Musings — Yancey on the US (3 of 3)

(Conclusion)

Toward Greater Faith in Things That Last, and Toward More Long-Lasting Understanding . . .

The New Testament seems to introduce a major shift:  God is now working not primarily through nations, but through an invisible kingdom that transcends nations.  Jesus stressed the kingdom of heaven as the central focus of God’s activity on earth, a kingdom that permeates society so as to gradually affect the whole, like salt sprinkled on meat. . . .

Projecting myself back into Jesus’ time, I have difficulty imagining Him pondering whether Tiberius, Octavius, or Julius Caesar was “God’s man” for the empire. What took place in Rome was on another plane entirely from the kingdom of God. . . .

It appears the church and politics may be heading in different directions.  The more I understand Jesus’ message of the kingdom of God, the less alarmed I feel over that trend.  Our real challenge, the focus of our energy, should not be to Christianize the United States (always a losing battle) but rather to strive to be Christ’s church in an increasingly hostile world. . . .

As America slides, I will work and pray for the kingdom of God to advance.  If the gates of hell cannot prevail against the church, the contemporary political scene hardly offers much threat.

- Philip Yancey, Finding God in Unexpected Places (1995), pp. 99-101

Again, I am concerned by the country’s denial of God, to whatever extent that has occurred.  When foes of God appear, I am sincerely offended.  But I am exceedingly more concerned by individuals’ denials.  The reign of God exists in the human heart, not in political hallows or in the institutions of religion.  The reign of God, unlike any denomination or nation, is forever.

Now, “to be Christ’s church in an increasingly hostile world”!

Musings on Yancey, the US, and Muslims (2)

(Continued)

Toward Greater Faith in Things That Last, and Toward More Far-Reaching Understanding . . .

I have for many years wondered about the Muslim use of the word “infidel.”  It has seemed to me that Muslims call this word into service ineptly, because one can only be a perpetrator of infidelity if he has ever asserted loyalty in the first place.  Since I have never asserted loyalty to the Muslim concept of God or to their religious system, I surely can not be aptly labeled an infidel.

Further reflection, though, causes me to wonder about the de-merging of what are often called the world’s three great faiths.  It is not as though I believe, or in any way support, the inner or outer workings of Islam or Judaism, but I do understand that we have common roots. From the Muslim’s perspective — and here I must acknowledge that I have never thought this through before — Jews and Christians must seem to have become disloyal to God during the course of history.  For the Muslim, Moses was a prophet, and Jesus was a prophet, but Mohammed was the prophet.  (Compare this to the Mormons and Joseph Smith.  This is NOT beside the point.)  For the Muslim, Mohammed was the fulfillment of what had gone before, and anyone who rejects Mohammed rejects it all.  One who rejects Mohammed is, for them, an infidel.

In my meanderings, I have encountered quite a few people who have repudiated, to one degree or another, various ideals and practices of the American Restoration Movement.  It is rarely difficult for me to accept such a person’s pathway, since I myself have picked and chosen — as I see this Movement lining up with, or disagreeing with, scripture.  But when a person summarily rejects the Movement, that person may aptly be labeled an “infidel” to that Movement.  (This person is very difficult for me to trust, I might add.  When one has understood certain inalienable truths, principles, and scruples … and later rejects them wholesale, he seems like an infidel to me.)  Today, I think that I understand a little more of the Muslim’s idea of infidelity.

Muslims are right, of course, about the rampant materialism in the western world. (While many of them have little clarity around their own weaknesses at times, they are right in this area about us.)  That soldiers in the Gulf war were required to ascend to Muslim moral code, living without alcohol and Playboy (Yancey, p. 92) should tell us something.  And yet materialism and worldliness are mere symptoms of the greater evil.  If we have denied the supreme, holy God, that is the foundational sin.

Have we denied and rebelled against God?  Why, yes, we have.  I am concerned by the country’s denial, to whatever extent that has occurred.  But Yancey rightly probes, “Does God really judge the United States or any other country as a national entity? . . . God is now working not primarily through nations, but through an invisible kingdom that transcends nations.” (p. 99)

And I am exceedingly more concerned by individuals’ denials — yes, including my own.  The reign of God exists in the human heart, not in the institutions of religion; and the reign of God, unlike any denomination or nation, is forever.

Musings on Yancey, the US, and Muslims (1)

Toward Greater Faith in Things That Last, and Toward More Far-Reaching Understanding . . .

For better or worse, I’m more a watcher of politics in the last half-dozen years than in any other period of my life.  I am persuaded that this watching has done very little, if anything, for my life or for the lives of others, but it is what it is.  Political stuff will be what it will be, too.

This morning, not having any idea it would be a Friday for deeper pondering, I was reading more of Philip Yancey’s 1995 thoughts in his book  Finding God in Unexpected Places.  And I was again struck by the prevalence of politics- and religion-related assumptions by Americans, and by professing Christians … yea, by most humans.  We need to be careful with high-sounding assumptions of the present, drawing instead from something less time-bound.  Hear Yancey’s quotation of Shakespeare and his one-sentence commentary punch:

In Richard III, a hired assassin trembles before his assignment, fearing “Not to kill him, having a warrant, but to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.”  And in the Henry VI, the Earl of Warwick prays, ” . . . ere my knee rise from the earth’s cold face, I throw my hands, my eyes, my heart to Thee, Thou setter -up and plucker-down of kings.”  Our leaders could use a dose of such humility.

It’s been quite a while since I felt a U.S. president exhibited much humility.  Perhaps Clinton, when he called in a team of spiritual advisers after the Monica Lewinsky affair?  (Or maybe that was mere posturing — who can say?)  My fading sense of Pres. Reagan was that he had at least a few humble bones.  Both parties’ candidates these days would do well to show some humility along the way.

Yancey also speaks of lasting purpose and belief in the hereafter:

In one of the great ironies of history, Islam has co-opted the word martyr.  Early Christians prevailed over Rome because they opted for eternal rewards instead of mere physical survival.  The blood of the martyrs was the seed of the church. Nowadays you hear very little talk in the west about eternal rewards and much talk about techniques to keep death at bay. . . .

“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul,” Jesus cautioned.  And again, “It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.”

Could Islam have more of a “biblical” sense (albeit skewed) of the eternal reign of deity than does popular Christianity?  The Islamic “Fanatical Fringe” (thanks, Mr. Yancey) possesses an inexplicable willingness to die, leaving this temporary world, while we in the West persistently place our eggs in the ephemeral world’s basket. Despite my abhorrence of (and, yes, fear of) Muslim extremism, I can admire absolute devotion to a cause — to what some Muslims hold as the over-arching raison d’etre.  They are willing to lose their physical lives for a religion they believe lasts longer.

To be continued . . .

Ekklesia values 6 (leadership and hierarchy)

Continuing in the “Church Values” stream today, and extrapolating a bit from the nondenominational, nonsectarian ideals  now.  My ideal church will employ

==> Non-hierarchical leadership

and is

• mutually pastoral in terms of ministering to one another

and uses no

• no extrabiblical (or reappropriated biblical) religious titles.

In the NC scriptures, I see contraindications of positional authority in the church.  Put negatively, I see no hint that there were, or were to be, hierarchical leaders.  Positional leadership is ubiquitous in churches these days–seen most starkly in such figures as the pope, but lived out in virtually every church I’ve ever been with, known of, or read about.

If we must have the “pastor” as a role, understood as most Christians understand that job today, let us at least not have “senior pastor.”  “Lead pastor” is more functional than positional, and I would rather see that modifier than “senior.”  In the eyes of some, as I’ve come to understand it, Timothy and Titus may have filled precursors of the modern-day pastor role.  But this is an assumption, an inference; it’s not particularly explicit.

In the CofC grouping, we tend to believe and write one way, and live out our polity another way.  If we really believe elders are pastors are shepherds are bishops, well, let’s do church that way.  Let us not have our preachers/ministers/evangelists in charge of everything.  Let us not conceive intellectually of an upside-down pyramid with elders at the top.  And by all means let us not live as though it’s a regular pyramid with the minister at the top, the elders in the middle, the deacons at the bottom, and everyone else referred to as “you” instead of “we.”  And, by the way, let us avoid the perception that eldering/pastoring happens primarily in the humanly invented institution called the “elders’ meeting.”

Although I’ve been taught it all my life, I’m not sure the NC scriptures really equate the bishop (episkopos) with the elder (presbuteros) with the pastor (poimein).  These may be describing similar, overlapping, but not identical functional roles.  Perhaps the ideal is more fluid than many of us have come to understand:  could it be that Timothy was primarily a functioning evangelist, and there were no deacons or elders or head “pastor” in Ephesus, while Titus was more of a “lead pastor” in Crete?  And further, could it be that

• the churches in Galatia had neither a head pastor nor elders
• the groups in Corinth and Colosse and Laodicea had several poimenoi each, like most CofC groups, and
• the church in Rome had none of the above, because they had an apostle?

It deserves mention that the early church in Jerusalem appears to have been led by few apostles/elders, and James the brother of Jesus seems to have had executive influence (see Acts 15).  The Acts 6 precedent leads us to select servants to fulfill needed tasks–giving rise to modern-day “deacons” (same word as “minister,” by the way).  Let it not go unnoticed that deacons have jobs to do.  There is no deacon, biblically speaking, who simply has the title but no designated function in the local church’s work.

Nashville’s Belmont Church (which has Restoration Movement roots but left any real association behind years ago), at least at one point, separated its elders by function.  Some were executive, and some were pastoral (caring for sheep).  Some were paid, and some were not.  This devised arrangement made some sense to me, given that no particular hierarchy is specified in the scriptures, and given the size of that particular church.  But when all’s said and done, it’s more important that people not attempt to assert or exert authority based on position or salary.  Given that we are not in the apostolic age, spiritual authority should arise naturally, along the lines of relational, respected influence.  It should be invited by people, not inflicted on them.  “Having authority,” by the way, is different from “acting authoritatively” or “being authoritarian.”

In sum:  my church won’t obviously deal in positional leadership.  Not that there won’t be leaders.  There must be leadership, and leaders will emerge naturally!  But it will not be because of some mail-order license, or a degree-granting institution’s blessing, or a denomination’s “call” (whatever that is).

Leaders serve, their leadership is respected as an outgrowth of their service, and ideally, they begin to have spiritual influence because of recognized insight and genuine relationship.  Leaders are marked by service to humankind, beginning with the household of faith, in the name of God.

No gifts, please

Sometimes I’m caused to wonder how certain people took on certain roles in certain churches.  (If anyone from my church is reading this, I’m not talking about anyone there specifically!)  Is desire the only qualification to lead?

It’s almost as though we discourage consideration of true gifting in selecting church leaders at times — perhaps thinking it contributes to elitism if only the quote-unquote gifted lead in church.  Why not just let the common person, “everyman,” do it?  Then it will be more “real,” dude.  More people can relate to it if it doesn’t seem as if the leader is any better than you, right?

Incidentally, two Pauline passages, combined with church history, appear to point to male spiritual leadership in certain church activities.  Women generally do the tough stuff in churches like caring for crying babies, fixing food for potluck dinners and families in need, and deep-cleaning the restrooms.  But if a man is to be considered an active Christian, it is assumed that he will at least sometimes lead publicly.  When I say “lead publicly,” I am speaking primarily of leading musical worship, leading congregations in spoken prayers, reading scripture, and teaching groups of adults.

I would like to affirm here that not every man (or every person, if you prefer) is by nature a public leader. Some have more natural giftings in these areas than others.  And I think churches ought to recognize these capabilities when choosing leaders for the assembly.  Those who actually can lead should be entrusted with those roles!  (Did that really need to be said?)

It is not becoming for men with speech impediments, obvious nervousness, or overwhelming shyness to be used regularly in public roles.  It just doesn’t work.  These non-gifted men dread speaking publicly at all, and they are perhaps are pushed into it by the momentum of legacy.  And the whole church (those who aren’t asleep—or falling in that direction) is embarrassed when publicly inept men are paraded, week after week, in front of crowds of saints in the pews.  We’re eager for the stumbling reader to be finished, and of course, we hear no voice of God in the reading, because we are focused more on the stumbling than on the content.  We couldn’t hear the mumbling prayer anyway, so it was a waste of time.  Or the halting manner of speech was distracting.  Or the monotone voice was flat-out boring.  Or the pitch of the song was a half-octave low, or two steps too high, and the sopranos screeched, and the teenagers giggled, and everyone knew that the worship leader had no idea what he was doing.  Which begs the question of why he was doing it in the first place!

These less publicly “ept” people are not lesser Christians, of course. They just have different kingdom areas in which they should be working.  Perhaps the problem is our inordinate emphasis on assembly roles, over and above other roles.

It might take a paradigm shift of royal proportions to make non-publicly-gifted men, their wives, and all who respect them comfortable with their not being asked to lead publicly.  I don’t expect to see this shift in my lifetime—even if Jesus does not return before I’m eighty (which I hope He does)—but hey, I’d love it if I were wrong.