The Problem with Control

I like being in control. I like knowing what’s coming next in life. I like knowing that I have all the resources I’ll need to do whatever I want. This level of control is what our culture teaches, isn’t it? We hear the message associated with all stages of life through retirement.We value it not only for ourselves but for our institutions and our nation as a whole.

I don’t see much differences between Christian Americans and non-Christian Americans on this. We all like to be in control. Unfortunately, being in control is largely antithetical to living a life of faith in God.

In this book, The Land, Walter Brueggemann says:

“When Israel craved for kingship like the others, it was attracted precisely to those examples that presumed to manage their own existence and seize initiative for their own well-being in history. Whereas life on the other side had been utterly derived from Yahweh, now the yearning was to eliminate all of that uncertainty and derive life from policies and institutions totally under human mastery.”

For now, I’m going to leave other folks out of the discussion and just pick on my fellow Christians. In my experience, my faith grows the most and is the strongest when I am in situations where I need God. As long as my life is entirely stable, secure, and safe, I don’t need God. Oh, I can say I need God, but I’m thinking of God as “eternal life insurance policy” or God as “adornment.” Certainly not God as God. My faith grows most when I’m desperate for God, when there’s no way I’ll make it apart from God.

Churches are the same way. We have our policies and procedures, our budgets, bank accounts and endowments, all in place to make sure our churches are stable, secure, and safe. It seems like the godly thing to do, doesn’t it? God has entrusted us with all these things (buildings, money) that it is only right to guard them carefully. But in our primary pursuit of stability, security and safety, we usually miss God.

As we can tell from reading the Old Testament (so Brueggemann notes), our dilemma is nothing new. Ancient Israel knew well the joy of security – and the problems it brought. “We needed God in the wilderness; we couldn’t have made it without him. But that we’re in the land we can breathe safely. Thanks, God, for allowing us a such a cushy life that we don’t need you any more!”

We face danger either way we go. If we go the way of security, we miss a life of blessing with God. If we go the way of needing God, forsaking security, well, that’s just plain scary. Look where it got Jesus and his first followers. I think I’ll choose the dangerous way of Jesus rather than the dangerous way of security.

Posted in Culture, Discipleship | Leave a comment

Ministry as Job

Adults, unless independently wealthy, need a job in order to support themselves and their families. Even wealthy people likely need a job for the sake of their well-being.

Jobs are tied up with issues of money, competition and progress. When we do our jobs, we want to be paid. When we do well at our jobs, we want to be paidmore. Most workplaces have limited funds, so if it is usually not possible for all employees either to be paid as much as they think they ought or to progress the pay scale as fast as they ought.

The desire to make money that is connected with a job has no necessary connection with greed. Unless, that is, what we consider the basics in our culture – a place to live, a car, new clothes, food, education, etc. – cannot be conceived of apart from greed, i.e., that a truly non-greedy person would care for none of these.

My first real job was working the grill at McDonalds. I probably cooked at least 100,000 burgers over the 5 years I worked for them. Though even in those days some complained about McDonalds, the company was by no means counter-cultural. Food? Everyone needs to eat. Meat? Vegetarianism and Veganism were much less high-profile in the late 70s and early 80s than they are now. The outcry against fast food was not very loud yet. So, aside from having an aroma of grease around me, the social impact of my working there was minimal. No one close to me looked down on me for working there, no one called me a cow-murderer, no one challenged my commitment to “burgerism.”

McDonald’s also didn’t require much of the affective or metaphysical. I didn’t have to love McDonalds. I didn’t have to forswear ever eating at another restaurant or refrain from admitting that another place might, on occasion, have something worth eating. I didn’t have to believe anything controversial or substantial about McDonalds, beef, burgers, or fries. I just had to go to work and do the work assigned to me. No one cared what I thought or how I felt, as long as my thoughts and feelings didn’t impair my work.

My actions at McDonalds included things like:

  • Cooking
  • Cleaning
  • Stocking
  • Serving

These actions did require some beliefs. I had to believe in the reality of the physical world and the efficacy of my action in engaging in that world. I had to believe that the procedure for preparing various items was repeatable. I had to believe that my managers were the authorities directing my actions. These are pretty minimal beliefs. Even non-employees could believe most of them with no effort. Though I don’t have the experience to know for sure, I’d guess these basic beliefs would transfer without a hitch to employment at competitors like Burger King & Wendys.

Perhaps it won’t surprise you to hear that ministry jobs aren’t like that. And that’s a problem for some, as highlighted in this story I read on the Jesus Creed blog of Scot McKnight.

Like working at McDonalds, ministry jobs require actions. Pastoral ministry is what I know best, so I’ll speak from that point of view. The actions of a pastor include things like:

  • Speaking in front of people
  • Writing
  • Organizing and coordinating activities
  • Managing finances
  • Supervising employees
  • Visitation in homes, hospitals and other places

So far, all of these activities are transferable to other settings, whether religious or not. What’s the difference, then, between a ministry job, and a job like cooking at McDonalds?

One way to explain the difference is to see that all jobs take place in some sort of narrative, whether that narrative is implicit or explicit. At McDonalds the narrative is implicit. It may be something like, “People are hungry and in a hurry. Let’s give them something tasty, easily prepared and for a good price.” Obviously, given how many go to McDonalds, that narrative has been bought into billions and billions of times. The McDonald’s food narrative is very simple. It is not very differentiated, either through time or across cultures. The McDonald’s way of playing into the narrative may be distinct, but the narrative itself is extremely common. And almost entirely implicit.

Ministry jobs are also tied to a narrative. But which one? Ah, that’s part of the problem.

One popular narrative we could call “helping people.” People are in pain and need comfort. Others are in need and need help with resources for life. The job of ministry is to come along side these people, comfort them, and connect them with resources. This narrative is by no means alien to what we see in scripture. Jesus offers comfort and healing to hurting people. In the parable of the sheep and the goats he teaches the importance of meeting the practical needs of people. If this is were the only narrative we had though, we wouldn’t have much of a problem. Ministry could just be equated with “helping people.” The idea that we should help people isn’t very controversial. If, when asked what we do, we say that we help people, we’ll likely go unchallenged.

The pastors we’ve heard of who have lost their faith, who have shifted to atheism or agnosticism, can still be quite kind-hearted. They can still take it as their mission in life to help people. The “Help People” narrative is separable, or so it seems, from the “Jesus is the incarnate Son of God who died for our sins and rose on the third day” narrative. It’s this latter narrative that causes us trouble. Not everyone believes this story. Some don’t believe it, then come to believe it. Others, vice versa. This can be a problem for church leaders.

First, living into the Christian story, the story of scripture that climaxes with the life, death and resurrection of Jesus really matters. This story is essential to the life of the church. The church need leaders who faithfully live into this story. Just doing the job, just getting the work done, isn’t enough. We’ve tried that – the route of professionalism. Professionalism is nice – but we can have professionalism all day long without having a church. It’s for this reason that I sympathize with one answer offered to this problem: When a church leader loses faith, that leader ought to have the integrity to quit. Just getting the job done won’t cut it.

This is where the “helping people” narrative fails, and this is not because helping people is a bad thing. Judged by scripture, the “helping people” story is true – it’s just not enough. As we’ve seen in the past century, the “helping people” story is separable from the church’s story. Government has taken over many parts of it. The “helping people” story makes us think we can stand in some neutral place and objectively identify the real needs of people and figure out how to meet those needs. But there isn’t such a neutral place. The “helping people” story isn’t big enough to stand on its own; it needs other, larger stories. The Christian story has one way of contextualizing “helping people.” Modern social theory has another (I think here of John Milbank’s Theology and Social Theory.)

Second, however, I know things are more complicated. On the one hand, while “faithfully living into the story” is a matter of belief, it is not only a matter of belief. Being faithful is also a matter of obedience. Let’s face it. No church leader is always and entirely obedient. We even sometimes lapse into acting more in accord with competing stories (like “this is just a job, so I will meet the minimum requirements,” or “I’m in this for what I can get out of it.”). When we stray like this does integrity require us to quit – or to repent?

On the other hand, even if one has quit believing there is a huge psycho-personal price to pay in quitting. Becoming a pastor in the UMC is expensive. It takes years of study and preparation, thousands of dollars of expenses, and huge family sacrifices. It’s hard for humans to invest so much and then quit. It’s like the ministry is guarded by 20 foot electrified fences topped with razor wire. It’s hard and scary to get past that. It’s even possible that natural human conservatism comes into play. A person may have grown to love the camaraderie of fellow pastors, the institutions of the church, the hymn tunes – even have a sincere attachment to and love for the people – after ceasing to believe.

What’s the solution? I don’t know for sure, but I do have a couple of ideas.

First, the church needs to maintain an open, honest, and tough-minded apologetic. We need to recognize that this apologetic is not just – or even primarily – aimed at outsiders. Rather, we need to continually offer up reasons for following Jesus, for believing in him and belonging to his church. This will be matched by an open recognition that people waver in their believing, some to a small degree, some so far as falling into unbelief. Perhaps treating this as a real phenomenon will allow people to ask questions and find faithful answers before the seed of faith has been extinguished altogether. It can be comforting to believe that once a person has faith, that person will only grow in faith forever. Comforting or not, such a belief is a fantasy that has no root in reality. A real and living faith requires constant and ongoing maintenance, continuing and disciplined engagement with Jesus.

Second, we need to narrow the gap between leaders and non-leaders, between pastors and the people. As long as pastors are taken to be some sort of super Christian, the fences will be high and difficult to cross. The objective is not to make it easy to leave the church, as if the faith were something trivial. No, our objective is to make love, not fear, the motive for remaining. If the gap between pastors and laity in the church is lowered, pastoral power will decrease. The influence of Pastor Awesome Faith will diminish. But so will the damage caused when Pastor Awesome Faith turns out to be something else. At the same time, the bar will be raised for the rest of us. We will discover that we need to live in our own faith, not vicariously through Super Pastor. I would expect this to help the pastor’s faith as well, serving as a witness and encouragement to the pastor, not just to other laity.

Posted in Ecclesiology, Ministry, United Methodism | Leave a comment

Surprised by… Sin?

If you watch tv, I bet you’ve seen a show where someone no one suspected turned out to have deep, dark secrets. A man everyone knew to be a loving and engaged father was really a molester. A woman who was the prim and proper model of a Christian wife was really having affairs right and left. The pastor of the largest church in town was not only embezzling from his church, but also committing most of the sins he loudly preached against. Stories like these have been told over and over again.

Why are stories like this so common? It is cynicism? Sure, we live in a cynical age. We’re trained to expect the worst of people, yet still act surprised when it proves true.

I think it’s more than cynicism. Rather, though we present a WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) image, that’s all it is: an image.

When I hear that another person has fallen, whether on the national scene or someone I know locally, I’m usually sad rather than surprised. Because I know I’m a sinner, and thus capable of falling and failing, I know other people are also. Will Willimon thinks of this as a southern trait. He says in his recent book Bishop, “I give thanks that I’m from the South, where we still believe in sin, rather than from some place sentimental, where human culpability is a surprise.”

If we’re not going to be surprised by sin, what ought we to do about it? If we know we – and others – are prone to sin, what actions should we take?

Perhaps the most popular response I’ve hear is some version of the “Nobody’s perfect” mantra. If no one is perfect, then you can’t expect me to be either. God knows I’m not perfect, so surely God will give me some slack here. We even have the slightly longer version of the complaint: “I’m not perfect, just forgiven.” So, yes, I’m going to sin. There’s no way around that. But there’s always a way out.

Another response is to try harder. in this case, we just need to whip our will and our performance into shape. Then we’ll do better, then we’ll be perfect. Well, at least more perfect.

John Wesley used the “perfect” language. United Methodist pastors are still asked “perfect” questions at their ordination. “Are you going on to perfection? Do you expect to be made perfect in love in this life?” You can tell from the context what the expected answers are. Wesley was challenged – and mocked – for his use of the language of perfection. If this language didn’t communicate well in the 18th century, I think it communicates even less well today. Why is this?

The primary reason perfection language doesn’t work well is that we take our metaphors of perfection from the world of mechanistic science. We think in terms of an absolute perfection. After all, if perfection is not absolute, then it’s not perfection, right? With these metaphors in place it’s difficult, if not impossible, to allow the relational context of the biblical teaching to play its role.

Given the reality of sin and the problem of perfection language, what are our options? The context of Willimon’s comment gives us some clues.

1. We need to face up to the fact that no one of us is beyond sin. Church members, pastors, DSs, Bishops – even little old church ladies – all can and do sin.

2. We need to recognize sin as sin. It’s not just the way we’ve always done things. It’s not just a necessary evil. It’s not just a tragic flaw or a mistake. It’s sin. It’s death. It hurts people and it hurts our relationship with God. Our sin is an impediment to the action of the Kingdom of God.

3. We need to remember that Jesus dealt decisively with sin in his life, death, and resurrection. All the powers of sin, death and hell have been defeated. For those of us who belong to Jesus, there is no temptation to which we have to succumb. Through the Spirit, God gives us the resources we need to say no to sin and yes to God.

4. As Christians, we need to hold each other to account. We cannot sweep either our own sin or the sin of others under the rug, or box it up and stick it in the basement where no one will see it. And we need to practice this accountability from the very beginning of a person’s walk with Christ., not waiting until they are at their pinnacle of power and influence.

5. We need to fight sin with grace, not self-righteousness and legalism. We leave self-righteousness aside by encouraging others to hold us accountable rather than being touch about anyone ever finding fault with us. We’re pointing people toward Jesus, not ourselves. We eschew legalism by putting our obedience (the opposite of sin) in the context of love and passion for Jesus.

6. Finally, we need to hold on to the conviction that a life of joyous obedience to Jesus is not only possible but is the norm. A mopey “I’m not perfect, just forgiven” is not God’s desire for us. Rather, we (Christians, not just clergy) are called to demonstrate in our lives the reality of Jesus’ grace and power.

Sin? That’s not surprising. No news there. Holiness? Righteousness? Joyful repentance? Those might just draw someone’s attention to Jesus.

Posted in Discipleship, Discipline, Sin, Will Willimon | Leave a comment

Church as Laboratory

In their On the Moral Nature of the Universe, Nancey Murphy and George Ellis say, “The church is a laboratory for imagining and practicing new forms of social life.” What do they mean by this?

Our first thought might be to take this claim absolutely. Regardless of the background, regardless of the catalog of forms of social available, the church’s calling is to be creative, coming up with new ones. On this view, the point is to be new. This is not their claim, however.

This quote is from a section of their text that examines the preponderance of violent and coercive forms of social life. Wherever we look, we see forms of social life that exemplify greed, lust, vengeance, envy, etc. The church, recognizing these social realities, not just out there, but also in our own midst, is called to own up to these realities and experiment with other ways of doing life together, through the power of Christ. By discovering and then practicing these new forms of social life, we not only find a blessing for ourselves, but show the world another way to live. Who knows – some might find it attractive and come investigate the life we’ve found in Jesus.

Posted in Discipleship, Ecclesiology, Ethics | Leave a comment

Civil?

I’ve seen this claim several times, as part of an apologetic for same-sex marriage.

Marriage is a civil ceremony. Because it is a civil ceremony, it is a civil right.

I don’t get it. The hidden premise, “All civil ceremonies are civil rights,” is by no means credible.

Or perhaps there is another hidden premise here. “What is a civil right for one person, must be a civil right for all people.” Again, this seems very doubtful.

Consider presidential inauguration. Inauguration is a civil ceremony. It is not, however, a civil right. Or, if we want to call it a civil right, we need to recognize that it fails the second hidden premise. First, not all people are constitutionally qualified to be elected president. Second, only a very few people – one person at a time, and that only once every four years – is elected president and thus considered inaugurable.

Another strategy would be to admit the initial claim, with these caveats in place. We might say,

Marriage is a civil ceremony that united a man and a woman. Any man has the civil right to marry any woman. Any other kind of union might qualify as a union, but it need not qualify as a marriage.

Our society puts qualifications even on this kind of formulation. Some kinds of relationship are out of bounds. Still, our liberal understanding of marriage allows that any unmarried man of marriageable age may marry any unmarried woman of marriageable age, if such requirements as non-consanguinity are met.

Some might say that what is being claimed in this (original) assertion is not a right to marry (since men already have the right to marry women), but a right to redefine marriage itself, making it no longer the union of a man and woman, but any person and any other person. I wouldn’t be surprised if some are making this redefinition claim. The weakness of this defense is that the definition of marriage has long been malleable. Of late, it has been pushed so far in the direction of romantic love that it has lost many of its earlier (and, I believe, important features). If the sole purpose of marriage has become the union of two people who feel romantic love toward each other, or who are sexually attracted to each other, then defenders of same-sex marriage make sense when they wonder why they can’t make this little tiny change, a change, as I’ve observed, already in line with the direction the culture is going?

Posted in Culture, Current events, Marriage, Politics | Leave a comment

Why College?

When a person chooses to go to college, what does that person take herself to be seeking? What is the expected outcome of the (usual) four years of time, work and expense?

The first answer many in our culture offer is something like this: I go to college so I can get a better job than if I don’t go.

From at least the beginning of high school students are told that lifetime wages track directly with education. The more education one has, the more income one will have. If one has a bachelors degree, one will make more than another with just a high school diploma. If one has a masters, one will make more than another with just a bachelors. If one has a doctorate or professional degree, one will make even more. This common claim is easy to understand. It makes sense. It’s a good sales point for colleges and universities. It’s also not the whole truth, especially in the current economy.

Factors other than level of education affect one’s earnings. The two major factors are probably the field of study and the school granting the degree. Since wages are based on demand, fields where the demand for more workers is higher tend to pay more, the harder those positions are to fill. My BA was in history. I was a good history student. I had good grades. But the jobs for people with a BA in history are few. Engineers, on the other hand, are in greater demand. As far as wages are concerned, a degree in history (whatever the level) will almost always pay less than the same level degree in engineering. This field variance of wages is such that even a mere bachelors degree in some fields will pay more than a doctorate in others.

The school granting the degree is also a factor. While this is partially due to the difference in a school’s prestige, I believe it is even more due to the networks of relationship going to a particular school opens up to a student. In many fields the way one gets a job owes more to who one knows than what the diploma or transcript says. We might like to believe that all our businesses and institutions are neutral and objective. When humans are involved it’s just not realistic to believe this, however. Especially when the number the job applicants out numbers the openings, the people do the hiring will naturally listen to people they know. How better to sift through piles of applications and resumes that look essentially the same?

Colleges and universities say, explicitly or implicitly, Come to our institution. Invest four years of your life. If you do so, youwill get a good job, youwill get ahead in life. Often this is true. But not always. And our educational institutions can’t make it or guarantee it.

Are there other answers given to the “Why should I go to college” question? From what I’ve seen, one of the most popular answer boils down to, “College is fun.”

I liked my college experience. I got a good education, made lots of friends, found a wife, and had fun. My idea of fun is likely not the same as most other college students. Back in my day going to parties was one of the big events on campus. Most students seemed to think they were great fun. I tried a few and found them intensely boring. But that’s not the point. College is a big enough place, with enough varied opportunities, that almost anyone can find experiences that count as fun. Some of these experiences may be outright hedonism while others are exemplars of community service.

In my experience, college was way more fun than high school. Maybe the main reason for that was the greater freedom. In terms of classes, I wasn’t forced to take all the same classes as everyone else. I had the freedom to pursue my own interests and curiosities. College is more than classes, however. As a college student I also had the time and space to define my identity. I brought with me the material from my upbringing: my family inheritance, my life experiences, my church background, etc. College, through the classes, activities, and relationships with people from around the world, opened my life, giving me much more input to build my life. The college I attended was not in my home town, so there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I conformed to some ideal. I could be whoever and whatever I wanted, whether for good or ill.

Most colleges today seem to take a mostly hands-off approach to this project of identity construction. Well, at least that’s the official line. Sure they want their students to be excellent, ethical, and generous to their communities (especially later when the alumni fundraisers call). But the first two of these attributes shift with the culture and include values commonly called “politically correct.” Schools that identify as Christian schools sometimes take a more explicit interest in their students’ identity construction, wanting the students to come to faith in Christ, grow and solidify in that faith, and join the mission of Jesus with their whole lives.

Schools have a little more power to enforce identity creation than they do connecting graduates with jobs and nice incomes, but less than they used to. Some elements of identity are officially off limits. When I was in college, for example, having persons of the opposite sex spend the night in your dorm room was against the rules. Alcohol was also forbidden on campus, unless, as the rule stated, it was in a brown bag. (I never understood that one.) Then, as now, students were prohibited from having illegal drugs on campus. My first seminary roommate told me of the school he started at. I’d heard of schools so conservative that they had rules against listening to Rock music (since it was of the devil). He told me that his college was more conservative than that. Instead of identifying a class (or classes) of music students could not listen to, they passed out a list of the only albums students were allowed to listen to.

Our culture values autonomy. In fact, autonomy is one of our highest values. For that reason, most of academia takes it as axiomatic that our job in the quest for identity creation is to make space for development of that autonomy. We teach Piaget and Kohlberg and their models of moral development, which rate autonomy the highest. We eschew passing judgment on students’ life choices (well, at least we say we do).

Back to fun. Creating an identity is fun – and necessary for a well-integrated life down the road. Exploring new options and trying them out is an important part of what students seek at college.

Perhaps I should refine that. In my experience at least, while I enjoyed the identity creation element of college life, I never would have offered that as a reason to people asking me why I went to college. I simply wasn’t self-aware enough to know what was happening. Those who teach in my field (Religion and Philosophy) have a role to play here. At the Christian college where I teach, we not only advocate following Christ – all Christian colleges talk about that – but we also have the responsibility of helping students become aware of the identity construction process. We help them become self (and world) aware.

We cannot guarantee students either that they will leave with a well-constructed and integrated identity or any particular flavor of identity. Try as we might, the modern college and university is too large an institution to make such a promise for our students. It is also not something we have the right to enforce. Just as students can decide not to read, study, do their work or go to class, students can avoid the opportunities for identity creation. One of the main ways to avoid this project is through pursuit of a pure hedonistic fun that never submits to examination or evaluation. Delaying gratification, submitting our desires to rigorous examination, is profoundly counter-cultural. It is difficult, and often painful. It’s almost always easier to consume some chemicals (drugs, alcohol), watch a movie, have sex, or sleep. The path of least resistance is a popular one. While we cannot compel students to go the right direction (i.e., take up engagement with difficult questions of identity and a willingness to practice self-examination), we can advocate for it and exemplify it.

The biggest challenge to this model – college as identity formation – is the price. Who would pay hundreds of thousands of dollars (in direct and in opportunity costs) for a good they’re not aware of? Many parents would expressly reject the idea of paying their hard-earned money to an institution on the pledge of helping their children figure out who they are. Parting with a huge pile of money with the golden pot of likely higher wages is one thing; parting with it to change your kids into something you might not even approve of is another thing altogether. It is also unlikely that parents will part with that pile of money for their kids to merely have fun of the more hedonistic sort, however much the kids might want them to do so.

I’ve examined two reasons people might give for going to college. The first, Go to college and get a degree so I can get a good, well-paying job, the second, Go to college and have fun, whether of the hedonistic or the identity formation sort. It’s time for a third.

The next possibility is that a student comes to college driven by curiosity and a hunger for knowledge. It might even be that the student has tasted knowledge and wants to become part of an academic tradition. Some of these traditions will be knowledge based. She might have read about neutrinos passing their assigned speed limit or the quest for the Higgs boson, and wanted to be the one who made the next big discovery. Some will be service based. Perhaps he’s known a number of people who have suffered from cancer and he wants to join the health professions become equipped to help ease or even remove that suffering. Perhaps the student has experienced a calling from God and is pursuing training for ministry. Each of these quests can result in a well-paying job (or not). Each of thesecan result in fun (or not).

It is this third reason for going to college that our educational institutions can best deliver on. As students interact with faculty members, whether in class or out of class, they are interacting with people who are already participants in the various traditions of inquiry. The chemists are on campus to introduce students to the tradition of chemical inquiry. Historians are on campus to introduce students to the traditions of chemical inquiry. You get the idea.

How does this introduction happen? Perhaps most obviously it happens in formal classroom activity, in what are called “courses.” These courses seek to embody an transmit part of the body of knowledge and set of skills associated with the particular fields of inquiry.

A sometimes neglected component of this introduction is the affective dimension. This is the dimension of education that dives students the “want to,” that ignites their curiosity and fans it into flame. A syllabus alone won’t do that. Saying the course is required won’t do that. Even identifying a few Student Learning Outcomes won’t do that. Each of these means – and the possible outcome of a good grade – is compatible with never moving beyond the stance of the outsider, the one external to the tradition who never takes up a love for the tradition of inquiry.

[This is a work in progress. I will continue in the days ahead.]

Posted in Education, Higher Education | Leave a comment

Who Do You Ask?

If you want to learn how to bake, whom do you ask? Ask a baker. It’s obvious.

If you want to learn how to paint, whom do you ask? Ask a painter. That’s a no-brainer.

If you want to learn how to do wiring and electrical work, whom do you ask? Ask an electrician. Even children know that.

If you want to learn how to fish, whom do you ask? Ask a carpenter, surely!

Perhaps that last answer is not what you expected. I’m thinking of Matthew 4:19 where Jesus, a carpenter, says to some fishermen, “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

These guysalready were fishermen. They’d likely been fishing all their lives. Now here’s this carpenter talking about teaching them how to fish. Sure, he’s a weird guy. Fish for men. Where did he get such a wacky idea? Everyone knows fishermen fish for fish.

Oddly enough, these guys decided to check Jesus out. They followed him. Even though they lacked a formal education and would likely have looked at you funny if you asked them to define “metaphor,” they knew enough to know Jesus wasn’t speaking in a way we’d call literally. They fished with nets. He wasn’t talking about throwing nets over people and hauling them in. He certainly wasn’t talking about capturing people to use as food (that’s why they caught fish, after all).

They followed Jesus. They saw what he did, and learned to do what he did. They also learned to see what he saw: the crowds, harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Their hearts began to break as his heart was broken.

And they learned how to fish from the carpenter.

Posted in Bible, Evangelism, Jesus | Leave a comment

Subordination

In his book Bishop, Will Willimon says, “Leaders in the church are subordinate to the mission of the church.”

I served in a pastoral role for 25 years. During all that time, I, as pastor, was subordinate to the mission of the church. Fulfilling the mission of the church was more important than fulfilling me or making me happy. My whole professional life was subordinated to the mission of the church.

Maybe we’re not very controversial yet. Let’s see if I can push that direction.  I’d like to claim additionally, that even my non-professional life was subject to the mission of the church. Of course, that’s one of the things that makes the pastoral life stressful. We’re always on. There is no clear distinction between work and non-work. I represented Jesus and pursued his purposes all the time, every day. In theory anyway.

I’d even go so far as to say that even now that I am not serving in a pastoral role my life is still subordinated to the mission of the church. True, “mission of the church” is now less clearly attached to a particular congregation. I serve the mission of the church through my students and academic colleagues – even if the word “church” is never mentioned. I’m also still “on” 24/7. Even in the summer time I am accountable for how I represent Jesus, whether in the churches I attend, in my community, with my students (I stay in touch with several through the summer break), and in the wider world.

Are things getting stirred up yet? Let’s take another step.

If we take Willimon’s statement at face value, we notice that as it stands it doesn’t mention “pastors.” It talks about “leaders in the church.” As an ordained elder, even though I appointed beyond the local church, I am a leader in the church. But even those who are not ordained, those who are not appointed by the bishop, those who are lay leaders in the church – they, too, are to live lives subordinated to the mission of the church. Does this mean they need to quit their day jobs and be at the church all the time? Certainly not – not any more than this subordination to the mission requires pastors to be at the church all the time. Rather, whether are ordained or lay, if we are leaders in the church, there is a sense in which we are all always on. Our whole lives are subordinated to the mission of the church.

If our lives are going to be subordinate to the mission of the church it sure will be to our advantage to lead the church to clarity about what that mission is. Most of the churches I’ve been in could dream up enough activity to fill the lives of just about everyone. We’re experts at “busy” – we’re Americans, after all. But the mission of the church is nothing like, “Look busy! God might be looking!”

Are you clear on the mission of the church? Or are you just busy? Experiencing the power of God as God fulfills the mission of the church through us is awesome – highly rewarding. Mere busyness, however, just leads to exhaustion and burnout. Find the mission. Find your next step as a part of it. Step into it in faith.

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Sometimes Philosophers Make You Laugh

Can you tell what Rene Descartes is describing here? I bet you’ll laugh once you figure it out. (Courtesy of Iain McGilchrist)

[This] results when the blood coming from the right-hand cavity of the heart through the central arterial vein causes the lungs to swell up suddenly and repeatedly, forcing the air they contain to rush out through the windpipe, where it forms an inarticulate, explosive sound. As the air is expelled, the lungs are swollen so much that they push against all the muscles of the diaphragm, chest and throat, thus causing movement in the facial muscles with which these organs are connected. And it is just this facial expression, together with the inarticulate and explosive sound, that we call [X].

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Clergy & Laity

In Bishop, Will Willimon says,

Because I’m a Wesleyan I believe that all church leadership, bishops or otherwise, is best rationalized on utility rather than by puffed-up theological warrant. Like Luther, I prefer a pragmatic rather than an ontological definition of pastors; claim too much theological chrism for the ordained cleros and next thing you know you have damaged the baptismally bestowed ministry of the laos.

In my assessment, the dichotomy between clergy and laity has been highly destructive of our church health. The more we elevate the status of the clergy, the more we emphasize their differences from the laity, the unhealthier we get.

Early American Methodism needed lay leaders in a way twentieth century Methodism did not. In those days, pastors covered a circuit, traveling from church to church. Day to day ministry, if it was to be done, was done by the laity. At the same time we were growing our clergy leadership base to the point where the norm became each pastor having a congregation, we were also cutting back our understanding of ministry to “what pastors do.” Ministry by proxy, “I’ll tithe [well, ok, maybe not a tithe, but I’ll give some of what I have left after I pay all my bills and get everything I want], and that will be my role; since I pay the bills, you can do the ministry, pastor!” became common.

Ever since reading Wesley’s Journal in my college days, I’ve been attracted to his pragmatism, his willingness to change, adapt and innovate to do whatever needed to be done to make disciples of Jesus. Collins & Porras in Good to Great identified two connected practices that characterized the great organizations they studied. First, these organizations were ruthlessly clear about their mission, their purpose. They knew why they existed. Second, these organizations were completely flexible about everything else in order to fulfill their mission. That sounds like a description that would fit early Methodist pragmatism.

In the past generation, we’ve been uncertain whether to pursue an ontological or a functional understanding of the nature of clergy. When we want to move closer to Rome, for either ecumenical or theological reasons, we lean toward the ontological. When we focus on our mission of making disciples, I believe we’ll lean more toward the functional.

Is there room for the ontological? I think there is, but I’d rather see our focus on ontological difference pushed away from the cleros and toward the laos as a whole. We are fundamentally changed when we come to faith in Christ, when we become willing participants in his story, and receive the gift of the Spirit. In this, there is no difference at all between clergy and laity.

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