. How could you possibly know everybody? It’s unrealistic. And you can’t be offended if somebody doesn’t know your name. How could everybody know you? Why should everybody know you? It’s sinful, really. This is a not a 200-member church. It’s a big church; and that’s OK.

In fact, here at Central, we’re trying to make that something we say when we find ourselves in that awkward position of mistaking a member for a visitor. Both people in the awkward situation need to look at each other with love in their eyes and patience in their hearts and say, “It’s a big church; and that’s OK.”

We did it together this past Sunday and we’re going to do it again this coming Sunday. We want to be a friendly and welcoming church this summer. And it’s going to take all of us to pull it off.

Peace,

Allan

Everybody is Welcome

JesusEatingWithSinners

Jesus welcomed everybody and he made everybody feel welcome. Everybody. He didn’t reject anyone. He ate and drank with tax collectors and teachers of the law. He dined with prostitutes and Pharisees. Men and women. Rich and poor. Jew and Gentile. The powerful and the weak. Part of the huge scandal with Jesus is that, with him, everybody is welcome. No discrimination. No pre-judgment. He opened up his arms and said, “Come on! Everybody!”

And that’s not normal.

You’re only supposed to share meals and show hospitality to people just like you. Before you go to someone’s house or before you invite someone to your house, make sure they’re just like you. Check their voting record. Read their bumper stickers. Find out where their kids go to school.

Jesus refused. Everybody is welcome.

You realize Jesus was in a small group with a tree-hugging liberal tax collector and a right-wing tea-party Zealot? He hung out with poor fishermen and a couple of guys with horrible anger issues and a betrayer (I see Judas as that person in the small group who goes home every Sunday night and gets on Facebook: “You can’t believe what Thaddeus is going through!).

A temptation for us is to worry about who’s going to sit by us at church. Some of us won’t join a small group or commit to a Bible class because we’re worried: “Who am I going to wind up with in there?” There’s a temptation not to lead for that very reason: “I can’t control who’s going to show up.”

Instead of trying to control that, why not give it up to God?

“God, please bring people to our church I can minister to. Lord, please put people in our class you can reach with your love and hope through me. God, please put somebody next to me who needs me.”

And then no matter who sits next to you or who shows up in your class or small group, they were delivered there by God. That’s a person God brought to you for his purposes. It takes all the pressure off. God, this is your class. Lord, this is your church. When you pray that prayer and when you show up with that mind of Christ, everybody is welcome.

Peace,

Allan

Eating and Drinking with Losers

“When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.” ~Luke 14:13

“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” ~Matthew 9:11

“Bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame!” ~Luke 14:21

“Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.” ~Matthew 11:19

The gospels show us that the Kingdom of God is a big party with a bunch of losers. Jesus wants us to see that God’s idea of a great time is a huge feast with a bunch of people you wouldn’t be caught dead with on a Saturday night. Or any other time of the week. Jesus came eating and drinking with losers.

And you are one of those losers. So am I. We are all losers together at the table of our King.

We’re all coming to the table with a limp. We’ve all got a wound or a chronic pain. We come to the table with a horrible story or a distorted view or a serious issue. All of us are maimed. Or dysfunctional. Or disabled. And broken. All of us.

The Pharisees at these dinner parties — the ones “watching closely,” the ones criticizing Jesus and complaining — are so self-righteous and smug with their nice and tidy lives in their pressed and flowing robes. They set themselves apart from and above the losers. “They’re sinners; but we’re saved. Their lives are a mess; but we’ve got it all together. They need a whole bunch of God’s grace and forgiveness; we just need a little grace to get us over the top.”

No! In Luke 14, Jesus says, at these dinner parties, don’t choose a place of honor for yourself. You’re not as great as you think you are. And these people you categorize as losers are my cherished children.

We are all sinners, every one of us. We have all sinned and fallen terribly short of the glory of God. And we are all being saved together by the lavish grace of our Father. Yes, the ground is level at the foot of the cross. And, yes, all the seats are the same around the table of our Lord.

Scripture says we’re all going to eat and drink together with Jesus forever. We’re all going to take our places with him around the table at the wedding feast of the Lamb. And I think Sundays are the warm-up. I think Sunday mornings are party practice. Sunday mornings together are like the chips and hot sauce to the fajitas and enchiladas. Eating and drinking with sinners, sharing a meal with broken losers, with each other, together on Sundays, teaches us how to live together. It’s one of the places we learn to bear one another’s burdens. We learn to help each other, to encourage each other, to challenge each other.

We look at all the faces around the Lord’s Table on Sundays and they’re all looking back at us. No doubt, seeing very clearly our messes, knowing fully our sins. And, yet, still choosing to eat and drink with us. And we know at that moment that Jesus was crucified for the lousy company he kept. And he still is.

Peace,

Allan

Solitary Christian

I love Jesus, but I can do without the Church. Jesus is Lord, but I follow him my own way, by myself. I’m a Christian, but I don’t need the Church. I don’t need to be part of a church to be a Christian.

Um… I’m not sure Christians have a choice.

The term “solitary Christian” is an oxymoron. Like Jumbo Shrimp. Rap Music. Military Intelligence. You can’t be “clearly confused,” you can’t fight a “civil war,” there are no “paid volunteers” or “open secrets.” And there’s no such thing as a “solitary Christian.”

Yes, there were times when our Lord went alone to the desert or up on a mountain to pray. But it’s much more typical in the Gospels for Jesus to be interacting with people. The eyewitnesses paint a portrait of Jesus consistently mixing with the multitudes, meeting strangers on the road, hanging out with friends and family. The most repeated picture is of Jesus eating and drinking with gusto in the homes of sinners and saints, with prostitutes and Pharisees, men and women, Jews and Gentiles. He was a people person.

Jesus was a supremely social, communal person. Whatever it was the Father called the Son to do, Jesus had no interest in doing it by himself. Just a casual glance at Jesus is enough to tell us today that we are living fully as God-created humans, not in our solitude and silence, not by ourselves, but in our connections and relationships with others. If we’re going to be Jesus-followers, then we have to be people people. You’re not really a Christian if you’re doing it by yourself.

Think about it: every time they asked Jesus, “What’s the single most important command?” he flatly refused. Instead, he always answered, “No, no, no. There’s not just one most important command; there are two: Love God with everything you’ve got AND love your neighbor as yourself.” Almost like one of those makes no sense without the other.

God in Christ is encountered, not in a solitary prayer in a closet, not in meditating on a mountain, or coming to the garden alone. In the Bible, Jesus mainly shows us God, reveals God to us, allows us to see God and experience God, at a dinner table, sharing good food and drink and conversation and hospitality with others.

We need God, yes. And we so desperately need one another.

Peace,

Allan

The Midlife Church Crisis

I’ve read an article this past week in Christianity Today about the growing number of folks in their 50s and 60s who are leaving their churches. As faith communities focus increasingly more on programs for children and activities for the youth and targeting young families, older Christians around us are experiencing a midlife crisis of faith. But they’re not wrestling with their beliefs, they’re struggling with their role now in the body of Christ. Empty nesters are facing different challenges now: relationship shifts, loneliness, health issues, death. And they’re attending and participating less and less in the life of their churches because they’re feeling more and more like their particular place in life is being ignored.

The author of the short article, Michelle Van Loon, took an informal survey of 500 Christians about their church experiences as they had grown older. Almost half of the respondents said they had scaled back their involvement from what it had been a decade earlier. Those who had downshifted or left their churches cited several reasons: weariness with church politics, increased career demands, significant time devoted to caring for parents or grandchildren, health issues, and a sense that somehow they had outgrown their church.

“I’m tired of the same programs year after year,” one said. “I want deeper relationships with fewer people, more spiritual exercises like prayer and meditation than the canned studies our church offers.”

Now, here’s the part of the article that really spoke to me and confirmed for me a whole lot of what we’re doing here at Central:

“Anecdotally speaking, it seemed that those over 40 who discovered meaningful service, worship, and connections reported that their church was committed to intergenerational ministry rather than family-centered, child-focused programming. Though there is some overlap between the two ministry philosophies, the congregations that concentrate on families with children under 18 unintentionally marginalize those who don’t fit the profile. Churches with intergenerational ministry have invested in building connections between members of different ages and nurturing fruitfulness in every season of life.”

I am completely sold, and have been for a while, on fostering an intergenerational culture in our churches. From our Running the Race series a couple of summers ago to our Sticky Buddy initiatives today, we’re trying to do more and more of this here at Central. But it’s tough. It goes against our human nature; it certainly goes against the grain of our culture. It’s hard work trying to integrate our small groups. It’s not easy to get older people to outdoor family picnics and activities or to get our younger families and students to attend potlucks or game nights with our older crowd. It takes careful planning and a high commitment to the importance of intergenerational relationships to come up with new and better ways of getting our people together.

We’re trying to do it in our worship assemblies with more interactive time during the Lord’s meal, with more storytelling and sharing, with more prayer time together in the pews. Our student ministry is in its second year of discipleship “tracks” that pair our teens up with a couple of adults to explore knowledge, community, inner life, and mission avenues of spiritual growth together. Our current “Holy Sexuality” series is a carefully scheduled “congregational conversation” about everything from raising holy kids to identifying and working on sexuality issues in our own marriages to recovering from sexual abuse. Our purity ceremony is an event for the whole church family. Our second Sticky Buddy event is coming up next month.

Some of our ideas are better than others. Not everything we try wildly succeeds. But we believe that if we spend most of our “church time” only with our peers and people of our own age and stage of life, we’ll produce shallow, inwardly-focused Christians. Intergenerational churches willing to do the hard work that’s required, we think, will turn out Christians who understand sacrifice and service, who have a much broader view of the Kingdom of God and who’s in it, and who are appreciated and highly valued at every stage of life. We’re committed to it here at Central.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The process of de-DFW’ing my children has not been slow and steady; it’s been rapid and sure. Valerie bought a pair of cowboy boots less than six months after our move to Amarillo. All the pre-sets in her truck are on country music stations, and have been for a while. All three of the girls prefer the locally owned restaurants and coffee shops instead of the national chains — The Palace and Texas Tea are the favorites — and they’ll defend them like they’re members of the family. They complain about a long travel distance to the other side of town (ten minutes) and they praise the big sky and the beautiful sunsets.

It was seriously hammered home to me this weekend just how “rural” we’ve all become when we spent more than three hours with Carley as she showed her rabbit at the Randall County Junior Livestock Show. Oliver, a six-month-old cinnamon breed who’s been living in a large cage in my garage since September, didn’t take first place. But both Carley and Ollie did us proud in their own understated ways. She didn’t drop Oliver while moving him from the carrier to the judge’s boxes in front of the crowd like a few of the participants did. And Ollie behaved himself very well for the awkward manipulations he had to endure and for the pictures afterward.

Yes, my youngest daughter is in FFA. No, I never would have imagined that four years ago. And, of course, I couldn’t be more proud of her and more grateful that we live with such wonderful people in Amarillo.

Peace,

Allan

The Corporate Life

Regular readers here are aware of my deep conviction that salvation is a corporate event. No one is saved alone, no one is a Christian by herself, no one worships or serves in isolation. God draws us to him in community, we are baptized into a community, we are transformed by the Spirit in the context of community. But in an increasingly individualistic society such as ours in the U. S., those ideas are more and more marginalized and rendered almost antiquated. In our culture, an individual’s rights and freedoms now trump those of the community. Almost any community.

Nobody watches broadcast TV anymore; we watch Netflix and DVDs and DVR’ed programs by ourselves where and when we please. Nobody listens to the radio anymore; we program our own playlists and listen with our own ear buds any where and any time we like. And if the civic club or the social group I belong to acts in any way that infringes on my own personal choices, I leave and join a new club. Or I start my own club, even if that club is just a chat-site or a Facebook group. And if any organization is seen by the society as encroaching on anyone’s individual desires, that group faces pressure from the society to relax its standards. Community must bow to the individual.

That means the members of our churches today are more prone to bristle when congregational leadership wants to hold them to high standards of discipleship. They are more likely to take offense and leave when they’re expected to behave in certain orthodox ways. At the very least, they’re bent towards ignoring it when the church calls for disciplined living in a particular community of faith.

That’s not the only reason that church numbers are going down across this country. But it’s a factor.

In an essay for Christianity Today, Andy Crouch calls this the “erosion of corporate identity.” He observes that Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, in her dissent in the recent Hobby Lobby case, wrote that “religious organizations exist to foster the interests of persons subscribing to the same religious faith.” Now, you and I both know that’s wrong. We know that Israel was saved and called by God to exist for the sake of the nations. We know that the Church is saved and called to sacrifice and live for the sake of others. But our culture doesn’t behave this way. So communities that try to behave this way are attacked or, at the very least undermined and marginalized by society:

“An individualistic world is scandalized by any community whose boundaries threaten the freedom of the individuals within it. Such a world promotes transactional relationships, overseen by the only form of community that remains: a centralized and powerful nation-state. Rather than existing to protect small- and medium-sized communities, the state views them with suspicion. Or that state redefines them, as did Justice Ginsburg, by reducing them to the most venal of motives.”

Corporate life in the U. S. is withering. Corporate life is what gave our forefathers their sense of belonging and identity and their platform through which to work for the greater good. But it’s fading fast. Small- and medium-sized businesses, civic organizations, and churches are on a rapid decline. Fewer and fewer of us have deep connections to the small communities that used to mediate life. Forty-one percent of children in the United States are born out of wedlock, so even the most fundamental and committed of  communities — the family — is  in trouble.

So, how are we to respond?

I believe we commit ourselves even more to the countercultural, subversive, corporate reality known as the local church. In all of its imperfections and sins, its many problems and issues — we throw ourselves into it with everything we’ve got. God’s Church should make a stronger claim on us than the state. According to our Lord, it makes a deeper claim on us even than our families. And by being stronger and deeper than the family and the state, your church provides a loving and loyal family for those who don’t have one and an eternal identity and community for us all. Yes, the church is going to demand a great deal from you. The church will ask that you humbly sacrifice and serve, that you eagerly give and work, that you commit and defer for the sake of others. But it also gives us the corporate life that we were created to enjoy, the only life that resembles the mutual love and relationship the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit have enjoyed forever and brought us into existence to share.

Peace,

Allan

« Older posts Newer posts »