Kris and I watched a documentary film on Saturday night about the closing of a 125 year old church in SW Minnesota. The film, Delafield, examines the economic and cultural shift in the late nineties in the heartland of America and the impact that it had on a particular rural faith community. The film is very well done and I would recommend it (and we have it to share if you would like to watch it).
Two things struck me during the film. The first, was a scene in which three young girls were playing around a support pole in the basement of the old country church. As their elders sat around tables laughing and enjoying a meal; these three children danced quietly around the pole with one hand on the pole (their feet near the base) and their other hand swinging freely. It was a powerful scene as you wondered how many generations of children had done the same thing on the exact same pole in that church basement. The second thing that struck me was a woman who had to be in her eighties or nineties telling about the fact that the church was originally built without a basement and that it was added later. This was a major event for the congregation as it provided more space for community gathering which the film depicted marvelously with the centrality of food and fellowship in community life.
This was the backdrop for our visit to the Upper Room last night where Brian McLaren talked about Jesus and his love of a good meal with friends and foes. It is remarkable to me (although it shouldn’t be) that within the Upper Room community there are 400 plus people who are involved in their meal groups. Wow! Every night of the week across the entire Twin Cities metro this community meets. God at work in the world.
As I consider what God is doing in developing missional faith communities it seems that we are being called back to our heritage as a church basement people. A people who are linked together in community that dares to come together to care for one another and share with honesty and openness who we are and what we have been given.
“And they devoted themselves to the apostles teaching, to fellowship, to breaking of bread, and to prayer.”
Acts 2:42
Monday, January 29, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
on earth as it is in heaven
Being a part of a church is all about connections. Connecting to one another, connecting to what is going on in the world, connecting to God.
A place that reflects the values of the community. A community where you know that your children will be taken care if you are out of the room. And a place where they will be included in the life of the group.
The whole it takes a village thing. We can’t live in isolation. We need a community that reinforces the hopes we have for our children.
For 10 weeks last summer we gathered in small groups in people’s homes to discuss our hopes and dreams about what church could or should be. The three quotes above came out of some of those gatherings. What I realized during those meetings, with over 100 people and in 11 different homes, is that God has a dream for his people; a dream that the Holy Spirit has written on our hearts.
Our challenge (the gift we have been given) is to live into that dream. Our calling is to allow the kingdom to come through us and in us as we engage the world together. Oh I know that this is a broken world and that the kingdom will not be fully realized on this earth until our Lord returns. But it is our call nonetheless, to live a life together with Christ at the center, that reflects God’s dream of peace and love in the world.
On Sunday evening as I watched a woman lovingly hold the child of another mother who she did not know four months ago, I felt like God’s dream was being realized among us. As two young boys took the hands of two toddlers and walked them around like they were best buds, God’s dream was being realized among us. As we passed a brown sandwich bag around and collected money to purchase Bibles for children of God who find themselves in prison, God’s dream was realized among us. As we prayed over the bookmarks that our children had made to place in those Bibles, God’s dream was being realized among us.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven.
A place that reflects the values of the community. A community where you know that your children will be taken care if you are out of the room. And a place where they will be included in the life of the group.
The whole it takes a village thing. We can’t live in isolation. We need a community that reinforces the hopes we have for our children.
For 10 weeks last summer we gathered in small groups in people’s homes to discuss our hopes and dreams about what church could or should be. The three quotes above came out of some of those gatherings. What I realized during those meetings, with over 100 people and in 11 different homes, is that God has a dream for his people; a dream that the Holy Spirit has written on our hearts.
Our challenge (the gift we have been given) is to live into that dream. Our calling is to allow the kingdom to come through us and in us as we engage the world together. Oh I know that this is a broken world and that the kingdom will not be fully realized on this earth until our Lord returns. But it is our call nonetheless, to live a life together with Christ at the center, that reflects God’s dream of peace and love in the world.
On Sunday evening as I watched a woman lovingly hold the child of another mother who she did not know four months ago, I felt like God’s dream was being realized among us. As two young boys took the hands of two toddlers and walked them around like they were best buds, God’s dream was being realized among us. As we passed a brown sandwich bag around and collected money to purchase Bibles for children of God who find themselves in prison, God’s dream was realized among us. As we prayed over the bookmarks that our children had made to place in those Bibles, God’s dream was being realized among us.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
blue cloud abbey
I have been out of town the last two days at a retreat for leaders who are involved in new mission development and redevelopment of existing congregations. We were at a Benedictine abbey in Marvin, South Dakota. It was an interesting place, set up on a hill in the middle of SD prairie. If you have ever spent time on the prairie you know that there is a unique spiritual energy on the prairie; quiet, expansive, sometimes powerfully windswept and other times remarkably still. I spent ten days last January at a retreat center housed on a farm in SW Minnesota and this experience harkened me back to that time on the prairie.
The retreat itself was a good opportunity to check in with some other folks about what is going on in their particular contexts. But we had a great time riding to and from the retreat. I rode out with the mission director for our area, a woman who is in the process of developing a new Christian community in the basement of a bar in the Crystal/Robbinsdale area, and a man who is working to develop two faith communities in the larger Hispanic communities in West St. Paul and on the Eastside.
On our way out to the monastery, we stopped at the mission director’s mother-in-law’s home in a small rural community along the way. Her hospitality was genuine and warm and she made sure to write down all our names so that she could share our visit with the local newspaper. On our way home, we stopped in Willmar and visited a ministry partner who has done Hispanic ministry in the Willmar area and is now a chaplain at a senior center.
Both stops really got me thinking about the connectedness of the Body of Christ in the world and the power of hospitality. I think we often limit the scope of our reach in our own minds as we self limit our sphere of influence to our own congregation, community, or personal relationships. The potential to reach deeply into other communities is profound if we loose the notion of our ministry and mission and instead embrace the notion of God’s ministry and mission into which we are called to participate.
As we were saying our goodbyes on arriving back to the Twin Cities; Juan said to me “Remember now, your new church already has a Hispanic ministry in St. Paul.” Welcomed as a co-worker in mission by a man I did not know 48 hours earlier. Or did I already know him? Do you already know him?
The retreat itself was a good opportunity to check in with some other folks about what is going on in their particular contexts. But we had a great time riding to and from the retreat. I rode out with the mission director for our area, a woman who is in the process of developing a new Christian community in the basement of a bar in the Crystal/Robbinsdale area, and a man who is working to develop two faith communities in the larger Hispanic communities in West St. Paul and on the Eastside.
On our way out to the monastery, we stopped at the mission director’s mother-in-law’s home in a small rural community along the way. Her hospitality was genuine and warm and she made sure to write down all our names so that she could share our visit with the local newspaper. On our way home, we stopped in Willmar and visited a ministry partner who has done Hispanic ministry in the Willmar area and is now a chaplain at a senior center.
Both stops really got me thinking about the connectedness of the Body of Christ in the world and the power of hospitality. I think we often limit the scope of our reach in our own minds as we self limit our sphere of influence to our own congregation, community, or personal relationships. The potential to reach deeply into other communities is profound if we loose the notion of our ministry and mission and instead embrace the notion of God’s ministry and mission into which we are called to participate.
As we were saying our goodbyes on arriving back to the Twin Cities; Juan said to me “Remember now, your new church already has a Hispanic ministry in St. Paul.” Welcomed as a co-worker in mission by a man I did not know 48 hours earlier. Or did I already know him? Do you already know him?
Monday, January 15, 2007
jacob's well
Here are few thoughts about our trip to Jacob’s Well that resonated with me and were realized in our family’s experience. Jump in and comment on these or post your own thoughts and reflections by clicking on the word comment below this post. I would also invite you to read the story of Jesus at Jacob’s Well (John 4:1-45) as it is an important story as we partner together to engage the world in Jesus’ name. Anyway, here are some random thoughts.
The way that the man holding the “Homeless” sign on the off ramp on 46th street laid the groundwork for the entire experience. Our daughters (and us too) were forced to confront their (our) culturally-shaped teenage suburban understanding of need and want, have and have not, and answer the question 'who is my neighbor?'
We were surprised by the energy that we sensed before we even entered the building as we were greeted by the sign and the flags.
I was intrigued by Greg’s comment that the school is a beloved part of the community and this relationship (community to school) is a benefit as they use the same space to engage the same community. What does this say about what we should look for in space?
I liked hearing the comment that picking up garbage together was a meaningful part of knowing that the community was going to be about “doing ministry” together. How does this theme play out in our community?
If I slow down enough in my life to allow it to speak to me, a ping pong table will speak to me about relationships next time I see one.
I might actually have to tune in to Desperate Housewives and watch an episode. Or not.
How great it was to see the band afterwards at the restaurant and know that what happened during worship was laying the groundwork for how those who gathered would relate to one another and those they meet in their communities, their work places, their schools, and the places they (we) frequent in the coming days.
The way that the man holding the “Homeless” sign on the off ramp on 46th street laid the groundwork for the entire experience. Our daughters (and us too) were forced to confront their (our) culturally-shaped teenage suburban understanding of need and want, have and have not, and answer the question 'who is my neighbor?'
We were surprised by the energy that we sensed before we even entered the building as we were greeted by the sign and the flags.
I was intrigued by Greg’s comment that the school is a beloved part of the community and this relationship (community to school) is a benefit as they use the same space to engage the same community. What does this say about what we should look for in space?
I liked hearing the comment that picking up garbage together was a meaningful part of knowing that the community was going to be about “doing ministry” together. How does this theme play out in our community?
If I slow down enough in my life to allow it to speak to me, a ping pong table will speak to me about relationships next time I see one.
I might actually have to tune in to Desperate Housewives and watch an episode. Or not.
How great it was to see the band afterwards at the restaurant and know that what happened during worship was laying the groundwork for how those who gathered would relate to one another and those they meet in their communities, their work places, their schools, and the places they (we) frequent in the coming days.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
links and thinks
I have posted some helpful links for us as we dig into this business of being followers of Jesus Christ who are sent into the world on his behalf. One of the links (Friends of Mission) has some really good material, some of which I pulled out and posted below. Give it a look over. Dance with it a while. Maybe you will embrace it or maybe you will find it out rhythm with how you see the world. I would be interested in hearing your reaction, either in person next time we see each other or via your comments on this blog. Peace, joy and wonder.
Some Thoughts on being a missional Church from Friends of Mission
Some Thoughts on being a missional Church from Friends of Mission
- A missional church understands that God is already present in the culture where it finds itself. Therefore, a missional church doesn't view its purpose as bringing God into the culture or taking individuals out of the culture to a sacred space.
- A missional church is evangelistic and faithfully proclaims the gospel through word and deed. Words alone are not sufficient; how the gospel is embodied in our community and service is as important as what we say.
- A missional church will align all their activities around the missio dei -- the mission of God.
- A missional church seeks to put the good of their neighbor over their own.
- A missional church practices hospitality by welcoming the stranger into the midst of the community.
- A missional church will see themselves as a community or family on a mission together. There are no "Lone Ranger" Christians in a missional church.
- A missional church will see themselves as representatives of Jesus and will do nothing to dishonor his name.
- A missional church will be desperately dependent on prayer.
- A missional church gathered will be for the purpose of worship, encouragement, supplemental teaching, training, and to seek God's presence and to be realigned with God's missionary purpose.
- A missional church is orthodox in its view of the gospel and scripture, but culturally relevant in its methods and practice so that it can engage the worldview of the hearers.
- A missional church will be a community where all members are involved in learning "the way of Jesus." Spiritual development is an expectation.
- A missional church is a healing community where people carry each other's burdens and help restore gently.
Monday, January 8, 2007
sent into the world- allowing God to find you
So the assignment seemed pretty simple, go into the world on a Sunday morning and allow God to find you in a new way outside the walls of a church building. You would think as a pastor that I could accomplish this with my family; I mean if I am asking someone else (the new faith community that I am leading) to do it, I should be able to pull it off. Right?
So the day began with our ten and twelve year old girls in a dispute over territorial possession of the bathroom with each of them pleading the present and past wrongdoings of their sibling as they argued their position on opposite sides of a locked bathroom door. Their father promptly reminded them that the door had hinges and that it could simply be removed so that they could both enter and exit freely in perfect harmony from now on if they wished. This solution was met with a sigh and roll of eyes that I had seen too many times before. O, the joys of parenting.
With everyone set to venture out we sat down to do a family devotion together. 2 Corinthians 5:17-21 seemed appropriate. A little discussion about what it means to be reconciled to Christ and one another would seemed to be good idea. I mean, I thought this was a good choice because since they were locked on opposite sides of the bathroom door, they could not read the picture hanging in their bathroom that reads “Sisters make the best friends.”
As we began the Bible study our ten year old said, “Dad, wouldn’t it be easier to just go to church?” Now I must tell you that I expected this response from some of the folks who I was asking to carry out this experiment of being sent into the world. But my own daughter? Ten? Isn’t it amazing that at 10 years old she is already becoming entrenched in a pattern of thinking that equates God talk and action with a church building? Wow.
Well, the Bible study went reasonably well. (By the way, Oxford American Dictionary’s definition of reconcile which we looked up in the course of the devotion: to restore friendship between {people} after an estrangement or quarrel). Beautiful. We headed into the world and found a neighborhood diner in a part of town that we seldom frequent where the hospitality and welcoming energy was amazing. We sat and ate as a family and God’s restorative power settled in as a right relationship between the earlier feuding sisters took hold.
And as we drove home a U2 song came on that really hit home. Titled “Yahweh,” which is the Hebrew word for God used in the Old Testament, these are they lyrics:
Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirt
Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticise
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, tell me now
Why the dark before the dawn?
Take this city
A city should be shining on a hill
Take this city
If it be your will
What no man can own,
no man can take
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break
Yahweh had found us around that table. Often we don’t know the why of the dark before the dawn but we can see clearly when the sun rises. Where the mouths of our kids had been quick to criticize earlier… the kiss of Yahweh had done its work. Reconciliation. Redemption. Restoration.
As I tucked my ten year old into bed she took out her Bible like she often does at night and read a couple Psalms, highlighting them as she finished. “Dad, when I get old I want to have this whole book highlighted.” The kiss of Yahweh certainly will make your soul sing.
So the day began with our ten and twelve year old girls in a dispute over territorial possession of the bathroom with each of them pleading the present and past wrongdoings of their sibling as they argued their position on opposite sides of a locked bathroom door. Their father promptly reminded them that the door had hinges and that it could simply be removed so that they could both enter and exit freely in perfect harmony from now on if they wished. This solution was met with a sigh and roll of eyes that I had seen too many times before. O, the joys of parenting.
With everyone set to venture out we sat down to do a family devotion together. 2 Corinthians 5:17-21 seemed appropriate. A little discussion about what it means to be reconciled to Christ and one another would seemed to be good idea. I mean, I thought this was a good choice because since they were locked on opposite sides of the bathroom door, they could not read the picture hanging in their bathroom that reads “Sisters make the best friends.”
As we began the Bible study our ten year old said, “Dad, wouldn’t it be easier to just go to church?” Now I must tell you that I expected this response from some of the folks who I was asking to carry out this experiment of being sent into the world. But my own daughter? Ten? Isn’t it amazing that at 10 years old she is already becoming entrenched in a pattern of thinking that equates God talk and action with a church building? Wow.
Well, the Bible study went reasonably well. (By the way, Oxford American Dictionary’s definition of reconcile which we looked up in the course of the devotion: to restore friendship between {people} after an estrangement or quarrel). Beautiful. We headed into the world and found a neighborhood diner in a part of town that we seldom frequent where the hospitality and welcoming energy was amazing. We sat and ate as a family and God’s restorative power settled in as a right relationship between the earlier feuding sisters took hold.
And as we drove home a U2 song came on that really hit home. Titled “Yahweh,” which is the Hebrew word for God used in the Old Testament, these are they lyrics:
Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirt
Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticise
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, tell me now
Why the dark before the dawn?
Take this city
A city should be shining on a hill
Take this city
If it be your will
What no man can own,
no man can take
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break
Yahweh had found us around that table. Often we don’t know the why of the dark before the dawn but we can see clearly when the sun rises. Where the mouths of our kids had been quick to criticize earlier… the kiss of Yahweh had done its work. Reconciliation. Redemption. Restoration.
As I tucked my ten year old into bed she took out her Bible like she often does at night and read a couple Psalms, highlighting them as she finished. “Dad, when I get old I want to have this whole book highlighted.” The kiss of Yahweh certainly will make your soul sing.
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