Missional Churches

I heard the other day that churches tend to fall into four models: 1) The Refuge; 2) Attractional; 3) In Transition, and; 4) Missional.

The Refuge church is like a family that I can go to for safety, healing and where everyone believes the same things I do. "Maybe if we all just hang in there, we'll make it until Jesus rescues us." I think of Charles Laughton in the 1939 version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Playing Quasimodo, the hunchback, he swings in to rescue Esmeralda from being burned at the stake, carries her high up above the square to the top of the cathedral and, holding her above his head to the roar of the crowd in the square below, cries out, "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

The Attractional church model tends to focus on building great buildings and programs. "We've got something great for you--so come and join us." In the U.S., we have some wonderful mega-churches that can compete with Disneyland and the Mall as a must-see destination. This is American competition as applied to religion. And, in general, smaller churches have a hard time competing, like a local hardware store compared to Home Depot.

The Transitional church is the one that may be fed up with its former model, may be in decline. It is at the end of one model and trying to figure out where to go next. Or, it may even be the new church-plant that is seeking to become established.

There is a new and exciting trend these days. A new model of church that many are calling the Missional church. It seeks to move out of merely existing as a refuge for its members (although there are always elements of refuge in healthy churches). And, although it may have elements that attract seekers to come--it is not focused on in-house programs as a way of reaching others. Instead, it is a model of engagement with the surrounding community in a meaningful and loving way. It is primarily a "go-ye" rather than a "come-ye" approach.

Check out an old Ingrid Bergman film sometime, The Inn of the Sixth Happiness. The missionary, Gladys Aylward, lives out a life service in a northern province of China until the invasion of the Japanese empire through Manchuria. She serves the local Manchu lord as the "Chief Foot Inspector." And even though she has a thankless job, she becomes known as Jennai, "the one who loves," by everyone in the province. That is the Missional church model. The scene of her local feudal lord coming to faith is powerful.

Now don't get me wrong, I think that we can benefit from all of these models of church. But in my current journey with Jesus, I feel Him drawing me towards this new (old?) approach. Karl Barth, early 20th century German theologian, once defined the church as "community for the sake of the world." I like to modify this slightly to "Christ-centered community for the sake of the world." That means that church itself exists primarily for the sake of others.

So, even though Jesus said that He would "build his church and the gates of Hades will not overcome it" (Matt. 16: 18)--His instructions to the church were "go into all the world and make Jesus-followers out of every ethnicity and culture, baptizing them in the name of the Tri-une God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit), and teaching them to obey everything I have taught you..." (Matt. 28: 18-20).

The downside of the Missional model is that it is much scarier. As Jesus says to the 72 disciples in Luke 10: 3, "Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves." That is not a pleasant thought. It is not a very attractive model. "Hey! Come to our church. We promise you will feel as secure as a lamb thrown into the middle of a pack of wolves!"

And yet this is the call. Who wants to join me on this wild new adventure?

To None of the Above

On December 28, 2012, there was an interesting op-ed piece in the Los Angeles Times that caught my attention, "Spiritual but not Religious" by Corinna Nicolaou. It was a nice companion piece to the lead story that ran on CBS Sunday Morning on December 16th, "None of the Above,' a reaction to a recent Pew Study. Both of these stories share one thing in common, they are describing a growing segment of society who choose "none of the above" when asked their religious affiliation.

This does not mean that Nones do not believe in God or some kind of higher power. In fact, the percentage of Nones who are Atheists is very low. Majorities of Nones pray, may attend church and claim to have deeply spiritual experiences. What they have in common is a disconnection from traditional organized religion.

One very interesting and important phenomenon happened in the 1990's. In the 70's and 80's, the Nones were around 7-8%. Then in the 90's, they jumped up to 14-15%. Although the Pew Study is a different one, it says the number has risen to 19.6%.

Bradley R. E. Wright, in Christians Are Hate-Filled Hypocrites...and Other Lies You've Been Told, points out that the 90's saw the rise of conservative political activism among Evangelicals, led by groups like "Moral Majority." The conjecture is that some Christians who were not as conservative as these organizations moved away from their church affiliation during this time and have left formal association.

Nicolaou, in her article, refers to American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us, by Robert Putnam and David Campbell. "Putnam and Campbell say the rise in Nones appears to be tied to the perception, particularly among young people, that religion and conservative politics go hand in hand. I can't wrap my head around a God who is more concerned with our private parts than with the content of our hearts."

As someone who believes in the Gospel, my heart is saddened to think that there is a significant group who may not hear the good news because the church cannot push through cultural barriers to reach them. In 1 Cor. 9: 20-22, Paul discusses how he "incarnated" the Gospel to whatever cultural group he was trying to reach for a higher goal. "To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews...To those not under [Torah] I became like one under [Torah]... so as to win those not under [Torah]...to the weak I became weak, to win the weak..." (1 Cor. 9: 20-22).

"I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings" (1 Cor. 9: 23).

It seems that, if we are going to reach this growing segment of our population with the Gospel, we are going to have to be careful not to mix our religious identity with our political identity. It is not wrong as members of the church to be good citizens and participate in the political process. But when our politics become part of the church "brand", then we begin shutting the door to a potential soul whose politics may differ from us. (See my blog, The Church and Politics, 6/14/12).

If I am sent to preach the Gospel to the Nones, how can I "become a None, so as to reach the Nones?"

Learning from Christmas for the Whole Year

I had a different kind of Christmas this year. I went through a lot of my normal rituals: putting up the decorations; making my special Almond Butter Toffee; buying and wrapping gifts; reading Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol and then watching several of my favorite movies, etc. But a few things were also different.

First, our former church closed at the end of March and we are currently working on gathering leaders for our new church. However, this means we did not do our usual free gift-wrapping outreach. Nor did we have a Christmas Eve candlelight service. Nor did we put on a special service on the Sunday before Christmas. So, my church routine has been disrupted. (Now, we did have a couple of new Christmas experiences with our new and growing church family. So, the promise of new traditions is awakened.)

Second, we did not have any celebration with either my family or my wife's family. I realized that this was the first time in my life that I did not spend time with some part of our extended family, ever.

Third, I opened only one gift on Christmas day--and I had both purchased it and wrapped it myself (although the label said it was from my wife).

Now, please don't get me wrong. I am not complaining--just observing. I am not sure if this means something, but it does feel like a kind of life-passage.

As I thought about it on the day after Christmas, I realized that it was one of the nicest Christmases I've had in awhile. My wife and I read the Christmas story to one another on Christmas Eve and we were  both overcome with a lot of emotion. Tears flowed. The wonder of what God has done for us washed over us.

Then we had friends join us to watch The Nativity Story and--more tears.

I had gotten gifts for friends and their children who seemed to really enjoy them. I played Scrabble with three young'ns for whom it was a first time. I had a blast.

In Acts 20: 35, Paul quotes Jesus (from an unknown source), "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Perhaps this is really the "true meaning of Christmas". God gave the greatest gift of all time. As Paul says in 2 Cor. 9: 15: "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"

In The Nativity Story, Mary says to the old shepherd, "We have all been given a gift." God's generosity overflowed to all mankind. And we have all been given the greatest of all gifts.

And at the same time, we have been shown what a blessing true generosity can be. In the end, it is not about what we get, but about what we give. Our generosity is a reflection of the very heart of God:
"For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich" (2 Cor. 8: 9).

Don't let such godliness wait only for the Christmas season. Let us determine to grow in the coming year so that we "excel in this grace of giving" (2 Cor. 8: 7) all the time.

Newtown, Longfellow and Christmas

On Friday, a young man in Newtown, Connecticut, shot his mother, leaving her dead. Then he took his mother's guns and proceeded to Sandy Hook Elementary School where she had worked and shot and killed 20 young students and 6 adults. Finally, he turned the gun on himself.

A shocked nation reacted with increasing anguish over a weekend of non-stop news coverage. And this week, each day, there are multiple funeral services with undersized coffins and grieving parents who will never get to see their precious innocent children bloom into firemen and teachers and business owners and pastors and parents themselves.

Perhaps making the grief more severe is the fact that we are so close to Christmas. The holiday that promises to lift our spirits and to help us bond to our extended families. Most of us feel compassion and empathy for the families for whom the season will probably just be a reminder of what they are missing.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of the greatest American poets, experienced incredible pain in his life. His first wife died when he was young, leaving him to grieve for the next seven years. His next wife bore him five children. But in 1861, she was tragically burned to death. Longfellow hated the Civil War that followed shortly thereafter. His oldest son enlisted and was seriously wounded in battle and sent home to recover.

Tending to his son's injuries and seeing so many other wounded soldiers, he began to anguish over the tragedy of the war. It was on Christmas Day, 1863, that he listened to the church bells of Cambridge ringing. He asked the question, "Where is the promise of 'Peace on earth' that was announced by the angels on the first Christmas?"

And so he wrote a wonderful poem that explored that very question. In the midst of National grief, violence and tragedy, where is the peace that God promised? When it was set to music almost ten years later, it was hugely popular in both America and Europe (omitting the 4th and 5th verses specific to the Civil War--but included here):

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along th'unbroken song
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men."

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn, the households born
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, goodwill to men."

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day--
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

No matter what you encounter during this season, "God is not dead, nor doth he sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, so--Peace on Earth; Goodwill to Men!"

Jeremiah and Christmas Trees

When I was a student at UCLA (many moons ago), I took a very literal approach to the reading of scripture. We might today describe this as a "fundamentalist" way of reading the Bible. Such an approach says that, if I can read the words and they mean something in my current life situation, then there is no further reason to study. The choice is simply to obey it.

That is how I used to read Jeremiah 10: 3-5:
"For the customs of the peoples are worthless; they cut a tree out of the forest, and a craftsman shapes it with his chisel. They adorn it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so it will not totter. Like a scarecrow in a melon patch, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them; they can do no harm nor can they do any good.'"

I read this and, since it sounded somewhat like the description of a Christmas Tree, I knew that I must simply obey. I stopped participating in this tradition. And the feeling of spiritual superiority that came from taking such a stand was self-authenticating. I didn't have a Christmas Tree for about seven years.

The problem was that my understanding of Jeremiah was based on bad exegesis. (Exegesis is the science of interpreting what the writer meant when he wrote so that we can draw proper conclusions.)

George Eldon Ladd, former professor of New Testament Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena describes the Bible as "the Word of God written in the words of men (people) in history."

The Word of God...
We know that the scriptures are "God-breathed" (2 Tim. 3:16), and therefore, the Bible is God's authoritative and unique Word to us and is His faithful guide for all faith and practice. We do not look to tradition or church hierarchy or new words of prophecy in the same way that we look to the Word of God. This is perhaps the key distinguishing feature of the Protestant Reformation--sola scripture--meaning that we depend solely on the Bible for our authority.

...written in the words of people...
Yet, God did not write the words in the Bible directly (except the Ten Commandments and the words on the walls of Babylon). He used people--apostles and prophets--to write the 66 books. Therefore, we talk about the five books "of Moses." Jesus talks about Moses and David writing material. That is why we can tell the difference between Luke and Paul's writing styles--because God used human vessels to write the actual words, even though they reflect His Word to us.

...in history.
Finally, those words were written at a time in history. Moses wrote his books to a nation delivered from slavery, needing to understand their own history and national identity and unique calling to be the People of God. Paul wrote letters to specific churches who were going through struggles. For instance, 1st Corinthians is obviously written in response to oral reports and a letter describing specific ethical and theological problems in Corinth--lawsuits, incest, eating meat offered to idols, etc.

So, let's look at Jeremiah. The tradition of the Christmas Tree came out of Germany in the 15th or 16th century. And Christ was not born for hundreds of years after Jeremiah. So, what was he thinking about when he wrote this verse?

Idols were figures that were carved out of wood and then covered in gold or silver leaf. Then, they were nailed in place on a family altar or temple altar. Sometimes they would be paraded through the streets. They represented gods that were worshiped by the pagans or even the spirits of departed relatives.

So, Jeremiah was obviously mocking the ludicrous practice of worshiping something made by human hands. I don't know about you, but I have never worshiped a Christmas Tree. It might be more likely that people are worshiping their new car than their tree. Instead, our tree has a decorative purpose for the holidays. And, topped with a star, it becomes a reminder of the Christmas story and the blessing of the incarnation of the Son of God over 2000 years ago.

So--enjoy your Christmas Tree this year. But always use it as a way to remember the glorious and blessed arrival of Immanuel, God-With-Us.

Manger and Cross

"While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in [swaddling] cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn" (Luke 2: 6-7).


My Italian grandmother came to America when she was 20 years old, so her English was very broken. At Christmastime, we would sit down to a great dinner and she would say, "Mangia! Mangia! Y'eat! Y'eat!"

The English word for a feeding trough is "manger" which comes from the French manger, which means "to eat."

On the surface, the story seems to simply tell us the humble facts of the incarnation of the Son of God. The poor and desperate couple, traveling under great duress, must make do with whatever is at hand to accommodate the new baby. I have heard modern stories of parents using shoe-boxes or dresser drawers in a pinch for the same purpose. Whether the manger was a crude wooden crib, or a stone trough carved into a cave wall, the point is that the parents needed to improvise with what was at hand.

But every time I gaze on the nativity scene that I set up every year in my living room, I think of the profound truth that is conveyed to us in this simple word "manger." And I am sure that our loving God was painting a living picture that conveys so much more than Mary and Joseph could have intended or even known at the time.

Jesus, in John's gospel, tells us: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world" (John 6: 51). This important passage is John's commentary on the Eucharist. Jesus' body is the manna from heaven which is given to sustain the life of the world, a truth that is re-enacted every time that Christians eat the communion bread.

And it is no coincidence that the city of David, where the Holy Child was born, is called Beth-lechem, which literally means "house of bread."

Paul, in the earliest "words of institution" for commemorating "the Lord's Supper," says, "'This is my body, which is for you...'" (1 Cor. 11: 24). So often we mentally insert the word "broken" or, as in Luke's gospel, "given." But these are notably absent here.

Jesus' body IS for us. That is, the incarnation itself, the en-flesh-ment of God the Son, was accomplished for our sakes. The manna from God that we needed to give us real life was totally for our sakes. And God showed us this reality by placing the Bread of Life in a manger, the place of eating.

Of course, the bread is only half of the Eucharist. There are two elements: bread AND wine. This baby, laid in a feeding trough, is destined to spill His blood in order to reconcile the world to God. And so, Christmas is the first part of the frame. The picture will not be complete until the second frame is completed, the pouring out of the blood of the new covenant on the cross.

"Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink...This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your forefathers ate manna and died, but he who feeds on this bread will live forever" (John 6: 54-55, 58).

And that is the picture of our salvation. Bread and wine. Body and blood. Manger and cross.

The Cut-Flower Syndrome

Will Herberg was an American Jewish sociologist and theologian who turned from his Communist roots to join the Conservative movement during the days of William F. Buckley, Jr.

In Judaism and Modern Man he wrote:
"The attempt made in recent decades by secularist thinkers to disengage the moral principles of western civilization from their scripturally based religious context, in the assurance that they could live a life of their own as "humanistic" ethics, has resulted in our "cut flower culture." Cut flowers retain their original beauty and fragrance, but only so long as they retain the vitality that they have drawn from their now-severed roots; after that is exhausted, they wither and die. So with freedom, brotherhood, justice, and personal dignity — the values that form the moral foundation of our civilization. Without the life-giving power of the faith out of which they have sprung, they possess neither meaning nor vitality."

In other words, flowers still look like flowers when they are cut and put in a vase. But they are doomed to wither and die. So it is with Western ethics. Germinated from a Judeo-Christian foundation, the flower is beautiful. But now, severed from the roots of faith, it is destined to wither and die.

In my opinion, we are in the withering phase of "cut flower culture" in the USA and following hard after the almost completely dead phase being experienced in much of Western Europe. There is a thinning veneer of Christian ethics being replaced by an ethics based on relativism and humanistic philosophy devoid of God.

But my purpose with this blog is not to whine and complain about the post-Christian culture emerging in the West. Instead, I want to look at the danger of the "cut-flower syndrome" in the church.

The church is always one generation away from extinction. Vital Christian faith is not passed genetically like hair color. We cannot simply assume that our children will "catch" it because they are our kids or because they go to church with us. We must introduce them to Jesus and call them to a vital and life-long discipleship to Him.

In the same way, we cannot assume that building a wonderful worship-center and Christian education building in a great location will ensure the passing on of the baton to the next generation. Buildings and endowments keep the flower going, but are not necessarily connecting it to the roots.

Israel demonstrated the same cut-flower syndrome throughout its history. David and Solomon raised the country to world-prominence and glory with the building of palace and temple and the conquering of foes. The Queen of Sheba made the long trip to marvel at the glory of it all.

"She said to the king, 'The report I heard in my own country about your achievements and your wisdom is true. But I did not believe these things until I came and saw with my own eyes. Indeed, not even half was told me; in wisdom and wealth you have far exceeded the report I heard. How happy your men must be! How happy your officials, who continually stand before you and hear your wisdom! Praise be to the LORD your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel. Because of the LORD's eternal love for Israel, he has made you king, to maintain justice and righteousness'" (1 Kings 10: 6-9).

The external glory of palace, temple, priesthood, army, precious articles of worship, etc.--these can be mistaken for the important elements of national identity. But it was the Presence of God that descended on the Temple at its dedication that made it holy. Just as the dusty old Tabernacle in the wilderness, as crude and unimpressive as it must have looked from the outside, had been filled with the cloud of God's Presence in the desert. 

And so, when Ezekiel observes the departure of the Presence of God from the Temple, it is the cut-flower principle from then on. The Temple remains, but the Presence is gone.

That is why Jesus responds to his disciples' expressions of awe over the impressive Temple of Herod: "'Do you see all these things?,' he asked. 'I tell you the truth, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down'" (Matt. 24: 2). 

The People of God had fallen in love with the buildings, and the rituals, and the external forms--but had been cut-off from the roots--the very Presence of God. And as somebody who has toured many churches and cathedrals in Europe, I can say that many of them stand like withering flowers--still beautiful but devoid of life.

Let us learn a lesson from Israel. It's okay to enjoy prosperity and to build impressive church facilities. But let us never become so enamored with those externals that we get disconnected from the roots of a vibrant and life-giving faith in Jesus Himself--and let us not settle for anything that substitutes for His Presence among us. Even if you're meeting Him in a tent in the desert, His Presence makes all the difference.