Evangelism: Not Ashamed...

These really are random thoughts about evangelism.

This week I keep reading s#*% about stupid churches who exclude people or say ridiculous things. Michelle Bachmann announced the end of the world according to her Bible...even though Jesus clearly says we will never be able to figure out the time. I even heard someone say they would ground their exclusive anti-gay position on the "words Jesus said" about homosexuality being a sin...not the Bible I am reading. The only position Jesus took regarding marriage was anti-divorce.

So, it's understandable that the run-of-the-mill-Joe or Jane thinks spirituality is better than religion.

It's hard not to duck our heads and head for cover when stupidity trumps real church. And it always does in the public forum. Our little congregation who practices helping each other find and celebrate hope, experience belonging, extend and receive forgiveness, and discover a sense of purpose and direction is pretty boring in media standards. (BTW, the list of "real church" characteristics is in a great book you can explore with this link.) Not much excitement when people fight, then forgive each other. Not much controversy to err on the side of acceptance and inclusion. Gotta have a conflict if you want a good story. Hope, peace, belonging...they just don't sell.

Culture is teaching us that Real Housewives is real and congregational life (of any stripe) is fantasy.

It's time for us to know better and to say so.

In New York Magazine this week there is an article titled Why Kids Need Spirituality.  It is definitely worth a read. But the point is the same one made by conservative, David Brooks. We can never develop our own morality from scratch. It is too complicated, too extensive, and we are too influenced by our surroundings.

I, for one, think that youth nurtured by a community of faith (especially a community grounded in God's grace and nurture and not concerned with judgment and exclusion) is a far healthier place, a far more hopeful place, a far better place and practice than TV, movies, or video games.

I think if we throw out the word "believe" and use the better biblical translation of "trust" then this might make more sense. We trust in Jesus and his way of living and being in the world. We trust that God is reconciling and transforming the world. We trust that the community of people gathered as "church" is invited to participate in God's work and that we, with the Spirit's support, can make a difference.

It's not about perfection. It's about trying. And I wonder if the first step toward spreading the good news of the gospel is not to be ashamed.

We've been given a great gift. We cannot be silent about its value...or about the fact that the gift is offered to all people.

Evangelism: What's the Point?

As I write this, I'm watching a clip from The Daily Show where two pastors, one young and mightily hip and one youngish and straighter-laced, are arguing about the future of Christianity. Naturally, the weird Presbyterian they found thinks robots are the future of Christianity. I never know how much people play to the camera and how much of what they say they really believe. I'm sure the Presbyterian pastor bumps up his "cool"factor just by being on The Daily Show.

They were both interesting perspectives. The young cool guy is packing the pews...but I an telling you, that is not for everyone. Not even close. And...while the services may be really fun and interesting, I am curious the walk between services...which is really what this discipleship thing is all about.

Now that I've shown my own geek colors...here's the point. The good-citizen Christianity of the 50's and 60's and perhaps 70's is gone. It should be. We don't do this Christian thing to get a good job or be respected in the community. We don't do it to show another country that we are better than they are because we believe in God. In fact, what does "believe in God" even mean?

Being a church member is no longer a social necessity. Frankly, I think that's a good thing. It puts us squarely in the hot seat to live our faith, to be able to articulate it to others, to understand and speak why the way of Christianity is a better way.

Can you do that? I'm getting better at it, but I've been thinking about it for awhile. To answer a question of why someone would want to "come to church" with you. "So you can be saved" simply makes no sense to today's world.

What makes sense? How do we have the conversation? Why do we do this membership thing? What, besides heaven after we die, is the point?

The PC(USA) has started its constitution with a great statement of our purpose. Here's an evangelism thought to chew on:

The good news of the Gospel is that the triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit— creates, redeems, sustains, rules, and transforms all things and all people.

It's really more than a thought...it's a challenge. How might a conversation go with a co-worker or new neighbor if this was our foundation for asking them to come and worship with us? Play it out in your head. Try and memorize the sentence. Put it on a notecard in your car, read it before you start driving, and then think about who you might be called to invite, and how a conversation might go based on that foundation.

If you really want to get serious, practice with a friend. Be tough with each other...then help each other construct "good news" answers.

And let me know how it goes...what questions or challenges can you not answer? Where does the conversation break down?

Living as Easter People...

We celebrated.

What next?

I thought a great deal during our Easter celebration about how we invite, welcome, and interpret our faith to those who don't understand what on earth (or in heaven!) we are doing. So for awhile, I'm going to explore the idea of--gasp--evangelism. I'll post once or twice a week and I invite feedback for the ideas put forth...or with questions...or ideas I haven't considered.

My daughter marries on Sunday. I'll get back to church thinking next week....

Radical Hospitality...Easter!

I live an insignificant life by most standards. I don't make international treaties that halt nuclear proliferation. I don't do operations that save lives. I don't write important books or make laws that change the course of history.

But today is Easter...

I know this is true. I am a beloved child of God. I do nothing to earn this grace. I do nothing to keep it. It is radical hospitality at its core. Each of us, as we are, are beloved children of God. We may not even know that as reality. But it is a reality that cannot be changed. God has claimed each human being in history, knows our name, and loves us as God's own.

Today is Easter...

Today is enacted reality. This reality is so strong, people who struggle to connect with it otherwise are pulled toward Easter worship. The reality is so strong that the world takes it and turns it into shopping madness so that we forget to pay attention to the life-changing, world-changing love that would cut their profit and turn us away from the racks and back toward each other.

Where my life and God's love intersect, there is meaning. There is goodness. There is hope. I don't care about getting to heaven in the end, I need Easter reality in the here and now.

Today is Easter...

Easter names the miracle.We are beloved children of God. We see how it looks when it is played out in the life of Jesus. He made no international treaties. He did no operations. He wrote no books. He made no laws. He died a criminal. But he lived a child of God. And he changed history.

Humans have twisted the message, and I know you can argue the harm done in the name of "religion." But the reality of Easter is stronger. The hope of Easter is stronger. The promise of Easter is stronger.

Ultimately, love-God-love-your-neighbor will be stronger. Until then, I will live the promise, be radically hospitable even when the neighbors disapprove, and know that my significance lies in the unchangeable love that changes the world everyday.

Today is Easter!!!!

Radical Hospitality...Silence

Holy Saturday is a silent day. Ours won't be. The world rumbles and rattles on with no awareness of lives in the darkness of a tomb. Advertisers insistently hawk their products, sure that anything from soap to sugar will solve our problems. Chores must be done, especially if you live in High Point and the furniture market chases Easter like a cat on a June bug.

The noisy chaos of our lives surrounds us and cuts off our life source. It's tricky, because it is so loud and demanding, we think this is life. But we know death is there. We avoid quietness because that's when we feel the darkness, that's when we can't ignore the parts of our life that are unsettled.

The busyness and noise don't bring life. The silence of the tomb reigns.

We know death doesn't win in the Easter story. We are ready...or getting ready...for tomorrow. But for all of us there are issues, events, struggles that put us in the quiet of the tomb. We wait for a resolution. We wait for a solution. We wait for healing.

We wait.

Radical Hospitality...Ultimate

Good Friday.

I wonder how many of us spend any time considering the day. How many of us think about all the ways we kill off God's radical hospitality one person at a time.
dirty
lazy
Democrat
Republican
young
old
poor
GLTBQ
female
male
black
hispanic
white
fundamentalist
Christian
Muslim
Jew

I could do this for a while.

Today, in history, we killed Jesus. I'm not big on atonement theories. Not convinced that God "sent Jesus to die." Convinced that God came as Jesus to show us the possibilities of living in God's radical hospitality. The more we had to lose to include others, the less we liked the change.

I use "we" intentionally. I like my comfortable American lifestyle. I think we can do better. I work to the best of my ability to see that happen...well, the best of my comfortable ability. This day of all days is one I hate. It holds up my failures in ways I cannot escape.

I hammer the nails. Sometimes I make choices knowing they are not good. Sometimes I don't know how to stop the hammering. Sometimes I hammer without knowing I am hurting others.

The good news of the day is that God makes a way out for all of us. Life is stronger than death. Hope stronger than despair.

But today is pretty inescapable. I am as much a part of the problem as those who hammered nails into that cross. If we don't admit who we are today, then we can't recognize the depth of the ultimate hospitality God will show.

Lord have mercy....

Radical Hospitality...Room

I worked in the yard yesterday. Believe it or not, I loved leaves in Nebraska. They fell in the fall and they were beautiful and then they went away.

Leaves in a North Carolina year drop from the fall to the time the oak pollen finally gives way to the new leaf. Major wind storms, ice, snow...they all do their best to dislodge those clingy, brown appendages. They fail. These leaves fall when they are ready. As soon as you rake a bed. The night before you are scheduled to lay pine straw. It's the stuff of nightmares.

But I digress. The hospitality point was making room for spring. The classic image is getting rid of the old and planting new. That's not really how it works. You prune. Old becomes new as it is repurposed into compost or gets a new pairing of annuals. But you have to work it. When neglected, hings quickly lose their shape, their ability to serve their purpose, or their beauty.

Hospitality means making some room. The leaves pretty quickly cover all potential and seem like they will never go away. The art is not to be convinced by what's on the surface of your life that there is no room for other, for different.

It's a never ending job.

I think it is more rewarding than these stupid leaves.

Radical Hospitality...Assumptions

I was schooled by a six year old Sunday morning. Honestly, I'm not sure what the lesson is...I know it's something about making assumptions, but I'm going to have to live with this one awhile.

We took them to get breakfast for a fifth Sunday celebration. On the way, he's telling me about watching basketball. I ask if he plays basketball. He says no. The black team, he tells me, wins everything all the time, so he doesn't play any more.

Being a child who remembers the changes instituted from the Civil Rights movement, I say to him, "Well, I bet it's not about the color, but about how hard they work and how much they practice."

"Oh, yeah," he replies (leaving all his "r's" at home for safe-keeping). "They work hard. But it's true that when you saw those black jerseys, you knew you would lose."

By the time I could breathe again, we were at the restaurant.

We should all have those eyes...