So, yesterday I attended a conference put on by Feeding America to address food shortages in poverty-stricken areas in West Michigan. These are generally pretty good events and I like seeing the different ways in which needs are being met across the area. But as I looked around the room, I noticed something I hadn't before: every one of the volunteers were very blue collar and the youngest person there besides me was 30 years older.
This got me to thinking: I represent two demographics in America - white collar professionals and 20-somethings. Unfortunately, these are not two demographics that are keen on serving in areas like food distribution or poverty alleviation. Maybe its because we graduate from college, get married and are so focused on our careers, buying houses and starting families that we just forget to help the poor? Or maybe its that we're willing to volunteer, just not help organize? Or maybe its what an older pastor said to me once (and it made me throw up a little in my mouth): Well, you're in your 20's....you need to focus on you now and you can start giving when you're 30.
Now, I'm not saying all white collar 20-somethings need to go out and sell all their possessions and give the money to the poor (although Jesus did to a rich young man), I'm just saying - lets lend our financial resources and expertise to help do poverty alleviation better. Have you ever volunteered at a soup kitchen or food pantry and thought to yourself, wow - this could be run MUCH more efficiently? I know I have. Have you ever thought, why is this place only open from 10 AM-noon on weekdays when those who are actually working need to be at work? I know I have. Have you ever walked into a massive mega-church and wondered how much good they could do if they even threw 10% of their personnel/ministry resources at poverty as well as money. I know I have.
Of course its easier to give money than volunteer your time, but think about this - how much farther would everyone's money go if a few of us with organizational talents helped out just a little - making programs more efficient, using technology to make processes easier. Perhaps it is the case that those who have been closer to poverty in their own lives feel more of an obligation to the poor, but denying your expertise and skills to an organization simply because you can throw money at it just ensures that the cycle of poverty will grow larger and larger until, eventually, it rolls us all over.
Showing posts with label Outreach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Outreach. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Friday, November 28, 2008
Pretty Positive TV
As I write this blog entry, I'm watching "The Tony Peace Gospel Hour" on TCT. I've found myself strangely drawn to TCT, TBN and EWTN recently, asking myself the simple question: what is it about these stations that feel so wrong to me? In a way I feel guilty - am I simply a product of my GAP-driven, hippie-wannabe generational influence? Have my churches inculturated me to detest people in suits, people raising their hands in worship excessively and giant globes on preaching stages with toll-free numbers running across the screen? Is there anything inherently wrong with Benny Hinn, Robert Schuller, The Signature Sound or even Ed Young's TV presence?
I haven't fully thought through this (so I'd love some thoughts), but here's my best approach to it right now. Watching these stations makes me reflect on a denominational gathering I recently attended where I felt very uneasy in worship. Now, let me tell you that it takes quite a bit for me to be uncomfortable in a worship service - I've worshipped in Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Mennonite, Vineyard and many other church services that were "different". What was different about this service for me was what I can best describe as "inauthenticity". In particular, there was a woman who had a constant smile, a constantly raised hand and a constantly exuberant expression. It was the kind of worship service that makes me see why many people identify the worship genre as "happy clappy". My guess is that there was a time in worship music where folks were simply reacting to a "sad pietism" and reacted by writing happy, upbeat music that was meant as an alternative hymnal to the one in the pew. What resulted was what many rural churches refer to as "praise and worship" time which is meant to be wholly positive.
The problem, of course, with positivism and "happy clappy" theology is that it is a horrible reflection of real life. If someone sees worship service as a "pickup" for the week to aid in the rest of life, the fake positivism is probably the necessary product. If, however, one views a church service as the intersection of daily life and God's presence, it is very difficult to believe that this is an accurate representation of daily life. To me, a worship service should encompass the realities of sadness, anger, disbelief and messiness as well as joy, happiness and smiles.
Of course, there is a certain segment of Christianity that wants a faith that is happy all the time. The problem is that that kind of faith is impossible to find and was never something Christ promised us. So here's where the rubber hits the road: when visitors and children see their 40-something parents in pretty suits and dresses on stage acting like their lives have never had a wrinkle and then meet them during the week, the only result can be disappointment. If your music, if your worship shows no authenticity (the reality of the whole spectrum of emotion), you will lose your chance at most visitors and at most of the next generation.
Take a minute and put yourself in the shoes of an unbeliever. Why, if I were flipping through the channels, would I stop on TCT? Frankly, I like Southern Gospel (I can even appreciate the Gaithers and the Lawrence Welk-style Christian variety hours). Maybe, just maybe if I heard the musical harmonies on the radio, I might stop. But, every person on these stations is pretty. Some are large, some are bald - but all of them are wearing their Sunday-best. What's more, their smiles seem painted on, their eyes never seem to blink and I get the impression I'm tuning into a cult broadcast. I have a grand ecumenical stomach, but this gives me an honest gag reflex.
That brings me back to TCT. As I watch this station, there is a single demographic. It does not indicate a racial divide - there are blacks and whites. It does, however, indicate a generational divide. It makes me wonder, as a viewer at home, if the TCT, TBN or EWTN producers realize that there is hardly anyone in the audience under the age of 35. Strangely enough, at our meeting a month ago, I was also one of a handful of people under the age of 35.
Nice suits, slick haircuts and positivism might sell well to the bankrollers of TCT (which I assume to be Christian retirees), but it makes me uneasy. What's more, I think it damages our witness. Strangely enough - this pretty positivism has a similar effect to the Baptist unbeliever-damning sign in our city: it gives us, as a generation, a hole to work out of - not a baton to carry forward. My generation, and those within ten years of me in either direction have a unique ability - we can spot scams. Even as a believer, this honestly feels like a scam. As if our secular culture did not offer enough hurdles for building the future ministry of the Church, Christian culture gives us even more.
I haven't fully thought through this (so I'd love some thoughts), but here's my best approach to it right now. Watching these stations makes me reflect on a denominational gathering I recently attended where I felt very uneasy in worship. Now, let me tell you that it takes quite a bit for me to be uncomfortable in a worship service - I've worshipped in Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Mennonite, Vineyard and many other church services that were "different". What was different about this service for me was what I can best describe as "inauthenticity". In particular, there was a woman who had a constant smile, a constantly raised hand and a constantly exuberant expression. It was the kind of worship service that makes me see why many people identify the worship genre as "happy clappy". My guess is that there was a time in worship music where folks were simply reacting to a "sad pietism" and reacted by writing happy, upbeat music that was meant as an alternative hymnal to the one in the pew. What resulted was what many rural churches refer to as "praise and worship" time which is meant to be wholly positive.
The problem, of course, with positivism and "happy clappy" theology is that it is a horrible reflection of real life. If someone sees worship service as a "pickup" for the week to aid in the rest of life, the fake positivism is probably the necessary product. If, however, one views a church service as the intersection of daily life and God's presence, it is very difficult to believe that this is an accurate representation of daily life. To me, a worship service should encompass the realities of sadness, anger, disbelief and messiness as well as joy, happiness and smiles.
Of course, there is a certain segment of Christianity that wants a faith that is happy all the time. The problem is that that kind of faith is impossible to find and was never something Christ promised us. So here's where the rubber hits the road: when visitors and children see their 40-something parents in pretty suits and dresses on stage acting like their lives have never had a wrinkle and then meet them during the week, the only result can be disappointment. If your music, if your worship shows no authenticity (the reality of the whole spectrum of emotion), you will lose your chance at most visitors and at most of the next generation.
Take a minute and put yourself in the shoes of an unbeliever. Why, if I were flipping through the channels, would I stop on TCT? Frankly, I like Southern Gospel (I can even appreciate the Gaithers and the Lawrence Welk-style Christian variety hours). Maybe, just maybe if I heard the musical harmonies on the radio, I might stop. But, every person on these stations is pretty. Some are large, some are bald - but all of them are wearing their Sunday-best. What's more, their smiles seem painted on, their eyes never seem to blink and I get the impression I'm tuning into a cult broadcast. I have a grand ecumenical stomach, but this gives me an honest gag reflex.
That brings me back to TCT. As I watch this station, there is a single demographic. It does not indicate a racial divide - there are blacks and whites. It does, however, indicate a generational divide. It makes me wonder, as a viewer at home, if the TCT, TBN or EWTN producers realize that there is hardly anyone in the audience under the age of 35. Strangely enough, at our meeting a month ago, I was also one of a handful of people under the age of 35.
Nice suits, slick haircuts and positivism might sell well to the bankrollers of TCT (which I assume to be Christian retirees), but it makes me uneasy. What's more, I think it damages our witness. Strangely enough - this pretty positivism has a similar effect to the Baptist unbeliever-damning sign in our city: it gives us, as a generation, a hole to work out of - not a baton to carry forward. My generation, and those within ten years of me in either direction have a unique ability - we can spot scams. Even as a believer, this honestly feels like a scam. As if our secular culture did not offer enough hurdles for building the future ministry of the Church, Christian culture gives us even more.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Points of Contact
I've had an increasing number of conversations in the past couple weeks about the fact that there is a difficult balance in churches between creating a community within a congregation (or tradition) and making that a gated community. There's two particular situations which have come to my attention because of my current position, which has both led me to see things in the denomination I currently serve and, for the first time, being an outsider of my other denomination within an observable distance. Its also come from conversations with pastors, parishoners, class discussions, and other observations. What I don't mean to do is call anyone out or be abrasive, for all of the communities I will talk about are communities which I have grown to love.
A Tale of Two Islands
The town which I live in has various ministry opportunities and challenges which I've addressed previously, but our community is one that encompasses a large portion of rural community surrounding it because we're the last outpost with retail/restaurants before the dead expanse which is central Michigan. For this reason, our church draws from not just one community, but rather four or five within 20 miles of the city. Throughout my travels and interactions thus far, I have been able to profile other churches in our community, for good or for ill. We have two faith communities in our larger geographic area which stand out to me as similar: the Amish community to the north, and the Christian Reformed community to the south. At first glance, my CRC readers will wonder at this comparison, but that's intended. The similarity? Both communities have few points of contact with the community at large. In my interactions with community church groups, shopping, eating out, etc., I've never once run into a CRC person, although I often meet Methodists, Baptists, Catholics, and Congregationalists. Of course, the Amish shoot for this "set-apart"-ness, but what causes CRC folk to be like that? The first and most obvious thing to me is Christian school/public school dynamic. I attend public school events weekly (sometimes more often) such as sporting events, concerts, etc. There I meet members of other churches and non-believers. People care passionately about their local school system, often even more than their own church. I would suspect that if one of my parishoners were to try and establish a friendship with a family who sent their kids to the Christian school (which is sequestered out in the country, just like the Amish school), their conversations would not go all that far because the experience is not common enough. For the Amish and the CRC, both churches lie about five miles out of town, and this symbolic non-presence in the community is not overcome easily because its practical effects are far-reaching. The second is a class issue. The local CRC's in our area are suspected by people of being upper middle class. Once again, having expendable income for Christian education is not something most of our parishoners can understand. Upper middle class people often have a much higher liturgical preference, as well. We've discussed this with other churches in our town, which is progressively becoming lower class. People don't want academically-driven preaching and high liturgy. That was hard for me to swallow as a worship planner/preacher, but its true. This was reinforced by a CRC pastor I met with who ministers in inner city Grand Rapids. Even though his people live in close proximity to the church (which is rare for the inner part of GR), they can't make inroads into the community for the same two reasons: kids are in different schools and class issues. Schools are the centers of community life, often, and if those communities are different than the larger community, points of contact are diminished greatly. Five years ago, I might have resonated with this concept, but I see it now much more clearly: I want you to join my church, but I won't invest my time or children into your schools, and you should worship on my terms. Don't take me as nay-saying Christian education or the CRC, or even our local one (they do a great community pre-school). Plus, Christian schools paid the bill for our house for the first 18 years of my life. However, if we are going to willingly forfeit huge quantities of points of contact with our communities, then it would be an offense to the Great Commission if we don't put programs and attitudes in place to counteract these effects. The
Plank in Our Own Eye
I would be remiss to cast stones at the Amish and CRC here if I'm not willing to look at the denomination I currently serve as well. If we're talking about created communities without gating them, its important to identify where our possible gates might go up. For the last two examples, its physical distance from the community, schooling choices, liturgical preference, class limitations, etc. For the Church of God, at least one of these is denominational association. I have had multiple people come talk to me about how greatful they are that I've come in from another tradition because I don't speak Church of God-ese. This denomination has such great ministries, a great intellectual tradition, great inter-connections. All these things are great, and we gain great benefit from them. However, when an outsider who comes in, its often difficult to learn that denominational language. What's Anderson? Why are adults going to camp? Who is considered Youth? What is State? I thought St. Louis was in Missouri. What are heritage songs? What's a Jesus Birthday Offering? What's the difference between SYC, IYC, ISL, ATL and YISL? Good questions! I've finally figured some of them out, but these types of things are big hinderances to someone coming in from the outside. My wife and I were talking the other day about how learning this Church of God language helps us reflect upon similar community gating in our denomination of origin. Most notable among these is Christian education, but liturgical inaccessibility and theological snobbery/preoccupation are other major concerns as we observe the CRC from the outside.
Ungating the Community
If there's any sort of conclusion to be made, I think that all churches and denominations face these kinds of issues, but it is the responsibility of the particular group to counteract the effects of their potential community gating. Christian education and denominational community are both good things, but can become pitfalls if they become the major concern of the given body. Counteracting these will hopefully give us the points of contact with our communities that lend themselves to reaching out to others in the name of Jesus.
A Tale of Two Islands
The town which I live in has various ministry opportunities and challenges which I've addressed previously, but our community is one that encompasses a large portion of rural community surrounding it because we're the last outpost with retail/restaurants before the dead expanse which is central Michigan. For this reason, our church draws from not just one community, but rather four or five within 20 miles of the city. Throughout my travels and interactions thus far, I have been able to profile other churches in our community, for good or for ill. We have two faith communities in our larger geographic area which stand out to me as similar: the Amish community to the north, and the Christian Reformed community to the south. At first glance, my CRC readers will wonder at this comparison, but that's intended. The similarity? Both communities have few points of contact with the community at large. In my interactions with community church groups, shopping, eating out, etc., I've never once run into a CRC person, although I often meet Methodists, Baptists, Catholics, and Congregationalists. Of course, the Amish shoot for this "set-apart"-ness, but what causes CRC folk to be like that? The first and most obvious thing to me is Christian school/public school dynamic. I attend public school events weekly (sometimes more often) such as sporting events, concerts, etc. There I meet members of other churches and non-believers. People care passionately about their local school system, often even more than their own church. I would suspect that if one of my parishoners were to try and establish a friendship with a family who sent their kids to the Christian school (which is sequestered out in the country, just like the Amish school), their conversations would not go all that far because the experience is not common enough. For the Amish and the CRC, both churches lie about five miles out of town, and this symbolic non-presence in the community is not overcome easily because its practical effects are far-reaching. The second is a class issue. The local CRC's in our area are suspected by people of being upper middle class. Once again, having expendable income for Christian education is not something most of our parishoners can understand. Upper middle class people often have a much higher liturgical preference, as well. We've discussed this with other churches in our town, which is progressively becoming lower class. People don't want academically-driven preaching and high liturgy. That was hard for me to swallow as a worship planner/preacher, but its true. This was reinforced by a CRC pastor I met with who ministers in inner city Grand Rapids. Even though his people live in close proximity to the church (which is rare for the inner part of GR), they can't make inroads into the community for the same two reasons: kids are in different schools and class issues. Schools are the centers of community life, often, and if those communities are different than the larger community, points of contact are diminished greatly. Five years ago, I might have resonated with this concept, but I see it now much more clearly: I want you to join my church, but I won't invest my time or children into your schools, and you should worship on my terms. Don't take me as nay-saying Christian education or the CRC, or even our local one (they do a great community pre-school). Plus, Christian schools paid the bill for our house for the first 18 years of my life. However, if we are going to willingly forfeit huge quantities of points of contact with our communities, then it would be an offense to the Great Commission if we don't put programs and attitudes in place to counteract these effects. The
Plank in Our Own Eye
I would be remiss to cast stones at the Amish and CRC here if I'm not willing to look at the denomination I currently serve as well. If we're talking about created communities without gating them, its important to identify where our possible gates might go up. For the last two examples, its physical distance from the community, schooling choices, liturgical preference, class limitations, etc. For the Church of God, at least one of these is denominational association. I have had multiple people come talk to me about how greatful they are that I've come in from another tradition because I don't speak Church of God-ese. This denomination has such great ministries, a great intellectual tradition, great inter-connections. All these things are great, and we gain great benefit from them. However, when an outsider who comes in, its often difficult to learn that denominational language. What's Anderson? Why are adults going to camp? Who is considered Youth? What is State? I thought St. Louis was in Missouri. What are heritage songs? What's a Jesus Birthday Offering? What's the difference between SYC, IYC, ISL, ATL and YISL? Good questions! I've finally figured some of them out, but these types of things are big hinderances to someone coming in from the outside. My wife and I were talking the other day about how learning this Church of God language helps us reflect upon similar community gating in our denomination of origin. Most notable among these is Christian education, but liturgical inaccessibility and theological snobbery/preoccupation are other major concerns as we observe the CRC from the outside.
Ungating the Community
If there's any sort of conclusion to be made, I think that all churches and denominations face these kinds of issues, but it is the responsibility of the particular group to counteract the effects of their potential community gating. Christian education and denominational community are both good things, but can become pitfalls if they become the major concern of the given body. Counteracting these will hopefully give us the points of contact with our communities that lend themselves to reaching out to others in the name of Jesus.
Friday, December 15, 2006
The Guilt Problem
It wasn't until yesterday around 9:30 AM that I realized how different my views on the preemininece of guilt are in the Reformed evangelism realm. What to do? Blog, of course. Here you go:
The Church has a fascination with guilt. Yes, its true. Tell me how you would go about telling someone about Christ? Think about it for a minute. Okay, minute's up. We've been addressing this issue this past week in my evangelism class. Most people would identify the "bridge" method as one of the best ways for presenting the gospel. If you're not familiar with this message, it points out the chasm that exists between human beings and God: a chasm that exists because of sin. In a triumphant soveriegn engineering feat, the cross gets lodged in the chasm and creates a bridge to walk across to where God is. Ha! If that's Reformed, Calvin just rolled over in his grave. My vision of Reformed theology is a lasso being sent across and Christ pulling us across kicking and screaming.
Okay, so maybe you don't subscribe to the bridge. Let's try something more familiar: the Heidelberg Catechism. If you paid attention in Catechism class, you know that the presentation of doctrine goes along these lines: Sin -->Salvation-->Service. Or, Q&A #2:What do we need to know to live and die in the comfort of God? "Three things:first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance." The commonality of these two presentations I've made is the fact that the gospel takes root in guilt, period.
On that front, I made the argument on Wednesday that we don't necessarily need to present the gospel by starting with guilt. [The crowd goes aghast.] What's more, its necessary to find other ways to seed in the gospel because our culture does not feel guilt! What did he just say? I'm not saying no one feels guilt, certainly I feel guilt and you do too, but the cultural emphasis on moral subjectivity has all but chased guilt into a shadowy corner. Like it or not, the generation we are currently raising does not identify with guilt the way the previous ones did. If we keep harping on guilt, we will find ourselves preaching to teddy bears.
Ron Martoria presents a helpful concept for this discussion. He argues that there are multiple themes in the Old Testament such as covenant, exodus, exile and priestly atonement. His point is that the Church has triumphed the idea of priestly atonement for years to the detriment of the other themes. And its worked! Think about how the prophets worked: Go to a city, tell them they are sinners, offer them a reward for repentence. Fastforward. Jonathan Edwards and his fire-and-brimstone sermons capitalized on the exact same principle: Go to the pulpit, tell people they're on the fasttrack to hell, tell them God will save them, but only barely so that people aren't tempted to step outside the lines for fear of burning off an extremity.
Go into any city in America, urban or rural, stand on a milk crate, and preach this at the top of your lungs. Go ahead, I dare you. Its foolish. Why is it so heretical for me to present the idea that there might be other ways to motivate people to God other than threatening them with hell! Hell might just be the greatest weapon the Church has had in its arsenal. Dan has some good thoughts on this here. Are you seriously telling me that we've been around for more than 2,000 years and the most convincing argument we can make for worshipping God is fear of hell? Bush administration anyone? Fear built basilicas in the 1500's, it brought people out in droves into Puritanism and Methodism during the Great Awakenings, and we've used it in the Reformed tradition to "scare the elect out of bushes". Sweet! Regardless of the focus on numbers, it spoke their language and was thus a useful evangelism tool. In Europe and North America today, its not. Perhaps if Jesus saved us from terrorism, Christianity would sell.
I don't like to present problems without some ideas about a solution....that simply makes me a rock-thrower. I'm working on it, but I think acknowledging the issue is half the problem. One idea I have is to repackage sin. Moral relativity has virtually eliminated a preoccupation with sin and guilt. Okay. Let's try that again. Brokenness is undeniable. What's happening in Iraq isn't okay, regardless of what your moral stance is. What's happening in Sudan isn't okay regardless of where you find yourself in the spectrum of moral relativity. Systematic poverty is a problem, unless you're a social Darwinian. Its a small start, but addressing brokenness is not only a better way to present sin to a sin-ignorant culture, but its also probably a better way to present Christ as a solution because it increases the scope of Christ's redemption. Focusing on individual sin as the only problem makes a person-focused Jesus the only Savior.
If we keep on our current path, the only thing we'll feel guilty for is losing a generation and boarding up our church windows.
The Church has a fascination with guilt. Yes, its true. Tell me how you would go about telling someone about Christ? Think about it for a minute. Okay, minute's up. We've been addressing this issue this past week in my evangelism class. Most people would identify the "bridge" method as one of the best ways for presenting the gospel. If you're not familiar with this message, it points out the chasm that exists between human beings and God: a chasm that exists because of sin. In a triumphant soveriegn engineering feat, the cross gets lodged in the chasm and creates a bridge to walk across to where God is. Ha! If that's Reformed, Calvin just rolled over in his grave. My vision of Reformed theology is a lasso being sent across and Christ pulling us across kicking and screaming.
Okay, so maybe you don't subscribe to the bridge. Let's try something more familiar: the Heidelberg Catechism. If you paid attention in Catechism class, you know that the presentation of doctrine goes along these lines: Sin -->Salvation-->Service. Or, Q&A #2:What do we need to know to live and die in the comfort of God? "Three things:first, how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance." The commonality of these two presentations I've made is the fact that the gospel takes root in guilt, period.
On that front, I made the argument on Wednesday that we don't necessarily need to present the gospel by starting with guilt. [The crowd goes aghast.] What's more, its necessary to find other ways to seed in the gospel because our culture does not feel guilt! What did he just say? I'm not saying no one feels guilt, certainly I feel guilt and you do too, but the cultural emphasis on moral subjectivity has all but chased guilt into a shadowy corner. Like it or not, the generation we are currently raising does not identify with guilt the way the previous ones did. If we keep harping on guilt, we will find ourselves preaching to teddy bears.
Ron Martoria presents a helpful concept for this discussion. He argues that there are multiple themes in the Old Testament such as covenant, exodus, exile and priestly atonement. His point is that the Church has triumphed the idea of priestly atonement for years to the detriment of the other themes. And its worked! Think about how the prophets worked: Go to a city, tell them they are sinners, offer them a reward for repentence. Fastforward. Jonathan Edwards and his fire-and-brimstone sermons capitalized on the exact same principle: Go to the pulpit, tell people they're on the fasttrack to hell, tell them God will save them, but only barely so that people aren't tempted to step outside the lines for fear of burning off an extremity.
Go into any city in America, urban or rural, stand on a milk crate, and preach this at the top of your lungs. Go ahead, I dare you. Its foolish. Why is it so heretical for me to present the idea that there might be other ways to motivate people to God other than threatening them with hell! Hell might just be the greatest weapon the Church has had in its arsenal. Dan has some good thoughts on this here. Are you seriously telling me that we've been around for more than 2,000 years and the most convincing argument we can make for worshipping God is fear of hell? Bush administration anyone? Fear built basilicas in the 1500's, it brought people out in droves into Puritanism and Methodism during the Great Awakenings, and we've used it in the Reformed tradition to "scare the elect out of bushes". Sweet! Regardless of the focus on numbers, it spoke their language and was thus a useful evangelism tool. In Europe and North America today, its not. Perhaps if Jesus saved us from terrorism, Christianity would sell.
I don't like to present problems without some ideas about a solution....that simply makes me a rock-thrower. I'm working on it, but I think acknowledging the issue is half the problem. One idea I have is to repackage sin. Moral relativity has virtually eliminated a preoccupation with sin and guilt. Okay. Let's try that again. Brokenness is undeniable. What's happening in Iraq isn't okay, regardless of what your moral stance is. What's happening in Sudan isn't okay regardless of where you find yourself in the spectrum of moral relativity. Systematic poverty is a problem, unless you're a social Darwinian. Its a small start, but addressing brokenness is not only a better way to present sin to a sin-ignorant culture, but its also probably a better way to present Christ as a solution because it increases the scope of Christ's redemption. Focusing on individual sin as the only problem makes a person-focused Jesus the only Savior.
If we keep on our current path, the only thing we'll feel guilty for is losing a generation and boarding up our church windows.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Your Local Christian College: Foreign Misison Field
I recognize that most of the people who read my blog are either college students or recently graduated college students. If you're older, good for you. If this blog causes you to get defensive, good. Maybe it will cause you to question your own college-life spirituality OR maybe it will get you on board with finding ways to reach our college communities. Either way...good luck.
College is a wonderful time in many people's lives. In fact, most people. If you're one of the chosen few who went to a Christian college, its not only a bonus if you have a god experience in college...its expected. You're expected to make friends, you're expected to gain skills, you're expected to become a democrat for six years or so, and you're expected to find a spouse. I've had the privelege of bouncing around visiting several Christian college campuses as well as meeting up with lots of committed Christians fresh out of Christian colleges at Seminary. There are a few common threads, but one of them is not church involvement. In fact, even at the Seminary, it was considered radical to implement a change last year which required students to declare regular attendance at a local church and 20 hours of church involvement during the quarter.
Let me set a context. I attend a church that meets in the chapel of Calvin College, a body of 5,000 or so students. Even though our church is on campus, our average attendance out of that body is roughly five students. Five. So our church is conservative in worship style...that means they're going somewhere else, right? If you've lived in a dorm, you know the answer.
I grew up in Orange City, IA, home of Northwestern College, and a skip and jump from Dordt College. I grew up seeing college kids at the gas station, at restaurants, coffee shops, at Pamida, student-teaching, and across the street from my house. Where did I not see them? Church. Could be a fluke....maybe we couldn't advertise well.
When I chose to go to Dordt, I kept attending my home church. I was one of two kids within four years of graduation from high school that regularly attended. Out of about 60. I thought it was our fault, something we could change. As I moved through college and now talk to people from all over North America, people conclude the exact same thing....the majority of Christian college kids don't go to church.
My church threw out the bible study book. We threw out the "inviting worship" book. We threw out the seek & greet book. We started to give things away. We gave them their own room to have premium coffee in the basement, and hooked them up with free meals.
Sound like a soup kitchen? Sound like a foreign releif effort? Bingo. College kids are not reliable, they're not responsible, and they are horribly self-concerned. Try talking to any college kid without hearing the word "busy". Yes college kid, we know you're busy. Yes college kid, we know you're tired. Yes college kid, we know you're financially strapped (except the rich kids). Yes college kid, we know you prefer contemporary worship at school. Yes college kid, we know we're hypocrites.
WELCOME TO THE CLUB, or as we like to call it - the Church.
That said, we still need to minister to this group. Given the four-eight year cultural considerations I've given, I propose we need to completely throw out the book on how to run a church ministry for a group. We need a new praxis. The soup kitchen mentality is helpful, even if the attendees are wearing Aeropostale and Abercrombie. You will get a few that are willing to be discipled. You might get none. Either way, keeping kids linked with local churches is worth it, if for no other reason than it keeps people in the pews. Most of our local churches are missing the 20-something age group. Unfortunately, eventually the 20 something age group will be the whole church. Or....it might not be the whole church.
College is a wonderful time in many people's lives. In fact, most people. If you're one of the chosen few who went to a Christian college, its not only a bonus if you have a god experience in college...its expected. You're expected to make friends, you're expected to gain skills, you're expected to become a democrat for six years or so, and you're expected to find a spouse. I've had the privelege of bouncing around visiting several Christian college campuses as well as meeting up with lots of committed Christians fresh out of Christian colleges at Seminary. There are a few common threads, but one of them is not church involvement. In fact, even at the Seminary, it was considered radical to implement a change last year which required students to declare regular attendance at a local church and 20 hours of church involvement during the quarter.
Let me set a context. I attend a church that meets in the chapel of Calvin College, a body of 5,000 or so students. Even though our church is on campus, our average attendance out of that body is roughly five students. Five. So our church is conservative in worship style...that means they're going somewhere else, right? If you've lived in a dorm, you know the answer.
I grew up in Orange City, IA, home of Northwestern College, and a skip and jump from Dordt College. I grew up seeing college kids at the gas station, at restaurants, coffee shops, at Pamida, student-teaching, and across the street from my house. Where did I not see them? Church. Could be a fluke....maybe we couldn't advertise well.
When I chose to go to Dordt, I kept attending my home church. I was one of two kids within four years of graduation from high school that regularly attended. Out of about 60. I thought it was our fault, something we could change. As I moved through college and now talk to people from all over North America, people conclude the exact same thing....the majority of Christian college kids don't go to church.
My church threw out the bible study book. We threw out the "inviting worship" book. We threw out the seek & greet book. We started to give things away. We gave them their own room to have premium coffee in the basement, and hooked them up with free meals.
Sound like a soup kitchen? Sound like a foreign releif effort? Bingo. College kids are not reliable, they're not responsible, and they are horribly self-concerned. Try talking to any college kid without hearing the word "busy". Yes college kid, we know you're busy. Yes college kid, we know you're tired. Yes college kid, we know you're financially strapped (except the rich kids). Yes college kid, we know you prefer contemporary worship at school. Yes college kid, we know we're hypocrites.
WELCOME TO THE CLUB, or as we like to call it - the Church.
That said, we still need to minister to this group. Given the four-eight year cultural considerations I've given, I propose we need to completely throw out the book on how to run a church ministry for a group. We need a new praxis. The soup kitchen mentality is helpful, even if the attendees are wearing Aeropostale and Abercrombie. You will get a few that are willing to be discipled. You might get none. Either way, keeping kids linked with local churches is worth it, if for no other reason than it keeps people in the pews. Most of our local churches are missing the 20-something age group. Unfortunately, eventually the 20 something age group will be the whole church. Or....it might not be the whole church.
Friday, August 04, 2006
The Longest Two Hours in the World
Most of the time while living in Grand Rapids, I'm just unemotional towards things. Cities tend to do that to a person. They kill the uptightness that is generally associated with the small farming communities, but they also tend to kill all motivations other than greed/self-gratification. I was looking into housing a while back and the company's website explained a novel concept which placed houses in such a way that they encouraged community. It was quick to point out that such an effort hadn't really been made since the 50's.
One thing that really has gotten me irked since living here is the inability of Grand Rapids, one of the wealthiest and believer-infested places in Christendom, to reach out to its dying neighbor, Detroit. At the risk of sounding like one of the coffeehouse should-ers from my previous posting, I have a great conviction that there should be some outreach down the interstate to the most hurting city in the nation outside of New Orleans(I'm not just saying that - there was a study that confirmed it released this week).
The fact of the matter is that if I wanted to go into any sort of ministry in Detroit for internships or a "real" job, it would have to be as a church planter or in a different denomination. The host of CRC churches/classes in Grand Rapids have not recently initiated a single churchplant or denominational ministry in the city, except for one Christian-Muslim Friendship House, which holds a loose association with the denomiation. The one existing CRC church in Detroit is located where you would expect it: in the suburbs.
I will grant that Michigan is hurting on all levels. No matter who wins the next governor race, this state is screwed until we figure out a way to curb the sense of entitlement which persists at all socio-economic levels in this state. There is, however, at least in Grand Rapids, a concentration of wealth in the churches. Many churches are run corporate-style, with top-down leadership or with projects needing to be approved by certain wealthy members. Yet, the biggest hinderance to the CRC's involvement in Detroit might be that its skill largely lies in planting suburban-style churches with largely caucasian middle class populations. The kind of cities that Detroit is are usually the subjects of world missions type ministries.
Sometimes I need people to keep me accountable (who am I kidding, that would be most times). Think of this as my way of helping to wake up accountability about man-made disaster area. Its time to end the charade. We may be two hours away from Detroit, but it seems like a world away. To walk the downtown area of Detroit is to feel like you are in a recent warzone. Perhaps the need is so great we don't know where to start. I've got an idea. How about the thousands of buildings at ground zero that are falling apart as we speak in the wasteland they call a downtown. What a big problem like this needs is an army. Here is your army.
One thing that really has gotten me irked since living here is the inability of Grand Rapids, one of the wealthiest and believer-infested places in Christendom, to reach out to its dying neighbor, Detroit. At the risk of sounding like one of the coffeehouse should-ers from my previous posting, I have a great conviction that there should be some outreach down the interstate to the most hurting city in the nation outside of New Orleans(I'm not just saying that - there was a study that confirmed it released this week).
The fact of the matter is that if I wanted to go into any sort of ministry in Detroit for internships or a "real" job, it would have to be as a church planter or in a different denomination. The host of CRC churches/classes in Grand Rapids have not recently initiated a single churchplant or denominational ministry in the city, except for one Christian-Muslim Friendship House, which holds a loose association with the denomiation. The one existing CRC church in Detroit is located where you would expect it: in the suburbs.
I will grant that Michigan is hurting on all levels. No matter who wins the next governor race, this state is screwed until we figure out a way to curb the sense of entitlement which persists at all socio-economic levels in this state. There is, however, at least in Grand Rapids, a concentration of wealth in the churches. Many churches are run corporate-style, with top-down leadership or with projects needing to be approved by certain wealthy members. Yet, the biggest hinderance to the CRC's involvement in Detroit might be that its skill largely lies in planting suburban-style churches with largely caucasian middle class populations. The kind of cities that Detroit is are usually the subjects of world missions type ministries.
Sometimes I need people to keep me accountable (who am I kidding, that would be most times). Think of this as my way of helping to wake up accountability about man-made disaster area. Its time to end the charade. We may be two hours away from Detroit, but it seems like a world away. To walk the downtown area of Detroit is to feel like you are in a recent warzone. Perhaps the need is so great we don't know where to start. I've got an idea. How about the thousands of buildings at ground zero that are falling apart as we speak in the wasteland they call a downtown. What a big problem like this needs is an army. Here is your army.
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