Thriving as the People of God

In the last several days, I have seen a few blog posts that have said things about the church to the effect of “we have to stop being afraid, and start moving forward, but I'm not sure what the answers are/ the answers are complex/ I had answers but the dog ate them.”

Goodness knows, I'm sure I don't have all the answers either. It's not like I've gone out to hard places and planted thriving churches. But I guess I'm a little tired of no one even positing answers. And so, in no particular order (other than the first one), here's my stab at the answer(s) of how we're going to plant and grow thriving churches.

1) I must unashamedly preach Jesus, both to myself, and to others. Jesus says hard things, and it is all too easy to soft-pedal them. He says hard things about being wealthy, but somehow I allow myself to dream about being rich. He says hard things about having an exclusive claim on the truth, but I try not to talk about that among my pluralist neighbours. He says hard things about death being the path to greatness, but somehow I still dream about that big book I'm going to write. He says hard things about sex, hell, money, and politics, but somehow, I am still tempted to try to convince myself that I can dial his call on our lives back to “loving people.” Most of all, he says hard things about a wild and unimaginable grace that I don't deserve. He tells me that I'm not good enough and never could be, but that he always has been, and always will be.

2) I must be passionate about this thing that I say has changed my life. Am I as passionate about Jesus as I am about keto, essential oils, or Dungeons and Dragons? Do my conversations spin back to the things of God, not in a contrived “super-Christian” sort of way, but just because it overflows from a deep well within? If I let myself think in terms of “getting myself ready to share my faith,” then I am treating my faith as an external thing to myself and not an integral part of who I am.

3) I must be part of de-politicising the church. I will have Conservatives/ Republicans in my church. Their fiscally conservative nature is not heretical. I will have Liberals/ NDPs/ Democrats in my church. Their love of social justice and social programs is not heretical. And we need each other, far more than we realise. I worry about a world where no one is concerned that the budget balances. I shudder to think of a world where no one champions the rights and needs of the disenfranchised.

4) I must love the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner in deep, meaningful, tangible ways. I must not wait to hear about needs: I must look for ways to do good.

5) I must keep myself from being polluted by the world. If I don't demonstrate an alternative to what the world has to offer, I'm not sure why anyone would want to join me. And yes, sexual purity is on that list. It's a problem, even in the church – perhaps especially in the church, given the kind of people we are called to be. But it's not the only thing on the list:

a) Am I humbler than the world? The first to step out of the way, the first to sit down and shut up, the first to admit wrongdoing? Am I quick to ask others about who they are and what their lives are like, or do I just wait to jump in and talk about myself?

b) Am I gentler than the world? Do I truly consider the feelings of others? Do I take seriously the hurts and the sorrows of others, even when those hurts and sorrows lead them to decisions that I don't understand or can't agree with?

c) Am I more joyful than the world? Do I live like someone who walks in triumphal procession with Jesus? Am I fearful of “where the world is headed” or “young people these days”?

d) Is my speech different from the world's? And no, I'm probably not swearing, but that's such a small part of “wholesome talk.” Do I always have to say things to make me seem cool or clever? Does my biting sarcasm hurt people and drive them away?

6) I have to be ready to shoot my dog. If my preferred method of worship, or evangelism, or church ministry doesn't win people to Christ, or doesn't grow them into the image of Jesus, am I prepared to kill it? If I love street preaching, but it offends people and drives them away, am I ready to stop and look for a new way to proclaim the gospel? If I love four part harmony, but such singing is no longer a cultural norm, am I ready to relegate it to a yearly “old-fashioned hymn sing.” If I love apologetics, but what keeps people from faith isn't intellectual objections, am I ready to leave that behind? If I love discipleship groups, but people respond best to one-on-one settings, am I prepared to invest that extra time and energy? At the end of the day, these things are all tools. And while I may enjoy working with some tools over others, the priority must always be the good of my project, not my preferences.

This is where I'm supposed to write some deep and thoughtful conclusion. I'm not sure that I have one this time, except to exhort us to be creative, not to be afraid to change, and to disciple ourselves to the God who will do anything at all, up to and including his own death, to bring wayward people back to himself.