Strapping on the Feed Bag

Some of you who are as frustrated as I am sincerely want to know how we fix this. And some of you who are upset with me want to say, “Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants, if you think it’s broken—and I’m not saying it is—how are you going to fix it?” To both of you I would say, “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions?”

With that being said, I do have a couple of ideas that we might try, as well as some kudos for the good things we do.

Let’s start with the kudos. Although I am not a big fan of short term missions trips (I will elaborate on that elsewhere), I do think that any exposure our kids get outside the walls of our churches is a plus. Whether it’s across town or half way around the globe, the experience of seeing the world through the eyes of the homeless man or the third world child is life-changing.

I do think that it is important to try and replicate and repeatedly perform these kinds of activities on a regular basis right here at home. For fledgling faith, mission trips are often like trying to drink from a fire hose. No wonder our kids come back from such outings all fired up! Unfortunately that furor fades quickly when nothing back home commands their attention and demands their hard work like being “on mission.”

Secondly, there is no doubt that our kids, of all ages, are given excellent instruction. If a kid will pay attention, he or she will learn so much about the Bible and about God from the strong teaching that they receive. Knowledge is a very good thing. Unfortunately, unlike knowledge, discipleship is not learned in a classroom or a church sanctuary. Discipleship comes from doing life together. We will save that discussion for later also.

Now, before I enumerate any ideas of my own, let me state that I think it is important that we first consider something. If we believe this, then the church should both teach and equip parents to be the primary source in the spiritual formation of their own children. And, I believe that in addition to teaching youth pastors how to be relevant to kids, our universities and Bible schools should be strategizing as to the methods to end the exsanguination of our young adults. But that must begin when they are young and proceed throughout their school years.

However, for any changes to work it would take a complete paradigm shift from the lead pastor to the parents to the earliest children’s workers. It would have to be taught from the “pulpit” and bought into by Mom and Dad. And first of all, Mom and Dad would have to buy into the idea of taking responsibility for their own discipleship, let alone for the discipleship of their kids. If you have ever heard anyone leave a church saying, “We just aren’t being fed,” then you know why we are in trouble.

I guess it’s weird that I started feeding myself as a toddler. What’s ever weirder is that I started in my teen years to question everything I had ever been taught. I tried to dig it out of the Bible for myself. But for some people, I guess their view of church is strolling in and strapping on the old feed bag.

Next we will examine some new ideas for accomplishing our purposes.

Child Ownership Fail (Nice Car!)

Once upon a time, a father bought his one and only newborn daughter a shiny new car. Cars were his passion. And since she was his only child, he wanted her to share his zeal for automobiles. He knew that she wouldn’t be driving it for some time, but he wanted her to be exposed to it from the very first week of her life. He was determined to have her to take ownership and drive it when the time came, but in the meantime he would keep it clean and ready for the day she would take it over.

From the time she was able to read, she didn’t go to regular schools; he took her to schools where they taught her all about cars. She took classes on driving, traffic laws, safety, and car maintenance. By the time she was twelve years old, she had memorized the interstate system, nationwide. She could take apart a transmission, replace the worn parts, and put it all back together again. And she could tell you everything there was to know about Henry Ford and the history of auto manufacturing in the United States.

When she turned 16, her school sponsors took her to Japan and South Korea to help her understand the durability and reliability of the well-made cars there. The next year they took her to Germany and all over Europe to meet the engineers and to see the great automobile plants of such legendary cars as Mercedes, BMW, Rolls Royce, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Bugatti, and several others you have never heard of.

In all this time, Dad kept the car clean and ready, but she had never driven it once.

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, the day finally arrived. She had spent her whole life preparing for this day. She knew everything there was to know about cars. Today, she would get to drive one for the first time. After breakfast, her dad handed her the keys and said, “Now you are ready.”

Perhaps you can anticipate what is about to happen. Before she got out of town, she was killed in a tragic auto accident. She had studied her whole life, but she had never once been given the opportunity to drive. She knew everything about cars, but she had never been behind the wheel.

This is the story of the American church and its children. We have given them knowledge, instruction, and pizza by the ton, but we have not let them get behind the wheel. We have failed our kids by withholding ownership of the gospel. Instead we have kept it clean and shiny for them and just out of reach. Instead of handing them the keys as early as possible and sitting next to them for the wild ride, we have kept the keys in our pocket.

We have tried so hard to keep them in the insulated church bubble and isolated from the real world, because we feared they might fail. We just couldn’t let them doubt or question or find their own answers. That was too dangerous. We can’t bring ourselves to let them go there; not on our watch. And by refusing to let them fail, we have also kept them from taking faith deep into their souls.

And here’s some real irony. If they did fail in spite of our efforts, we did not know what to do with them. We did not know how to show them love, forgiveness, and compassion without making it appear that we condone their actions. God will gladly take them back, but we won’t. Our church culture doesn’t allow it.

So instead of admitting that the failure of the best people in the scriptures as well as in real life is as common as rain, we have to pretend to be appalled and disappointed. And if they are leaders in the group, instead of finding ways to restore them and make them examples of God’s forgiveness and love, we make them examples of shame and humility, and we set them aside to show the other kids where sin will get you.

Thirdly, we have failed our kids by withholding the keys to ownership of the faith entrusted to us. And in so doing we can predict the car wreck that inevitably comes when they finally come face-to-face with the real world.

Parental Fail

I think everyone will agree philosophically that parents are primarily responsible for the spiritual formation in the lives of their own children. I don’t know many people inside the church who would argue with that. But if you ask the parents what they are doing in that regard, most would hem and haw and conclude with, “I insist on them going to church.” Instead of owning that responsibility, parents have abdicated their duty and willingly handed it over to the church. How do I know that?

What’s the first question a “church shopper” will ask? After they decide that the music is tolerable and the preacher doesn’t stink. The most common question is, “What do you have for my children?” Unfortunately, often what they mean is, “Will you disciple my children for me so I don’t have to?” I realize that is a strong accusation and a really broad and unfair generalization. However, if the truth were known, it would not be to far a field.

Why is that so important?

As parents we feel… inadequate, out of touch, sometimes even fearful. We don’t know how to do it ourselves. And the church’s position strongly reinforces that fear (but that’s for the next entry). So, rather than risk saying or doing the wrong thing we take them to the experts. We’re counting on the professionals to guarantee our kids’ success in following Jesus. Thus, our fear and a lack of adequate skills oblige us to hand them over to a program that seems better equipped to wow them, win them, and keep them.

Unfortunately, this is not what they need. First, as harsh as it sounds, we have failed our children as parents by not owning our responsibility to be the primary purveyor of their spiritual formation. But what about the church?

One More Question

In the last fifty years, the evangelical church has made several changes that, on the surface, may appear to have been for the better. For example, when I was in high school, the church I was attending made the decision to hire its first-ever full time youth pastor. We had a bunch of youth who were committed to God and literally meeting on our own. That couldn’t be good. The pastor and the board thought we needed oversight. Maybe we did.

I naively thought hiring a youth pastor was about the growing need in our congregation for adult leadership over a burgeoning group of devoted kids. However, now I know it is possible that we were just following the national trends. Turns out, maybe our church folded in accordance with parental pressure or perhaps in response to the competition of other churches like ours. Whatever the real reason, we got a youth pastor.

Quick on the heels of youth ministry came the specialty of children’s ministry. At Christian Universities you can get a degree in it nowadays. But the Children’s Church, Sunday School classes, and Vacation Bible Schools of my childhood were not run by professionals. There were women whose love and passions were teaching kids about Jesus.

When I think of my childhood, I can’t help but remember that group of ladies who devoted themselves to the children of our church. Their names and pictures belong beside the greatest of saints. They all seemed ancient to me then, but some are still alive today. Emma Thompson, Cecil Lawson, Cora Bickel, Juanita Emery, and a young one named Flora Mae Clawson. Those names don’t mean anything to you. But they mean the world to me.

What was it that caused even the smallest of churches to turn their attentions to the adolescents? I’m no historian or expert researcher, but I was there. I heard the conversations. All of this seemed to come from conclusions we had drawn from a famous statistic that was oft quoted to support the decisions we were making. Have you heard this?

85% of all people who come to Christ do so before the age of 18.

This seems to have been the over-arching stat of the last 50 years. So we concluded from our sacred research that we should do everything in our power to make sure that everyone under the age of 18 had the opportunity to come to Christ. Consequently we beefed up our church staffs (or is it staves?) to match the church down the street. And to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School and Children’s Church and Youth Services we added Youth for Christ and Young Life. And we held Fifth Quarter Fellowships and outdoor concerts and anything else we could think of to give every kid we could reach to an opportunity to come to Christ.

Nothing wrong with that, right? Right?

And the results of our actions continued to feed into our selected data of the Great Statistic which became our answer to the Great Commission. Except, well first of all I never knew where this statistic came from. Who did this research? Or was it merely anecdotal? Well, as it turns out, I don’t know if there ever was real research done 50 years ago that showed this to be true or not.

However, our efforts in the last 50 years or so have certainly made it a reality if it wasn’t before now. In fact, according to the latest research, the real number is that 85% of all people who come to Christ do so before the age of 14. So we have designed the majority of our church programs and started para-church ministries so that our years of expensive and painstaking efforts have become self-fulfilling prophecies.

Then secondly, what if we climbed the ladder too quickly? Isn’t there something more that our singular basket of hatched eggs begs? Up goes my hand.

“Excuse me; I have one more question.”

“Yes.”

“Why do we suck at reaching people over the age of 18?”

Ask More Questions

So, while it is important to withhold our conclusions before we have enough information, there is something we can do. But it may be too simple to be significant.

When I was in school, I was famous for being the guy who was unafraid to ask questions—especially in math classes. If I didn’t understand something, I always wanted clarification. I don’t know this for sure, but I would have bet that if I had questions other kids in the class did too. So I always stuck my hand up before we moved on too quickly.

Sometimes the answer to that question made me ask even more questions. But once it sunk into my thick skull and I finally understood it, my wife of 35 years, who was in class with me from the eighth grade on through high school, use to tell me that I would always close my little inquiry by saying, “O, I see.” (I think the implication was—now that I have grown old and have had time to think about it—that this repeated phrase became rather obnoxious: “O, I see!”)

Consequently, I bring that part of my life to this problem—both the inquisitive part and the obnoxious part. I guess I always liked to understand, whatever it was. So, I’m no different today than I was then. When it comes to the church, if I see that something is not working, I still want to stick up my hand and say, “Excuse me; I have a question.”

Perhaps this is the beginning of acquiring the help we need. I know that there will be many steps in this journey that we are beginning together, so we need to have not only a starting place but also a place to which we can return in case we stray a little off the path. But not like the inference ladder feedback loop where we return only to our selected data that reinforces what we already think we know. Instead, I think we have to wipe the slate clean and start over in the seemingly bottomless pool of available data.

But how do we do that? We have already conceded that there is far too much information. We’re swimming in data. So, being the rather simple-minded man that I am, I have tried to boil it all down to something really easy that maybe we can apply to whatever situation in which we find ourselves. It is simple, and it’s not really that profound either. Sorry.

Here it is: Ask more questions. Good questions. Obvious, right?

Maybe not. What I think I have found is that, as the church, we are often too quick to draw conclusions and then make decisions about how to proceed without subjecting our conclusions to just a little bit more scrutiny. Even worse than that. We are not likely to question anything that has become an established practice over a period of decades. Why? (There I go again.) It seems to me that it would be beneficial if we would ask at least one more question. For example…

Church-Basher?

Over the last 10 years I have done a lot of self-study on the church. I have also done some deep soul-searching. As I mentioned, some of my writings have already prompted some to accuse me of being a “church basher.” Like I have some kind of beef. But nothing could be further from my heart.

I love the church. I am a product of the church. I don’t think I was conceived there (sorry, Mom), but for my whole life it was as though I was born under a pew. And, for more than 30 years I have worked in the church. The deal is not my disdain for her but my love. Therefore, my journey has taken me on a path of reflection and concern for the results of our collective efforts. But apparently if that reflection causes other people to squirm, it would be better to just keep quiet.

Obviously, that is not an option for me. Not any more. Something is dreadfully wrong. And I can’t help myself. I have to try to understand why—why it’s not working. Why is the church growing everywhere else but dying in America? Why is there such a deep and growing divide between church culture and popular culture? Why are we so reticent to recognize our decline?

These questions and many more have kept me from sleeping well over the last 10 years. And at the risk of alienating some of my dear friends within the church, I can no longer alienate my friends without.

It’s About Time

I have taken a two year hiatus from writing. Two years ago this month, we took over the coffee shop that is on the front side of our location in the Fontana Shopping Center in Tulsa. That has been a long journey of really hard work. But it is time that I get back to the job of writing about that to which God has called us. So the following writings pick up where we left off. We were just getting ready to talk about what we have learned over the last six years or more.

In the interim, I have had the opportunity to think about how to approach our story. It seems to me that if I write it one way—with a sensitivity toward existing structures—I might get a hearing with people who are still steeped in the “church as usual” mindset. Then again, my writing so far has apparently already caused some people hurt feelings, especially those who take what I say very personally.

The other option is that I just put it out there, tell it like I see it. And while my intent is not to be obtuse or controversial, I may be too far down the road anyway to go back and remember what it felt like to hear from people like me a few short years ago.

In the last six years I have learned that too often people in the church will say and do things out of a fear of criticism from within. The way we talk, the decisions we make about relationships, and what we choose to allow others to know about us are controlled more by a fear of fellow Christians than by personal conviction. I don’t want to be guilty of that.

So as a result, I have concluded that I need to simply lay it out. Let the chips fall where they may. It is likely that anyone who reads what I write with an open mind will have already started down a path that will make them receptive to it. Anyone who cares about what I have to say will have already concluded for themselves that all is not well.

With that in mind, you have been warned.

“Send” the Indigenous, Part 3

So, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. The only reason I have used the word “send” is because it is such an important word in “Christianese” that most of us understand with regard to missions or with fulfilling the Great Commission.

*Warning! Rabbit trail!*: Along with the word “go.” We understand what is meant by “go” as well as “send.” However, both words are loaded—like so many words used in the subculture of Christianity in America.

Let’s think of some other examples: “Evangelical.” Do people who are in the church have any idea what a nasty word this is to the people on the outside? “Missionary.” Here’s a word that people outside our subculture think of as an invasion force. To them, missionaries destroy the culture and the traditions of entire civilizations, turning the people into Americanized Christian clones. (That’s not a good thing to them, by the way.) Every day the Prime Directive is being violated by well-meaning Christians. *And the rabbit trail ends abruptly before it gets out of hand…*

Okay, back to the theme. The word that is better—the one that I believe we are called to do for the “Next Generation” (another Star Trek reference)—is “empower.”

Empower the indigenous.

Some of you are asking, “Where do Bible school and Seminary fit into the mix?” And I would respond, “Where do we ‘send’ the indigenous to learn the ‘God stuff’ without overwhelming them with the ‘man stuff’?” When you find that place, you let me know, will you?

In the meantime I think we have to mentor while being “reverse mentored.” Treating them and accepting them as equals, we need to come along side the next leaders and allow them to develop their own expressions with very broad, spandex-like boundaries.

If we can control ourselves and give the Holy Spirit room to do his work, I believe that the Church of the future will naturally, organically become more like the New Testament church than it has been since the first century.

“Send” the Indigenous, Part 1

The church in which I grew up has become one of the largest missionary sending organizations the world has ever known. It was conceived and birthed in the heat of passion for going and sending based on the aforementioned Great Commission. But if there is one thing we have learned, it is that why and how one is sent is as critical as being sent in the first place.

What we have learned is that sometimes the worst thing that can happen to a country, a culture, or a people group is the invasion of what I’ll call fanatical Christian salvation guerillas. Because, the one and only message they have is salvation. So they storm the country with medical teams, food supplies, or relief efforts, in an attempt to gain an attentive ear for their message by providing for needs. Now, providing for needs isn’t a bad thing. That is very much a Kingdom value taught by Jesus. But not when the real purpose is bait and switch.

When physical needs are met for the sole purpose of creating a captive audience for a quick presentation of the Gospel, that is bait and switch. And, it doesn’t just happen in foreign countries either. It also happens in churches every week right here in the good old US of A.

Youth are baited with pizza, extreme games, celebrity guests, and fancy hangouts. Adults are baited with promises of wealth, beauty, and success, not to mention a break from their children for at least an hour. Add on top of that promises of discipleship training for every age group (as though that was supposed to be the job of the church and not the disciple).

Worse than that, the needy in our cities are promised food in exchange for a church service which they have to attend. “Free clothing” comes with a secret price tag—the cost of which is measured in enduring bad music and a reductionist salvation message. In either situation—the fancy church or the skid row mission—the problem is the same. Here it is: What you win them with, you win them to—whether it’s pizza, prosperity, or free clothes.

Now, I know that many churches and Christian organizations do wonderful things for people with no strings attached. Those groups have my compliments. But there are just as many, if not more, who use this as a “strategy.”

Last Sunday afternoon, I went to a downtown park where some friends of mine were doing a cook out for our homeless friends. There were at least 60 of us in the park that day. And although this was a first (the cookout), it was not the first time these men, women, and children had fed, loved on, and talked to many of these people. They called each other by name, and were so genuinely glad to see one another. And the food and the hugs and the football and the croquet were all paid for and given away unconditionally.

Unfortunately, some there that day who didn’t know my friends were waiting for the other shoe to drop. So when two guys got out their guitars to play some jazz and folk music, one man was overheard to say, “Uh-oh! They’re gettin’ out the guitars. Here comes the Jesus message…”

Bait and switch.

Now my friends and I had no intentions of doing anything more than feeding, hugging, and spending some time with them. But they were so conditioned to the schemes and methods they had seen so many times before that they were certain we were getting ready to “lay some Jesus on them.”

Some of my other friends who are missionaries in Asia have a name for people who convert in one of these bait and switch situations. They call them “rice Christians.” Rice Christians (whether in Asia or South Tulsa) aren’t won to Jesus, they are won to: fill-in-the-bait.

Now, so far you’re wondering how this applies to our subject of “Sending the Indigenous.” I guess what I’m wondering in my head and wandering through with the above is if we are ready to entrust the Holy Spirit with the next step. If we can trust Him to draw or to persuade the indigenous to follow him without our coercion or manipulation, are we ready to allow Him to help them to contextualize the truths of scripture for their own culture without our messing it up for them?

Before we can talk about sending the indigenous to reach their own, we have to answer the question: Are we ready to let them build their own versions of ecclesiology (church) and maybe even soteriology (salvation) that may or may not resemble our versions?

Contextualize the Message, Part 2

In his 1964 book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, Marshall McLuhan introduced his now famous line “the medium is the message.” Only the smartest people got it back then. Now, 45 years later, we can observe it every day. Just watch a television commercial. Advertisers don’t sell products, they sell cool. (Think: Abercrombie & Fitch, Mac, Starbucks.) These days, how you say it is more important than what you say.

Just to simplify, let me give you an example. If you were to hand someone under the age of 30 a cassette tape and say, “This is a really cool song,” you can be certain it will never be listened to. Not to mention the fact that they won’t have anything to play it on, the medium is so outdated that what is on it cannot be cool. The medium itself (cassette tape) screams, “Un-cool!”

Now, McLuhan would tell us that I was over-simplifying his life’s work—that what he meant was so much more than this. I get that. But this concept is no small matter to those of us who believe we have the most important message ever delivered. So it is proper that we should consider the media with which we communicate it.

It should be said that McLuhan was no Luddite. However, he was well aware of how media affect not only the messages they contain but also those who receive them. Like other educators (Neil Postman for example), he believed that technology was a force to be reckoned with. But McLuhan’s proposition isn’t just about technology. Let me give you another example.

Have you ever stumbled onto a television preacher and been stunned at the delivery? Try turning off the sound. It can be pretty disturbing. Especially if you consider that the message that is being communicated is in everything except the words. So, with the sound off, what is being communicated? That is the message—whether the sound is on or not.

One more. Let’s move to street level. I was having lunch the other day with an old friend that I hadn’t seen in 10 years. As it turns out, he carries fake $1,000,000 bills which have a salvation message on the back. (He got them from Ray Comfort and Kirk Cameron.) And he indiscriminately hands them to people he meets. I was mortified. It goes against everything I believe about connecting people with Jesus. Why? Well, what is the message being communicated? It’s not the one on the back of the fake bill.

Here’s the real message. I don’t know you. And I don’t have time to get to know you. But I have an agenda, and it supersedes common courtesy and your measly feelings. So here it is. You’re going to hell. (So sad.) But, you can change that right here, right now before some freakish cash register accident claims your life. Yes, if you will only say these words (printed here for you) you too can have eternal life. Oh, and by the way, it’s okay to feel inferior. I do have superior knowledge about what is best for you. You don’t have to thank me.

Some of you may think I’m exaggerating about how unchurched people feel about this kind of approach. I’m not. In fact, many Christians feel the same way. I have a friend who just had a t-shirt made that says: “I’m already saved. Leave me alone.” Except it says it a little stronger than that.

So, with McLuhan in the back of our heads, how do we contextualize the message for the next generation? Here’s another way to ask the question. How do we assure that the medium we use communicates the real message we want to express?

Contextualize the Message, Part 1

There is a 100 year old story (legend) told by the great Indian follower of Jesus Sadhu Sundar Singh. (A Sadhu is a Hindu ascetic.) The story is about a Brahman man—a high-caste Hindu—in India who fainted from the summer heat while sitting on a train at a railway station. Someone ran to the faucet, filled a cup with water, and brought it to the man in an attempt to revive him. But in spite of his condition, the passenger would not accept the water because it was offered to him in the cup of a man belonging to another caste. Then someone noticed that the high-caste man had a cup on the seat beside him; so he grabbed it, went out and filled it with water, returned, and offered it to the man, who now readily accepted the water with gratitude.

At this point, Sundar Singh would tell his audience that missionaries from the West had been offering the “water of life” to the people of India in a foreign cup. Therefore, they were reluctant to receive it. However, Sundar Singh was offering it in their own cup, so that they were much more likely to accept it. In other words, as an indigenous member of the Indian culture, Sundar Singh was able to offer up the Gospel in an indigenous form. Now they could understand the message within the context of their lives.

Unfortunately, the American church has mistakenly supposed that she has been communicating the Gospel in the language and the context of the culture. Perhaps, the message and methods of the early twentieth century worked back then, but for the last 50 years the strident call has been falling on increasingly deaf ears. We have not been offering the water of life in their cup. We’ve been offering it up in ours—a cup forged in modernity and revivalism, with words and idioms of a bygone era. I call it a King James message to a Stephen King world.

Meanwhile, the culture has left us in the dust, while we have become more and more culturally incestual. Some who would criticize the Amish practices of isolationist customs and behaviors are just as separatist in their traditions and programs.

The Campus Crusade tract The Four Spiritual Laws depicts a familiar picture to most Christians of an uncrossable canyon between man and God which must be bridged by the cross of Jesus. Unfortunately, before that message will be heard, there is an equally uncrossable and ever-widening gap fixed between church culture and popular culture. And it is a crevasse that must be bridged by the church.

In places and circumstances where people have been less receptive to the message of the Gospel, several scholars have tried to understand and plot the journey to faith. James Engel in his 1975 book What’s Gone Wrong with the Harvest? shares what has become known as the Engel Scale. Expanding on Engel’s work, Paul and Sue Hazelden began working on a modified Engel Scale in 2000 which is a bit more broad. It includes people who have no “God concept” at all. And, finally Frank Gray of the Far East Broadcasting Company developed the Gray Matrix that expands their work. His matrix includes not only the cognitive elements of the Engel Scale but also attitudinal aspects—a person’s receptivity to the message—on a two-dimensional model with vertical and horizontal axes.

These will not be explained here, but they can be studied separately by accessing the links provided. Believe me, they are an invaluable resource for anyone who is trying to understand the progression toward faith and how important life context is in that process. It is also a valuable tool for the church to recognize that most of its efforts will not reach to people any further away than about a negative four on the Engel Scale. And most church programs are designed for people in the “C” quadrant (higher knowledge and receptivity) of the Gray Matrix.

In part two we will include what it might look like to offer the water of life in their cup.

Learn the Language

If you plan on being a missionary, the need for learning a new language when you move to another country is pretty obvious. One can only gain minimum credibility by speaking to natives through an interpreter. Being able to communicate in the language of the people group one is trying to reach is an imperative.

Many missionaries will tell you that about all they accomplish during their first four years in a new country is learning the language. It is a worthy investment of time, however long it takes. I can’t imagine any reasonable person who would disagree with this. Nevertheless, this is apparently only applicable in ministry outside of the United States. I mean, how could there be a language barrier here in America? We all speak the same language, right?

Well, no. We don’t.

Every week in churches all over America, pastors and parishioners are practicing and expanding upon a dialect of English which is not spoken, heard, or understood by the majority of Americans. Some call it “Christianese.” Whatever we label it, it is unmistakably a “foreign” language to the rest of the culture.

The more isolated we (the Church) have become, the more idiomatic phrases and “secret handshakes” have become a part of the common conversation inside and outside the four walls of our churches. Inside jokes and exclusive language with an “us versus them” mentality pervade our speech. It’s as though insiders have the need to develop a code that isn’t breakable by outsiders.

This is just a small example, but we had an incident early on in our experience that was a reminder to us to be diligent in “watching our language.” One week, one of our leaders led a prayer. I think it was before an offering. But he ended the prayer with these words: “And everyone said…”

So, maybe two people said, “Amen.” I was horrified. That is so much an insider secret handshake. The next week we had a leadership meeting.

I used humor and approached the subject of the transgression lightly, so that he didn’t feel scolded. But the disturbing part about pointing it out in that meeting was that not one other person on our leadership team had thought about how “insider” that phrase was. They remembered him saying it, but at the time no one else thought anything of it. But the “outsiders” who were present that day had no idea what “everyone said.”

I have found that there are two things we “churchy” people need to do in order to recognize such insider language and eliminate it from our vocabularies. First, we need to remove ourselves from the source of insider speech. For example, I used to spend 7 days a week in the church. I didn’t have time to even meet an outsider, let alone establish a relationship with someone who didn’t already “know the code.” I will address this later.

Secondly, we need to immerse ourselves in the culture of those outside our circle. That I will address next.

"Missionaries" to Tulsa

Sometimes just thinking gets me in trouble. I guess it’s not really the thinking; it’s when I open my mouth about what I’m thinking. When I was studying for the credentialing process, I started wondering: Why do pastors and missionaries go through a completely different set of courses from each other? (Am I the only guy who wonders about stuff like this?) I know that the Bible materials, the hermeneutics, the homiletics, and other things are the same. But, aren’t these two considered (in most Bible schools and seminaries) different schools, or at least different departments? Pastoral ministry on the one hand and missions education on the other?

Why?

Now, I know that I didn’t go to a Bible college or a seminary, but I have a lot of friends who did. A lot of friends. Close, personal friends. Plus, I had to take a miniature version of “Bible school” at the institute level in order to become ordained. We’re talking 33 courses on everything from church history to church polity, from Roberts Rules of Order to the most basic of doctrines—orthodoxy, and orthopraxy—with a little preaching, a little administration, and a little leadership thrown into the mix. So I have a clue.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not foolish enough to think of my education as an equivalent to that of the greatest American seminaries. I am well aware that I drew the short stick there. But, I was only required to take one course on cross cultural communications and another on world religions. And according to my unscientific surveys of friends, that’s not too far off from “real” Bible schools.

In the last 10 years, I’ve done quite a lot of self-educating in the study of missiology. (Once again, the short stick, on the short bus.) And I have been surprised at what I have learned. Your experience may be different from mine. However, after a childhood of observing shaky 16mm movies of missionaries who had turned naked African “savages” into Americanized “Christians” wearing shoes, long pants, white shirts, and ties, it wasn’t hard for even a child to see what was wrong with this picture. Needless to say, many years ago I bought into a more indigenous method. At least with regard to “foreign” missions—a method that did not violate the “Prime Directive.”

But more recently, in the starting of a new church, I came to the conclusion that while this method is being used all over the world (hopefully), it hasn’t been tried in America—at least not in the last 50 years, if ever. And, with church attendance at less than 20% of the American population on any given Sunday, it might be time to appropriate indigenous mission methods on American soil.

You can take this or leave it, since I am the “short stick” guy. But I have been working on a five step summary of the indigenous method. So, at the risk of over-simplifying, here are the basics of how one might accomplish such an endeavor. I will merely list the steps here, but I will attempt to explain each one with a succeeding blog chapter.

1. Learn the language.
2. Immerse yourself in the culture.
3. Contextualize the Gospel into the language and the culture of the indigenous.
4. Allow the Holy Spirit to draw the indigenous.
5. Empower and send the indigenous to reach their own.

I don’t like the verbiage of “strategy” when it comes to the Gospel. It objectifies the “target audience” and has militaristic overtones. But, these simple steps could certainly qualify as a broad guideline and a methodology for rethinking our approach to church and to mission in America.

The Big Shift

This blog entry marks a shift in focus. Previously, I have attempted to tell of the circumstances and the serendipitous events which brought about our beginnings—our “Origin of Species.” But now I will attempt to shift the focus from the past to our current condition and methodology. No doubt I will use the occasional flashback for a better perspective on various discoveries.
I have been writing this blog for two major purposes. The first is to explain to the Agora community why and how we came to be. Every family needs to know its family tree. We know better where we are, when we know from whence we have come.
The second reason I have put this to “paper” is to report to anyone who is curious how the grand experiment is going. I see it as a way to make a more legitimate “progress report” to constituents as well as onlookers than the classic format. You see, at the end of every year, I have to file a rather detailed account of our numbers—people and dollars. And, although I agree that there should be an accountability where progress—success or failure—can be measured, people and dollars (or nickels and noses) are not the best way to do it.
I have found that the only accurate way to report progress in this paradigm is for us to tell our stories. So, from this point forward it will be an ongoing report—a telling of our stories both collective and individual.
The one thread that you will see appearing both in the larger narrative as well as the smaller ones is relationship. Everything we do is geared toward developing, maintaining, and experiencing relationship—with God, with each other, and with real people. And, it is the priority of relationship that has helped us to develop the one characteristic of Agora that flavors everything else (like salt flavors food/the earth): our culture.

Who Will Go with Us?

In spite of our assurance that we had to do this, we still felt a lot of apprehension about how to proceed. We had read a couple of books on planting churches, but we had never done it before nor had we been a part of a plant. So, wouldn’t that be like reading a driver’s manual and then jumping right into a car and assuming that I can drive? I knew one thing: we would have to have help.
First of all, Pastor Phil had given us permission to present our vision to the entire church and to invite anyone who shared the vision to go with us. Not only was this a gracious gesture, it was nearly unheard of within the circles in which we ran. But before we were even ready for that we still had some work to do. We had to figure out what this new community would look like and why. We needed more training. And we needed some people we loved and trusted to help us dream and plan and to go with us to help.
It didn’t take us very long to deliberate as to whom we would ask to come alongside us. Two couples immediately came to mind, and once we had Pastor’s permission, we asked them to pray and to consider taking this leap with us.
I have to say that I don’t know what I would have done if either of them had said no. I was so convinced that they were the ones that I probably would have had to rethink the whole thing if either of them had said no. Thankfully, neither of them did.
David and Iva Gilliam had been friends of ours for more than a dozen years. We had been through a lot together and had served together in two different churches. David has a Christian Education degree as well as a Masters of Divinity diploma. Iva is an extremely talented musician and singer and one of the kindest, most capable people I know. Besides, we really love them. And you want to share this kind of experience with people you love and with which you like spending a lot of time.
Inexplicably, Dave and Iva said yes.
Now the Gilliams are pretty close to being our age. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that we also felt that we needed a younger influence from the very beginning of this journey. If we were going to relate to the emerging generations we needed some of the indigenous on our team. So, the next couple we were compelled to invite was much younger.
Michael and Candace Marshall were leaders in the young adult department at Carbondale. I had gotten to know Mike in the ministerial training program that we had helped to start. Like the Gilliams, Mike and Candace had a definite call upon their lives and had demonstrated their abilities and their love for people. Now we were six.
Having these four people in the boat with us made the terror of it all minimally tolerable. Their yeses gave us impetus. But now we had to prepare to tell the church family about our plans, and see if anyone else would consider going with us.
O, wait! What was the plan?

Not Your Grandpa’s Church

Start a church? Really? Had I ever thought about it? Well, not out loud, but certainly I had dreamed. Maybe a better word is fantasized. However, over the years I had developed quite a stack of concerns about the modern church. Those concerns were magnified in the years I spent teaching ministerial candidates in the study center sponsored by the church. Then layer on top of that all the questions spawned by the tornado and then the subversive stuff Earl had given to me to read.
I knew one thing for sure: Tulsa didn’t need another church. There’s already one on almost every street corner, and another one pops up about every other week or so. They are as numerous and prolific as roaches.
That, despite the fact that the church in Oklahoma and across America hasn’t been growing for dozens of years. We’ve just been passing around the same people among us. Why would I want to build a church out of somebody else’s rejects? People who are disgruntled in one place will still be disgruntled when they show up at your place.
While we’re talking about shuffling people, Tulsa is the biggest of culprits. One preacher has a new revelation and builds up a big following. But then he can’t keep it in his pants, so another “man of the hour” comes along until he gets a wandering eye or an old skeleton knocks on his office door.
And church in Tulsa is big business—big names, big buildings, and big money. The smorgasbord of programs, groups, and activities makes the local churches without a doubt the largest providers of consumer services in the state. Church has become a pay-as-you-go, consumer-driven enterprise where money changes hands in exchange for “services rendered.” And those consumers (called members) have expectations.
And those expectations begin with: church is supposed to be the place where the God-stuff gets done. Where our children and youth are supposed to get discipled so we, their parents, don’t have to do it. Us too, for that matter. Disciple me so I don’t have to do that myself either.
Oh and, we need a place to discover and exercise our “gifts.” Especially the ones that the “world” can’t seem to appreciate. We need a place where we can be suckled and be healed and find meaning and purpose. And if we don’t feel we’re getting our money’s worth, we can move on claiming we weren’t being fed.
After I pondered all of this—all things I had experienced or witnessed—I concluded that if I was nuts enough to go through with it, there would have to be a major paradigm shift. Not just in the thinking but in our whole approach to “doing church.” If we decided to do it, it would not be; it could not be my grandpa’s church.

Everything Changes

Everything started to unravel the day Darryl told us he was taking a hike. He had been asked to return home to the church (First Assembly of God) in which he grew up in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. He had already seen from his experience with Phil and me that you can “go home.” It was explained to him that this was an opportunity to eventually become the pastor, because the senior pastor there was getting ready to retire. That’s a whole other story that I’ll let Darryl tell.
However, Darryl’s leaving meant the death of the “Dream Team.” It was a great nine year run. But, as they say, “All good things must come to an end.” For me, it was the end of a very good thing.
With all the stuff Earl Creps had put into my head, with Darryl’s departure, with major staff modifications, and my own growing discontent with the “status quo,” it was inevitable that things would come to a head. To Phil’s credit, he recognized it for what it was.
A staff disagreement over changes that were being made, some not for the better and I had a melt down. This could have gone a lot of different ways, but Phil saw what was happening. He called me in one day, and we sat down and talked like we had so many other times. When “stuff” happens, like it always will, it really helps to have a mutual respect and a sincere love for one another.
We talked about the church. We talked about the stuff we were reading. We talked about the changes and the clashes.
He said to me, “You know, I’ve been doing things this way for a long time, almost 30 years. And I don’t think I’m ready to change everything. Because that is what it would take.” He said, “But I’ve heard you say so many times, ‘If I ever pastored a church… I’d do this or that.’” He told me, “Plus, you know how much I love this church and all of its people, many of whom would have to be dragged through this kind of change.” And then he added, “But what if you did it? What if you started something new based on the stuff we’ve been reading? What if you planted a new church and we helped you?”
I was stunned. Was he serious?
What’s really interesting about all of this is that before I ever came back to Carbondale, Phil and I started talking about planting a church some day. In the late 80’s, inner-city churches were the cool thing to consider. So we had talked about that. In fact, the youth pastor before Darryl had left to plant an inner-city church in Oklahoma City. But, up until then, I had never thought about it being me. And I don’t think either of us could have anticipated that it would be this kind of church.
I left his office that day with my head spinning. I had said, “Are you serious?”
He said, “Yes, very serious. Go talk to Vicki, pray about it, and then let’s get back together and talk some more.”
So I said I would.
Almost immediately the wheels started turning. I wasn’t sure where it all was coming from. I started talking about the culture of a church and its core values over programs and doctrine. This was long before I read about it. I started thinking about the failure of preaching to achieve any appreciable change in behavior. And I started asking what a church would look like and feel like that would embrace all who walked through its doors.
From before the beginning, the seeds were planted that would become Agora. But there were still several steps to be taken and more questions to be asked before we discussed anything as drastic as a launch date.

Associate Pastor of Music

I told you earlier that when the tornado hit, we did a lot of soul searching and rethinking as a church and particularly as a staff. We had time to think about what we were going to do when we got our newly reconstructed building with twice the space as before. We evaluated our strengths and looked honestly at the potential that was there.
Finally we decided that one of our strengths was our great staff relations and the talent that was contained therein. Phil, Darryl, and I were at times the three musketeers, the three tenors, or the three stooges, depending upon with whom you talked. We evaluated our strengths individually and collectively and looked at the giftings of the congregation as a whole. As a result we decided to do some restructuring.
We decided to change our titles to reflect a more unified and balanced pastoral approach. Darryl and I would both be associate pastors. And we decided to play to our individual strengths. Mine was music. And the giftings of the church as a whole included an incredible amount of musical talent. So I became the Associate Pastor of Music, and I took over the entire music program.
Darryl was the Associate Pastor of Students. And we let Phil keep his title as Senior Pastor.
Eventually we added Mike Atkinson to play the straight man. Not that he wasn’t really quick, really smart, and really funny. He was. And is. It’s just that we needed someone who could handle the business side. The three choleric sanguines needed a melancholy to balance us out. He became the Associate Pastor of Administration.
I really didn’t ponder it for very long, but I did wonder if I had been demoted. I decided quickly that it didn’t really matter. I was having a blast. I enjoyed the new challenge of a stellar music ministry. So I just put my head down and broke into a full sprint.
We had so much talent. In fact, while we were still at VBI, the orchestra would rehearse on Sunday afternoons. I had nearly 30 instrumentalists. One day the music guy from Victory came by to sit in on our rehearsal. We were a church of 500 people with an all volunteer orchestra of nearly 30 by then. While he had a handful of musicians in a church of 10,000. He was flabbergasted.
I could have been satisfied to stay there for a long time to come. But then came that Earl Creps guy and another tornado. Not a wind of destruction this time, but a wind of change.

Three Churches

During the time when we were all reading the subversive materials that Earl Creps (Motto: “With a name like Creps, it’s got to be good.”) recommended to us, we talked at intervals about what we were reading. Finally one day, Pastor Phil said, “You know, I’ve done things this way for almost thirty years. I can’t see me changing everything at this stage of the game. Besides, I love this church and its people. This is home. It’s where I grew up. I just can’t bear the thought of what such a change would do to so many of them.”
I had to agree that it would take a huge paradigm shift and a painful and bloody battle to turn such a big ship at full speed. However, we did think it would be nice to see some different churches and how they operated. Maybe we could tweak things a bit. So, I was given a short sabbatical in the month of June 2004 in order to visit some churches that we thought might be able to teach us something.
I called a couple of friends who are well traveled, told them what we were doing, and asked them where they would recommend that I go. Besides a couple of places locally, we decided to go to three churches: New Life Church in Colorado Springs, Fellowship Church, and Prestonwood Baptist, both in the metro Dallas area. Thus, on two different weekends in June of 2004, my family and I made the trips to Colorado and to Texas to observe and evaluate what we saw and heard.
Now, keep in mind, I was still the associate pastor over music. So, I was primarily going to check out the music programs as well as going to assess the overall church experience. We had very little idea of what to expect. But, each one of the experiences blew our minds.
New Life Church was a well oiled machine. It was big and still growing. They were building their current sanctuary while we were there. The music was great; the preaching was above average. But the two things that impressed me the most were the small group concept and the large umbrella concept under which each of its different congregations operated.
New Life was, at one time, several different congregations meeting at different times with different pastors. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, Saturday nights, and each of the age group churches (youth, young adults, kids) were given equal standing. And, it seemed, that little care was taken to see that they overlapped each other. Whether or not it was that way behind the scenes, was not clear.
Prestonwood Baptist in Plano, Texas was huge! The sanctuary seated thousands. The choir loft alone seated 350 people. That’s twice the size of the average church. Its gargantuan size alone made it worth seeing. But, here again, I saw the multiplicity of ideas at work.
During the Saturday evening service we attended, under the same roof, but far enough away from the main sanctuary and parking lot, there was a wedding taking place in their “small” 400 seat chapel. Other than our curiosity and our roaming after the service, we would never have known that something so significant was going on in another part of this giant edifice.
Finally, we saw Fellowship Church (just seven miles from Prestonwood) in Grapevine, Texas. (Yes, just across the highway from the huge outlet mall.) Its pastor, Ed Young, is something of a celebrity. He writes books and gets asked to speak all over the place. Not many people start a church and within 10 years have 14,000 people. I have no idea how big it is now.
What I saw there that I took home with me was the relevant teaching and the visual message that the whole experience was. It was the first time I had ever been in a church where the two main speakers sat in big leather chairs and had a conversation in front of the whole crowd. Blew my mind.
When I went back to work after three or four weeks, I had a report prepared, but I wasn’t sure who to give it to. I knew we were never going to go there. So what was I supposed to do with all of this mind-blowing information?