More Thinking About Church

"Dad, I'm a wine and cheese girl in a beer and pizza town."

-My daughter Beth after moving from Charleston (SC) to St. Louis

I've called this blog "More Thinking About Church" because I think obsessively about the church, and this blog is more thinking about it. These thoughts grow out of a sense in the last few years of not quite belonging to said institution, and yet very much belonging, a paradox based on having trouble with different church structures. Anyway, I had an epiphany the other day, which some of you may choose to call a duh moment. I realized that during my lifetime I have experienced not one, but two types of church structure, and as I have begun to unmuddle them, I have reached, if not enlightenment, at least some degree of peace.

Constitutional Model

The first of these structures I want to call the "constitutional" church, meaning a church based on a traditional denominational system of theology, usually in written form, to which the leaders (clergy) owe allegiance, and of which they are representatives. This form covers a wide range of traditions. A Roman priest who is saying mass is not merely an individual who claims to be hearing directly from God; he is a representative of the whole weighty 2000 year history and dogma of Catholicism, and while he may express personal opinions, his primary vocation is to be an agent of the authority behind him. Likewise a Presbyterian pastor is (or used to be) a faithful spokesperson for Calvinism and the Westminster Confession. When I use the term “constitutional,” I therefore mean a church in which the tradition, history, and doctrine of an ecclesiastical body is more important than the vision or personality of its clergy. Normally constitutional leaders are trained in the theology of their respective denominations, biblical languages and exegesis, preaching, liturgy, and pastoral care and counseling, all of which are to be applied in the context of a higher allegiance.

A historic outgrowth of the constitutional church is (was) the parish model of church organization. In the parish system, one man shepherds a local congregation of laymen which is small enough for him to manage, and large enough to support him financially. He is not too concerned about church growth because it is accomplished by creating new parishes rather than expanding the membership of the local church. The priest/pastor knows his flock. He preaches, teaches, administers the sacraments, marries and buries its members. He knows his people, is in their homes, and is unhurried enough to sit on the porch and talk to brother Hobart about his wife, his kids, his job, his political and social concerns, and the weather. He does all this in the name of the Bishop, Presbytery, or Convention, and incarnates their invisible presence. This does not mean, however, that he is micro-managed. Within denominational limits, he has the autonomy to apply Scripture and doctrine to the needs of his particular congregation. His people are as much his study as Bible and theology. He is very much a man in the middle.

The greatest strength of the parish system is its sense of security, warmth, and longevity, based on the shepherd-sheep relationship. People in a parish church know their priest/pastor.

There are some problems, however. One is that when the shepherd-sheep relationship is broken, contention arises, because there are personal commitments involved. Barna tells us that the average stay of a second pastor in a Protestant church is about 18 months. He is already doomed because he is not number one. Pastor number three generally does well, because he is not number two, and is perceived as a healer after the turmoil blamed on number two. (I know some wise Baptist pastors who covet the number three spot.) The problem here is not personalities, but the system.

A second problem is staleness and resistance to change. Security resists spiritual renewal. This is often connected to what is happening in the general culture, and I will come back to that later.

A third problem occurs when there is a shift, inconsistency, or hypocrisy concerning the constitution of the larger body (in doctrine or practice). This has been an issue in the major Protestant denominations for decades. The result is contention and restiveness in local parishes. It destroys the sense of security and often sets parishioners at odds with their clergy. In this case unrest flows into the church from the top.

Fourth, mentoring of younger potential leaders is weak. This is because promising candidates for ministry are trained in denominational seminaries and sent to other parishes. Therefore, future ministry in the parish seldom comes up from the grass roots.

Apostolic Model

I have tried hard to avoid this term, but I am going to persevere with it. By "apostolic" I am in no way connecting it to Jesus Only Pentecostals, nor to Catholic apostolic succession, nor to "continuing church" Anglicanism. I am using it in the modern charismatic sense, describing a church founded and led by a highly gifted individual with a passion for renewal and a vision for what the church should and can be, with a capacity to gather followers who are infected with the same vision. We might call this individual an ecclesiastical entrepreneur, but I'm sticking with "apostle."

Apostolic churches are usually large and intend to keep growing. They are generally committed to multiplication by division; that is, as they grow they create sub-units or campuses which are themselves large by the parish standard. Leaders of sub-units are directly connected to the founder, and represent his vision. Leaders are consequently raised up within the local church structure, and mentoring is much more important than in the parish model. The most serious problem with the apostolic model is obvious. It centers on the vision and energy of one man. If he is solid doctrinally and ethically, the church will be. If he is in heresy, the church will be heretical. Consider the number of churches of this type that emphasize self-esteem, positive thinking, and faith as a metaphysical force to which God Himself must submit. Powerful leaders produce powerful ideas. Thank God for a handful of apostolic churches that are rooted in Reformation and/or evangelical mainline understanding of the gospel.

Another problem in this type of church is more subjective: Stress. Apostolic churches are by nature entrepreneurial, which means they can never sit still, but are always on the way somewhere, readjusting, and honing their vision. There is the underlying assumption that the Kingdom of God can always be done better, and that the church in time and space (read: parish model) has failed. Being a loyal member can be exhausting.

A third problem results from the large size of most apostolic churches: pastoral care. Leaders in theses churches are often stretched too thin, and the everyday shepherding of individuals (the strength of the parish model) suffers. The solution to this problem is generally small groups or house churches, overseen by laymen who have had some training, but not at the level of a parish priest or pastor. That means that there is no one in leadership who exactly fits the old role, and an unspoken (or forgotten) question is, “Who exactly is my pastor?”

A Balance?

Is there a way to combine these two structures? I personally don't think so. At least, not in any given time. But over time, there is a definite balance. Jesus mentored twelve men, who in turn mentored others. The expansion of the New Testament church was based on the mentoring principle. But within a generation, Jesus' mentorees were writing what became the constitution of the new movement, and it became the foundation of the early church parish system. The Reformation saw the rise of what I am calling "apostolic" men, and again, within a generation there were a host of written Confessions that became the basis of the Lutheran, Reformed, and Baptist churches.

Safe, secure, and prosperous times in a culture will support the parish system. Insecurity and the collapse of a moral consensus in a culture will see the rise of Christian entrepreneurs. I was raised in the parish system and trained in it. I would much prefer to sit on the back porch sipping lemonade, and looking at Hobart’s corn crop and the homes of his children on the edge of his land. But Hobart today is a different man. He is working two jobs to stay in the middle class, his wife has a home business, his son is struggling with his sexual identity, his daughter is in treatment for oxycodone addiction, and in place of the corn field is a new sub-division.

The culture is in foment, and the church follows. It is exhausting, and explains the exodus of a number of evangelicals to “high” churches, especially Orthodoxy. I know the tug, and the desire for peace in the storm. It reminds me of my favorite Joseph Sobran quote: “It is exalting to belong to a church 500 years behind the times, and sublimely indifferent to fashion; it is humiliating to belong to a church 5 minutes behind the time, huffing and puffing to catch up.” But culturally, we seem to be in an apostolic time.

But, oh, I do miss the old parish system in which I grew up, predictable and secure.

Church on a Hill

Every day on my way to work I pass an intriguing little church with a name I can never get straight, but it has to do with cities and hills. Last night I checked out their web site. Near as I can tell, the pastor went on a 40 day fast, after which he determined that while there are churches on every block in our county, there are none on a hill. Blocks=bad; hills=good. I realize that this is metaphorical. At least I think so. Where I live a church on every hill is a challenge. Anyway, there was no doctrinal statement, but some rather good stuff about the state of our nation and the failure of the church to accomplish something, the something which this little church is apparently going to pull off.

I have no doubt that the church in America is facing crisis. Call me paranoid, but here at home we are moving from legal discipline for hateful acts to prosecution for hateful speech, to prosecution for hateful thoughts. "If you don't repent and believe the gospel, you're going to spend eternity in hell" is pretty dang hateful in a humanist culture. Not to mention that radical Islam is on jihad and with modern communications and weaponry our oceans are no longer a protective barrier.

But enough paranoia. Back to the church on a hill. Granted that the church is divided and weak, is this constant urge of Christian leaders to be Nehemiah rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem really the answer? Please understand that I'm not standing outside to criticize. I was once set in as pastor over the “church in the city,” a roll that was absolute hubris, especially considering my youth. That phase came and went, and was replaced, I hope, by some degree of not just humility, but reality. I react to the little church down the road because I’ve been there.

There seems to be what can only be called an insane desperation among those who contemplate the “state of the church” to repeat the same method that we’ve been trying for years: reject the blocks and head for the hill. Do it one better. Does anyone notice, by the way, that all the hill churches are now on blocks?

So I lay in bed last night contemplating the state of the church, and finally turned to prayer. I think I was hoping that the Lord would say something like, “Start a Bible study in your home. I will give the Word through you such power that within six months all the block Christians in the county will be sitting enthralled in your living room.” No way. All I heard was, “Get low.” How low? How ‘bout this? “No, lower.” Check this out, Father! “No, lower.”

There was only one unbearable conclusion to this: the block Christians are better than me. Pride gives me multiple reasons why I am more special to God, more enlightened. The very thought makes me less. They don’t need to be replaced; they need to be served. From below. Maybe that’s the way up the hill.

Kodak Roads

Since I have not blogged for a while, I felt I needed to catch you up with an insightful and penetrating analysis of our community, just in case you're wondering....

They've changed the road signs in my part of the county to make them readable, and also to inform me that I live on or near a Sevier County Scenic Highway. Hmm. I guess that means that the Dam Store will soon be on the National Registry of Historic Sites. The Dam Store is the last northbound place on highway 338 to get beer, cigarettes, and minnows before the boat dock at Douglas Lake.

The roads here mean what they say. Richardson's Cove and Jone's Cove Roads really do go to coves, and roads named for hollows go to real hollows. Boogertown Road goes to Boogertown, and Boogertown originally had a booger--not of the nasal variety, but a real ghost. None of this suburban nonsense where a road in the middle of Kansas is named Mountain View, or a lane in upstate New York has the moniker "Cactus Flower." I do recollect that there is a road near here on the south side of the French Broad River that is named Something or Other Beach Road. There are no beaches on the French Broad. No surf either, although there is a reasonable substitute. If you go for a swim when the dam opens the spillways, you can be in Knoxville in ten minutes.

That brings me to the name "French Broad." It means what it says. The French were in this area at one time, and the River is broad. It has nothing to do with a hefty mademoiselle named Antoinette who indulged in some questionable behavior in the vicinity of Rosman, NC, where the river originates. Only tourists snicker at the name. We know better.

But I've wandered from the topic of Sevier County roads. Douglas Dam has such a hold on the local psyche that every road north of the river is Douglas Dam Road. It covers most of Kodak. Since Sevierville has split Kodak, there is a Douglas Dam Road East and a Douglas Dam Road West, and there are Douglas Dam Roads that connect East and West Douglas Dam Roads, and intertwining them all are several Old Douglas Dam Roads. At least there are no Mountain Views or Cactus Flowers.

I know this is a bit confusing, so let me back up and give a brief geography lesson. Sevier County is about 30 miles east of Knoxville. The southern third of the county is in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, which creates an interesting legal issue. A kid who is caught smoking pot in Gatlinburg will be put on county probation and help clean up the local roads (probably Douglas Dam Road). But if he walks the 25 yards into the Park he will be picked up by FEDERAL agents and his case will be heard in a FEDERAL court. None of these stories end well.

But I digress. The center of the county is a tourist Mecca down a north-south highway known as 66, 441, or just plain Parkway. Everything on either side is quiet and green, so a 200 yard drive from the mess is a different world. The northern part of the county comes to a point, and I-40 runs through the tip. The French Broad cuts this northern section off and forms a triangle. Kodak is in the middle. Actually, it used to be Henry's Crossroads, and there was kind of skirmish with the Indians there. In 1892 the local postmaster changed the name to Kodak, after the camera, because it was easy to remember and spell, which was apparently a great boon to the locals. Recently there has been a move to refer to it as "Northview," under the influence of the same kind of people who named a road in New York "Cactus Flower."

Anyway, back to the postmaster. Over a period of time Sevierville grew and began to cherry pick up highway 66 and extend the City along that road for 200 yards on either side. If you are having trouble with this concept, I refer you to a quote by Abraham Lincoln, who, when he learned that southern ports would secede with their states, cried out in a cabinet meeting, "But where then will I get my revenue?" This is not a political statement, but an attempt to dignify the decision of the Sevierville fathers with a quote from a president. You are by now wondering about the postmaster. Well, when Sevierville cherry picked, it split Kodak in half, and the Kodak post office is now in Sevierville. This is obviously some kind of sign that Kodak, postmaster and all, should not have messed with the name. Henry's Crossroads, by the way, is about a mile west of highway 66, and from the looks of it, would never have been cherry picked. But it does have a nice historic marker about the Indians.

Because Kodak (we're stuck with the name) was north of the river it was isolated from the rest of the county. Before cars and bridges, people in Kodak had to use one of two ferries to get to Sevierville. I think they were considered as outsiders or weird cousins by the residents south of the river, because the attitude still exists. In fact, it is more widespread. You will not find our name in the Bell South phone book. Knoxville, yes; Sevierville, yes; but not a soul in Kodak. The local Smoky Mountain phone book carried us for a while, but no longer. I don't think this is deliberate; they just don't remember that we're here at all. Until billing time. Kodak has been saved from total isolation from the rest of the world by e-mail and social media.

Oh, back to the Kodak post office which is really in Sevierville. This is not an unusual phenomenon in Sevier County. The Gatlinburg-Pigeon Forge airport is in Sevierville, the Gatlinburg golf course is in Pigeon Forge, and the greatest attraction in a temperate forest environment replete with bears and other wildlife, is a salt water aquarium. Not to mention that the straightest, flattest boulevard in the county is named after Dolly Parton. Well, it does have scenic highways.

Agape Love

"...make every effort to supplement...brotherly affection with love ('agape')...." 2 Peter 1: 5, 7

In the last devotional we looked at Brotherly Love. This week we will finish up Peter's list of Christian virtues in 2 Peter 1: 5-7 with an analysis of "agape" love.

While we might expect a definition of "agape" to encompass a deeply emotional, personal kind of love, the classical meaning of "agape" is based not on emotion, but on reason. It means a reasonable attachment, choice, and commitment to a worthy object. To the Greeks, it often meant the respect we show to a man's office or reputation. If that is the correct definition, then it is possible to love someone we don't like. Matthew describes this possibility in chapter 5 when he says, "But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven."

Christian writers have attempted definitions of "agape," such as self-sacrificial love, selfless commitment to the well-being of another, the "love that consumes," or the "highest form of love." But these fall short. If we take the classical meaning, we have to say that "agape" love is based on seeing something greater or higher than a person himself: something that defines him and gives him worth outside himself. That means that love is a mandatory principle or reality (1 John 4: 20: "If anyone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar." Love for the higher includes the lower.)

The "higher" is of course the love of God in the gospel. If God loves me and my brother, and we both love God, then I have no choice but to love my brother. Or to use gospel language, if you are chosen by the same God, washed in the same blood, and indwelt by the same Spirit, I must manifest the same love for you that God does for me. At an even deeper level, I must look past your faults and mine to what God intends us both to be. CS Lewis somewhere stated that if I could see a fellow Christian as he will be ten thousand years from now, I would be tempted to worship him. In light of the future, and the glory of God, our unwillingness to love one another is trite and meaningless.

In what directions does "agape" love manifest itself? The most obvious direction is our love for God (see Deuteronomy 6:5). That is because God is His own higher principle. God by His nature as Creator and Sovereign is worthy of love, not to mention His role as Redeemer. The unredeemed are incapable of this love; only those with changed hearts both make peace with God, and find that they love Him.

Another direction of "agape" is God's love for us. One hard question with which theologians have occupied themselves is whether or not God is in some sense obligated to love us. On one hand, we have to reject the idea that we are innately lovable. The Bible portrays us as depraved rebels under God's just condemnation. Any love that God shows us is unmerited and gracious.

On the other hand, Genesis 1:26 teaches that we are made in God's image. That passage, taken with Colossians 1:15, defines that image as the Son of God Himself. The Son is the model that God used when He created humanity. While God does not necessarily have a stake in us as beings, He does have a stake in the Son whom He loves, and no doubt desires to renew the broken and marred image of that which He loves most.

The fact that we are in the image of God (the Son) affects our love for one another, and beyond that, compels us to love the unbeliever. Even though sin has distorted the image of God, it is the source of value in every human being and calls for our respect and love. God's image in that case is the "higher principle."

This is the last in a series I've done for devotionals at work. Hope they've been helpful. At present I'm working on a book on spiritual discernment with David Keyser that's taking up a lot of time, so I may be scarce for a while, at least in blogdom. More later. -Rick

Brotherly Affection

"Make every effort to supplement...godliness with brotherly affection...." -2 Peter 1:7

"Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor." -Romans 12: 9-10

The term "brotherly affection" is a combination of two Greek words. One is "phileo," which comes from the word for "friend," and means love at a friendship level. The other is "adelphos," meaning simply, "brother." Together they form the Greek word "philadelphia." When William Penn named the city he founded in Pennsylvania, he hoped it would always manifest that attribute.

"Philadelphia" therefore means brotherly, friendly, familial affection. This is the kind of love that the sisters of Lazarus had in mind when they sent word to Jesus, "Lord he whom you love is ill." The term is often used as the love the Father has for the Son (John 5:20), but is rarely used of the Father's love for us (see Revelation 3:19). We are never commanded to love God with "phileo," with one exception (1 Corinthians 16:22). "Agape" is the preferred New Testament word for love between God and man (we will look at that later).

"Philadelphia," as CS Lewis pointed out, is usually based on a common interest. In the Christian church, the togetherness of brotherly love centers around worship, prayer, study, and caring for one another's hurts and joys. It presupposes transparency and openness to one another with a degree of honesty--with Christ Himself as the focus that holds us together.

Brotherly love is most often warm, cozy, and familiar. It seeks out those who hold things in common with us, and is intensely comfortable. As an aside, we need to remember that there is a higher love, one that dies for the unlovely and cares for the uncomfortable--but I am spilling over into a discussion of "agape."

As I have been doing, let's ask how this virtue affects the one before. What would godliness be without brotherly love? This is a very important question, because at this point in Peter's list of virtues, a shift occurs. Up till now the virtues are inner, personal, and subjective. Godliness can exist in an isolated Christian heart. But with brotherly love, the emphasis becomes corporate. Brotherly love cannot exist outside a broader community. So simply put, godliness without brotherly love would remain a subjective matter that could not express the life of God outside self.

What about the reverse? What happens when a Christian attempts brotherly love without first learning godliness (humility)? Obviously, such a Christian enjoys the affection of others without the capacity to return it, and remains self-centered. He can enjoy the warm fuzzies of fellowship, but isn't equipped to deal with the situation if love is challenged or disturbed.

Next: Agape love.

Godliness

(From devotionals at work)

"The vision of God is the source of patience, because it imparts a moral inspiration. Moses endured, not because he had an ideal of right and duty, but because he had a vision of God." -Oswald Chambers

"... make every effort to supplement your...steadfastness with godliness..." 2 Peter 1: 5-6

The next word in Peter's series of Christian virtues is godliness. The Greek word is "eusebeia," a combination of the word that means "well" and a word that means the correct worship of a deity, as opposed to false or hypocritical worship (see 1 Timothy 6:3-8). In classical Greek it could mean reverence, piety, loyalty, or religion, and in that culture could be addressed to parents and those in authority as well as to the gods.

In the New Testament it is best translated "proper reverential awe and fear" (see Hebrews 12:25-29). It is our response to both His raw power in creation and in nature (His "bigness"), and the fear of His displeasure (His judgment and wrath). Eusebeia comes from the realization of who God is, and of His sovereign control over our lives. The immediate result of godliness in our lives is humility. Its posture is to bow and confess two simple things: "You are God." "I am not."

Proverbs 14: 27 says "The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may turn away from the snares of death." 1 Timothy 4:8 states, "For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come." These verses point out that godliness is not purely negative, but is also a source of life--on the premise that the more we fear and humble ourselves before God, the more He responds to us and exercises His life in us.

Godliness follows patience in Peter's series, so we have to ask what patience would be without it. This amounts to asking if the processes God puts us through to grow us would ever bear fruit if not culminating in humility. To experience those things that produce patience without ever bowing our heads before the majesty and plan of God would only produce bitterness. We might say with Job, "I am a laughingstock to my friends; I, who called to God and he answered me, a just and blameless man, am a laughingstock." Note, by the way, that Job's response was entirely different when he encountered the power and love of God at the end of the book.

Lastly, let's reverse this. What would it be like to pursue godliness without first learning patience? If patience produces character, without it we would be offering God a fake and hypocritical worship, an artificial spirituality not based on suffering or experience.

Next time: brotherly love.

Steadfastness (2)

(From devotionals at work)

"...and make every effort to supplement your self-control with steadfastness...." -2 Peter 1:5-6

"I waited patiently for the Lord; He inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. " -Psalm 40:1

Last week we defined steadfastness, or patience. Remember that Peter did not list the characteristics in these verses arbitrarily. Each builds on the other in such a way that the former is the foundation of the next, and the next after provides a vision. With that in mind, let's think about the relationship of self-control and patience.

What happens when we try to practice self-control without patience? Simply put, the struggle against temptation becomes purposeless, because the character that patience produces is not a goal, and our lives become a series of battles with sin, and more often than not, a series of failures. Because the end of patience is hope, without an awareness that God is trying to work patience in us, our struggle as Christians seems hopeless. Paul was encouraging the Corinthians to patience when he said, "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison...."

What about the reverse? What happens when we attempt to learn patience without first learning self-control? In short, we are trying to fulfill a vision without the proper tools. If we can't overcome short-term, we certainly can't learn to hang on to a vision long-term.

Without a foundation of self-control, the attempt to be patient will cause us to give up in frustration, complain, or try to shortcut the circumstances. Remember that Christ's greatest temptation was to by-pass the will of the Father (which included the cross), and take His legitimate Lordship without suffering.

Next week: godliness.