What Are the Questions?

If you are bothering to read this, then you know the kinds of things writers and speakers come up with, including those who think nothing should change. Some argue for a collective model of relational community where justice reigns and we all live like the book of Acts describes with “having all things in common.” Some suggest a postmodern, emergent model that will make room for the angst of the generations of young people and adults alike who have no room for absolute truth. Others suggest the house church model where we find accountability and acceptance in a double handful of close-knit relationships.

Still others advocate a multi-site, multi-plex, mega marvel with thousands in attendance in locations all over town, or even all over the globe. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that any of those are not valid expressions of the church. What I am so afraid of is that whatever our solution is today, we will have a single choice of one of only two options: We will either institutionalize our current solutions into just another tradition among so many, or we will find our solutions temporary at best.

With something as universal and as all-embracing as the gospel, do we need to have it nailed? And if we do nail it down, won’t it fall off within ten years anyway? In a culture where the latest technologies and advancements are passé within a few years or even a few months, do we need to have it carved into stone tablets? Or do we need it written on our hearts which are pliable and open?

What I have observed in our community is that not all answers apply to all people. What I have observed often in the larger church world is that we are answering questions no one is asking any more. So, not only do the answers change, but maybe the questions change on a regular basis too. If that is the case, then what if we’re asking the wrong questions?

Now I have a friend who wonders if “wrong questions” even exist. He asks, “Aren’t all questions good questions?” In my experience, no. As mentioned before questions that no one else are asking may be useless. Also, it depends on when and where you stop asking and start answering. What if your assumptions with which you begin are skewed? Won’t that lead us to ask wrong questions?

For help here, it would be wise to look at the Ladder of Inference developed by author and Harvard Business School Professor Emeritus Chris Argyris. You can watch a short video of the concept here. Or you can read about it extensively here or here.

I will try to summarize it. But do some research for yourself. It will be important that you understand this concept as we journey together.

“What Do I Do Now?”

“May I speak with Earl Creps, please?”
“Yes, may I tell him who is calling?”
“Yes, Jeff Taylor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Will you hold please?”
“Surely.” (I know. Weird, but that’s what I always say.)
(Pause.)
“This is Earl.”
“Earl, my name is Jeff Taylor. You don’t know me from Adam, but I heard you speak a while back in Branson at the Oklahoma Minister’s Retreat.”
“Yes, Jeff.”
“Earl, I want you to know that I’m totally screwed up now, and I want to know what I’m supposed to do about it.” (Long, silent pause.) Once I realized that he probably thought I was a crank, I hastily added, “And, hey! I mean that in the best possible way. I just need to know what I ought to read or what you would recommend that I do now.”
I could swear that I heard him lightly exhale.
Obviously relieved, he said, “Well I can recommend to you several books and a couple of websites that you might check out…”
We chatted some more. I don’t remember the rest of the conversation. But I do remember the books he recommended, some names he gave me, and at least one of the websites. Since I was new to almost all of this, he led me to resources I could put my hands on that would help explain some of those words and phrases he used in his teaching: Postmodern, post-Christian, emerging church, and others.
From the beginning, I was like a thirsty man desperate for a drink. I couldn’t get enough.
Some who are following the story have asked about the response of others that day. Looking back, I am still astonished by the lack of response to Earl’s message. It was obvious that everyone there realized the truth in what he was saying. However, I was a ticking time bomb, and Earl lit my fuse. No doubt I was waiting for something that would explain the restlessness in my heart since the tornado. So, without realizing it, I was prepared like no one else in the room that day for what he shared.
The staff I was working with at the time was also affected by it. We talked at length. We even read some of the books and talked about how we might integrate the information into our church. I’ll let you in on the progression of that conversation a little bit further on.
I wish I could tell you that the tectonic plates shifted and we immediately made plans to put this new information to work for us and for Tulsa. But we were too steeped in our Modern model, and there were more events to come, some good, some really bad, before a new model would emerge.

Three Chairs

As a church staff member, we were privileged to be sent to several functions every year that were intended to be valuable to the church’s ministry as well as beneficial to the individual minister. One such function was called “Minister’s Retreat.” It was designed to be a casual time of teaching and fellowship with other ministers.
In 2003, Minister’s Retreat was held in Branson, Missouri. And the special speaker was a man named Earl Creps. I had heard him before in another capacity, so I knew that he was a great communicator. But this time I had no idea what was in store. We had survived a tornado. Would I survive the personal earthquake I was about to experience?
Earl spoke about three chairs. Now there was some other really good stuff, a scripture, a series of alliterative words, and an encouragement to “live and let live.” But the three chairs will always be with me.
In each chair he seated a volunteer: a sixty-something, a forty-something, and a twenty-something—all pastors. Since this was a casual affair and in order to further clarify the illustration, he gave the older man in the first chair a tie, the middle chair man a polo shirt, and the young guy a ball cap. He said that these three pastors corresponded to the three different styles of churches.
The church represented by the man in the tie, he called the traditional church. Maybe not in the same way you might think. Although he said it was usually skewed older—builders primarily—and had its inheritance from the past. He compared this church to the television program “Gunsmoke.” He said that most everything for them was black and white. He also compared them to the church in Jerusalem—the founding church. And, that they believed they would always be the only way to do things. But then they had children.
The church represented by the man in the polo shirt, he called the contemporary church—primarily boomers. He said that 60% of the churches out there fall into this category. He compared it to the television program “Frasier” and to the church at Antioch. He said that these churches were based on models created pragmatically by peers. So whereas the traditional church looked to the past, the contemporary church looks to each other. It is characterized by scripted Sunday morning productions and values similar to the traditional without the wherewithal to live it out.
Finally, Earl came to the third chair. I had no idea where he was going. He began talking about the children of boomers. (I have three of those.) He used terms like emerging church, experimental church, postmodern, and post-Christian. He talked about a generation of the tattooed and the pierced. He said that it was a church characterized by the passion, energy, zeal, and idealism of its people. He compared them to the television show “Seinfeld” and its vacuous existentialism. He also compared it to the church in Spain referred to by Paul in Romans (Romans 15:28) and pointed out that we have no record that Paul ever made it there. But, Earl said that this was the indigenous church of the 21st century.
I had never heard of it.
Listening back to a later version of this talk, I am amazed at how mild and non-threatening the message was. The podcast on Earl’s website was recorded several years after I heard him speak, so he may have tempered it based upon his audience. But when I heard it, it rocked my world.
I went home from Branson and lost sleep and more hair. I didn’t know what to do with the information I had been given, but I knew who would know.
I called Earl.