Sea & Islands Post 26

A High View of Scripture

We have a special place at home that we call the ‘plastic cupboard’. It is so named because this is where we keep all the tubs and containers that we have yet failed to throw away. I am not sure what it is about plastic but it seems to have a life of its own. The knives and forks are obedient as they sit waiting in the cutlery drawer. The plates and dishes follow all the rules and stay where they are put. The plastic items seem to wait for any opportunity to make a dash for freedom as soon as the door is opened.

Every once in a while we attempt to tidy this cupboard and find all manner of things that we had forgotten were in our possession. The same could be said of the drawer containing old phone chargers and other associated electrical items.

I often feel like this with some of the theological and ecclesiological baggage that we have collected over the years. We develop views on things like hell, the second coming, worship, and salvation that we feel sure will be useful to us, but they get pushed to the back of our minds with a variety of questions that it seems we are not allowed to ask.

If we dared to ask whether it might be safe to throw out some of these views we would risk being called a non-evangelical or worse still, a liberal. In fact, it seems that some evangelicals try to deflect from an honest debate by throwing the ‘L’ word at anyone, who raises one of these awkward questions that most of us have but rarely feel safe enough to pose.

It seems that it is all too easy to fall into the liberal camp without even noticing: I am not talking about necessarily doubting issues such as the Trinity or the resurrection here. I am talking about genuine questions about how we interpret and use scripture. It seems that to offer even an alternative interpretation of certain key scriptures is to risk being placed in a group known as the heretics. We have to face the reality that some of the things in our theological store cupboard need to be questioned.

My old friend, Dave Gilpin (54), senior leader of Hope City group of churches, did this in a sermon he gave following Rob Bell's questions about whether more people might actually be saved than we had once thought. (55)

I listened to Dave with interest as he offered alternative views on how those who had never had an opportunity to hear the gospel might stand before God. I couldn't help think at the end that Dave wasn't that far from Rob Bell's ultimate conclusion. Now he either hadn't read 'Love Wins', which I find hard to believe, or he hadn't realised that much of Bell's angst was in reaction to the influence that Calvinism has upon the church in the USA.

Dave is a gifted communicator and I always welcome hearing his views, but he is not alone in his dismay at people like Bell and the questions they raise. He is also not alone in being part of the number of Arminians who find it easy quote Calvinist writers in defending the gospel. The problem here is that speakers like John Piper and Mark Driscoll would not recognise the gospel that Dave and others are defending; at least not in the fullest sense.

Francis Chan (56) released his antidote to the Bell’s controversy and offered a similar response of not really answering Bell's questions whilst appearing to do so. It seems that some were drawn in by the humble and conciliatory style of his promotional video. In my opinion, his tone is a fine example of sophistry.

He employs the sophist's skills of presenting an argument that is hard to disagree with only to deliver a conclusion that is not really connected with his original thrust.

Before you feel I am being harsh let me quote a few Calvinist commentators on what the belief system really means.

"It’s not true to say that God loves everyone. Certainly not in the same way that He loves His children. And this is perhaps the best way to get at the question and why it’s striking to us. Does God always work for the joy and the happiness and the good of His children? Yes. Does He want to see all of His children come to believe in faith in Him? Yes. Will God in the end see that all of His children believe in Him, rejoice in Him, belong with Him forever? Yes. Are all people God’s children? No." Kevin DeYoung (57)

"Although, it was not necessary that God save any people at all, in his love he chose to save some." Wayne Grudem & Elliot Grudem (58)

“You have been told that God is a loving, gracious, merciful, kind, compassionate, wonderful, and good sky fairy who runs a day care in the sky and has a bucket of suckers for everyone because we're all good people. That is a lie... God looks down and says ‘I hate you, you are my enemy, and I will crush you,’ and we say that is deserved, right and just, and then God says ‘Because of Jesus I will love you and forgive you.’ This is a miracle.” Mark Driscoll (59)

Even someone like Rick Warren (60), who skirts around the edge of both camps, uses the usual evangelical selective use of scripture when he tweeted:

'God WONT ask "Were you a Calvinist? Arminian? Pentecostal? Catholic? Orthodox? Evangelical? He’ll ask “What’d you do with Jesus?'

I reckon if we looked hard enough we might find that the actual words of Jesus suggest that God would probably ask "How did you treat the poor, hungry, thirsty, naked, and imprisoned?" (61)

This brings me to the main part of the problem as I see it. Those who want to exclude people like McLaren, Pagitt, and Bell often accuse them of not taking scripture seriously. This is not an accurate description of where they stand and it does a disservice to them and to issues at hand.

I would suggest that it is possible both to honour scripture and take it seriously whilst coming to different opinions about its meaning. If I were to quote the following scriptures to you and suggest that God is more inclusive than some evangelicals seem to feel comfortable with how would you respond?

'For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison....' 1 Peter 3:18-19

'All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.....' 2 Cor 5:18-19

'For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.' Col 1:19-20

Now if I see in these verses (and many others) a sense in which God is not limited in the salvation he offers, you have the right to challenge my understanding. You will no doubt have to contextualise in order to do so because you can't apply a literal reading; the verses literally say 'once for all', 'reconciling the world', and 'reconcile to himself all things'.

Please note here that as I have written earlier these verses do not convince me that universalism is the only possible answer. In addition, I suspect that Bell, having based much of his writing upon the work of NT Wright, is not convinced either.

They do make me want to suggest that the gospel is perhaps so much bigger than most evangelicals have allowed themselves to believe; certainly much bigger than Calvinists have taught.

The point here is that I may be wrong in my understanding of these verses. In response, you may well want to argue a different viewpoint. What I don't believe is accurate, is to suggest that I am not respecting scripture: this really won't do if we are going to have an honest discussion.

We all need to start by acknowledging the magnolia paint effect upon our thinking and then approach the text and each other in a more open way.

I noticed this on occasions when trying to raise the thorny issue of women in ministry. I offered a few views of the heavy verses that form the small amount of teaching on the matter; in doing so, I mentioned the word ‘contextualisation’. By the response I received you would have thought I had questioned John Calvin’s intelligence.

Here is my initial problem with such a response. It belies the fact that everyone contextualises.

My challenge is to compare the, admittedly selective, choice of quotes from Calvinist speakers and the few verses I have used, to suggest that the gospel might be more inclusive. You don't have agree with me, but I would ask you to recognise that all sides contextualise and that saying that I, and those that think like me, do not believe in the Bible is not an effective way of dealing with the issues raised.

Lesslie Newbigin puts it like this:

‘If the gospel is to challenge the public life of our society, if Christians are to occupy the “high ground” which they vacated in the noon time of “modernity,” it will not be by forming a Christian political party, or by aggressive propaganda campaigns. Once again it has to be said that there can be no going back to the “Constantinian” era. It will only be by movements that begin with the local congregation in which the reality of the new creation is present, known, and experienced, and from which women and men will go into every sector of public life to claim it for Christ, to unmask the illusions which have remained hidden and to expose all areas of public life to the illumination of the gospel. But that will only happen as and when local congregations renounce an introverted concern for their own life, and recognize that they exist for the sake of those who are not members, as sign, instrument, and foretaste of God’s redeeming grace for the whole life of society.’ (62)

Bishop Newbigin was one of my favourite pastoral theologians. He had a pastor’s heart and a theologian’s thought process. In this short section he shows how understanding the gospel is not about protecting the high ground. This is the political stance that I highlighted earlier. I am sure that there are many Christians, including leaders, who have wanted to raise the type of questions that Bell has done, but have feared the fallout from their constituency - the evangelical church.

It is perhaps worth noting that Newbigin said that to understand the gospel correctly, we need to remember that 'Jesus didn’t write a book. He invested in people!' This investment in people is an excellent picture of how God operates in a non-tribal way. Human nature tends towards tribalism with the result that it is far easier to silence dissenting voices by excluding people who do not fit within our own view.

During a management training session a delegate told me an interesting story in response to our discussion about tribalism in the workplace. He had  been to London to watch his Yorkshire rugby team, Huddersfield, play against Lancashire rivals Wigan.

After the match his group of fans went to a nearby pub to celebrate. A short while later a group of Huddersfield fans came in and both sets of fans enjoyed the kind of humorous banter that rugby is know for.

On the same day Liverpool had been playing Chelsea at football, and it wasn't long before a group of Liverpool fans came in for a drink. Immediately the rugby fans of both Wigan and Huddersfield joined forces in barracking the soccer fans about not supporting a 'proper' sport.

The Wigan tribe had joined together with the Huddersfield one to produce a new rugby tribe when they encountered the Liverpool football fans. Then, as if choreographed to prove a point, they were joined by some Chelsea supporters wishing to make merry. At this point the fans of Wigan, Huddersfield, and Liverpool, all being from the north formed a new tribe in their commitment to singing against the southern supporters of Chelsea.

Tribes are not a rigid framework. They can change depending upon the context in which we find ourselves. I think that this is an excellent picture of what happens within Christianity in general and evangelicalism in particular.

Arminians and Calvinists will remain divided upon the things that they believe to be essential. They will, however, join forces in responding to those in the emergent church as if they are united in a common belief.

The point here is that tribalism, however understandable, is not a useful position from which to have meaningful discussions.

The biblical narrative may well describe the journey of some distinct tribes of people, but its trajectory is always heading towards revealing a God who is reconciling all things

Sèa & Islands Post 25

Community or Constituency

Now all human communities contain an element of politics. We may describe this without a capital ‘P’ but it exists, whether we like it or not. All of us, whether in leadership or not, have a constituency and this very fact means we will be drawn to speak and live in ways that affirm our position within what are perceived to be acceptable boundaries.

We may well, from time to time, develop thoughts and ideas that would be seen as being at odds with the demands of our community but we will be drawn to establishing political patterns of behaviour and modes of speaking that seek to confirm our place within the status quo.

Through a Glass Darkly

During my fifty plus years of life, most of which has been as part of a church community, I have grown somewhat tired of hearing emphatic statements in church.

Don’t get me wrong; I haven’t stopped believing. I just feel concerned about the way we present God and the expectations that we place on people’s lives. Once secure in the knowledge of our certainties, we begin to defend our new territory with the kind of fervour that the world find objectionable.

I am mindful that the Apostle Paul, arguably one of the most definite writers in the New Testament, accepted that his views were limited.

After nailing the context for Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13, he seemingly groans and offers his confession that we see these things, indeed all things, through a darkened glass.

This seems in stark contrast with the stand of certainty some Christians often take when discussing many of the subjects that our dear to us. Such a stance leaves little room for dialogue with other church people, let alone other religions or indeed agnostics and atheists.

It is my conviction that these positions of certainty produce a limited view of God, his creation, and his purposes. Here is the main point of my argument. It is the very limitation of our understanding on which the whole thing rests; or at least our acknowledgement of this limitation.

It is quite another to have such limitations and yet know that you see in part. It is one thing to have a limited view, yet believe that you see fully.

The latter can lead to a halting of dialogue, as individuals and churches defend their view as complete and absolute. The former can lead the pilgrim to hold their belief as a signpost pointing to a greater truth.

It is impossible for us, for example, to understand love fully. We engage with it in a context; in a time and space. When we attempt to describe God’s love, we are immediately confronted with the inadequacy of our words.

I read the gospels and find the Lord Jesus grappling with the problem of explaining eternal truths in an earthly context and I wonder why we believe that certainty is the goal.

Jesus seems to present one parable about the kingdom of God suggesting that it is like a tiny mustard seed that grows into the tallest of plants (51). Then, almost as if to deconstruct his own example, he offers his listeners another parable about a woman working yeast into dough (52). Following this, he offers many other parabolic examples pointing to the kingdom.

It’s as if Jesus is presenting his followers with one glimpse of what the kingdom of God is like and before they can build ‘The first Church of the Mustard Seed’ he indicates that this picture is not enough to explain it.

In light of this we must be wary of thinking that doctrinal expression can ever be enough to express how amazing is the love of God.

Indeed, as we hit some of the more perplexing parts of what it is to trust in the providence of a loving God, we are tempted to run in two seemingly opposite directions. At times the insecurity that we face makes us rush towards things that have the marks of certainty. We need solid ground; we crave a place that gives us hope in something more definite than the sum of our fears.

There are other periods when the questions break us out into new pastures; into ideas, thoughts and hopes that seem to rest on things less certain. Here we feel comfort from the freedom found in asking questions that we feel sure cannot be answered.

It seems odd at times to think that both directions, both responses, have Bible verses that support our newfound place of rest. It is at this point that perhaps we look to those on the other side of this divide and judge them by our own selection of verses.

We need to recognise that all of us view such things from a vantage point constructed by our experience and the theology expressed by our tribe. In this respect, we are being political and engaging with our own constituency.

I hope that it is not too much of a caricature to suggest that a Calvinist Evangelical might stand upon the idea of justice to view and interpret a theology of the love of God. Similarly I would prefer to stand upon the idea of the love of God in order to view and interpret justice. It is the acknowledgement that we occupy a particular viewing point, that makes questioning such an attractive and useful exercise.

For what it’s worth, I have found hope in the place of questions for which there are no answers this side of eternity. I find comfort in this from the way that the Bible leaves room for the providence of God to work outside of the construct that I and my tradition have made; the Centurion with greater faith than the religious, and the Samaritan woman becoming the first evangelist to her own tribe.

Certainty provides the comfort of believing that we can know definitive answers to deep and meaningful questions. Mystery says that the answers themselves are, as N.T. Wright (53) states, only 'signposts into a mist'.

As mentioned earlier, I was taught in my theological training that the Bible offered a systematic understanding of the world. I soon came to realise that the Bible is not written this way. When we take disconnected verses, out of their context, in order to make a systematic theology we often fail to hear the eternal echo of the true message.

This lack of system can seem strange to those who are looking for certainty but I believe it brings a freedom that often is not found in religious life. It means we read scripture to find the story or narrative that is being presented. We try to read it in context with a healthy respect for the writing style and the author's intent. In this endeavour I hope to find others on a similar path with whom I can travel.

God promised us an anchor for the soul, not certainty for the mind

Sea & Islands Post 24

Island 4

The Queen Thinks the World Smells of Magnolia Paint

The Literal Words & the Contextualised Truth

We tend to think that those we disagree with are the unbiblical ones

Some years ago I was working on an RAF base in Norfolk close to the town in which we lived. I happened to be there about a week before the visit of the Queen. As part of her tour around the base she was due to inspect one of the married quarters situated close to the main entrance.

My contact invited me to take a look at the house that had been prepared for this VIP visitor. It seemed that the RAF were keen to show Her Majesty how this section of her loyal servants lived.

The room, of course, had been given something of a makeover in order to create a good impression; new carpets, freshly laid lawn (borrowed from a local cricket pitch), and a chandelier in the lounge. In addition the toilet had been soundproofed just in case Her Majesty needed to spend a royal penny.

It goes without saying that whole house had been repainted: mostly with magnolia paint. This kind of unreality is what the Queen experiences everywhere she goes.

Each of the various hospital wards, charity buildings, factories, and other assorted venues will have been freshly painted just prior to her visit. Hence the phrase 'The Queen thinks the whole world smells of paint'. I added the word magnolia after my visit to the RAF base and the fact that magnolia seems to be the standard cover-all colour of choice for builders and decorators up and down the United Kingdom.

It is not directly the Queen's fault of course; the Palace doesn't demand cricket pitch standard lawns and soundproofed toilets. In addition, she cannot truly know what she doesn't know.

There is an emotional truth to this for all of us: people will "paint" the world, negatively or positively, in response to our presence. In this regard each of us 'smells' (or views) the world in our own unique way and we don't completely know how other people perceive things. So it is with issues of race, gender, and sexuality; we can do our best to empathise but we can only know in part.

This is additionally complicated by the fact that some of us occupy positions of privilege. As a white, western, heterosexual, male, I walk around a world that has been freshly painted to my advantage, compared to the world experienced by those who do not fit into these often privileged categories.

I recall speaking to a man in the centre of Bradford as we waited for our wives to complete their clothes shopping. He had come to Britain from Iraq during the war in that region. Apparently he had helped the British and his life had been threatened.

As we spoke he stopped me and said that, other than in the context of work, I was one of only five white people who had spoken to him in twelve years. I can know nothing of what it is to be invisible in the country in which I live. I have the advantage of being white and western; my voice is heard.

Now, in one sense, there is understandably nothing I can do about being white; without wanting to turn this into a musical 'I am what I am'. It does, however, present me with both a challenge and a responsibility.

First, the challenge is for me to acknowledge the privilege that is delivered to me often without my knowledge; to acknowledge the presence of the "magnolia paint" and to recognise that this is not the reality for the many others who are not offered such a privilege.

Second, I have a responsibility to listen to those who do not have my own kind of privilege and to become part of movement for change. When I come to engage with issues of race I must first acknowledge my position of privilege; I live in a society weighted in the favour of white people.

The popular press would like to present a different picture when dealing with issues such as immigration, but I know that my path is eased by the colour of my skin. Similarly, when tackling gender inequality, I can never fully know how it feels for a woman to deal with systemic gender bias: I have never been refused employment because of being in my 'childbearing years'.

Likewise when addressing issues of sexuality I am also privileged in that my heterosexuality is never brought up as a description of who I am.

Challenging the place of privilege, even in ourselves, is turning the system upside down so that inequality is shown for the problem that it is.

Challenging the place of privilege is declaring that in God's kingdom the first shall be last and the last shall be first, even if it costs us to do so; perhaps even if it makes us look so Christ-like that it costs us our lives.

So here I am a white, western, heterosexual, male and I admit that the world smells of fresh magnolia paint in a way that is not true for others and I am committed to becoming part of the answer.

Now when I engage in debate with a fellow Christian over some theological issue or other I need to be aware of my worldview. I am often saddened that some tend to speak as if they are coming to the text of scripture without any cultural influences. The suggestion is that we need to understand what the Bible 'actually says' and that this is possible without first acknowledging the cultural glasses we wear when we read its pages.

Please note that because I have begun a journey of trying to smell the magnolia paint in my own world, I am not saying here that my position is correct. I am saying, however, that we all, without exception, are influenced in such a way; whether we wish to acknowledge it or not.

Nobody, and I feel confident in saying this, takes the Bible literally, even if they insist that they do. We all contextualise in order to find a way of appropriating the story to our own situation.

So when the more conservative end of the church accuse me of being a slave to 'popular' culture I can remind them that this is no different to being a slave to 'unpopular' culture. Just because your influences are rooted in modernity and mine have flavours of post-modernity, does not mean that you are reading the Bible in a plain or literal way. All of us are under an influence. We all bring magnolia paint to the text: the problem is that some will not admit this.

When God became human he allowed himself to be part of a particular disadvantaged group

Sea & Islands Post 23

What if Reconciliation is Bigger than we Think?

Much of this proposes that we challenge the usual markers and descriptors of church; and here I do mean challenge rather than automatically remove them.

Evangelicalism handed to me a view of two distinct tribes that were separated by either an acknowledgement of, or an ascribing of, redemption. Some were 'saved', and by implication 'in' the church (for some groups read 'in our church') and some were not saved and therefore not 'in' the church. There was some small allowance for the journey of discovery towards redemption, but the picture was that of two groups.

In this environment there was a tendency to approach the Bible systematically; verses were assigned their place in the theological compendium that affirmed our doctrine. Whole groups of disparate verses were lumped together to form what appeared to be a definitive belief system that was not easily challenged.

In actuality, the Bible was not written in this way, but the certainty with which doctrine was preached in my own particular church background did not allow for further enquiry without the possibility of being labelled as a heretic.

Take for example, the use of Hebrews 9:20 to say that there is no such thing as post-mortem salvation:

'And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgment.'

Evangelicals have consistently used this to suggest that the moment of salvation can only take place in this lifetime. The verse does not specifically say this. The context of the surrounding verses are not directed at this issue. The only way that this can be categorically used as a proof text is when offered in conjunction with other verses in the Bible. Here is an excellent example of a systematic approach delivering a doctrinal position in a way that makes it seem that there is not another possible way of viewing this subject.

Now evangelicals may well be correct in asserting that salvation is only available in this lifetime and after death no further choices will be offered to human beings. As it happens I don't share that view, but my point here is that the systematic approach does not generally allow for further discussion. Infact, I would suggest that it ties belief up in such a way as to exclude doubt about basic doctrine.

This takes me to the nature of reconciliation. I have heard this preached on many times, but it is striking to me that the breadth of the reconciliation being worked out in Christ is seldom covered.

Read 2 Corinthians 5:14-21:

'For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them. From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.'

Now, if you will, read it again and let the words wash over you.

I am not going to suggest that I completely understand what is taking place here. The context seems to be Paul commending himself and his theology to the local group in order that his words might be accepted. In verse 10 below, we see a much ignored verse where Paul talks as if judgement is more than whether we have put our faith in Christ, although of course, this is significant too.

'For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.'

It seems there will be a day of reckoning and our actions are significant factors. Be this as it may, Paul goes on to suggest that there are two groups involved:

1) Those who have been 'given....the ministry of reconciliation', and

2) Those who 'in Christ God was reconciling ....... to himself, not counting their trespasses against them'

I feel that this is somewhat mind-blowing! In the evangelicalism I was handed, the two distinct groups of people were those who were 'saved' and those who were 'not saved'. However, in 2 Corinthians the two groups are actually those who are being 'reconciled' and, seemingly a subset of the first group, those who have been 'entrusted with the ministry of reconciliation'.

This gives the gospel such a greater sense of Good News. If you are from an evangelical background be honest with yourself and consider whether this has ever been truly explained to you.

Now we start to see how our theology dictates whether we develop church as a lifeboat or as a city on a hill. When some are saved and some are lost the church sees its role as being collectors of drowning souls or as Brian McLaren (50) puts it, the church has got involved in an 'evacuation plan for the next world' rather than looking for God's will to be done here as it is in heaven.

When we get gripped by the message of 2 Corinthians 5 we start to see that the difference is more likely to be that we in the church have found out that reconciliation has taken place whereas others have either never heard or are indifferent to the idea.

Now I don't say this to suggest that I am necessarily a universalist but to say that the work of God in Christ is bigger than most evangelicals have perhaps considered. In this economy it must surely still be possible to refuse the reconciliation offered but whether this offer is limited to this lifetime or not is surely open to question.

What if, when its all been said and done, God surprises us like he did to Jonah and has mercy upon all of his creation.

Whatever conclusion one might come to, it seems clear that the role of the church must be different from the one we have been handed. In this construct rather than being the confrontational defender of a belief system, we are the announcers and enactors of reconciliation.

Reconciliation has already been made effective; our job is to live it out for others to see

Sea & Islands Post 22

An Oblique Approach to the Vision

I have suggested above the danger of churches and their leaders being too heavily focussed upon a distinct vision. It is not that a vision is of no importance but that the weight placed upon its achievement can become all consuming.'

When a leader thinks about the success of church they will look to measure it numerically as the most obvious marker. As John Kay (48) suggests I think it would be healthier, and more productive, to look for a more oblique model; perhaps trying to identify some marginal gains along the way.

As highlighted above a heavy focus upon numerical growth means that it is all too easy to judge and value people against the mark of their usefulness to the vision. It is highly likely that growth in numbers, if achieved, will have an interesting subtext. A church could grow to five hundred people over a period of time. At a surface level the statistic looks good. If, however, further investigation reveals that in order to do that the church has had to attract one thousand people to become members this would mean that fifty percent of those who become attendees will have left.

Of course, people will undoubtedly leave during the lifetime of a church, however, it is important to consider whether the commoditisation of people in the process of achieving the vision has contributed to them leaving.

As a comparison, if one were to take the same church, and change the focus to be more holistic, would that produce a church that was smaller but that does not have the same fall out of people hurt by the vision?

Obliquity, or Marginal Gains, suggest that concentration upon the less obvious aspects leads to a better outcome.

If profit is a key performance indicator in industry, then numerical growth might be an equivalent in a church context. If John Kay is correct to suggest that the most successful companies are those in which 'the' main driver is not profit then perhaps numerical growth as a goal is equally dysfunctional in a church.

Kay suggests that when greed becomes the goal many companies are ruined by the very culture that is produced: essentially staff come to believe that greed is a positive attribute.

Could it be that when the church culture honours the vision of the leadership above the stories of the individual's, staff and volunteers find it easier to treat others in the group as commodities? If a company can make good profits by focusing primarily on making good quality equipment, or offering first class service, then could a church see growth as being the result of making people feel valuable within the community of faith?

However, this is only the starting point. Taking Kay's idea as a useful tool I believe that the church should always go further than the best standard. This is perhaps a good marker of what it means to be prophetic: offering a reminder of what it might look like if the God who values human beings so highly were present in the worshipping community.

Perhaps this is what 'leaving the ninety-nine' (49) might truly mean: even when we find a useful model like that of obliquity or marginal gains we are always willing to leave all in order to find the one who is lost.

Leaders are not called to build big churches; they are called to die to themselves

Sea & Islands Post 21

Private Evangelicalism

In my experience of life as part of an evangelical community I have noticed something of a disconnection between the stated beliefs of the church and the actions of individuals. As we have seen above this is not a static phenomenon; changes take place as people travel through different seasons of their life.

If we were to take a survey of the beliefs and actions of most evangelical Christians, I am confident we would find that the name 'evangelical' does not readily translate to a drive for adherents to either engage in evangelism or invite their friends to church.

I am not sure that in sociological terms the church is that different from other community groups in this regard. When one is a member of a group, there are all kinds of things that you personally will make allowances for; the odd behaviour of certain individuals, rules that you don't feel completely confident in vocalising, etc. You, as an individual member, put up with such things but you don't feel completely confident enough to invite others to witness such things.

This is a generalisation and I haven't had the opportunity of running a survey but I would suggest that what we have is a private evangelicalism, which itself is an oxymoron. I would suggest that most of our congregation members are comfortable to belong to the church, but would be horrified if some of the things that we believe were known by their wider friends and family.

I don't say this to apportion blame; I am in also a private evangelical many ways. It is all part of the compartmentalisation that takes place in post-modern life. Modernity offered communities of people whose lives were intertwined at many places; work, home, social gatherings, sports, church, pubs, clubs, local shops. Post-modern life means that most of us in the UK have very few social connections with our neighbours.

In this environment it means that we are likely to have several unconnected social groups, one of which is the church. This is what I mean by private evangelicalism; church is one compartment of our busy lives.

The usual methods used to evangelise one's friends often results in a loss of friendship

Sea & Islands Post 20

Where do we go from here?

I believe this to be a highly personal journey that is best done in community, through the influence biblical narrative, the teachings of the church and the witness of the Holy Spirit.

Some of my findings may well cause others to cry, ‘He’s not an evangelical, he’s a very naughty boy!’ but that is a risk I am willing to take. I am tempted to say that if some of what I offer does not raise questions, then I probably haven’t explained it well enough.

I will endeavour to discover what it means to be rooted in the historic Christian faith whilst being open to the enormity of God’s salvation story for all of his creation.

Three Phases of Church Engagement



'Without a vision the people perish' so goes the oft quoted biblical proverb. In our church experience it has been used by leaders to suggest that 'the' vision of the church leader(s), and therefore the church, is worth fighting for; it is possibly even more important than the hopes, dreams, and lives of the individual church members.

Paul Scanlon (44) , who for many years headed up the Abundant Life Church in Bradford, England, wrote in his book 'Crossing Over' about his vision of moving from their existing building to a larger complex built on their campus site. He spoke in a sermon about those who left the church during this period and used the phrase 'we lost them in the car park'.

Paul isn't alone in finding it preferable to overlook the stories of those who seem resistant to change. There are countless times that my wife and I have been at leaders' meetings and felt the surge of power invested in the delegates to return to their pulpits and join Isaiah in setting their faces 'like flint' (45) to ignore the dissenting voices in our congregations in order to fulfil our destiny: the metaphors and narratives might change but the meanings don't.

Over time we became increasingly weary of such teaching as we realised that it didn't really resonate with the picture we see in Jesus who would not only 'lay down his life' for his sheep but would also willingly leave the ninety-nine, to find the individual who had become lost.

On considering our own experiences and the stories told to us by others, we have begun to see several patterns emerge in many of the scenarios where the vision has been held up as the highest reference point for success.

Church engagement is not a single entity; it is certainly not an upward journey of increased adherence. This is, of course, true of all human organisations; I use the same model when I train business leaders, but it has particular resonance for our church context.

I would like to suggest that there exists an organisational entropy when it comes to a person's engagement to a group, community, or vision. Most of the models that I have seen explaining how to secure human engagement tend to paint a picture of an onward and upward journey towards increased adherence. I am not sure that this is either possible, or even perhaps desirable. (Fig 2. Three Phases)

I suggest that there is a three phased journey experienced within a community; as set out below.

1) Enthusiastic
2) Realistic
3) Apathetic

Each of these phases have particular narratives, drivers, and feelings associated with them.

1) Enthusiastic

In this phase the church members tend to believe in the vision expressed by the leaders. They are immune to, or choose to ignore, many of the ways in which the leaders act that cause disengagement in the other phases.

When leaders speak in hyperbole, they choose to nod in agreement and repeat the messages to new people. When they are asked 'What's not to like about this?' they cannot think of anything but a positive response.

In churches that have a tendency to be highly driven by vision there is often little room for doubt to be expressed. Sermons often contain conversation halting statements like 'You cannot out give God'. In this context any questions raised about the church tithing policy are painted as representing a lack of faith.

In addition membership, or commitment to the church vision, is conflated with faithfulness to God and so it is not rare to hear statements like 'If you are not in church you are not in the will of God'. Again this stops honesty and further discussion by placing a heavy weight on disagreement. Now you are not just disagreeing with the church, you are disagreeing with God. (See Dr. Robert J. Lifton's Criteria for Thought Reform (46) for more on this). I will mention more on this later.

There are several possible reasons why those in phase 1 find it easy to ignore what seems obvious to others. Sometimes it is because of the promise of perceived benefits to be found within churches that adopt an aspirational model. It will likely be suggested that adherence to the vision will result in the possibility of the individual's personal vision or goal being fulfilled; leading a team, speaking from a platform, playing in the worship band, or the like. The model often fails because it tends to adopt the same numbers game model used by TV talent shows. That is promise enough people personal fulfilment and a few will have the talent or gifts to make the dream a reality. These then become the trophies of success that encourage others to believe in the process.

In addition to this are other motivational factors such as the need to belong or the desire to be part of something successful. It is hard to resist the comparison with pyramid selling schemes at this point.

Whilst the individual's journey is progressing towards the aspirational goal it will be relatively easy to ignore what those in other phases have difficulty with.

Enthusiasm and adherence are fuelled, because leaders will encourage those who appear to be in phase 1 by including them in conversations, valuing their input, and involving them in what appears to be an inner circle; at least at a superficial level.

2) Realistic

I would suggest that it is almost impossible to remain in phase 1 for an extended period of time. In fact, most leaders do not reside in the enthusiastic phase even if they appear to do so.

Pete Rollins (47) speaks of this when he highlights the presence of twin, competing narratives within organisations. The headline narrative of a church, he says, might be 'God heals' but the unspoken, or hidden narrative, that most people, including the leaders, really live by is 'God heals, but if you are really sick go to the hospital'.

In the realistic stage there is a greater influence placed upon the individual from this unspoken narrative than the headline narrative. The dissonance between the message from the platform and what people see in practice becomes harder to ignore. The outward behaviour of people in this phase may at times still look like that of the inhabitants of Phase 1 but internally questions are being raised and the process of disengagement has begun.

Even so, people in this stage will still likely stay in the church. This is driven by a variety of factors. It might be that fear of rejection might hold them to the group. This in turn is fuelled by the leadership's well-defined descriptions of what is 'in' and what is 'out'. Added to this are the often pejorative descriptions of what the 'other' looks like. The implication is that other churches are not where the real blessing is to be found.

Sometimes people stay because of the possible effects upon other family members or because they may well be on church staff and so are tied financially to the vision.

Leaders, if they perceive this is happening, will tend to treat this group differently from those in the previous phase. Rather than people feeling included, they will have a sense of being 'used' to fulfil the vision. Their value is therefore linked with their usefulness to the ultimate goal.

Any signs of dissension will be tolerated because it is likely to be hinted at rather than overtly stated. Behaviour that does not fit with the standard set as the norm will be challenged from the platform.

We were in a large church a while ago and the senior leader announced from the platform that 161 people had arrived at least 2 minutes late for church that morning. The congregation were then 'encouraged' to give their full commitment to God; in essence conflating church attendance with obedience to God.

3) Apathetic

With an increasing sense of awareness of the narrative dissonance described above it is almost certain that people will find the need to disconnect emotionally from the central vision of the church.

People will have a greater awareness of feeling like a commodity in the process of moving towards the vision. Seeing others being 'lost in the car park' tends to make those who remain feel used too: How you treat those who leave has a direct effect upon those who stay.

Leaders will often ignore or even demonise those who are in Phase 3 in an attempt to create a narrative that undermines any complaints that they might raise. Once someone is painted in a bad light it is easier to ignore their voice.

Eventually, if employed, they will be dismissed. If they are a lay member, they will be discouraged from having a voice, thus making it almost impossible for them to stay. In a sense this is like the ecclesiological version of constructive dismissal in the business world. The only two choices for these people is to remain silent, but internally disconnected or to leave the church altogether.

I am not suggesting that the motives of the leaders are always in question. My wife and I have been both hurt by the construct and been part of the group doing the building. I think the wider culture of theological training, denominational fervour, and leadership teaching encourages the behaviour described.

Whether fair motives or foul, however, the result is that individuals and families are sometimes sacrificed on the altar of achieving the vision, even if we just call it 'losing them in the car park'.

Commitment to a church vision is not necessarily the same as faithfulness to God