Practical Credibility

Here's a GREAT quote, chock-full of wisdom, from Maggi Dawn:

"I always encourage people to buy in thoroughly to whatever they are in to. It shows a serious lack of character, I think, to hover on the edge of something being cool and cynical and never getting your hands dirty - kind of belonging, but without ever getting committed. I'd much rather get involved in whatever I do, despite the risk of getting egg on my face."

I'm always inclined to listen more closely to practitioners than I do to theorists -- it's easy to critique and deconstruct, but not as easy to reconstruct, and those who are getting their hands dirty in actual ministry have greater credibility.

I value theorists, dreamers, and prophetic voices -- quite highly -- but if John Wimber is correct in saying "faith is spelled R-I-S-K", then there comes a time where cynicism, past hurts from church, and fear of others' opinions must give way to stepping out into the unknown.

Bride As Metaphor

My last post concerned the meaningfulness of new metaphors. My basic premise is that a metaphor that doesn't have the power to change -- at a deep, instinctive level -- the way that we view and approach life, isn't helpful to us. The example I gave was of a gas station attendant calling him/herself a "Petroleum Transfer Engineer"; it sounds more impressive but it doesn't change anything of consequence.

Wendy and I were looking at the metaphor of the "Bride" as we discussed the power (or lack of power) in adopting new metaphors. "The Bride of Christ" is a recurring metaphor found within the Bible itself, and while I'm not suggesting that this means it should trump all other metaphors, it's as good as place as any to start.

(It might be beneficial to note that if metaphors work mostly to make us comfortable and at ease, then they may be more self-serving than sanctifying.)

In our contemporary society, the Bride as metaphor would be interpreted that God is the Lover of our souls, the One who wooes us to Himself, who loves us to the ultimate act of self-sacrifice to re-establish relationship between Himself and His rebellious creation. Again, this interpretation of the Bride metaphor can certainly be found in Scripture and is helpful to us.

But as Wendy pointed out, a significant difference is that our contemporary society has made the wedding day and ceremony revolve around the Bride -- it's "the bride's day". To the original hearers/readers of Paul's letters, however, it was entirely the opposite:

• the Groom came for the bride at an undisclosed time, so the bride had to make sure she was always ready (think of how well that would go over today!)
  
• the Bride gave up all her rights
  
• the Bride was completely dependent on the Groom
  
• while contemporary marriages are a partnership of equals, this was not the case to the original hearers/readers of this metaphor

Personally, I like the egalitarian partnership of equals in my own marriage, but I would like to suggest that our interpretation of what it means to be the Bride of Christ should look more to the first-century understanding. For example, can we imagine the arrogance to think that the metaphor of "the Bride" meant that we were an egalitarian partnership of equals -- us and Jesus?

If we look to the Bride as a metaphor for "the church", in the first century understanding, what does that imply? For a few things (certainly not an exhaustive list):

• we give up our rights (as opposed to "I've accepted Jesus, but I haven't made Him Lord of my life" -- that kind of thinking is not only faulty, but dangerous)
  
• we are completely dependent (as opposed to "Oh, God, would You add Your blessing to what we've done" added almost as an afterthought to all of our busywork)
  
• we live by His timetable, not expecting Him to abide by ours (as opposed to "I really must get around to dealing with that area of my life...")
  
• It really IS all about the Groom and His story (as opposed to expecting that we are the focal point, and we are simply adding Jesus to OUR story)

Well, whaddaya think? Any other input or suggestions on the implications of the Bride as a metaphor?

Juicy Metaphors

I was talking to a friend recently about the power of new metaphors, which will make Len Hjalmarsson a happy camper (Len loves a good metaphor), and I came away from the conversation wondering if, for all of our talk of the necessity of new metaphors for leadership and being the church, if some people aren't simply rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

Allow me to be more precise: metaphors that have no power to effect change in our inner paradigms are not going to get us where we need to go.

For example, in the working world, some people are given a new title (metaphor) in their line of work, but nothing changes about WHAT they do, only what they identify themselves as.

Trouble is, if you're still doing the exact same kind of dreary work, then it doesn't really matter what you use as a new metaphor -- nothing's changed. It's about as effective as the person who pumps gasoline at the local Esso station calling him/herself a "Petroleum Transfer Engineer". It might sound more impressive, but at the end of the day, the poor sod is still running out in the pouring rain or driving snow to pump gasoline for other people sitting in their warm, dry cars.

That would be an example of a meaningless metaphor, because calling yourself a Petroleum Engineer wouldn't, and couldn't, change the parametres of your "calling" as a gas jockey.

In the same way, if the new metaphors we employ regarding leadership and what it means to be the church don't in some way have the power to actual change the way we think about leadership and what it means to be the church, then we might as well stop looking for new metaphors.

If you really like the metaphor of church as a hospital, that SHOULD have strong implications on how you treat people, what values you would look for in those to lead, and what you would say yes or no to in ministry.

If you prefer the metaphor of the church as an army (and there's some already-existing scriptural examples that would go a long way in bolstering this metaphor), then that SHOULD have a profound impact on how you approach issues of justice, evangelism, and even your prayer ministry.

Some people have latched onto the metaphor of church as corporation, and that SHOULD have (and has had) serious implications for how the church is led, what gifts are valued within the church, and the strategies that the church will use to reach their goals.

You may not like these three examples of metaphors (I don't), which is fine because that's not really the main focus of this entry. I'm just becoming more aware that if we're going to use new metaphors for leadership, what it means to be the church etc., those metaphors MUST have the power to affect a deep change in our paradigms, or we're only putting a band-aid on a patch of leprous skin.

How's THAT for a metaphor?

What's on your heart to do?

In my new role (former role, as of 23 March 2005) as Director of Youth Discipleship & Mission, I get to meet with, converse with, and minister with a variety of churches with many different emphases. Even among the youth staff at the office, there are widely divergent approaches and ecclesiologies, which has been invaluable for helping me to sharpen and challenge my own thinking.

Recently, as part of that process, I found myself in a day-long series of seminars hosted by the Willow Creek Association of Canada, listening several times to none other than Bill Hybels himself (the guru of the seeker-sensitive movement) -- some pomergent friends of mine are having convulsions just reading this sentence!

I found Bill to be an engaging speaker, a very intelligent communicator with a strong passion to see churches be relevant to a world that does not (yet) know or follow Jesus. Bill's passion is to train leaders to multiply the Kingdom -- you'd have to be beyond cynical to question his heart or his motives, whatever you might think of the seeker model.

Two things occurred to me as I listened to Bill talk about "strategic leadership":

1. I had noticed about ten years ago that many churches had adopted an approach to leadership that basically said "Hey, look at Robbymac (I'll use myself as a generic example) -- he's such an evangelist. Let's put him in charge of evangelism." And Robbymac, wanting to serve his church, would allow himself to be taken out of the works of evangelism he had been doing that had caught the attention of the leaders, and be placed in an administrative position of creating and overseeing the evangelistic programs of the church.
   
   Until, a few months or years later, when Robbymac gave up in frustration because nobody supported all the evangelistic programs, and while everybody took the training in evangelism classes that he started, nobody would actually DO anything evangelistic -- except signing up for more and more training.
   
   Hopefully, Robbymac would simply give up on the position and go back to being an evangelist, but the landscape is littered with little Robbymac's that gave up on leadering and on evangelizing due to being burnt out and feeling inadequate.
   
   And I wondered, then and now, when we take somebody out of what they have passion for, and put them in the administrative position of overseeing what they used to pour themselves into, why are we surprised that they lose heart? And then we have the audacity to put them on the shelf and repeat the process with somebody else?
   
   
2. Bill Hybels made a very thought-provoking comment in his last address, something to the effect of struggling when "the demands of strategic leadership clash with the values of spiritual formation". Bill's example was what to do when someone as strategic and busy as he was happened to bump into a grieving mother in the church lobby.
   
   The demands of strategic leadership would say "you've trained other to do this -- your time is scarce and you need to learn to say no", while the values of spiritual formation would say "gee, wasn't the Parable of the Good Samaritan about this very thing? How could I NOT slow down and care for a smoldering wick or a bruised reed?" (Matthew 12:20)
   
   I suspect that one of the major departure points between the "stragetic leadership" (cynics would label it the CEO management model) movement and the emerging church movement would be their answer to that struggle. Or as one of my co-workers remarked earlier today, "we'd evaluate 'effectiveness' by a different grid'."

P.S. I had a great time teaching at Tyndale Seminary yesterday, although trying to cover "Postmodernism & the Emerging Church" in one three-hour class was extremely crazy! It should really be a course -- or several courses -- all on its own. But it's a start, and I had a lot of fun doing it!

Peace Litany

When I was a student at Providence College, Remembrance Day became -- for one year -- a highly contentious issue in the student body.

A great deal of the population of southern Manitoba is Mennonite (or some variant within the Anabaptist tradition), and not surprisingly, a significant number of the students at Prov, despite its non-denominational focus, were from that background.

One year, there was a very vocal group that announced publicly, loudly, and repeatedly that if a moment of silence was observed during chapel on November 11, they would walk out in protest because that would be glorifying and condoning war -- for those unfamiliar with Anabaptists, pacifism is a huge part of the Mennonite expression of the faith.

I was really intrigued to see how this would play out, since David McAlpine, my great-grandfather, had died while serving as an anti-aircraft gunner in France during the First World war, from which the November 11th Remembrance Day tradition stems.

The disgruntled students all eagerly sat in the first several rows in the chapel, I guess to make their exit as public and "in your face" as possible. I sat in the front row of the balcony, where I could have the best view of whatever might transpire.

That particular morning, one of the more popular professors was our chapel speaker, and he showed up in (GASP!) his formal United States Marines uniform, complete with his Purple Heart medal.

At eleven o'clock, you could feel the tension mounting, as the protesting students edged to the front of their seats, just waiting for the professor to announce the moment of silence. I can only imagine what must have gone through their minds when the professor stood at attention, removed his Marine cap and placed it under his arm, and solemnly said:

"We will now observe a minute of silence, in honour of those who died to protect your right to be conscientious objectors."

There was a long moment of silence. Nobody moved. Nobody stormed out in protest. And I was among many who appreciated the wisdom of the professor, who demonstrated that a gentle answer does indeed turn away wrath (Psalm 15:1).

---

This morning at our offices, we met to read together the "Peace Litany", which included the following prayers:

We grieve, O Lord, along with the relatives of those who gave of their lives in conflict, and are grateful for their sacrifice on our behalf.

We grieve, O Lord, at the violence in our community and in the world: between the powerful and the defenseless, rich and poor, men and women, adults and children.

We grieve, O Lord, for the indigenous peoples of our country and of all lands who suffer because of the dominance of another race and culture, who suffer intolerance and prejudice, violence and fear.

We grieve, O Lord, for the broken relationships between men and women, neighbour and neighbour, between faiths and religions, governments and the people.

You are the light of the world, O Lord. Give us courage to be Your light, to be Your hope, to work for peace and justice.

Amen.

Apologies...

...to those who have been visiting my blog, hoping to get an update on what's happening with my health, and noticing that I haven't updated for what seems like forever! (Thanks, Sue & Harv, for phoning to check on me and chastize my blogging habits!)

The tests on October 27 went well (meaning they didn't stop me half-way through and set off alarms of some kind) but I won't have the results until November 18. Which I interpret to mean that I'm not on death's door just yet. My mother gave me some great tips on dealing with hyglycemia, which was the initial diagnosis until some later tests shows "something we'd like to check on...". My mom has hypoglycemia as well, and I've been treating myself as if that is indeed what I have, and I seem to be fairly healthy since then. The tests will either prove that initial diagnosis, or they'll show if there's something else wrong and we'll go from there. I'm still on beta-blockers to slow my heart rate down, blood-thinners, and I'm still carrying around the nitroglycerin until they tell me to stop (thankfully, there's been no need to use it!).

In the meantime, I'm doing life as normal, except that I've been off coffee since mid-October and have had one (1) beer during that interim (suffering, yes). I've been to Ottawa, London, and Toronto on speaking engagements, and I'm teaching next week on "Postmodernism & the Emerging Church" at Tyndale Seminary in Toronto, before heading to Peterborough for the following weekend to speak there.

So, keeping busy with my new job, trying to stay healthy in my diet and sleep habits, and waiting on test results in a few weeks. And, yes, if you look below this entry, you'll find a new post -- I'm back on the blogging wagon!

Thanks, everyone, for your concern and prayers.

Sacred Space

We have long been advocates of a high model of participation in our worship gatherings. When we lived in Los Angeles (Spanish for "Lots of Ants"), my weekly visits to the Venice Beach Drum Circle only served to intensify my desire to see worship gatherings become more participatory and less spectator-oriented.

We have long used what we call "Worship Jams" as part of our ministry -- they're akin to the Worship Circle idea that people like Ben & Robin Pasley have pioneered (and I highly recommend their music as being ideal for creating "Jams"). Basically, a Worship Jam is where there are multiple worship leaders, as many instruments as people can bring (and hopefully play), lots of food (brought by the participants), space for art and dance, and the understanding that there is no set program once the Jam gets under way.

It's always been a challenging and exciting time of learning to listen to each other and the Holy Spirit, and to make space for different peoples' gifts to come to the fore. Because we had no set lists or "who's turn to lead next", it truly was a growing exercise of learning how to relax, back off, and let the Spirit lead -- although to be historically accurate, there are the occasional train wrecks along the way, but that's what "learning" usually includes! We found that if we were willing to make the kind of space where mistakes weren't seen as devastating, then risks could be taken more easily.

At times, we've had five or six guitars, six or more djembes, a keyboard, bass guitar, a mandolin, a saxophone, lots of singing voices, a digeridoo, some dancers, painters, and a six-foot-four, 240-pound Reader of Scripture (when he reads, people listen!).

The Reader of Scripture was named Logan; a Native American man who quickly became one of our closest friends in L.A., Logan came from a Church of Christ background, and had a profound love for reading the Bible. During our Jams, Logan would stand up during a song, and all the musicians would quiet down somewhat, and Logan would simply read a passage from the Bible that he felt God wanted him to read. It was great to see the diversity that the Spirit had gifted people with.

On the night which will forever be my favourite Jam when we were in L.A., Logan asked me beforehand if he could be in charge of the Jam (considering he doesn't sing or play an instrument, I wondered what he was up to), and I said, "Sure, I trust you." What Logan did was simple, yet extremely profound. As people arrived at our house, food and instruments in hand, Logan greeted each person at the door and informed them that our living room was "out of bounds" for anything but prayer, until the worship part of the Jam began. People were free to hang out and party in the kitchen and other areas, but the living room (a converted two-car garage) was "Sacred Space". Logan had worship CD's playing in there, and only prayer was allowed.

People at first had looks of "okay, dude, whatever..." on their faces, but then something very cool started happening. People began leaving the party, and actually entering the living room to pray. At one point, there were about a dozen people at a time in there, kneeling, sitting, squatting on the floor, praying quietly (the group's age demographic went from 14 to late-30's).

Once we finally "opened" the room for the Jam to begin, we were treated to one of the most dynamic and Spirit-led times of worship we had yet enjoyed as a group -- singing, playing, dancing, painting...

And Logan, standing up by the fireplace, reading from the Bible.

Sacred Space.