missional statements

You don’t have to be a long-time reader to know I’m frustrated with Christianity in this country.

I’m tired of expensive buildings and the capital campaigns to pay for them. I’m tired of huge staffs and routine services and “the church has left the building” (for one day) and maybe-effective programs like VBS (can I say that on a Standard blog?). I’m tired of people who claim to be Christians but have no idea what they believe or why.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me. Long-time readers also know I can overthink things and be critical. (It’s amazing any of you still read this blog, actually.)

Are my expectations too high? Is the church we have now what God intended? Does anyone else feel this way?

Apparently at least two others do, and I got to chat with them last week.



Ashley Wooldridge, executive pastor at Christ’s Church of the Valley, shared how CCV completely overhauled its structure by dividing up their entire area into neighborhoods and asking people to build relationships with other CCV attenders right on their street and in their subdivision instead of driving across town for a small group.

But the goal wasn’t more convenient Bible studies; group members are expected to get to know the neighbors around them and own the responsibility for service and outreach in that neighborhood. Groups work together to meet that specific neighborhood’s needs: they provide meals for new mothers and grieving families, help with home renovation projects, organize neighborhood picnics, give groceries to the unemployed, and even collect money for a neighbor’s medical bills or a rehab stay.

(Interesting side note: despite huge growth and a merge with another megachurch earlier this year, CCV’s benevolence budget has not increased.)


On the other side of the country, RiverTree Christian Church is revamping its strategy around “GoCos”–Go Communities ranging from 20 to 70 people, each one committed to reaching a different group. The church will launch 30 of these this fall, but already a few are gathering at the local country club and among the area’s itinerant Mexican farmers. Each group has a leader who’s trained and coached by RiverTree pastors, but each one is also encouraged to function as its own small part of the body and reproduce itself.

Senior pastor Greg Nettle sees this as the way to truly grow; the church recently passed up the opportunity to buy the huge plot of land and build the huge building to focus on this—a strategy that doesn’t require much meeting space and could potentially affect many more people. These folks may or may not ever attend worship at RiverTree, but worship attendance is (finally!) no longer the ultimate measure of success in reaching a community.


I’m not blogging about this to pick on church again; instead, I want to celebrate some churches willing to try different models. Both are more difficult, time-consuming and risky than church as usual. The results of both are harder to measure. And both challenge people to move from consumers of a weekly show to participants in the mission of the church.


Are these approaches a “better” way to do church? I don’t know. But they sure look more like the first church than what the rest of us are doing.

an example from a reader

Earlier this year I wrote a post urging “older” ladies to consider proactively building relationships with younger women and helping us navigate marriage and work and parenthood. I received several good comments and then forgot about it until a few weeks ago, when a reader emailed me this message:

I was reading your blog, my mind going in all sorts of directions from N.T. Wright’s books to finding a young woman to mentor. And it HIT me–I AM mentoring a young woman, just not the way I thought it would be.

Once a week, I stay with a young woman, 29 years old, who was diagnosed in January with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease. She had just completed her doctorate in physical therapy, her husband was in Afghanistan, they were planning their next chapter of having children. The military brought her husband home and has allowed him to remain in the active military in the States. Since she has already progressed to the point of being on a walker/wheelchair, she needs people to stay with her while her husband works.

I signed up for one day and she talked the whole time—very softly, but talked. At the end of the day I said to her, “You know that I’m 70, have arthritis, and can’t do a lot of your heavy work. I can do light chores, but if you fall, we’ll just have to keep each other company on the floor because I won’t be able to get you up. I need your honesty. What can I do to help? Run errands? Write letters? What?”


She gave me a life-changing response. She said, “I have lots of people to do my work. I have no one to just sit calmly and talk with me.”

So I go once a week and sit calmly and talk with her. She’s telling me about her whole life. So far we are up to age 19. She tells me about her struggles with accepting this disease. She talks about her disappointment at not being able to raise children.

Even at my age and condition, God is using me at what I do best—talking and listening. I know some might dispute my ability to sit quietly and listen, but I can when God calls me to it!

I’m writing to tell you I’m mentoring. And I’m writing to ask for prayer. My daughter said, “Mom, I know this is a God-thing, because otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it.” What she means is, I usually run from anything dealing with sick people. I didn’t even like going with my husband to do home communion! I’m determined to stay with this young woman till…..

Please pray for me.

This friend is choosing to do what she can with where she is. What a great example of obedience as well as a reminder that “mentoring” does not need to be complex or programmed, just an intentional connection between two people. It can also work both ways—I told my friend I suspect she will receive even more from this friendship than she gives.

I’m so proud of her and honored to pray for this adventure. I’d love to do the same for you this summer—leave a comment about your own recent steps of faith and how we can support you in prayer.

divine Wright

Years ago a friend asked me why I believed Christianity was true. I said it was because the story hangs together.

Genesis begins with the creation of the heavens and the earth and Revelation leaves us with the promise of a new heaven and new earth. The 14 generations noted in each phase of Matthew’s genealogy are sets of seven, indicating perfection (if not an exhaustive listing). The first-born sons of the Israelites are spared from the final plague before the exodus, but this mercy sets in motion a new sacrificial system and paves the way for The Son to redeem us all.

Perhaps it’s my hard-wired love of story or maybe it’s just my compulsive need for symmetry and closure, but the rich symbolism and connections running through the biblical account are one reason I believe God’s behind it all.


So I was captivated by N.T. Wright’s lectures on the Gospels this past Saturday. The good bishop spoke at a church here in Nashville and more than 500 of us crammed into the stuffy gym to sit on plastic chairs, take notes until our hands ached, and thoroughly love the experience.

Wright’s theme was we have missed the big picture of the Gospels: that they are the story of how Israel’s God became king of the world and the challenging, paradigm-shifting ramifications of that idea.

He urged us to consider four aspects of the four accounts: Jesus as the culmination of the story of Israel, Jesus as God’s return to his people after leaving the temple, Jesus as the beginning and renewal of the church, and Jesus introducing the empire of God vs. the empire of the world.


It was a full day and I’d need to write at least three more blog posts to summarize all the great material. But I was especially happy when—in addition to amazing discourses on Old Testament prophecy or the theology of suffering or a million other things—he also tossed in fascinating insights about the story.

For instance, those three generational accounts in Matthew not only symbolize perfection in each set of 14, but the overall structure—two 7s, two 7s, two 7s—point to Jesus as the seventh 7—the complete fulfillment, the year of jubilee.

Samuel foreshadows John the Baptist. Isaiah 55 replaces the thorns of Genesis 3 with juniper. Jesus defeats temptation where the Israelites could not—the wilderness.

On the sixth day of creation God creates man before resting on the seventh day. On the sixth day of a dark week 2000 years ago Pilate announced, “Here is the man!” before Jesus spent the seventh day “resting” in the tomb. (Implication? The 8th day of the new creation is going to be awesome.) And baptism is a symbol not only of our death to self and our emergence into new life, but of the Israelites’ rescue in the parted Red Sea, the creation of life from the waters, and the rescues of Noah and Jonah.

Maybe this is is stuff every first-year seminary student already knows, but we’ve already established I have some stuff to learn. One of Bishop Wright’s books has to be next on the list for Jen University. I’m starting Simply Christian today. Who wants to join me?

jen’s list

One of the many hats I wear is content manager/editor for Christian Church Today. This site includes news and blog posts from Christian church leaders, a short info article about these churches adapted from Christian Standard, a jobs board, and other features.

But the most popular page on the site is the Locator. Type in a church and find its address and phone number—maybe even a staff listing if someone from the church has emailed me recently with the latest news. Or type in a city and find all the Christian churches in that area. It’s a handy tool that’s used a lot.

Last week I received an email via the site from a guy (we’ll call him Chris) who wanted to add his church. The church’s website indicated it was affiliated with, or was perhaps even a campus of, North Point in Atlanta. I wrote him back.

“Thanks for your email. Wanted to clarify that on CCT we list churches affiliating with the Restoration Movement. That’s not to be exclusive or denominational—although I realize it may sound that way—it’s just that the specific mission of the site is to serve this group of churches and be a directory for them.”

He wrote me back.

“I went to Restoration schools and worked for a Christian church and that church helped plant the new church. What defines a Christian church enough to make the listing? I am a Christian church guy, and I planted a church.”

The exchange reminded me of the conversations I participated in during a recent gathering of our younger leaders. Although some people may see the current downward trends in denominational loyalty or convention attendance as a negative, this group felt it was a natural next step in living out our movement’s philosophies. If we really aren’t the only Christians, and we’re really acting like it, it’s inevitable—and positive—for the boundary lines between us to dissolve.


However, this also means it’s harder to define what sets us apart, and different groups use different measures.

These pastors, many of them church planters, shared their struggles to get funding from existing congregations because they didn’t include “Christian” in the new church’s name or collaborated with churches “outside the fold.”

“When you try to live out the original spirit of the Restoration Movement, you’re branded an outsider to it,” said one pastor. “We don’t want to be a denomination but we definitely act like one.”

“I don’t know what people are so afraid of,” said another. “We spent all these years defining what we’re against. Now we aren’t sure what we’re for.”


It bothers me when working with, praying for and accepting other Christ-followers as brothers somehow threatens our cozy fraternity originally built on just these principles. But I realized I was guilty of the same thing.

There’s nothing wrong with having an online directory devoted to “our” churches, but who gets to decide which churches qualify? Do they make the list if the pastor went to one of our colleges? If the church name includes the word “Christian”? If they dunk people and serve communion each week? And are efforts at definition worth our time in a world full of people who just need Jesus?

Chris went to our schools and considers himself “one of us.” He WANTS to be connected to us. He’s working with other believers to preach the gospel. He’s committed to teaching the Bible. And he’s “shaking hands” with people across denominational lines while challenging the necessity of those lines.

So I added his church to the CCT directory. I think he fits right in.

controversy wins

The kerfluffle over the weekend (other than what on earth Melissa Leo was thinking) was Rob Bell’s new book, “Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived.”

Although the book doesn’t come out until the end of March, reviewers who read some early-advance chapters had a lot to say.

Some were dismayed: “It is unspeakably sad when those called to be ministers of the Word distort the gospel and deceive the people of God with false doctrine,” wrote Justin Taylor (no relation ).

Some were intrigued: “If we’re honest with ourselves, we can acknowledge that we don’t know everything; that we have questions and even doubts about certain things,” said Eugene Cho. “While we might be attracted to absolute clarity, we  must yield to the possibility that there are some things that are mysterious; they are not fully attainable – as of yet.”

And some were smug: “Farewell Rob Bell,” tweeted John Piper, seeming to imply a) Bell is no longer a Christian and b) Piper gets to decide.


But here’s the statement I find most significant:

“What we believe about heaven and hell is incredibly important because it exposes what we believe about who God is and what God is like,” Bell says.


I’ve not read Bell’s book and when I do his conclusions may bother me. But I’m glad he wrote it, because the doctrine of heaven and hell and its implications for evangelism, pluralism and other isms is huge—and a major reason many people can’t accept Christianity.

It’s an issue we must deal with. Unlike Piper, I don’t know what Bell believes or if he is, himself, damned for writing it. (Because I’m going to READ IT FIRST.) But the reaction to the book and the blogs is proof of the need to talk about it.


Here’s the video that sparked the controversy, and here’s Glen Elliott’s recent article on the subject. What do you think?

good questions

You learn a lot when you write a blog.


One of my friends has apparently moved to Budapest. LOTS of people hate Comcast. And just recently a fellow blogger informed me I am a kidney in the body of Christ. (It’s more of a compliment than it sounds.)

Because I learn so much from you all, I’m asking for your help.


Last week Byron Davis invited me to submit a video for an online conference he’s producing for the new Destiny Leader Magazine. He’s asking each contributor to answer two questions about the theme “One Nation Under ? : Living the Gospel in a Post-Christian America.”

Question 1:  How did we get here? 

Question 2: Where do we go from here?


I told Byron I would be honored to participate, but those questions were just a SMIDGE ambiguous for me. Short of packing my entire liberal arts education (existent but foggy) and seminary training (not existent at all) into six minutes, how does one begin to tackle such a huge subject?

Byron replied that while he intentionally wanted to keep the subject broad, the target audience for the conference was ministry leaders looking to engage non-Christians and equip Christians.

“I am hoping everyone speaks from a place God has ‘disturbed’ them,” he said. “I sense an unrest and I am praying that it’s not just me!”

Hmmm. Well, heaven knows there are plenty of things that disturb me, but I don’t think Destiny Leader wants a video about my dislike of “The Bachelor” or my incredulity at the number of people buying their socks at roadside stands. As I think about some of the more serious issues facing us, I’d love your insights. What is causing unrest in your spirit these days? What would you want to say about living the Gospel in our world?

And I don’t want this to be just another talking head pontificating to a video camera, so I’d love some creative ideas for scripting and shooting it.


You are a smart, creative bunch who regularly give me good stuff to think about. I’d love your help on this one—but no kidneys, Joel.

more at stake

There is a perception out there that the Christian Standard avoids the hard issues or publishes a “party line” of predictable opinions. As one leader said, “It is narrowly focused in the ghetto of the Restoration Movement.”


I find this ironic because I also read the many letters and website comments that roll into the CS offices criticizing the topics the editors choose to cover or the positions they take.

Here’s a sampling just from current stuff:

“Anyone who would shun small groups, I believe, is of a legalistic nature and is looking for attention” (in response to Brian Jones’ “Why Churches Should Euthanize Small Groups”).

“I am disappointed that Christian Standard would choose to publish or consider this divisive and false doctrine” (in response to Glen Elliott’s “What Should We Believe About Hell?”).

“Why would you even print such a story? Oh, I know, you want to present all sides of an issue…..This time, perhaps you pushed the envelope just a bit too far” (in response to John Mark Hicks’ “God, I Hate You”).

And that’s before you go back into the last few years’ archives for the many articles on creation care, politics, nationalism, Calvinism, the role of women, racial issues, and theology.

In each of these areas, talented authors have explored a variety of perspectives. In fact, I think many of those who spout the Standard’s “protectionist” tendencies actually haven’t read the thing in years.


But more important than defending the magazine to those who have already made up their minds is finding new ways to lead the discussion. There are issues we could be addressing and discussions we need to be having, and younger leaders (who are already grappling with these ideas) from whom we can learn.

To paraphrase one of my colleagues at a planning meeting last week, we can’t gripe about people not coming to the table if we haven’t set a place for them.

So consider the table set.


In its February 6 issue, Christian Standard will launch “Stake,” an every-other-week part of the magazine dedicated to “credentialing the heretics”—the many Christian risk-takers who have not accepted a party line and are asking the tough questions about faith.

The website is already live and packed with great content from our leader, Brian Mavis, and a team of “Stakeholders” including Vince Antonucci, Jim Tune, Troy Jackson and Mark Moore. We’ll be publishing more new stuff each week (sometimes each day) and we’d love your contributions.

Will we address things that shake up our regular readers? Will we attract some new voices? Yes, if we’re doing our job right. But as Brian says in the first issue, “Stake is not about being hip. This is not a place to rag on the Restoration Movement. This is not about dishonoring or discounting our heritage. Though it may be provocative, it is not about being controversial.”

Instead, the point is to provide that place at the table for anyone interested in asking questions, taking risks, discussing ideas, and pointing to Jesus as the Way. We’ll have roundtable discussions (I’ve already completed two; anyone have the spiritual gift of transcription?), videos, and links to resources.  Occasionally there will be a cheesy Christian illustration for a caption contest.

We’ll be encouraged toward unity and discouraged away from legalism. We’ll probably argue a bit. We’ll be challenged to “turn our theology into biography” (which means Brian will regularly suggest new risks for us to take).


I’m really excited to be part of this—I hope you’ll contribute a blog post or two, comment on at least that many, and join the conversation here. There’s a lot at stake.

new to you friday–face the music

Since I first posted this, my buddy John (who, interestingly, is a super talented musician) has started monthly gatherings for “This Church,” a church using comedy and conversation in its worship instead of music and singing. I’m so proud of the way he’s trying what God has asked him to try, and I’m interested in hearing your thoughts. Worship is more than music, we say—so what’s our response to a church that doesn’t use any?

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In Christian circles we like to quote Romans 12 and say worship is a lifestyle and not really about music at all. In fact, my blogging comrade Arron wrote a good post about this last week, and I agree with the points he makes.

However, while we say this, we plan “worship services” which usually include mostly music and a sermon. The budgets for “worship” and the “worship staff” and “worship programs” are often some of the largest in the entire church. And many meetings, conferences, blogs, and books revolve around rehearsing, resourcing, and relevant-izing these 15-30 minutes of music each week.


One of my friends plans to start a church that moves away from this focus. In fact, he plans to include no music in their weekly gatherings at all; instead he’ll include observational and improvisational comedy that he believes will connect more easily and more genuinely with a non-Christian crowd.

He asked me to join a small team for a day-long meeting to brainstorm about this new project, and I’d love to hear your thoughts before I fly to California next week. Why has singing and playing music become the only method for corporate worship? Is it a problem for us to know that worship is an attitude of honoring God in every moment but to talk like it’s singing—preferably with ecstatic emotion—for 20 minutes on the weekend? Are there other, equally biblical ways to “do church”?

american dream

I’m tired of the “Don’t blame me, I voted for…..” bumper stickers. Here are some I’d like to see instead:

“No griping about the welfare state until you’ve mentored a teen mom.”

“Yes, abortion is wrong. How many of those unwanted kids would you like to adopt?”

“I got a good education so I’m tutoring someone who didn’t.”




Last week I had the opportunity to participate in a branding strategy meeting with Matthew Barnett and other leaders of the Dream Center in Los Angeles. In a city where 11,000 people sleep on the streets and 17% of all families live below the poverty line, the Dream Center is making a real difference. Food trucks feed 22,000 people each month. Dorm-style housing provides a place for the addicted to begin again. A mobile medical clinic offers treatment, lab work and pharmacy services to the destitute on Skid Row. (In true California style, the Dream Center even provides free chiropractic services at its headquarters.)

It’s trendy for churches to be involved with “social justice” initiatives, and many of them do a lot of good. But Barnett and his team are more interested in sharing the Gospel (thousands worship at Angelus Temple each week) and social transformation (in the Dream Center’s first four years, local prostitution and gang violence dropped 73%, the homicide rate dropped 28% and rape dropped 53%).


The Dream Center operates under the assumption that the Church—not politics, policy or government programs—is the answer to society’s spiritual and tangible needs. Instead of pointing fingers at dishonest politicians, they focus on restoring wholeness to a city ravaged by the father of lies. Instead of waiting for political hope and change, they’re offering real Hope (and a hot meal) to anyone in need.


I was inspired by my day with them, but also frustrated when I opened Facebook that night to see the usual status updates of context-less Bible verses interspersed with opinions about Obama, Glenn Beck, the Tea Party, Fox News and Sarah Palin. I wondered how many of these friends, across the political spectrum, not only trumpeted their views online but quietly volunteered to improve a specific problem in a specific city.

As Christians, we don’t get to complain because we voted for the other guy. We don’t get to blame everything on the red states or the blue states or sit at home wringing our hands over the state of society. We don’t get to say “the local church is the hope of the world” but be content with community outreach consisting of Upward basketball and scrapbooking.

Instead, we get to partner with God in the restoration of all things. The church can do what politicians cannot, and now I’m dreaming about how to be part of it.

guest post #3–a baseball leadership model

A few weeks ago I opened up the blog to guest posts because I knew there were people out there with insights I wasn’t smart enough to think of myself.

Then people began emailing me with ideas and I thought, “Publishing this will confirm that I was not smart enough to think of this myself.”


But in the spirit of humbly taking one for the team I bring you this latest guest post, which also talks about teamwork. Matt Johnson, the author, knows whereof he speaks; he’s the senior minister at Levittown (PA) Christian Church near Philadelphia.

What do you think—are there weaknesses in our church leadership structures? What’s mandatory and what’s optional? Why have we defaulted to the current system?

Share your thoughts. Because I’ll say one thing for guest posts—someone else has to respond to the comments.

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“I don’t like organized religion.” Every few months I run into someone honest and bold enough to say this to my face. “Great,” I respond with a wry smile, “we’re not that organized.”

How about your church? How organized is it? Perhaps a better question: how is it organized? Chances are you either have a CEO or Commander-In-Chief at the top of the flow chart. The Christian churches/churches of Christ are largely the product of frontier America, rugged individualism, and enlightenment thinking, so it’s no surprise that the organizational structures of our long-established churches suspiciously resemble the American government.

“No, no,” you say, “we have elders and deacons, just like the Bible says. Right?” Right. Reality check—we vote a senior minister (president) into office. We elect elders (senators), deacons (representatives), and have board meetings that resemble a joint session of Congress (and are often just as productive).

In many churches we have even initiated term limits for our representatives. Elections and term limits—not sure where to find those in Acts. Matthias was chosen by lot, not ballot.


A more recent development is the emergence of a CEO. Many churches have pragmatically chosen an organizational structure based on a business model. These churches head hunt for the right senior pastor (chief executive officer), hire support staff (vice presidents), and often have outside supervision (board of directors). This business model mentality in the church is why Thom Rainer could make bank by repackaging Jim Collins’ modern business classic Good to Great by researching congregations and calling it Breakout Churches.

Now before anyone gets defensive and holds a committee meeting to condemn this post, let me say I think the New Testament focuses more on principles of leadership than prescribed organizational structure. I am by no means a purist in this area (which will become evident momentarily), and I believe the scriptures are designed to allow flexibility in these matters.

To use a 200-year-old phrase, our organizational structures are man-made innovations. I’m okay with that, as long as we admit it. But I think we have to ask some questions.


First, are our models working? We must admit our current models place a lot of responsibility and authority on one person. In some ways it is an ancient throwback to the days of the mono-episcopate, which was instituted to expedite decisions in times of persecution and instances of heresy. Today some people still see the advantage of one man charting the direction of a church. Others see the dangers. (Insert praise or horror story of a megachurch pastor here.)

Second question: is there a a better way? Maybe. Let me suggest one I’d like to try—the sports model. (I think of it in baseball terms, but you could go with another sport.)


The baseball model would require something distinct from other models—a manager. This person would be responsible not for preaching or teaching, but for calling the shots on the field so that people who are strong in different skills could each perform at their best.

Since I already oversimplified other organizational models, allow me to oversimplify this one. Each church would have one manager (I don’t have a Christianized name for this), pitchers (preaching staff), position players (specialized ministers/deacons) and owners (elders). Additionally, various coaches (mentors) could be brought in from the outside to sharpen the team.


And there is the word—team. This model is truly rooted in a team approach. It does not rely on one person to pitch, hit, manage and take ownership of the team while others take advisory and supplementary roles. It recognizes the diversity of gifts in the church and allows people to serve where they are talented.

This approach could find a nice balance between the value of a manager’s experience and maturity and the benefits of younger staff with fresh talent and energy. It could place the elders in the role of broad-minded vision casters instead of micromanagers. It could allow more members to take their turn on the field and spend less time on the bench (or in the stands).

I’m sure this model has drawbacks. Admittedly, it is radically different from any other model I’ve heard of. It is an innovation (as is any other organizational model), but perhaps one worth exploring.

 

So what about it? Any “pastor emeritus” types want to move to the suburbs of Philly and get back in the game? Until then, please excuse me—I have to attend a meeting with my board…….