NOT a Zero-Sum Game

From Chris Marshall:

Ordinary Community: Being Ready
It is the sense of entitlement that I am speaking against when it comes to vocational roles in ministry. I am not against the idea of being paid, I am against the assumption that its the way it always has been and always will be. God does not owe us anything! Not a job, not a title of honor, not an air-conditioned office nor full time hours a week to be a spiritual leader. Now his provision may [embody] all of that for you, but we have to be okay if it doesn’t.

I think this is so important.  This weekend, as I reflected on this issue, I found myself being often drawn back to the idea that this thing (the transition, the economics of what it means to be the people of God in the early 21C) is NOT a Zero-Sum Game. “In game theory and economic theory, zero-sum describes a situation in which a participant’s gain or loss is exactly balanced by the losses or gains of the other participant(s).”

This is not about one “model” of church being more “right” than the other.  It is not even about being more biblical, though I think that is an intriguing question.  It is about the Kingdom of God continuing to break in and how we are going to respond.  It is not about older, traditional church folks losing and young, hip, emerging Jesus-followers winning.  That is NOT the point.  It is about the Mission of God in our time and place.  It has always been about God’s Mission, we’ve just tended toward co-opting it to our own ends (and I’m as guilty as anyone on that matter).

I had a couple offline (i.e. real life!) conversations this weekend with 2 friends (Russell and Bethany) who read my (and others’) post about this topic.  A prevailing concern was that of older, traditional church and the older, traditional adults in them.  Does this move to a new form of ministry and church leave them in the dust?  What about inter- and multi-generational ministry?  What about all those presently paid clergy and staff, are they all doing it “wrong”?  Again, I don’t think this is a Zero-Sum Game.  Transition times are inherently liminal spaces and as a society (and as a global church) we’ll surely have a period of both/and-ness.  We’ll have traditional, institutional expressions of church who are honestly and sincerely seeking to follow in the Way of Jesus… right along side organic, emerging, experimental communities of faith also seeking to follow in the Way of Jesus.  We’ll have paid clergy who instigate Kingdom work partnering with bi-occupational pastors and missional leaders (Russell Smith is a great example of this!).

I think one of the points of this whole conversation is that many see that this transition is coming (and has in significant ways already arrived).  These deep cultural shifts aren’t going away.  The church has always and will continue to adapt to the cultural situation in which it finds itself.  My take on these (blog) writings of church leaders from around the country is that we’re seeing similar adaptations across the USofA.  These adaptations look less and less like the churches of our parents and grandparents (not necessarily less and less like Jesus - though every experiment will have the errant petri dish…).

So, during this transitional time we may have to work extra hard to facilitate inter-generational ministries.  We are by our nature cultural beings who feel most comfortable in what is familiar to us.  But, and I think this point is very important, we are not bound by our culture.  We have the ability to cross cultures and even be countercultural.  As a church our main identifier should never be the comfy cultural confines of me and mine.  This is equally pertinent for the postmodern-embedded college student and the retirement-home octogenarian - both (and all of us in between) must seek first the Kingdom.  We find our common cause in the cause of Christ.  Of course we’ll have disagreements and points of contention, but that is important too for the refining process.  Our unity is in Christ.  Working out the way we live as a people of God in a particular place and culture… well that takes time and an openness to the Spirit that cannot happen if we are tight-fisted about our way (which we always think is the “right way”) of doing things.

Mark Van Steenwyk’s comment on his blog in this conversation is helpful in this strain.  In response to what traditional (local churches, denominations, seminaries) churches can do, he says…

You can be helpful by doing what you’re doing…leveraging what resources you have at your disposal to think with a kingdom mindset, rather than with an Institutional one.

At some point, all of us tied into the status quo need to make a choice. We have to choose whether it is better to work hard to secure what we have…or work hard to secure the future. In other words, are we going to leverage everything to try to make sure that the Mennonite Church USA and Canada have a place in the future? Are we going to leverage everything to try to make sure Bethel Seminary and Mars Hill Grad school have a place in the future? OR are we going to leverage everything that MCUSA and MC Canda and Bethel and Mars Hill has to advance the kingdom where we see it breaking in, with a lesser concern for the role they will keep for themselves in that inbreaking future?

To say it another way: Maybe our educational institutions shouldn’t ask how they can survive the transition. Maybe they should ask, how can we risk our resources on our students so that they can thrive in the transition? Clearly there is a tension here. It doesn’t need to be an either/or. But the way most institution are operating (from the lofty philosophical level to the banal logistical level), I am seeing a stronger desire to maintain market share…to survive…than a desire to help create the necessary future.

The distribution and use of resources is a HUGE issue with all this.  Who has what resources and how are they being used is an important part of the process of how any ministry works.  It also says a lot about our lived theology and priorities… follow the money.  Figuring out how to leverage resources (money, time, property, etc…) for the Kingdom is essential.

May the Kingdom Come…

How then shall we live

So, there’s a bit of a conversation afoot.  The Reverend Marshall started it off with this post, Brother Evans elucidated in response, The Bishop pondered prophetically(?), Co-Conspirator Steve used the “E” word (as in “Empire”, of course), and Marshall expanded his thinking thusly.

Which brings me to my own mental wanderings on the topic.  How then shall we live?  For me this question assumes a few things (which, I submit, that you - dear faithful blog reader - may or may not agree) …

1)  the present way in which we “do ministry” is less and less effective and not sustainable given the increasingly complex, pluralistic, and shifting society in which we live.

2)  the current funding approach for ministry and ministers is beholden to a system that is built on a modernism (industrial, mechanistic, “cog in the wheel”) that is increasingly non-functional or a postmodernism that is highly consumerist (”what have you done for me lately”, “have it your way”).

3)  the expectations placed (internally or externally) on leaders is often unhealthy in the current system (whether that system is accommodated primarily to modern or postmodern sensibilities).

If I am correct in these assumption (and I may not be) then I am caused to wonder if perhaps God is leading some into a new mode of ministry.  A ministry that is born out of a relationship and Relationship rather than a program established in order to produce relationships (human or divine).  Certainly such a ministry would be more sustainable in the long run, because you already have the final product of the ministry - the relationship - when you begin.

Nurturing, fostering, tending that relationship would of course require transformation (no relationship with God involved could do otherwise), but it would not intend for something wholly different to result in the offing.  In other words, a program initiated (either one based on one’s “felt-needs” or a theological maxim) in order to draw one into relationship with fellow humans or with Christ is only successful if a relationship is the result.  But the input into such a program is not “relationship” (or at least not necessarily) it is “method”, this “method” may or may not result in “relationship”.  If it does not have the intended resultant relational outcome then we call it a failure, or we say that God is not “blessing it”, or that we’ve done something wrong, or that “those people” don’t get it and they are wrong.  I don’t know of any ministry that isn’t intending some relational outcome (divine or human).  That “relational outcome” may be defined as - people in the seats, decisions for Christ, baptisms, confirmations, leaders in committee positions, percent in small groups, number of people serving “in ministry”, etc….  The problem with beginning with something other than relationship is that you often end up with only more or less of that with which you started.  So if you begin with the intent to start really great programs (so that people would know Jesus or love others) you may only end up with a lot more programs - and a bunch of people that may or may not actually know Jesus or love others.

What if ministry was defined as beginning and ending with the relationships that already exist in our lives?  Of course, we would begin new relationships - some intentionally so - but they are not a means to an end.  We take on the role of friend as opposed to director, parent or mentor as opposed to expert, brother or sister as opposed to business partner.

Such a ministry would necessitate a different understanding of finances.  Since the intent is not to build a mechanism by which to get Jesus (or get people to Jesus) or a commercial by which to promote Jesus, then we are freed to use our funds for community growth and development.  By which, I mean, of course - “Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven”.  The growth and development of the community of faith blessing and serving the world is an inherently relational project.  However that community of faith is by its very nature bound by the laws of relationship (i.e. knowing and being know).  The result being that the need for managers and administrators for that community is decreased.  Whether or not it is decreased to the point of zero may be open to debate, but it is at least decreased to a sustainable number.  By “sustainable”, I mean something that the community can support for a long, long period of time.  Note I didn’t say anything about leaders - I’m pretty sure that is a whole different issue all together.  The point I’m attempting, probably unsuccessfully, to make is that money IS important within the life of a community of faith.  It is important how we spend our money, how we serve with our money, how we save our money - in sum, how we steward our money.  And not 10% of our money with which we pay our obligatory membership dues - no, 100% of our money, which really isn’t ours but belongs to Jesus just like the rest of our lives.

So, the money issue is truly a discipleship issue.  And it becomes more than about how we pay (or if we pay) a pastor.  How does the life of our community get financed by the resources (consumer credit is not a resource) of our community?

Lastly, the assumed expectations we have for leaders moves from providers of “spiritual goods and services” (thank you, GOCN) or programmers or constructionists.  As leaders we move into the role of spiritual parentage.  Or, to use another metaphor, we become gardeners in the plot of God (get it, double entendre…).  Maybe we’re sowing, watering, or reaping (thanks, Paul) - God does the growing bit.  Our role moves from one of control to openness and stewardship.  A steward doesn’t hold on to things tightly because she knows it doesn’t ultimately belong to her anyway - she will care for it, tend it, nurture it, and release it when the time is right and the owner calls.  As such, the expectations we place on ourselves and our leaders moves from one of demanding success as a matter of course to a relational accounting of faithfulness.

I’ve surely gone on way too long.  But I am compelled to say that this is not mere idealistic theory bubbling in my brain (at least I hope not).  This has real, lived implications for how Sarah and I are choosing to live.

One of the prevailing themes of this blog has been our discernment process on planting a church.  Sarah and I finally had some time to chat about such things last week (part of the problem - but that’s another conversation, though a related one).  We feel like we’ve gained a bit of clarity on the matter.

The long and short of it is this:

- I continue to believe that God is up to something in Cincinnati and in Pleasant Ridge (our neighborhood) specifically.

- I continue to believe that whenever God is up to something (i.e. the Kingdom is breaking out and in) that God will form a people, a community, a church (1 Peter 2:10).  And I believe that something like that is/will form in Pleasant Ridge.

- What I’m growing to believe (or what is growing within me) is the conviction that starting a thing (a church) is not my job.  It might be somebody’s job somewhere (I’m not making an absolute statement), but for our present context and the mission to which God is calling our family, I’m convinced that we are to tend and attend to the relationships we are cultivating.  I would not at all be surprised if a church forms in the process, but the intent is Kingdom-mission.  In other words, we don’t have a mission to plant a church so that the church can have a mission, rather we are part of God’s Kingdom mission (missio dei) that births communities of mission.  The financial off-shoot of this is that we are not bound by our amount or mode of income.  We don’t have to do fund-raising for this ministry.  We already have what we need.

For me, this last point has been terribly liberating and terribly unsettling (funny how those 2 go together).  It is freeing to step back from the producer mentality and pressure of thinking it is my job to “make something happen”.  But it is unnerving to consider the sacrifice and unknowing-ness that this implies.  What does it imply?  For me it implies not being noticed as “legitimate” in the world’s eyes, being small and seemingly insignificant, being slow and painful (because we’re dealing with real people and real life), and being tossed into uncharted waters.

Ok, enough already!  Comment as you see fit.

The Message of Suffering and Help - Jesus was thirsty

Good Friday
March 21, 2008
Covenant-First Presbyterian Church
1:45-2:10

“After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.” A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth.”

- John 19:28-29

Surely Winston Churchill’s oft quoted phrase applies to this scripture, “It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key.” Perhaps there is a key. And perhaps we can uncover a bit of that today.

Brothers and Sisters in Christ gathered on this Good Friday of 2008, I want to speak a great truth to you - Jesus was thirsty. I know, you were expecting more, surely there are more profound things being said today. “Jesus was thirsty” Hopefully though, the simplicity of the statement won’t undermine the depth of the intent. First we must examine the parameters of this text, then we can ponder Jesus’ thirst in the appropriate context.

Let’s examine some questions…

What was “now finished”?

- In John 17:4 Jesus prays “I brought glory to you here on earth by doing everything you told me to do. And now, Father, bring me into the glory we shared before the world began”. That mission is now complete. He has completed his divine agenda. The Father has been glorified in his acceptance of the cross.

What Scripture was fulfilled?

- Of this there is much ambiguity. There is no clear indication which scripture the gospel writer is referring. However, the most compelling connection can be draw to Psalm 69 - a psalm the writer John refers to on several other occasions.

“They gave me poison for food, and for my thirst they gave me sour wine to drink.”

- Psalm 69:21

To this it begs the most interesting question:

Why would Jesus say, and even more, why would John specifically record, “I thirst”? Given the whole cacophony of physical ailments that Jesus had at the moment why would he focus exclusively on his thirst? I must admit it seems almost comical! It’s as if Jesus looks down from the cross and says, “I seemed to have skinned my knee when I fell back there. Would you happen to have a Band-Aid handy?”

If Jesus knew he was about to die, if he was further convinced that his mission was completed why would he be concerned about feeling parched?

** update (3/24/0 - after an enlightening conversation with my neighbor and friend Ben (who happens to be a doctor), I stand corrected - one of the experiences of a dying person is an acute feeling of thirst.  So, that makes sense (now) from a medical “this guy is dying” point of view, what I continue to find intriguing - and it works with my line of reasoning - is why would John the gospel writer include it and what does it have to do with fulfilling scripture.  What is his driving concern, beyond telling a true story, what is he evoking from us as readers? ** 

Was a sponge of sour wine helpful or slap in the face? Some have suggested that the sour wine of vinegar would have acted like a stimulate giving Jesus the stamina to cry out “It is finished” in the proceeding passage. Others have viewed the giving of sour wine as pour substitute to nourishment, a slap in the face of a dying Christ.

Was the hyssop branch a subtle reference to the Exodus story where the Hebrew slaves are instructed to use hyssop branches to paint their door frames with the Passover lamb’s blood?

And so we return to our Great Truth - Jesus was thirsty.

Perhaps John is drawing us as a readers to earlier in the narrative when Jesus speaks of drinking his blood (John 6) or when he tells the Samaritan woman that he would give Living Water (John 4) or even when he turned water to wine at a wedding in Cana (John 2). Jesus seems to be dealing with liquid and thirst throughout the Gospel of John. But in all those other instances, Jesus was the one offering the drink and quenching the thirst. Here we find Jesus himself thirsty.

What are we to do with this oddity? I believe Psalm 69 gives us a clue. Perhaps it is even the key to unraveling this mystery….

In Psalm 69 - to which John refers several times - we find a righteous person being mocked and humiliated by enemies. (vv. 19ff) Into this dilemma God shows up as Divine Rescuer. In this context we see Jesus as the Suffering Servant, in submission to the will of the Father. This is not the Nietzschean super-man. His life is lived - and he dies - in accordance to the Father’s design.

This is not the Gnostic envisage of Christ - the disconnected spiritual being who eschews the material world. No, this is Jesus who suffers. He shares our pain, our weakness, our humiliation. This is Jesus who receives an unjust sentence, an unfair accusation. This is a Jesus who bleeds, who falls, who needs help carrying the cross. This is a Jesus who thirsts.

Jesus was thirsty.

And by his stripes we are healed.

Jesus was thirsty.

And we receive him as a drink offering poured out for many.

Jesus was thirsty.

And he is for us living water by which we will never thirst again.

More thoughts on Immersion

Below is a diagram of the four realms of experience, taken from an unlikely source*. Though I am not fond of the term “escapist” this is the quadrant that I perceive our Stations engaging. We (all who go through the stations) should be active participants - not mere observers. There should be some kind of engagement, physically, emotionally and spiritually. As opposed to Entertainment or Education, we are not attempting to get the worshipper to necessarily “ingest” some bit of information. Rather than reducing the “meaning” of a station or the stations to a few bite-sized morsels the meanings of the experience will be intentionally like taking a drink from a fire hydrant.

There will be layers upon layers of meanings and messages, not all of them (or any of them) tied up neatly for “taking home”. Certainly, we hope that persons come away from this experienced changed and that that will likely mean that they “got something out of it”, but this will be a by-product of the experience. In fact, in many ways this experience - the Stations - stand alone as a sacramental event. They have the potential of being an outward sign of an inward and spiritual grace (Thank you, John Wesley). The Stations exist not so that we can get something out of them, but so that we can put ourselves into them.

Hopefully, we won’t escape from something (our lives, our families, our communities) as much as we will escape into the sufferings of Christ. We will actively engage our own suffering and (even more?) actively engage in the world’s suffering.

We will be embraced into Christ’s reality - a kingdom realm - and in this way we will be transformed. Perhaps we will even be converted. Converted - changed - both to Christ and for the world. We will find life through the death. Resurrection is not merely a future reality; it is a present expectation of the kingdom breaking in. As much of Christ calls us away and unto himself, he likewise calls us into the world - to a solidarity with those on the margins. But these things are not up to us (we who would be so bold as to attempt these Stations), it is the Spirit who moves and who does the changing. We can only be faithful to his work within us - not passively, but with active anticipation of the change that he is doing in us. As we do this we will be privileged to witness his work within one another as well. This is what the Stations are - an opportunity to observe the Spirit’s working.

This may also be why the Stations make such a good setting for this kind of Holy Spirit work. The muck and the mire of our lives are laid bare as we identify with Jesus’ suffering. It is in the compost of our souls, the pain, the hurt, and the wounds that we see the Spirit active. It is in our brokenness that we can become whole.

Big Long Quote on Immersion

“The experience of being transported to an elaborately simulated place is pleasurable in itself, regardless of the fantasy content. We refer to this experience as immersion. Immersion is a metaphorical term derived from the physical experience of being submerged in water. We seek the same feeling from a psychologically immersive experience that we do from a plunge in the ocean or swimming pool: the sensation of being surrounded by a completely other reality, as different as water is from air, that takes over all of our attention, our whole perceptual apparatus. We enjoy the movement out of our familiar world, the feeling of alertness that comes from being in this new place, and the delight that comes from learning to move within it. Immersion can entail a mere flooding of the mind with sensation, the over flow of sensory stimulation experienced in the televisor parlor in Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Many people listen to music in this way, as a pleasurable drowning of the verbal parts of the brain. But in a participatory medium, immersion implies learning to swim, to do the thing that the new environment makes possible.” pp.98-99

From - Murray, Janet B. 1998. Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace. The MIT Press.

* Pine, Joseph B. and James H. Gilmore. 1999. The Experience Economy. Harvard Business School Press, Boston, MA. (link)

Wondering about that Jesus character…

All this business about discipleship as apprenticeship to Jesus has caused me to wonder what it really means to follow Jesus in 21st century America (specifically Cincinnati).  I mean he lived 2000 years back, in a vastly different world/context.  So when we read the things he said and did and what he called folks to do as they followed him then I’d say we have a good bit of translation work if we are going to apply that to ourselves.  That much, I suspect, is obvious to most.

It is his talk of the Kingdom of God that fascinates me.  When I read the Gospels now it just leaps out at me, but when I was in high school starting to read the Bible for the first time (seriously, not just as “children’s stories” for Sunday School) I never noticed the Kingdom.  So, how do I translate this Kingdom stuff to 21C Cincinnati?  Well, how do WE translate Jesus’s message about the Kingdom to 21C Cincinnati?  Great question…. let’s live the answer!