Well, Dee has completed the written portions of her comprehensive exams.  She is relieved to say the least, even though she doesn’t know her score as of yet.  Overall, she feels pretty good about the tests.

Since we visited Georgia this past week, in order to be with Grandaddy who had a heart procedure, and given the fact that Dee’s exams pushed her into study overdrive, we are still in the process of unpacking, rearranging, etc. in the new house.  Things are coming along quite well; just taking a good bit of time.  And lil’ Oz (our Yorkie, of course) is adjusting.  I think he likes the new place much better.

I’ve tried to dig into quite a bit of reading here lately.  On the menu for the next several weeks is Justification (N.T. Wright), Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony (Richard Bauckham), and re-reading Theology of Hope (Jurgen Moltmann).  I’ve still got to finish People of Bread (Vondey) and Satan and the Problem of Evil (Boyd), but my teachings at the church have pushed me into the previously mentioned works at the moment (to finish the latter two in the not-too-distant future).

These last few weeks I have been pondering the call of God regarding ministry.  What does it mean to be “called to full-time ministry?”  Are all Christians called to such?  How has professionalization affected our understanding of the call of God to minister to others?  Is our ordination processes in accordance with the biblical witness?  How does one decide which organization (denomination) within which to serve?  How does the church safeguard brothers and sisters from venturing into areas of ministry that may not be a good fit?  Amongst others…

I recently spoke with a young man who is stepping into a new place of ministry.  He was explaining to me how he had so many differing opinions from folks in his life concerning his upcoming ministry move.  Yet, I could tell that his deep desire was to hear the voice of God amidst the many voices.  And it’s not to say that God doesn’t speak through others.  We referenced Proverbs 11.14 – “Where there is no guidance, a people falls,
but in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (ESV).  However, it is to wonder how God deals with certain people and reveals to them their purpose.  A shrub ignites for Moses; a theophanic vision engulfs Isaiah; a confrontation from Christ blinds the apostle Paul.  So many throughout the Scriptures seem to have overwhelming manifestations of God’s presence and direction.  Yet, what of today?  From time to time, we hear of momentous encounters with God experienced by our sisters and brothers.  But is there room for subtle, intensifying calls?  If so, how do we discern such?

Peace,

Shannon

I would like to unpack a bit further the issue of our last post (Sunday-Monday divide).  I appreciate the comments shared thus far.  The replies have been very helpful.  Sonny brought out a good point concerning the transition that occurred in the church’s identity during and after the time of Constantine.  For those who are unfamiliar, Constantine (ca. 272-337 CE) was a Roman emperor who allegedly had a vision that instructed him to draw the symbol Chi Rho (the first two letters of the word “Christ” in Greek, as seen in the picture above) on his soldiers’ shields during the battle of the Milvian Bridge, Oct. 312 CE.  It is said that in the vision Constantine was instructed, “By this sign you shall conquer.”¹

After emerging victorious in this battle, Constantine attributed the victory to the God of the Christians.  Thus, he and his co-emperor at the time, Licinius, issued what is known as the edict of Milan in 313 CE, which called for religious toleration throughout the empire.²  Until this time, as Sonny mentioned, the Christians were a suffering, persecuted minority.  However, after this edict, Christianity began to take on a more respectable, prominent role in the empire.  That’s a good thing, right?  Not necessarily.

Slowly but surely, the church, in her identity and purpose, began to merge with the empire.  And by the end of the 4th century CE, “the emperor Theodosius finalized the conquest of Christianity, making the faith of the Christians the only legal religion in the empire… The Church had arrived, or so it appeared.  Thus arose ‘Christendom’ – an alliance between church and empire.”³  After this transition, the church began to define the faith in a more compartmentalized manner.  If the empire is understood to be “Christian” and many of its members, for the most part, live in an un-Christlike manner, then discipleship (living under Jesus’ lordship) is emphasized less and less in teaching what it means to be “saved”.  And when one falls prey to the myth of a Christian “religion,” acknowledging proper teachings/doctrines takes precedence over entering a new way of life (now lived in allegiance to Jesus).  Thus, we divorce what we “believe” from how we live.  And as Dietrich Bonhoeffer says, “Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”

As Jeremy, Mike, Dee and Jason have also alluded, salvation entails more than simply claiming to be a “Christian” by title, church membership, and/or experience (e.g. saying the “sinner’s prayer” however many years past).  Not to belittle the relevance of admitting to others (verbally) that we are “Christians,” being part of a local assembly, or surrendering one’s life to Christ in prayer – at the heart of “salvation” in the New Testament is “to participate in the kingdom of God, that long-awaited rule of God, in which the rebellion, with its corollaries of lust and violence and greed and self-seeking, is undone.”4  And, in order to participate in God’s Kingdom, there has to be a change brought about in a person’s life.  He or she must “repent” of the old world order and, by faith, pledge his or her life to Christ.

Such a faith-commitment means that one no longer lives in accordance with the rebellious worldly system (cf. Rom 12.2).  By the presence and power of the Holy Spirit, we surrender each area of our lives to Jesus’ lordship.  Meaning, all of life is sacred or lived out “as unto the Lord.”  As followers of Christ, it is important to realize that our relationship with God is inextricably connected with our relationship with others (even our enemies!).  That at the heart of being witnesses of Jesus is living and loving as Jesus did.  We enter into a Christlike, Spirit-empowered life of love for God and others.  And, of course, we don’t do this by our own strength or smarts.  It is through the empowering grace of God that we enter into this new order; a way of life inaugurated by our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Blessings,

Shannon

¹ Lee C. Camp, Mere Discipleship: Radical Christianity in a Rebellious World, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2008), pp. 25-27.

² See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_I

³ Camp, Mere Discipleship, p. 26.

4 Ibid., p. 81.

I was thinking this morning about how our churches (for the large part) seem to be homogeneous, meaning, the people in our churches all seem to look alike and be very much alike.  I wondered is there a place for the marginalized of our society in our church, or would we marginalize them the same way the world does, just because they are different from us?

For example, what about those people who are mentally or physically disabled?  I have no doubt that our churches would feel compassion for these people.  I have no doubt that our churches would offer to help these people by offering food or money.  I have no doubt that our churches would pray for these people, but I wonder if we would make a place for them amidst us.

These are two very different concepts.  The first allows us to help the disabled.  But, in the second, we are opening up our world and allowing them to contribute and actually help us.  This would take much patience and love, and I am sure that it would be much quicker for me to cook a meal for my family than it would be for someone who is physically disabled. 

This is the crux of the matter.  Do we have time not only to give but to allow someone else to give to and minister to us?  Can we slow down and see that Jesus didn’t just give handouts to people and promise to pray for them; he spent time with them and allowed them to minister to him.

I have recently read about a community begun my Jean Vanier (a priest) called L’Arche (pronounced Larsh).  The name means “ark” in French.  In this community, disabled people live with those who are not disabled and they all contribute to life in the community.  After all, we are to be a community – contributing to each other.

Jean Vanier and Stanley Hauerwas co-wrote a book entitled Living Gently in a Violent World: The Prophetic Witness of Weakness.  In this book, Vanier describes his community and makes some compelling arguments about how this accurately reflects the heart of God.   He even makes an argument along the lines that in order to be a “Friend of God,” a phrase which I think is often misused by many people, one must embrace the weakness and frailty in one’s society the way Jesus did.

Hauerwas takes a somewhat more political view and argues that we must, as a society, allow the disabled to find their place in our communities.  We have become a society where we are focused on cures, and we have no time for care.  When we cannot cure someone, we want to hide him/her away in shame.  But, this is not the desire of God, nor is it healthy for our communities.

I agree with the two authors of this book and would encourage anyone to read it.  It is not long (less than 100 pages after you take out the table of contents and other things of that nature), but the book was heart-wrenching and helped me to see that ministry is not always about doing things for people who have less than you – sometimes, it is about allowing them to minister to you.  You may see yourself change right before your eyes.

Blessings,

Dee

Recently, I read a thought-provoking article by John Ortberg called, “Your Hidden Curriculum,” found in the winter 2009 volume of Leadership Journal (a good journal I might add that can be found at Barnes & Noble). Below the title, Ortberg asks – “What do people learn from you about the Christian life?  Sometimes it’s what you never intended to teach.”  The author contends that if there ever is a contradiction between our “formal curriculum” (small group studies, sermons, lessons on prayer, etc.) and our “hidden curriculum,” folks always believe the “hidden curriculum.”  He describes the hidden curriculum of a church as

“Who gets fawned over, and who gets ignored?  How do the staff and leaders get along when they’re off the platform and think nobody’s looking?  How does a small group respond when someone shares a problem that is untidy and unresolved?  Do leaders respond with panic or irritation or confidence or gentleness when a problem strikes?  When there is a conflict, do people face it head on or go into avoidance mode?  Does the church staff run on fear?” (p. 50) 

A few months back, some dear friends of ours visited from Georgia. We were hanging out in the living room for some good ole’ conversation over coffee (or soda for some).  Knowing that the couple recently relocated, I asked if they had yet to find a local church.  The young lady shared with us how she and her husband visited several churches.  One particular congregation (of the same denomination of which they were part in their last locale) seemed to be very promising at first.  However, after the announcements were given before the congregation, our friend said that she was greatly dissatisfied with how inwardly-focused the church was.  

Now, if you took a sweeping glance in the bulletin, there seemed to be no way to arrive at such a conclusion.  There were all kinds of “ministry groups,” “community projects,” etc. that had the trappings of a “successful” church.  But our friends heard and observed something different than what was listed in the bulletin (or on the church website).  They observed folks talking about various fellowships, get-togethers, luncheons, trips, etc. that centered around the satisfaction of those attending.  What was missing was a missional message laced within the conversations and actions of those attending, particularly the leadership.  

Thankfully, our friends did in fact find a local assembly in which to participate; one whose body-life looked more like that of Jesus. However, this conversation, coupled with Ortberg’s article, sparked some questions in my own mind about the traditioning (discipleship) of the church.  What exactly are we passing on?  What legacy of love are our children learning?  If we slow down a bit and prayerfully observe our attitudes, actions, conversations and vision, are we leading people in the way that Jesus is the Way?  Eugene Peterson’s excellent work, The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus is the Way, highlights the ways by which Christ embodied the way of salvation.  It’s an interesting and helpful critique.  

• Do I affirm undying love for Jesus but treat others around me in an unChristlike manner?
• If I claim to love all persons, do I surround myself with friends who are only like me?
• Do I profess that all persons are important and then rush past everyone without slowing to hear their concerns?
• Do I preach reckless abandon in worship and then hoard my resources and satisfy my own impulses for stuff?
• Am I undermining God’s love for all by my negative conversations and snide remarks concerning others?
• Do I pray at home with my family or only at church when called upon?

Asking myself these questions and more,

Shannon