Pursuing Holiness

One of the defining convictions of the Methodist movement is that it is possible to live a holy life, a life pleasing to God. Methodists have at least given lip service to this conviction since the days of John Wesley in the 18th century.

This conviction was no less popular in Wesley’s day than it is now. Three primary inclinations work against the conviction that holiness is possible. Some people have been badly burned by those who proclaim themselves to be holy. Through those actions, the “holy” life has been imagined to be the “stuffy,” “stilted,” “inauthentic,” “mean-spirited” or “narrow” life. As second inclination that stands against the conviction of possible holy living is that it is not, in fact possible. Try as we might, we will inevitably fail. While the first inclination is usually rooted in ones experience of others, this second inclination is more often rooted in ones experience of oneself. We’ve made the resolutions, we’ve tried to be perfect, yet we fail over and over again. A third inclination looks elsewhere. It sees that language of holiness – like some other words (righteousness, goodness, etc.) – divides people. These people are holy, those people are not. What we ought to say, according to this inclination, is that sure, people mess up sometimes, but deep down, all people are good, all people are already holy. And because the opposite of holy is marginalized, the emphasis on holiness is either muted or rejected.

United Methodists wouldn’t deny either of these kinds of experiences – we’d be foolish to try. But these experiences don’t tell us everything we need to know. Methodists have, however, historically recognized the reality and depth of human sin, that deep down all of us, even the best of us, are estranged from God, and profoundly fractured inside. In spite of this assessment of the human condition, and in spite of these experiences, Methodists remain hopeful about the possibility of holiness.

First, Methodists consider the commands of scripture. At the very least we run into God saying, “Be holy, because I am holy.” Then Jesus had to go and use the “P” word: “Be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect.” While the counsel of despair might come on us at this point, Methodists have tended to draw the conclusion, “If God commands it, surely it must be possible.”

Second, Methodists consider that according to that same book of scripture, the life of holiness is not something we do on our own. My actions, my deed, my character, my performance, my resume – none of these will ever get me to the point where I am holy. Holiness, Wesley and his successors would say, is only possible through the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in us. The good news for us is that God not only commands holiness, but also graciously gives us the resources we need to live it.

It would be nice if, having said that our holiness is something the Holy Spirit does in us, we could just sit back, relax, and wait for it to happen. For holiness to happen, the Spirit will need to (a) remove some things, and, (b) add some other things. Some of this removing and adding is done through our cooperation, our learning to say NO to some of our desires and YES to God’s invitations. Just as marriage requires that we take up a certain set of practices, the life with God that leads to holiness requires us to take up certain practices.

Methodists modify these convictions with one more. The life of holiness, the embodiment of a life of love, joy and peace that is fully pleasing to God, is not only something for which we need the Spirit. It is also something for which we need other people. I will never be holy in isolation from the people around me. I need their input in my life. Sometimes that input is painful. They rebuke me and correct me. They offend me and hurt me, giving me opportunity to practice turning the other cheek and extending forgiveness. Other people, even those far from holiness (or at least far from what we take to be holiness), deliver us from self-righteousness by helping us see ourselves more clearly. Will we listen to them? Can we admit that we might hear the voice of God through them? It’s difficult, but that’s the way the holy life seems to work.

We also refuse to believe that holiness requires dullness. The life most pleasing to God is a life of love, joy, danger and adventure. Those are surely the characteristics we see in Jesus, the one we take as our model for life.

Are you interested in living a holy life? While Methodists believe Jesus is essential to the holy life, we don’t believe we have a corner on the market. In fact, we think we as a church are more likely to be holy the more we partner with disciples in other churches. Just as individuals usually go astray and miss holiness when they go it alone, so it is with churches. If you want live a holy life, try these few ideas. Worship God – not just on your own, but with others. Learn to hear “Yes” and “No.” Those inclined to depression and melancholy have trouble hearing Yes, while those convinced of their own rightness have trouble hearing No. God gives us both, so we need to be able to hear both. Take up some spiritual disciplines – reading the Bible, prayer, service. Finally, find a friend who would like to go on the journey with you, someone to encourage, provoke and challenge you, someone you will let speak into your life. Don’t go it alone.

Posted in Discipleship, Spirituality, United Methodism | 3 Comments

Latest from “Call to Action”

Tuesday, the United Methodist News Service put out its latest report on the work of the “Call to Action” Steering Team. They give the bad news first.

The United Methodist Church needs to change its operations denomination-wide to address financial challenges and be more relevant in its ministry around the globe.

True enough. We have plenty of financial challenges. But I’m not so sure about relevance. It seems the harder we pursue it the less we have it.

But there is also good news.

Despite these challenges, many churches of varied sizes and settings have found ways to grow and thrive.

In other words, while some churches seem locked in a death spiral of decline, some seem to be doing ok.

I’m not sure why we needed to fund two studies to discover this. Are there any surprises, anything unexpected here, anything that isn’t at the least verging on a truism?

They get more specific:

The study indicated some areas where improvement is needed:

  • More clarity and understanding about the denomination’s mission, culture and values
  • Less perceived organizational “distance” between and among the foundational units of the church
  • Better defined leadership roles, responsibilities, and accountability; and improvements in trust
  • More standardized management processes and reporting systems
  • Utilizing opportunities for improved affordability and effectiveness

It looks to me like the proposed solution is a more efficient and authoritative bureaucracy. Sounds like the usual solution those with power offer. Something along the lines of, “We have a great system, we just haven’t worked it purely enough, had the right people in the right positions, or, the people at the bottom (or congregations, in this case) just aren’t getting it.”

I have not heard enough to convince me that what we need is more power at the top, either of the denomination as a whole or of our annual conferences. More power for those in power is not a commonly successful strategy for working out trust issues – unless the trust we seek is something that can be commanded (as if by “trust” we mean people at the bottom “doing what we expect them to do”).

I see nothing here about theological or doctrinal clarity and unity. Of course, that might clash with what’s happening at Claremont School of Theology right now, so we’d better stay quiet about that.

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Predictable?

We’re just back from a trip to our 2010 family reunion. With a family of five, this means lots of driving to get there and back, staying in hotels, and eating out. Come mealtime while on the road, we tend to look for places we already know. We look for a place we know to have food the kids will eat and where we can predict there will be clean restrooms. Some places maintain pretty high standards wherever we find them (Chick-Fil-A currently heads our list). Other places vary greatly from place to place. We value the predictable.

But sometimes we stray across the line.

Since we were going to Paducah, Kentucky for the reunion, we could have taken the kids to the 6 Flags amusement park outside St. Louis. They’ve been to 6 Flags parks before. They know what to expect. Two out of three of the children would have been happy. Instead, we went to Silver Dollar City in Branson.

While SDC had roller coasters, it was not aimed entirely at teenagers and lovers of thrills. It was a park apparently designed for the whole family, for many age ranges. The layout of the park gave it a tinge of mystery. When I drive by a 6 Flags park, I can see several roller coasters and rides as I pass at 60 mph. When you approach SDC all you see is trees. Even as you’re in line for a roller coaster at SDC you can see very little – if any – of the ride. You don’t know what the ride is like until you experience it. It has a level of unpredictability I hadn’t seen at other amusement parks.

Can we handle unpredictability? In the current economic downturn most of our institutions have become extremely risk-averse. We perceive ourselves to have fewer resources – and doubt whether our resources, once expended, can be replenished. So we wait for the sure thing, the thing we see as predictable. Big business, though itself fragile of late, is much more predictable than anything new. So we go with the tried and true, the folks we know. Want to be creative, want to do something different? Well, just make sure you do it exactly like everyone else if you want any funding or support.

Predictability gives us a sense of calm. It delivers us from anxiety. We have enough stress and worry now that the more stability we can find, the better.

I read a book on Chaos Theory several years ago (I think it might have been the one by James Gleick). When researchers began examining the patterns of human heart rate over time, their initial expectation was that greater regularity would reflect greater health, while instability in the pattern would signal impending problems. They found exactly the opposite. Apparently a heart verging on unhealth was more easily predictable than a healthy heart.

Max Weber told us of movements started by charismatics that turned into institutions as succeeding generations turned their charisma into rational routines. Routinization makes things predictable as they run smoothly. We’d be in trouble without any routines to follow. I’d suggest, however, that we’re in just as much trouble if all we have are routines. In fact, one reason churches are declining so much in the US is that we have so majored on routines that we routinized away our need for God. We have all of church life entirely predictable, entirely routinized and rationalized. We are mortally afraid of being in a place of needing God. While God might be ok as an assumption of a transcendental argument, an actual living, guiding, providing, communicating, judging God is the last thing we want. At least that’s the conviction one might read from our actions.

I don’t know if it’s just because I’m a P in a world of J’s, but I don’t want to settle for the predictable. I don’t want to settle for a safe, secure, predictable life, a life where I can have God as my “buddy” or “heavenly Father.” I want a life of faith where if God doesn’t come through, I’m sunk.

That’s what I see in Jesus. When we look at Jesus we see plenty of predictability. If he crosses the authorities, they will stop him. If they aim to stop him, they won’t do it gently. They’ll act decisively. If they crucify him, he will die. If he dies, he’ll stay dead. Can’t get much more predictable than that. And yet Jesus went that way. He bet on the sure thing – against himself. And he won.

I want to walk the way of Jesus. No, I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want the world to turn against me. I don’t want to be crucified. But if that’s what it takes to follow the Jesus who said, “If anyone wants to follow me, let him take up his cross and follow me,” then that’s what I want.

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The Best Measure

What’s the best measure of effective ministry? What do we look for if we want to figure out whether effective ministry is happening or not?

Our first tendency is to look at the numbers. The bigger the numbers, the higher the effectiveness. Makes sense, doesn’t it? If I take over leadership of a church that has 100 in attendance and after a year there are 200 in attendance, I must be an effective leader, right? Or if I were a youth pastor and all my events were full of excited youth, surely it is a sign of effectiveness. These signs of effectiveness sure look attractive to me. But is my attraction to these bare signs of effectiveness right?

Suppose I am on a road trip. I manage to drive 650 miles a day. Have I been effective? Well, the numbers are there. High mileage, long hours, lots of gas burned. If my purpose is simply to stay on the road, then it looks like I’m being effective. But what if my purpose isn’t merely to be on the road but to arrive at a particular location? If I begin in Houston and intend to drive to Fort Worth and in the course of my journey drive 650 miles a day for a week and end up in Toronto, I may be busy, but I am anything but effective.

Back in my days of doing youth ministry I yearned for the big, exciting youth groups I saw other youth leaders creating. Part of it was that I really wanted to reach people for Christ. My desire for personal glory was also a part of it. I am blessed with a low-key personality that doesn’t lend itself to the extravagant excitement of some ministries. Since our numbers never got much higher than the mid 20s, how could I have ever accounted myself “effective?” Well, it depends on how and what you measure.

Early in my work in youth ministry (and carried over into later ministry roles) I decided that the best measure of effectiveness would be to see how my people were walking with Christ five years down the road. If I had hundreds brimming with excitement at one point and yet all had fallen by the wayside in five years, that’s not effectiveness.

Our main activities in my youth ministry years were bible study and prayer. I take joy in the fact that many of those youth are now, fifteen years later, still walking with Christ, several even in ministry of some sort.

When we think looking at numbers is the best way to measure effectiveness, we can come to the logical conclusion that the one we claim to follow was much less effective than we are. Just look at Jesus – at several points he had huge crowds following him. Sometimes they were so enthusiastic about him they were ready to make him king, then and there. But with his prickly, demanding personality, he managed repeatedly to run off the crowds, leaving only twelve shaky guys and a few women. I’m better than Jesus, aren’t I? I’ve never managed to run off so many people. I’ve never been so troublesome as to inspire the people around me to react in murderous hatred.

But what if numbers are only of intermediate value? Go back to my trip from Houston to Fort Worth. If I drive only 15 miles, I’ve missed my goal. But if I drive 280 miles (you can drive 280 miles from someplace in Houston and reach someplace in Fort Worth) but end up far from Fort Worth, I’ve also missed my goal.

Jesus was about what we call “life change.” He was out to seek and to save the lost. Sure he scattered his seed recklessly. Sometimes even the stony ground looked full of life. But it didn’t last there.

As I lead my church I’m looking for life change. Numbers are great, but they are easily deceptive. Having beautiful, useful, and well maintained buildings and grounds are useful. But they’re not the point. Making the budget without strain and paying our apportionments with ease would be nice, but if there’s no life change, we’re missing the point.

I want to see people fall in love with Jesus to such a degree that their relationship with Jesus becomes the center of their lives. I want to see people devoting their lives to Jesus’ kingdom and its purposes. I want to see people taking up Jesus’ mission as their own.

I don’t want people to only take up a Jesus life for a single instance. But if they never do it for a single instance, they’ll never do it for multiple instances. I want to see people take the first step – and then the next step and the next – with Jesus.

Posted in Discipleship, Local church, Ministry | Leave a comment

Avoiding the Sausage Factory

I like sausage. While I don’t like every kind of sausage I’ve ever tried, I like many of them. From what I’ve heard though, if I want to continue eating sausage I ought to avoid sausage factories. If I visited a sausage factory I’d see what goes into it – all the parts of the animal that people in our culture won’t buy any other way.

Paul addresses most of his epistles to “saints.” The saints in Rome, the saints in Corinth, the saints in Thessalonica, are the recipients of these letters. We think “saint” and “really holy, righteous person” comes to mind. Then we start reading these letters and we discern from Paul’s comments that these folks were not what we’d call “really holy, righteous people.” Yes, they had come to follow Jesus. Yes, they were church members and church leaders. But they didn’t get everything right. A fair number of them still looked like sinners.

We know the message of Jesus was holiness and righteousness. But we make some mistakes when we hear that message and try to instantiate it in our churches.

First, we sometimes thing that Jesus is telling us that being holy and righteous is the way to get in. That’s why I have people in my churches who ask, “Preacher, am I good enough to get in yet?” The answer is always, “No, but it doesn’t make any difference.” It’s not goodness that gets us in, it’s Jesus.

Second,  we expect that righteousness and holiness from others. If we’re insiders of the church, assuming our own righteousness and holiness, we might exclude folks who just aren’t as good as we are. If we’re outsiders contemplating coming in, we might shy away or give up when we discover that the insiders (the folks who are already there) are a bunch of hypocrites, proclaimers of a righteousness and holiness they fail to embody.

An easy response would be to say that righteousness and holiness are completely irrelevant. Since we are saved entirely by Jesus, what we do doesn’t matter. Since what we do doesn’t matter we can do whatever we want. Problem is, that doesn’t look like Jesus (or the rest of the NT) either.

I have a few suggestions as we seek to protect people from the “sausage factory” of the church.

First. we need to be forthright about our sin. Sin is not just a matter of imperfection (we’re only human), not just a small thing. Sin is big enough that it brought Jesus into the world and to the cross. Our sin is never to be easily dismissed or excused.

Second, complete forgiveness is available through Jesus. We confess, he forgives. We repent, we find deliverance.

Third, as we experience the mercy of God found in Jesus, we learn to live lives of gratitude. We let our expression of gratitude crowd out our experience of sinfulness (I’m just a horrible worm, worthy of nothing but hell) and our status of saint (I’m holy and righteous) so that the people around us get the sense that what we are is due to Jesus.

Fourth, we don’t present the church as a utopia – a place for perfect people. There’s a sense in which the common image is true: church is like a hospital. A hospital is a place for healing of the sick; a church is a place of healing for sinners. No sick folk, no hospital; no sinners, no church.

Fifth, it’s usually wise to avoid the particulars when talking to the church as a whole. It’s not usually effective in our setting to shame people into repentance. More often that strategy repels people. So we admit upfront that we are sinners, that we are a place for healing and forgiveness, but observe a sort of spiritual HIPAA when in public.

Sixth, sometimes we have to deal with particulars. We have troublesome church members. We have sin addicts sometimes in prominent positions in the church. This is the heart of the sausage factory. In at least some cases it it is the job of the leader (or leaders) to just bear with people. We seek their deliverance form sin, their healing from its effects. But we don’t advertise the sin or what we’re doing about it.

What do you think? Have you found effective ways to handle the “sausage factory” like aspects of the discipleship process?

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Dangerous Places

What should we make of this story?

Apparently a school district in Indiana planned to hold its graduation ceremonies at a local church. I’m sure the church was thinking, “This is a way we can be generous and share with our community.” I’m sure the district was thinking something like, “This building seats more people than any of our venues, other than the football field, and since we can’t predict the weather, an indoor location would be perfect. Besides, the church is letting us use their space for free, so the price fits our budget.”

But as we see in the story, other people had other thoughts. One student thought ‘s/he would be “forced to submit to a religious environment that … will make me feel extremely uncomfortable and offended.”‘ A Jewish student ‘said s/he would not have attended the ceremony because s/he would “feel that the Cathedral is proselytizing its Christian beliefs … through its scriptures and symbols.”‘

Some of us might be inclined to respond, “But it’s only a church! How dangerous can a church be?” I agree with Mark Galli, the author of the piece in Christianity Today, that there is a good thing about these students being uncomfortable.

One the one hand, we need to relearn the power of our places. To do this, we’ll have to get beyond our buddy relationship with the American civil religion that sees a generic god underlying all religion and can find crosses and the Ten Commandments as mere “symbols,” and thus amenable to secular usage. While the god of civil religion is tame and fairly safe (as long as you’re an American), the real God, the Father of Jesus Christ, is dangerous. If one gets too close one just might become a believer, a follower of Jesus.

On the other hand, Christians need to recover a sense of the power of other places. As William Cavanaugh notes in his Myth of Religious Violence, the dividing line between “religions” and other socio-cultural phenomena is not as unambiguous as apologists for modern secularism would have us believe. Just as churches can be dangerous places for those who do not yet follow Jesus, temples of the other gods currently popular in our culture – Nike, Mammon, and Mars – can be dangerous for followers of Jesus.

Once we recognize the potential danger of these places, should we get engage these institutions through our court system? Bringing lawsuits has been the American way for several centuries now. I don’t think we ought to follow that strategy, however.

First, though our culture holds Nike, Mammon, Mars and their associates in high honor, it is mostly blind to the religious and devotional nature of their rites. Or to put it simply, we’d be laughed out of court. Given our Christian captivity to so many of these rites, we’d even have many of our fellow believers looking at us as if they need to call the men in white jackets to haul us away.

Second, Jesus has already declared that “all authority in heaven and earth has been given to him.” We also see that in his death and resurrection he has defeated all the principalities and powers. So toward these gods and their institutions we can have the same snarky attitude Isaiah exhibits toward those who make their own gods. More profoundly, however, we are called to go to their territory and rescue those who are now enslaved to those non-gods. A major way we do that is by publicly exhibiting a different lifestyle and allegiance to another kingdom.

A final consequence that comes to mind in this context is that Christians need to become more aware that the neutral institutions of our society – I think here primarily of our “public schools” – are rarely, if ever, neutral. In some communities, especially in small towns in the Bible Belt, there is still a veneer of Christian culture associated with the schools. But in the rest of the country, and in larger school systems, the point of the educational system is not merely a neutral and universally beneficial acquisition of “facts” and “skills,” but an enculturation into a particular way of living. Some Christians who recognize this withdraw and form their own schools. Others withdraw into home schools. Both can be effective ways of providing alternative enculturation (into the Kingdom of God). Of course, both strategies can be just plain withdrawal. When Christians pursue the strategy of keeping their kids within the educational structures of the dominant culture, they need to (a) stay aware of the power of enculturation into non-Christian ways of living, and (b) provide alternative enculturation that will enable young followers of Jesus to learn Kingdom living.

Posted in Church & State, Consumerism, Culture, Current events, Ecclesiology, Public Schools | Leave a comment

NOT the meaning of life

Of my many experiences at the meeting of the Texas Annual Conference last week, perhaps that most striking was Bishop Huie’s mention that the West Ohio Annual Conference was losing 42 positions for Elders this year. She didn’t share anything of the context, so I don’t know how retirements, church closings, mergers, consolidations, etc., come into the picture. I know nothing how this compares with trends there over the past decade. But 42 – that’s huge!

When Bishop Huie arrived in our conference (about five years ago) she observed that fewer than 50% of our congregations showed a single profession of faith during the previous year. “Profession of Faith” is church-speak for “a person who was not a practicing Christian or a member of any church became one.” Yes, it’s hard to imagine, given Jesus’ attitude on the matter, that so many churches would not be winning a single person to faith in a year.

This year we learned that we have improved. Now something like 63% of our congregations have had at least one profession of faith. We cheered the good news. But it’s only a start. Nothing was said of the reality that so many of our churches are dominated by older generations. When over half of your active, dedicated members are over 70 years old, where does that put you in ten years – even if you manage to add a new person by profession of faith each year?

The Texas Conference is awesome! The Texas Conference is great! The Texas Conference is the largest in the country (not true, though I’ve heard it several times)! Bad things – like losing openings for Elders – might happen in places like Ohio, but never here. Or so we seem to believe. But demographics alone ought to lead us to action. I see three actions we need to take now.

First, we need to get on our faces before God and pray. We need to confess our apathy, complacency, our love for playing church games. We need a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit on all our people, all our congregations.

Second, we need to regain evangelistic passion. This will be hard, because it will be easily confused – by us an others – as stemming from a fear of institutional survival. “Our ship is sinking – come join us as we bail!” Not veyr attractive is it? As Leonard Sweet & Frank Viola urge, this will mean dealing with our JDD – Jesus Deficit Disorder.

Third, we need to plant churches. Here in the TAC we’ve been better at that these past five years. We’re still not at the Bishop’s goal of 10 new plants a year. She identified the two major impediments as a lack of people equipped to plant and a lack of churches who will “mother” the plants. Our congregation gets to mother a plant beginning this year, and I’m excited to be able to contribute. The harder barrier of church planting will be beginning to plant churches where “new churches aren’t needed,” that is, in locales where we “already have a United Methodist Church.” Sure, that church may not be growing our reaching anyone – though they did have one profession of faith last year – but if we only pour more money into it they will turn around, they will become a powerhouse for evangelism. I wish.

Posted in church growth, Texas Annual Conference, United Methodism | 1 Comment

The problem of technology

I read a fair number of books. When they grab me, I’ll apply myself and read them quickly. When they don’t,  I’ll work more slowly. Albert Borgman’s Power Failure: Christianity in the Culture of Technology is one of the latter. I received it as a Christmas gift in 2008 (don’t you wish your presents were as good as mine!), and am still reading it.

In chapter 4, “Contingency and Grace,” Borgmann talks about our perception that our culture is unfriendly to the Christian faith, though he takes what we perceive as “unfriendliness” (or outright hostility) is better described as indifference. The root of this indifference is a culture closed off to grace, and the root of that closure to grace is our rejection of contingency.  He says:

Grace is always undeserved and often unforethinkable, and a culture of transparency and control systematically reduces, if it does not occlude, the precinct of grace. A technical term for what lies beyond prediction and control is contingency. What we need is to recover then as a condition of receiving grace is the realm of significant contingency. (p. 65)

You can tell right away that Borgmann is one of those philosophers comfortable with neo-logisms – “unforethinkable.” At least I’ve never seen it before, though its meaning is fairly clear. We don’t like the unexpected. We want to be able to control and predict our world. We think we ought to be able to understand everything.

Christians are not immune to this attitude. In fact, I wonder if what we see in our broader culture isn’t a secularization of a Christian desire to eliminate contingency. The Christians who aspire to this may not look to science, technology and human control of all things, but they do look to God as the One who controls everything. If this is the way God operates then there is no contingency. Everything that happens has been determined by the active willing of God to so happen. There is nothing that happens that is not in accordance with God’s will. What our current society has done is take this desire for non-contingency and brought it fully into the human realm. We humans ought to know and understand everything. If we understand the initial conditions of the system, we ought to be able both to predict the future of the system and to bring about our desired state of affairs. A perfect Newtonian worldview.

Borgmann identifies this aversion to grace and contingency and its love of control with “modern technology.” (p. 66) I’m spurred by this to not think only of our common understanding of technology, that which deals with physics, chemistry and other physical sciences, but our social technology. My beef isn’t so much with computers, cell phones, and the like (at least not right now), but with Max Weber’s routinization of charisma and rationalization of social processes.

I agree with Borgmann: our culture’s infatuation with “transparency and control” has been an expression of closure to grace and the contingency that would make room for it. Inasmuch as I am an inhabitant of this culture, I share that concern. But my greater concern is that the church has completely bought into Weberian social technology, whether implicitly or explicitly, leading to the church disallowing contingency – and grace – in favor of command and control.

Some of our churches express our dedication to Weber with our command and control bureaucracies, our commitment to systems of rational administration, management and accountability. Other churches turn away from mid-twentieth century bureaucratic forms, embracing instead a pursuit of “leadership.” Books, videos, conferences and courses in this “leadership” have been multiplying over the past decade or so. Once upon a time pastors flocked to Evangelism or Prophecy conferences. Now we flock to Leadership conferences. We need to hear the latest digest of leadership “principles” that we can take home and apply to our churches. Once we master these principles, we will be able to assure the right results.

You may notice the problem with both these approaches, the bureaucratic (my own denomination’s favorite) and the cult of leadership. Who needs grace? Sure, we can look back on people who had charisma, the founders of our movements. They did awesome and amazing things. But now we have their “principles” and “systems” to go on. If we work the system, apply the principles, things will turn out right.

But I’m an anti-Weberian on this. I think our commitments to bureaucratic rationality and the cult of leadership are forms of institutional atheism. Who needs God, when we have the right methods, the right principles? I’d argue instead that the need in our churches is not a more efficient bureaucracy, a more effective system, or better crafted principles. While none of these are evil – or even bad – in themselves, they have become for us a substitute for the Holy Spirit. We will not be the church we want to be – or need to be – apart from a fresh filling and empowerment by the Spirit. I say this knowing full well that one of the problems of the Spirit is unpredictability. When the Spirit leads, we don’t know what will happen next. Our penchant for planning is marginalized. But I’d still rather have the Spirit.

Some will say, “That’s all very nice. But Weber was just describing the way things are. Organizations do start with charismatic leaders. When the next generation lacks the charisma of the founder, they rationalize and routinize what they see in the founder. That’s just the way it is.” Maybe so. Maybe what Weber says is an accurate description of the way organizations have worked. So what? Must they be that way? Must we reject grace in favor of a completely naturalized rationality? I’d rather not.

Posted in Albert Borgmann, church growth, Max Weber, Ministry, United Methodism | 1 Comment

Changing the Covenant

Some of the latest big news in the UMC is from the study committee that is suggesting that we do away with the “guaranteed appointment” for ordained Elders. It is “a promise the church can no longer keep.” For those who are not familiar with the current system, here’s how things are now (very much abbreviated).  First, you spend tens of thousands of dollars and at least seven years getting college and seminary degrees. Second, you go through rounds of paper work, interviews, and psychological tests to be approved for ordination. Third, when you are ordained you agree to go anywhere within the conference that the bishop might send you. There are no promises regarding housing (in many places you’ll likely have a parsonage, that may or may not be up to official standards) or location. Currently each conference sets a minimum salary for pastors, so you’ll be paid at least that much.  There is no guarantee that you’ll fit the place, that your family needs will be met (you’re better off not having a family if all you consider is the appointment system – just ask JW or FA). There’s no guarantee how long you’ll be there, though the standard appointment is for a year, and the trend is toward longer appointments. So as the “covenant” now stands, it’s something like, “Do what we tell you, and you’ll be guaranteed a job.” The alternative is something like, “Do what we tell you, and you might have a job.”

The commission has observed that some pastors are ineffective and mediocre. This is an accurate perception. (Of course, whether my definition and application of “ineffective” and “mediocre” matches any one else’s is where things start getting dicey.)

Some things that would clear the air before the “covenant” is changed:

  1. Increase trust in the church. As it is, there is deep distrust between pastors and the church hierarchy, congregations and the hierarchy, and pastors and churches. This fundamental pathology is part of what is dragging us down. As long as we are fundamentally a top-down authoritarian system – which the current proposal regarding elders exacerbates – trust will continue to be lacking.
  2. Find a shared vision for ministry and a shared theological vision. We have the Book of Discipline with our “official doctrine,” but this is “official” more than it is operational (to use George Lindbeck’s helpful terms), or “not to be taken literally and juridically” (in the Discipline’s language). We have Bishop Schnase’s 5 practices, but these are flexible and institutional enough that they can be interpreted so many ways that they allow too much wiggle room. We have our mission statement – “To make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world,” but lacking a shared understanding of who Jesus is and what transformation he seeks, “disciple” remains a fuzzy, feel-good term for many. We have our marketing mantra, “Open hearts, Open minds, Open doors,” but that is the gospel of inclusivism, not the gospel of Jesus.
  3. We need to address the theological and ecclesial vision being inculcated in our seminaries. Is what they teach our future elders compatible with our vision for reaching people? If not, are we willing to hold them accountable, or do we bow before the gods of “academic freedom,” “theological pluralism,” and “we’ve always done it this way?”
  4. Be open and honest about incentives and God-talk. When most pastors are responsible for raising families, they find themselves in a situation where it can be useful to have (a) salaries that enable them to care for their families, and (b) housing that fits their families. This sometimes happens. But sometimes it doesn’t. At least in some conferences there are some churches that pay larger salaries than others, and some that have different configurations of housing. Being appointed to a church with a larger salary (or a larger house) looks like an incentive to some people. Some people internalize the notion, “I have an incentive to do well in this appointment. If I do well (i.e., if I am effective) in this appointment this incentive will work for me.” Boy, that sounds pretty crass and materialistic, doesn’t it? That’s why we prefer to only talk about “God” and “calling” in this regard. Those things that look like incentives, really aren’t. In each and every case, whether you get huge raises with every move or move from small church to small church, you are pursuing the call of God. Doubtless. But the appearance of these “incentives” sure does skew perception and morale. Especially when the folks who run the system tend to consistently receive so many more “incentives” than those who don’t. If we could talk about these things openly, I think it’d help.
Posted in Ministry, United Methodism | 4 Comments

I’m Not Drawing Today

Today is “Draw Muhammad Day.” I won’t be taking part.

One response will be, “Of course you won’t. You can’t even draw a straight line with a ruler!” Well, yes, that is true. But even if I could, I wouldn’t be joining in.

Some people will be “drawing Muhammad” today to mock those who kill (or threaten to kill) people who draw Muhammad. They observe that on some occasions drawing a picture can drive crowds into murderous frenzies. Others are happy to draw the pictures simply to mock Islam. “We’re more Enlightened than you are. So there!”

While mocking is better than killing, I can’t see either as an appropriate way for followers of Jesus to relate to outsiders. My primary calling is to help people become followers of Jesus. In my experience the practice of humility and respect has produced more fruit than mockery, derision, and superiority. I can’t imagine many people responding, “Your mockery has enlightened me. I think I will turn my back on Muhammad and embrace your ways.”

So what’s the alternative? Rather than simply not drawing Muhammad, how about a “Pray for Muslims Day?”

Posted in Culture, Current events, Islam, Prayer | 3 Comments