Previous Post – Christ (child) the Lord

I have an odd intolerance for certain foods.  I’m not allergic to them, but I’ve also discovered that it more than mere pickiness.  Unfortunately, the foods I am intolerant of are the ones that I most need to be eating for health and nutrition.  While I am working on overcoming this problem, it never fails that someone learns of my eating habits and begins to lovingly lecture me on the necessity of eat better than I do.  I nod patiently as I hear for the umpteenth time the basics of nutrition we all learned in grade school.  Recently, when someone began this lecture, I quickly interrupted them and said: “Oh, I agree!  I’m convinced, just not converted“.

This off-hand turn of phrase has stuck with me ever since.  Let’s briefly look at the terms in question here:

Convinced: To be moved to believe, through logic, argument or evidence, that something is true.

Many Christians, especially in West, have come to faith through being convinced- that is, we have been moved to believe differently about something through a compelling argument, presentation or even relationship.  This ushers us into active relationship with God as we make a choice to identify as His follower.  Growing up, this is what I was taught about what it meant to be converted.  While there is overlap, I think that we have confused being convinced with being converted.

Converted: To be changed from one form, substance or state, to another.

Without question being convince is a significant part of the conversion experience (at least for many).  That being said, we can see by the definition that conversion is far more than simply being convinced- it encompasses and surpassed it.  To be converted is to be transformed- to be changed from one thing to another.  It is holistic and all-encompassing.  The emphasis of rationalism in Western Christianity, while bringing us many gifts, has all too often led us understand belief as primarily (and at times exclusively) as cognitive.  Yes, it demanded change in us, but it was as though we believe that the transformation would occur because of the changed understanding.  In other words, the primary means of conversion was the change of ideas.

True conversion does not occur because of us.  Yes, we participate through our will.  Yes, our minds- that is our understanding and ideas- should be changed as well.  But the source of that change is not the result of anything in us, but instead it is the work of the Holy Spirit.  Further, if Jesus is to be believed, then how we live out this transformation is more important than what we think about it.  The changed mind is a product of the transformed heart, made possible through Christ.  The fruit of that transformation must be made manifest in how we live.

Don’t settle for a changed mind.  Jesus is not someone who had some ideas He wanted us to be convinced by.  Rather, He invited (and invites) us into Himself to experience true and whole transformation to become, together, His Body for His kingdom and His glory.

(To explore what I believe it means to live the fullness of what Christ calls us into, see “The Cost of Community: Jesus, St. Francis & Life in the Kingdom”)

Previous Post – Community, Neither Means Nor End

For more than half of my life I have served (and continue to serve) as a missionary with Youth With A Mission (YWAM), which followed several years of local youth ministry.  I’ve also been serving as the pastor of Little Flowers Community for three years.  While I am unapologetic in my assertion that formal Christian ministry (including programs) should not be a primary focus of time and energy for the church, I believe, without question, in that such ministry (and programs) still do have an important place in the mission of God.  I start with this qualification because I do not want anyone to dismiss this post as yet another anti-program, anti-institutional rant.

With that being said, something has become very clear to me: After two decades of Christian ministry, most meaningful, explicit ministry and evangelism I have ever participated in has been the natural product of genuine relationships that were not the result of any program or agenda.  Again, let me be clear: I am not dismiss the importance of our more “formal” ministry and programs.  Rather, I realize that the most meaningful connections I’ve made with people- connections in which we all explicitly encountered Christ and the gospel- happened through friendships built around the dinner table, at a late movie or hanging out at the park.

While programs can very helpful, I think we Christians too quickly rely on them to bring efficiency and effectiveness to the task we see ourselves having to accomplish.  Many times this motivation is fueled by a genuine sense of urgency and concern for others.  In a conversation about this recently, several friends insisted that their programmed approach reached more people.  When I pointed out (as humbly as possible) that our non-programmed approached seemed to produce far more lives genuine transformed by Christ, they responded:

“Maybe, but with our way, far more people got to hear the gospel.  It’s not up to us to get them to accept it, only to make sure that they hear it.”

This kind of thinking worries me deeply.  For my friends- genuine Christians who love Jesus and passionate about being His witnesses to the world- the responsibility we have been given was to proclaim the gospel as widely and as quickly as possible.  After all, if we don’t, how many will die and end up in eternal suffering?  Again, when I point out that it seemed like most of the people they were witnessing too didn’t respond positively, they seemed unconcerned- that wasn’t their task.  All they were responsible for was sharing the message.

I wonder how many of us would leave uncorrected a situation where our children were being taught by a teacher who shared the facts in a way that give very little consideration to his students ability to really understand.  After all, he was fulfilling the explicit task he was given.  We would demand that he do his job in a way that his students could connect with or we would jump him to the curb.  However, I’m digressing.

My biggest concern with their mentality is that the mission of God somehow becomes so important that people are merely incidental.  Fulfilling our obligation to God becomes of primary importance.  While obedience to God is absolutely important, this kind of “faithfulness” has more to do with looking out for ourselves, making sure we do what we are told and are thus beyond reproach.  Yes, there is concern for others, but is often secondary to our concern for our own holiness.

In this sense, mission becomes an idol.  Or to be more accurate, we make our own commitment to mission (for the sake of our “righteousness”) an idol.  Instead, we must be motivated to mission by our love for God that produces a love for others.  In that sense, the people can never be incidental, no more than my wife can be incidental in my commitment to marriage.  While the commitment to obedience might be motivated by a love of God, we cannot forget how Jesus summed up all the law and the prophets:

“Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’” -Matt. 22:37-40

Yesterday, someone asked me to talk about how Little Flowers Community came to be.  Specifically, they were interested in what the name meant to us.  As I always tell people, there are three core meanings.  First, because of our Franciscan emphasis, it is partially inspired by “The Little Flowers of St. Francis”, a collection of stories about the saints life.  Second, the image of a small flower sprouting through a crack in the concrete represented our hope- to be a small presence of life & beauty in the brokenness of our inner city neighbourhood.  The third reason comes from an analogy we use to explore what it looks like to relate to questions about believing, behaving & belonging.  The following is edited from a previous post:

When wrestling with the challenges of welcome, inclusion, etc., inevitably someone asks the question, “Ok, but where do we draw the line?”

This question all too often leaves me frustrated, as though we were asking the wrong question.  This is not to say that the underlying concern of this question is not important.  I do believe that inclusion and embrace inevitably must have boundaries.  The question, though, is how and where and what is involved in setting those boundaries in place.  All too often we feel we have to start with a line, start with a set of deal-breakers which people have to adhere to (or at least acknowledge) before they can meaningfully belong to the community of faith.  I think this goes against the heart of how Jesus embodied these dynamics.

When asked to explain it another way at the conference, I decided to try and communicate through an analogy.  The following is what I came up with on the spot.  Now, before we start taking this to extremes, I acknowledge that this is an imperfect analogy in many ways, but it provides a simply touchstone (icon, if you will) into the deeper dynamics.  So bear with me.

In Mark 9, when Jesus responds to the man whose son was being tormented by an evil spirit, the man declares, “I do believe; help my unbelief.”  Here we see a person who clearly believes in Christ and His authority to heal his son.  Yet he also acknowledges that he needs to be saved from his unbelief.  To me this is the mustard seed, the seed of belief.  Belief as seed says a great deal- it is a tiny medium of promise and potential.  It holds within it the potential for something far great than itself.  A seed on its own is nothing.  A seed must be planted.

Often it is here that we presume that belief plants itself in our hearts, and while there is an element of truth there, the soil in which seed of belief will sprout new life in Christ.  Like a seed, we must die to our sin-isolated selves before we can spring to new life in Christ.  Here is where the shift in our thinking takes place, because again we are prone to look at our salvation in Christ through purely individualistic terms.  Rather, Jesus has (by the Holy Spirit) made the Church His Body.  Therefore, it is in the soil of belonging in the embrace of true community that the seed of belief can be reborn to new life.  Unless that seed has the life-giving, life-sustaining soil in which to plant, we cannot expect it transform.

As the seed of belief does sprout new life in the soil of belonging, it begins to be shaped DNA inherent in the seed.  It is being raised into the image of the resurrected Christ while also being restored to its intended nature of being created in God’s image.  It spreads its roots in the soil of belonging and sprouts into the world as the flower it was meant to be.  As clumsy as the term might sound, here I call this the flower of behaviour.  The flower acts and grows and reproduces according to its nature (again Christ).  It did not have to behave like a flower into order to belong, but rather it was only able to be a flower after it had been embraced, rooted and nurtured in the context of belonging.

So where are the boundaries?  Unlike seeds and flowers, our free will means that we do make choices that go against the intentions of God, that our behaviour doesn’t reflect the DNA of Christ reborn within us.  However, this understanding teaches us that the for new life to be born, we have to accept a degree of uncertainty when embracing people with “unflowered” belief.  Jesus did not teach us that we need to examine each seed before we plant it, He said we will know the nature of the seed by the nature of the fruit it produces.  This demands that we allow fruit to be produced first.  This is risky.  This is messy.  This is complicated.  It is necessary.

Further, this forces us to realize that the nature and quality of the soil should be one of first and primary concerns.  So often we spend so much time and energy requiring behaviour of people before they can be accepted into our communities.  Rather, we must be looking to the planks in our own eyes (or the weeds, in this case), not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of the delicate seeds of belief that are seeking to take root among us.  Rather than purity-police trying to protect the integrity of what is ours, we need to see it as mothers protecting and nurturing the vulnerable new life within us.  We bear the greater responsibility at this stage.  It is our behaviour that must be held to a high standard.

I cannot help but think of the story of the woman caught in adultery who was brought for Jesus for judgment.  By the letter of the law of Moses this woman had legitimately “crossed the line”.  Her exclusion from the community was so clear that it allowed for absolute exclusion- death.  And yet Jesus does not exclude her- don’t miss how critical that is as a first response- but rather stoops down and begins to draw in the dirt.  Then He turns to the accusers- again addressing the sin of the believers before the sinner- and invites him without sin to cast the first stone, then returns to the dirt.  When He stands up again, He see that He and the woman are alone.  He asks her if no one accuses her, to which she replies that there is no one.  Then Jesus says, “Neither do I condemn you”- Jesus is the only man who could have rightfully condemned her, yet He does not- then says, “Go and sin no more”.  It is here, at the end of this process that Jesus finally address behaviour.  He knows that her behaviour is more likely to be transformed by His loving defense (at His own real risk) and embrace than through fear of the the judgment of the law, legitimate as it may be.

Where do we draw the line?  Sometimes, when I read the story of Jesus and this woman, I imagine that when Jesus stoops down that He was drawing a line in the sand.  He drew a line in the sand between the accusers and the woman.  And He stood on her side of the line.

Where do we draw the line?  Why do we draw the line?

I explore this topic in more detail in my upcoming book, “The Cost of Community: Jesus, St. Francis & Life in the Kingdom” (IVPress/Likewise Books).  Pre-order today!

Previous Post – Family Update

Adopting a three year old from Ethiopia is already an amazing adventure.  Yet it is also a journey filled with genuine challenges and difficulties.  Most are like the challenges facing all parents, while a few are unique to adoption, especially when child comes from so different a culture and context.

Being three, Micah has fully developed his Amharic language speaking skills.  The little chatter box is never without something to say.  As wonderful as this is, his inability to understand everything we say to him often leaves him confused, frustrated and even upset.  Combine that with the logic of a toddler and the “fun” begins.  Even given the fact that I better recognize the barriers and a much higher capacity to understand him than he me, my words don’t always make it through his limited abilities to make sense of the world around him.  While using his own language is helpful, even that doesn’t always bridge the gap.

In the end, actions speak louder than words.  Stroking his hair as he cries at night.  Tickling his belly as we play in the backyard.  Even yanking him to safety as he makes a dangerous lunge off the sidewalk.  He doesn’t always appreciate these non-verbals and sometimes he doesn’t always know what they mean.  However, the loving presence of his parents shape- in joy and discipline- the person he is becoming whether he understands it or not.

I think, perhaps, our experience with God is very similar.  Our own logic and understanding are perfectly clear to us, yet in light of the infinite nature of who God is, we are far more simple than any three year old.  God uses language familiar to us, communicating His loving truth in ways we can start to understand and embrace.  And yet, while not devaluing Scripture in the slightest, even the Bible is hugely limited in its ability express the fullness of our infinite Creator.

Again, actions speak louder than words.  The presence of His Spirit- both in our being and through the community of faith- comforting us in the midst of brokenness and suffering.  Celebrating our lives through new life, hope, peace and goodness.  Even pulling us up short by the conscience when we begin to make choices apart from His greater good and perfect will.  We don’t always appreciate these non-verbal queues and sometimes we don’t even recognize them when they happen.  However, the loving presence of our Father God shape- in both joy and discipline- the people we are meant to be, whether we understand it or not.

And so, if this loving, gracious and long-suffering God extends Himself to us, how much more should we extend to those in the world around us?  While not paternalistically (as only God is our Father), we need to both communicate and demonstrate the Good News in ways that are best understood by our neighbours.  With actions speaking louder than words, we must match the proclamation of the Gospel with the embodiment of the love, grace and patience that is our God.

I know that this is difficult.  Tired from sleepless nights and defiant tantrums by my boy, I can become easily cranky, short and impatient.  If I can become this way with my own child, how much more will I be with strangers who God has entrusted me to loving alongside Him?  And so grace and humility and the loving support of a Spirit-filled community is so necessary.

Thank you, Father God.  I pray that I will be a son worthy of bearing the name Christian.

Previous Post – Urgent Prayer Needed

I was excited to be chosen to be an advanced reviewer for Brian McLaren’s new book “Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words” (HaperOne, March 15, 2011) compliments of TheOoze as part of their Viral Bloggers program.  However, the book arrived only a few days ago just as I was hit with a doozey of a cold & flu.  Needless to say, I won’t be reviewing the whole book before it releases in a couple of days.  However, I did want to share some preliminary thoughts.

I will admit that this is the first McLaren book I have read since “A Generous Orthodoxy”.  After that, his books didn’t seem to capture my attention.  I am not anti-McLaren by any stretch, though I have many points of difference with him.  When I read the direction of this new book, however, I was intrigued (more on that in future reviews).

I am currently a few chapters in and I already feel very conflicted.  On one hand, I am thrilled at the trademark McLaren insight into the process of spiritual growth and maturity, promising some very helpful direction ahead.  On the other hand, the language used when discussing the wider Christian tradition, especially American evangelicalism, seems far less gracious than necessary.  I have very real concerns about the expression of the Church as well (though I would point to “The End of Evangelicalism?” by David Fitch for a critique I resonate with), but I feel that, at times, Brian is overly dismissive and sometimes condescending.  I’m convinced that McLaren is not trying to be provocative for its own sake, so why this tone?

One answer came to me as I considered this: Brian is writing as an evangelist.  That is, he wrote this book with a clear desire to connect with those who have rejected Christ because of the hurtful encounters with the kinds of Christians he seems to be criticizing.  I am not convinced his tone is entirely necessary for him to get his message across, but that intention does soften my concern.  Frankly, that very tone does make the book ideal for several people I know who are seeking something meaningful in their lives, yet deeply skeptical about (even hostile towards) Christians.  Still, it leaves me sad.

That being said, I am hopeful about this book.  I will be posting more about it in the weeks to come.

Please note that I received a free review copy of this book from TheOoze with no expectation of a positive review.

Previous Post – Once Upon A Time In Mystery…

One of the great things about being on Twitter (@missional) is that I get to connect with some amazing, like-minded, like-”hearted” people.  One such person is Wendy McCaig (@WendyMcCaig).  Serving as Executive Director for Embrace Richmond, Wendy has shared life with people in her city who come from all walks of life.  A passion for missional engagement in the inner city, she is a true bridge builder.

Wendy recently released her book “From the Sanctuary to the Streets: How the Dreams of One City’s Homeless Sparked a Faith Revolution That Transformed a Community”.  I was excited to have the chance to ask her about the book and her ministry.  People have been asking to hear from missional practitioners and this is a great example of someone who fits the bill.

______________

Jamie Arpin-Ricci: I read in your bio that you used to be a CPA.  How does someone go from there to being the founder & director of an organization like Embrace Richmond?  Briefly share that journey with us.

Wendy McCaig: I spent almost 10 years as an auditor for what was then a Big 6 accounting firm.  I spent my days in the basements of businesses preparing spreadsheets and reconciling accounts so that I could write audit reports telling the company and regulatory agencies what they already knew.  The reports would go into file cabinets and collect dust.  I don’t think it is hard for most people to understand why I wanted to do something more meaningful with my life.

What I did not realize at the time is just how helpful the analytical skills I learned through that role would be to me in urban ministry. While I never would have imagined the wild ride that landed me working with homeless men and women in the inner city of Richmond, I think every part of my journey contributed to what I do today.  My book chronicles some of the more significant twists and turns.   No one can deny it had nothing to do with me.  It is far too bizarre a path for me to have planned it.

JAR: Why did you decide to write this book?  What do you hope readers will walk away with at the end of it?

WM: I had never really thought seriously about writing a book until I was encouraged to do so by the Valparaiso University Practicing Our Faith team and my editor Ulrike Guthrie.  I received a grant from Valparaiso to write the book, which gave me the motivation I needed.  On my journey from church sanctuary to the streets of inner city Richmond, I met some fascinating people and saw some interesting things.  I choose to weave my personal story together with the stories of more than twenty homeless men and women and individuals who seek to assist them.  Through the process of interviewing, listening, and writing, I discovered how life shapes us and how we shape one another.

My hope is that people will read the story and see how one person’s journey when joined with the vision and dreams of others can transform individual lives, how we do church, and ultimately whole communities. While the book contains a lot of information, I think it is the simplicity of how the story unfolds through small moves of the spirit that makes it powerful.  I did not wake up one day and say, I think I will leave my cushy corporate job and go hang out in the inner city with homeless folks.  It just unfolded little by little.  I pray that after reading the story, people will look for God moving in small subtle ways in their own lives.  It is those small subtle moves that make all the difference over the long haul.

JAR: The vision & mission of Embrace Richmond doesn’t take the typical “serve the poor” approach.  What makes it unique & why is it important for the church to understand & embrace that difference?

WM: Embrace Richmond started because a homeless woman wanted to help others.  It is this “pay it forward” philosophy that is ingrained in everything we do.  We do not go into a community with a plan of how “we” will “help” that community.  Instead, we enter the community looking to see where God is at work.  There are saints in every community who desire to be the hands and feet of Jesus but who lack the support and resources to make those dreams come true.  We simply try to gather those who want to be a blessing to their neighbors and help fuel the dreams God has given them for their community.

It is not big and flashy but slow and subtle moves.  It is amazing how people come alive when they stop believing the lie that they can do nothing and start believing that together with God’s help we can do great things.  When we enter the community we don’t look at all the problems but instead look at what is good in the community.  There are good people with good ideas everywhere.  We simply search for the buried treasure in a part of God’s kingdom where no one would expect to find it.

JAR: Some people feel that, with the busyness of a family, such missional life is not possible.  Yet, you are married and mother to three girls.  How do you make that work?  What wisdom can you share with other couples/parents (or even singles) who are trying to make such commitment “fit” their lives?

WM: In the book I include interviews with my husband and my children.  I have gotten more affirmation from those few pages than from any other part of the book.  My husband sees his role as being my dream releaser.  Without him, I could not help others live their dreams.  He has been incredibly generous with financial resources over the years and sacrifices his time to make sure our girls are well cared for.  We are a team.

My girls, who are now teens, are amazing.  They see the world not through the lens of their suburban neighbors but through the lens of those they encounter in the city and the stories I share with them of a world that is very different than their own.  They recognize that the world is far bigger than their immediate neighborhood and I can’t wait to see what God does with their passion for justice in the world.

I think the key is not to force anything.  Chris felt called to support me and I felt called to the inner city. The girls just grew up with a missional lifestyle so it is natural for them.  We started very small and committed to simply go where ever the spirit led us.  If you are not called and are simply responding to someone else’s demands on your life, it will not work.  This kind of commitment can actually undermine your family relationships if not everyone is on board.  I never demanded that Chris go with me and he never demanded that I not go.  We respected one another’s journey and trusted that God knew better than we did.

JAR: Is there anything exciting in the coming year you are especially excited about?

WM: What I am most excited about is the growing leadership base we see immerging in the public housing complexes where we work.  I see people waking up, coming alive to the possibilities.  Once those communities are fully awakened to the power they have together, I think we will see some amazing things happen.  Of course God never really shows me more than a few steps in front of me but I am very encouraged by what I see.

I am also seeing an increase in not only interest but dedication coming from suburban faith communities.  They are starting to understand it is not about them “helping” the poor, but more about fueling the dreams of the street saints God has preserved in those abandoned places of the kingdom.  That is very exciting.  If we ever get the resources and expertise of the suburban world together with the passion and dreams of the urban saints, I think we will begin to see heaven break through here on earth.  I am extremely optimistic about this coming year.

JAR: Tell us something odd or quirky about yourself we would otherwise never know.

WM: I have a very high pitched voice.  I loved the band Missing Person’s in High School because I could sing along without lowering my voice.  In preaching class my professor suggested I take voice lessons.  He said that people are accustomed to listening to men and that my voice is just too much of a jump for them.  I have to be very intentional when I talk on voice mail systems because they often think I am a fax machine.  In my speaking engagements I work hard to speak slow and low but don’t get me excited or I might burst year ear drums!  I have lots of quirky odd things I could share but this is the least embarrassing.

JAR: Thanks Wendy.

Buy a copy of “From the Sanctuary to the Streets” today.

]]> http://www.missional.ca/2010/12/sanctuary-to-streets/feed/ 3 http://www.missional.ca/2010/12/mystery/ http://www.missional.ca/2010/12/mystery/#comments Tue, 07 Dec 2010 04:49:13 +0000 Jamie http://www.missional.ca/?p=1196

Previous Post – Chiara House Update #2

Over 4 years ago I wrote the following short story.  I’ve cleaned it up a bit and reposted, as it was brought to mind while teaching last week.  I hope you enjoy it!

Once upon a time in the land of Mystery there lived a people who had forgotten the light. The entire kingdom existed in perpetual darkness, but the people of Mystery had long ago learned to live without any light. While they could not travel far, avoiding unfamiliar landscapes, they were able to move about quite confidently close to home. Content, the people of Mystery went about their simple lives.

One day, a rumour started to spread among the people.  Someone had found the light!  Wanting to see this wonder for themselves, the people of Mystery began to rush to the site. Even while still miles away, their breath was stolen from them as they caught sight of the flickering of the fire. Soon all had gathered around the warm blaze of the dancing flames and for the first time began to see the faces around them- faces of loved ones, friend and neighbours. Astonished, they cried:

“What is this wonder? Who has brought us this wonderous light?”

All eyes turned, still blinking, towards a tall man in a long rob who stood closest to the fire.  He was clearly pleased with the joy the light was bringing to the people.  He declared:

“It was I who discovered the light.  I believe I will call it… Revelation!”  And people cheered!

For days people came to the light, basking in the glow, lost in the details and the colour. For the first time, they discovered the greenness of the grass beneath their feet, the gently sway of the leaves in the trees.  But soon they reached the limit of Revelation’s bright rays. What lay beyond the small circle of light? Could this gift not illuminate many more wonders throughout the kingdom of Mystery?  So they asked the man in the robe to lend them a small part of Revelation, that they might explore the land.

“Alas,” he said sympathetically, “It is far to dangerous to risk such a thing”.  But the people continued, pleading with him.

“No!” he cried, now appalled at their selfish and reckless suggestion, “Don’t you see that Revelation will be reduced if it is dismantled piecemeal? For centuries you lived in darkness, but now this gift has already gone dull for you? Here is Revelation, in all it’s glory, unchanged and unchangable. Is it not enough for you?  For shame!”

And so the people went away, dejected.  However, they soon returned to their lives in the darkness of Mystery, once again content with their simple lives.  Every few days they would return to the light, tolerate the man in robes to look longingly at the grass and the trees around them.  They would look into each other eyes and see each others faces, which now seemed somehow less happy than before.  Occasionally a radical would rush forward to steal some of the fire, only to be tackled and beaten by the guards hired by the man in robes. Those who managed to slip past the guards won only the prize of scorched fingers and howls of pain.  In time, many lost interest.

Then one day, an old crippled woman hobbled into the circle, her skin dark and weathered, her hands gnarled through time and age, grasping the cane that helped her walk.  Upon her back she carried a bundle.  The crowd, now dwindled to a faithful few, fell back in a hush of respect, for the old woman was an elder respected for her great wisdom. As she approached the fire, even the man in the robe, his face reflecting curiosity and uncertainty, waved off the guards.

Kneeling before the fire, the old woman placed her bundle on the ground before her, carefully unwrapped the ragged covering and reverantly withdraw its contents: several tapered lengths of wood, a ball of fabric wound on the thick ends, covered in a dark, sticky substance. She selected one of the pieces, holding it by the narrow end. Suddenly, she extended the opposite end into the flames.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the fabric-covered end burst into flames instantly. Withdrawing it from the fire, the old woman struggled to her feet, turned towards the people, raising the flaming brand above her head. No one moved, even the stunned man in the robe, everyone holding their breath.

“This,” said the old woman gently but clearly, “is a torch of Faith. With it you can explore all throughout the kingdom of Mystery, sharing the light of Revelation with others, discovering together the treasures and beauties of this endless and wonderous land. Take them, everyone who is willing.” Most hesitated, looking nervously to the man in the robe, whose face was now twisted with disbelief and anger. A brave few, however crept forward, chose a torch of Faith, then lighting it.  After a moment of stunned silence, they went rushing off towards their homes, their illumination bouncing through the darkness like beacons.

Within days, people throughout Mystery were talking about the revolution of the torches of Faith. The light of Revelation was illuminating the darkest corners of Mystery. After the initial shock, the man in the robe recovered himself and organized his remaining followers, guarding the fire jealously from those influenced by the outcast torch-bearers. They were denounced them as corrupters who perverted the light of Revelation to satisfy their own self desires. The followers of the man in the robe soon took it upon themselves to destroy the torches of Faith, forcing the bearers to return to the circle if they wanted to see the light of Revelation in Mystery.

Despite their best efforts, however, the torch-bearers continued to explore the kingdom of Mystery, gathering together whenever it was safe to journey.  And from the meager flames of their torches, they passed on the light of Relevation to others, until throughout the land, the endless beauty of Mystery was revealed for all to see.

Previous Post – Reflections on my YWAM Family

As I mentioned in my previous post, I spent last week with the staff of YWAM Canada at our national staff conference in Pinawa, MB.  In addition to it being a great time of connecting and refreshing, it was also a time for us to collective challenge one another, asking the difficult questions that face us when we actively seek to live Christ together for the purpose of His mission.  In many of those discussions, especially on what it means to be an inclusive and embracing people, we quite often came to a place where someone would say, “Ok, but where do we draw the line?”

This question all too often left me frustrated, as though we were asking the wrong question.  This is not to say that the underlying concern of this question is not important.  I do believe that inclusion and embrace inevitably must have boundaries.  The question, though, is how and where and what is involved in setting those boundaries in place.  All too often we feel we have to start with a line, start with a set of deal-breakers which people have to adhere to (or at least acknowledge) before they can meaningfully belong to the community of faith.  I think this goes against the heart of how Jesus embodied these dynamics.

When asked to explain it another way at the conference, I decided to try and communicate through an analogy.  The following is what I came up with on the spot.  Now, before we start taking this to extremes, I acknowledge that this is an imperfect analogy in many ways, but it provides a simply touchstone (icon, if you will) into the deeper dynamics.  So bear with me.

In Mark 9, when Jesus responds to the man whose son was being tormented by an evil spirit, the man declares, “I do believe; help my unbelief.”  Here we see a person who clearly believes in Christ and His authority to heal his son.  Yet he also acknowledges that he needs to be saved from his unbelief.  To me this is the mustard seed, the seed of belief.  Belief as seed says a great deal- it is a tiny medium of promise and potential.  It holds within it the potential for something far great than itself.  A seed on its own is nothing.  A seed must be planted.

Often it is here that we presume that belief plants itself in our hearts, and while there is an element of truth there, the soil in which seed of belief will sprout new life in Christ.  Like a seed, we must die to our sin-isolated selves before we can spring to new life in Christ.  Here is where the shift in our thinking takes place, because again we are prone to look at our salvation in Christ through purely individualistic terms.  Rather, Jesus has (by the Holy Spirit) made the Church His Body.  Therefore, it is in the soil of belonging in the embrace of true community that the seed of belief can be reborn to new life.  Unless that seed has the life-giving, life-sustaining soil in which to plant, we cannot expect it transform.

As the seed of belief does sprout new life in the soil of belonging, it begins to be shaped DNA inherent in the seed.  It is being raised into the image of the resurrected Christ while also being restored to its intended nature of being created in God’s image.  It spreads its roots in the soil of belonging and sprouts into the world as the flower it was meant to be.  As clumsy as the term might sound, here I call this the flower of behaviour.  The flower acts and grows and reproduces according to its nature (again Christ).  It did not have to behave like a flower into order to belong, but rather it was only able to be a flower after it had been embraced, rooted and nurtured in the context of belonging.

So where are the boundaries?  Unlike seeds and flowers, our free will means that we do make choices that go against the intentions of God, that our behaviour doesn’t reflect the DNA of Christ reborn within us.  However, this understanding teaches us that the for new life to be born, we have to accept a degree of uncertainty when embracing people with “unflowered” belief.  Jesus did not teach us that we need to examine each seed before we plant it, He said we will know the nature of the seed by the nature of the fruit it produces.  This demands that we allow fruit to be produced first.  This is risky.  This is messy.  This is complicated.  It is necessary.

Further, this forces us to realize that the nature and quality of the soil should be one of first and primary concerns.  So often we spend so much time and energy requiring behaviour of people before they can be accepted into our communities.  Rather, we must be looking to the planks in our own eyes (or the weeds, in this case), not only for our own sakes, but for the sake of the delicate seeds of belief that are seeking to take root among us.  Rather than purity-police trying to protect the integrity of what is ours, we need to see it as mothers protecting and nurturing the vulnerable new life within us.  We bear the greater responsibility at this stage.  It is our behaviour that must be held to a high standard.

I cannot help but think of the story of the woman caught in adultery who was brought for Jesus for judgment.  By the letter of the law of Moses this woman had legitimately “crossed the line”.  Her exclusion from the community was so clear that it allowed for absolute exclusion- death.  And yet Jesus does not exclude her- don’t miss how critical that is as a first response- but rather stoops down and begins to draw in the dirt.  Then He turns to the accusers- again addressing the sin of the believers before the sinner- and invites him without sin to cast the first stone, then returns to the dirt.  When He stands up again, He see that He and the woman are alone.  He asks her if no one accuses her, to which she replies that there is no one.  Then Jesus says, “Neither do I condemn you”- Jesus is the only man who could have rightfully condemned her, yet He does not- then says, “Go and sin no more”.  It is here, at the end of this process that Jesus finally address behaviour.  He knows that her behaviour is more likely to be transformed by His loving defense (at His own real risk) and embrace than through fear of the the judgment of the law, legitimate as it may be.

Where do we draw the line?  Sometimes, when I read the story of Jesus and this woman, I imagine that when Jesus stoops down that He was drawing a line in the sand.  He drew a line in the sand between the accusers and the woman.  And He stood on her side of the line.

Where do we draw the line?  Why do we draw the line?

Previous Post – Missional Life & A Global Perspective

As we make our way through this Lenten season, towards our celebration of Easter, Little Flowers Community has been meditating on the Cross and its formational work in shaping us into Christ’s Body, a missional-incarnational people together.  This past Wednesday was the Feast of St. Patrick, a man whose life powerfully displayed this pattern of cruciform devotion.  And so today, we spent some time learning from his life, discerning the fingerprints of Christ along the day.

Before going further, please know that I am not suggesting the following as a formula or rigid process, but rather a dynamic and fluid pattern that we see reflected throughout the history of God’s redeeming work among humanity.

Patrick was a Romanized-Celt who enjoyed a life of relative wealth and privilege in a northern district of what is today England.  While his father was a deacon & his grandfather a priest, Patrick showed little interest in the faith, enjoying instead the pleasures of youth.  His was a care-free life.  However, at the age of 16, everything changed.

Raiders from the northern tribes attacked his community, pillaging and killing many.  Patrick was one of many people captured to be taken back as a slave in the uncharted lands of what is now known as Ireland.  Faced with torture and death, the young man was forced to watch as others were beaten and killed on the long journey north.

For years Patrick served as a shepherd for a people he had previously dismissed as savage and inferior.  Now he was among the lowest of the low, valued far less than the livestock he was charged to care for.  As the years slipped away, so did his hope of escape and freedom.

Then, after six long years of servitude, Patrick received a message from God, promising that his freedom was at hand, miraculously providing everything he needed to return home.  Even a ship across the cold, enemy-protected waterways fell neatly into place.  And true to his vision, Patrick escaped to freedom and returned home a changed man, humble and contrite and thankful to God.

And yet, truly transformed by the grace of God, Patrick obediently follows the call of Christ to return to the land of his captors as a missionary, engaging the people with a vibrant and creative authority rarely seen among Christian then (or since).  Today, Ireland owes a great debt to this former slave, as does the Church as a whole.  What can we learn from this profoundly moving story?

Patrick lived the life of his youth behind the pretense of wealth and privilege.  Like the plants & skins that Adam & Eve used to cover their own sinful nakedness, so to did Patrick cover up his own emptiness and need.  This Hidden Nakedness- something we all share- belied the true price that sin exacted upon him.  What masks do you wear to cover your own Hidden Nakedness?  What pretense covers up your own fears, doubts & failings?

The false security of Patrick’s life was shattered in the chaos of his violent abduction, reducing his wealth, privilege, education, status- everything!- to nothing in the face of this event.  Confronted with the fragility of his own mortality and the illusion of his own freedom, the young man was crushed in the face of suffering and death.  Here Patrick confronted the reality of The Cross in all its devastating reality.  Have there been moments in your life where the masks & pretense have been shattered through suffering or loss?  Have you experienced the real suffering of The Cross we are called to take up daily?

Death might have seemed a better option for Patrick, rather than facing the emptiness and indignity of been reduced to the lowest slave.  As the days turned to months and the months to years, everything in Patrick died away- his pride, his rights, his expectations, everything.  He was left in the emptiness of The Tomb.  When faced with Christ’s call to fully surrender your life to Him, what parts of your life to most resist letting die?  What aspects hold you back from truly entering The Tomb?  Why?

And yet, out of the emptiness was born a new, humble and contrite heart in Patrick.  When everything died away and he was left fully at the mercy of God, hope was reborn and way to freedom was made clear by His miraculous grace.  Patrick was touched by The Resurrection power of Christ at work in his life.  How has this work of Christ’s Resurrection manifested itself it visible ways in your life?

For most people, Patrick’s freedom would have been enough to demonstrate God’s character and power.  Most of us are satisfied with the saving work of Christ in our lives.  And why not?  It is the greatest reality of love and grace possible!  And yet, the Holy Spirit stirred Patrick yet again, filling him with the power, passion and purpose of Pentecost to become a missional servant among the very people who caused him so much suffering.  Has your Christian devotion largely stopped at the point of redemption and restoration?  How is Christ actively calling you to live Pentecost out in missional service to His Kingdom?

Again, this pattern is not a formula.  It is not a process of steps that can simply be worked out and completed for your own spiritual benefit.  It is the mysterious, but very real work of God through the power of Christ’s death, resurrection, ascension and Pentecost baptism that is available- that is necessary!- for every believer.  It is not about an event where we “achieve” God’s will, but rather a journey we follow in becoming the very Body of Christ to the world.

Lord God, we come out of the darkness into Your presence, exposed in the brokenness of our sin.  Free of from the lies, excuses and pretenses that keep us from standing in the purifying light of Your holiness.

Lead us daily to the Cross, even when every instinct and desire is to flee from the suffering it brings.  Help us to truly die to the selfish and narrow impulses of our hearts, relinquishing every right and privilege we hold onto.

Comfort us in the loneliness of the death we must embrace, broken and empty and wholly Yours.  Speak to us Your wisdom with Your still, small voice, quieting our souls in the silence of this necessary grave.

Bring us new life, Lord Jesus, as we share in Your wondrous resurrection, celebrating the promise of new life for all Creation. Bind us to You as a Groom to His Bride, and renew us and transform us together into Your image, Your Body.

Fill us and unite us and empower us with Your Holy Spirit, moving us with Your perfect will.  Lead us into all the world where we will become and live as Your Body, continuing Your mission to every living thing.

All this we ask in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,

Amen.

Previous Post – Friendship At The Margins

With the recent discussions around missionShift and the Missional Manifesto, much discussion has been stirred again around the true meaning and implications of what it means to be missional.  There are already many incredible contributions (such as these from David Fitch and Brother Maynard, to name just two).  The topic has been on my mind a great deal more of late as well, largely born out the active work of our church, Little Flowers Community, to intentionally pursue a missional identity.  So rooted in the practice of faith, the implications in this context are enormous.  While there is far too much to share in this space, one aspect has been surfacing more for me recently.

When the call was made for a single sentence explanation of “missional”, I had several ideas.  Knowing that a single sentence was going to be (unqualified) inadequate to the task, I decided to give what I see as one facet to this larger picture.  My sentence was:

“Becoming and living Christ together.”

While I am not the theologian that David Fitch is, and though I lack the masterful word/idea craftsmanship of Brother Maynard, let me try to unpack this a bit here.

First, I think it would be fair to share what I have been using as a guiding understanding of the Gospel.  Again, while it is too short to answer all questions, it will be helpful for this discussion.  Here it is:  The Gospel is the glory of the Triune God made manifest in His work to reconcile every person to union with Himself, communion with others, to fullness of life, and to harmony with Creation, in the context of community for the good of all.  Each aspect of this sentence could be further developed, but let me simply state that while not explicit stated in the wording, I do strongly affirm that the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ for the atonement of our sin is central this process.  Atonement theology can be a touchy subject, so I will say that I believe that a variety of atonement themes are represented in Scripture and all must shape and form our understanding of the redemptive work of Christ.  I wanted to put this Gospel explanation at the beginning of this post so that it is clear that I affirm that the work of redemption has a greater scope than saving individual souls from personal damnation.

Central to my understanding of the word of Christ in my life is that, through dying to self, I am resurrected with Him into His Body.  In this sense, the saving work of the Cross where sin is put to death is inseparable from the nature of what we are transformed into (together), which is Christ Himself.  We decrease as He increases.  This is the heart of the incarnation, for just as Jesus became man and entered meaningfully into our world, so to we become Christ’s Body and enter into His mission in our world.  Through the unity and power of the Holy Spirit, we represent the incarnational presence of Jesus Christ in the world today.

In some ways, using the terms “becoming” and “living” might seem redundant, but sadly it is important to distinguish.  The emphasis on the worship of Christ, which is unquestionably essential to the faith, has too often overshadowed obedience to Christ (beyond what it takes to “be saved”).  Because the redemptive work of the Cross leads to the resurrection into His Body, then it follows that as we become His incarnational presence in the world today, then we are clearly called to live as Christ in all things too.  This is not merely us following the example of Christ, but rather, through His Holy Spirit in us, living Christ as He directs in the world.  Thus, an emphasis on justice, service, charity, hospitality are not distractions from the salvific work of Christ, but the inevitable fruit and evidence that work.

Finally, that this active incarnational nature happens primarily in the context of community is essential.  While individuals can unquestionably live missionally, I would strongly argue that all true missionality is done through the power of the Holy Spirit.  That same Spirit is what unites us as diverse members in one true Body.  Therefore, I believe that individuals are missional only insofar as their individual obedience is expressed as the act of a member of a wider Body.  While it might be said that, by simply being a Christian you are part of a Body (and this is true), I believe that the unity of the Spirit is made manifest in more than an abstract identification, but more primarily through genuine relational community.

To be missional is to enter into the invitation of God to participate in His work of redemption and restoration of all creation through the transformation into His Body through His death and resurrection.  It is in the act of participating in Communion that this truth is most beautiful displayed.  As we come in brokenness, we share in the brokenness of Christ at the cross.  And through participating in His death, we also are unified in Him through His victory over death in resurrection.  Even creations redemption is celebrated in the elements of bread and wine, life giving fruit of the earth.  It is here that I am thrilled by considering what it means to be missional.