I’m Starting with “Why?”

Sorry, I know the title of this blog is a rip-off of Simon Sinek‘s TEDTalk, and subsequent book entitled Start with Why, but if you’ll bear with me, maybe you will understand why I borrowed the phrase. The premise of Sinek’s book is people who change the world work from the inside-out rather than the outside-in. Using what he called the “golden circle,”most people always start by asking “What?”, move to “How?” before making it to “Why?” The difference makers always start with “Why?” So, let me.

I’m going to start with the “Why” of The House Church Movement and attempt to work from the inside out to explain why I feel compelled to launch this “new” movement. It’s not actually new. House churches have been around as long as there has been a church. The first churches were house churches. Perhaps a better way to state it is The House Church Movement is church in the new, old-fashioned way.

I don’t want to spend too much energy defining the term “house church” for you. I’m going to make a major assumption that you’ll surmise a house church is a church that meets in a person’s house. That’s the stripped down definition, but it suffices for our purposes here. House churches have also been referred to as “simple” churches and “organic” churches. Those terms are often used interchangeably when referring to the idea. No matter the term used, The House Church Movement is a movement whose purpose is to establish churches in the homes of followers of Jesus Christ. I hear you asking the question, “Why?” I’m glad you asked!

There are actually five reasons why my wife, Vanessa, and I are launching The House Church Movement. I’ll take the next five blog posts to unpack each of the five reasons, and as I unpack each one, will delve a little more deeply in the philosophy and theology that underlies the movement (and I believe it is a true movement of the Holy Spirit).

The first “Why?” is because we feel called to launch this movement.

I have made no secret of the anxiety I encountered in vocational ministry over the last two years I served professionally. There was a part of me that was totally unsettled with my inability to develop fruitful followers of Jesus Christ. I don’t blame the people (Lord! No!). I blame myself, but I also blame the institution of the Church. The Church as institution was concerned less with making disciples than it was with survival. The processes and procedures in place far more promoted institutional survival than they did spiritual formation and growth in Christlikeness.

I watched (over 28 years in ministry) as the “Church as Business Model” grew, and pastors were trained as C.E.O’s instead of shepherds. The Church Growth Movement had much (though not all) to do with this transition. It wasn’t long until pastors were pursuing MBA’s in order to lead multi-million dollar mega churches, and developing large staffs to handle ministry, and building more and bigger facilities to handle the ever-increasing crowds. It looked great on the bottom line in terms of nickels and noses, but it did little to enhance the spiritual well-being of the disciples as more and more people became consumers of religion. Witness the continuing decline of faith participation as a percentage of the population even as mega churches continue to grow at the expense of smaller congregations.

For as many as four years, I wrestled with my place in that system. I also know that the dissension within my former denomination added to my anxiety, rendering my capacity and desire to lead the church greatly diminished. I was heart-broken. I was confused. I was tired. I didn’t know much else, but I did know that what I was doing as a pastor was not what God called me to in 1990. After a season of prayer, Vanessa and I discerned it was time to step away from vocational ministry (read that here).

We stepped away from vocational ministry not believing God would call us back to the pastorate. We knew we needed a season of rest. We knew we needed a season to simply worship together. We knew we needed a season to pray. We knew we needed a season to discern further God’s calling on our lives. We are grateful for that season!

During that season, we wrestled with the question, “Does the God who calls us into ministry call us out?” I first thought the answer was yes, but we discerned the answer is no. God doesn’t call us out of ministry. He calls us to different seasons of ministry and different places of ministry. I believe Vanessa and I have arrived at a new season and a new place of ministry. We are entering a church planting season.

The changing landscape of western culture, and primarily the culture of the United States, necessitates new methods and new models for doing ministry and mission in the 21st century. Church planting will be ever more critical to the future of church. Covid-19 has altered the landscape for the traditional church (and I don’t mean traditional in the theological) going forward. No one knows who or how many may return to congregations when society returns to “normal.” The culture will be filled with both un-churched and de-churched people who will be longing for a spiritual connection, spiritual grounding and a spiritual home. Church planting will be the primary means of meeting this need.

So, again, why the house church? Because we feel called to it, just like I felt called to the pastorate in 1990. The calling never left, it simply transitioned in God’s timing. I am like the Apostle Paul as translated by Peterson in The Message:

Still, I want it made clear that I’ve never gotten anything out of this for myself, and that I’m not writing now to get something. I’d rather die than give anyone ammunition to discredit me or impugn my motives. If I proclaim the Message, it’s not to get something out of it for myself. I’m compelled to do it, and doomed if I don’t! If this was my own idea of just another way to make a living, I’d expect some pay. But since it’s not my idea but something solemnly entrusted to me, why would I expect to get paid? So am I getting anything out of it? Yes, as a matter of fact: the pleasure of proclaiming the Message at no cost to you. You don’t even have to pay my expenses! (1 Corinthians 9: 19 MSG)

Who knows? It may all come to naught, or it may reap a harvest ten-fold of anything we’ve ever known. We only know that it’s in the Lord’s hands, and we’re deeply appreciative of the Evangelical Methodist Church for giving us a place to call home as we answer this call.

If you’re interested in knowing more about The House Church Movement, reach out and we’ll chat, or if you’re in the north Louisiana area and desire to join us for our initial gathering, please put September 17th at 6:30 p.m. on your calendar. You’ll find particulars concerning the place of the gathering on our Facebook page.

Until next time, keep looking up…

In This (Together?)…

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A Facebook friend conducted a (very unscientific) poll and asked the question, “What’s your least favorite term out of this whole COVID-19 thing?” My immediate thought was the phrase was “a new normal.” There is nothing about this new that should be considered normal by an reasonable person, and there are very few life adaptations that we should want to get accustomed too.

There were other responses that ran the gamut from amusing to sarcastic:

  • “Flatten the curve…”
  • “This mess…”
  • “Mandatory…”
  • “Cancelled vacation…”
  • “Social distancing…”
  • “Herd immunity…”
  • “Essential businesses…”
  • “Shelter in place…” (which really should be “shelter at home”)
  • “Together alone…” (Really? Is that even possible?)

Hardly Together

Well, you get the picture. Quite an interesting array of phrases used to capture our current climate. As I reflected on all the responses, “new normal” may be my least favorite, but the most overused (and incorrect) phrase is “We’re all in this together.” It only takes a cursory scroll of any social media, or three minutes into the latest newscast to discern that yes, we are all in this, but we are definitely not together!

Watch President Trump’s daily press briefings and tell me we’re in this together.

Watch CNN, and then watch FOX News and tell me we’re in this together.

Talk to the introvert who still has a job and earns a paycheck while working from home in flip flops and shorts while sipping cocktails, and then talk to the grocery clerk who MUST go to work and stand all day just to pay the rent and tell me we’re in this together.

Listen to the myriad “experts” who say we must not ease the “lockdown” restrictions too quickly, and then listen to the myriad “experts” who say we must open the economy immediately and tell me we’re in this together.

Talk to the person who has received the “stimulus” check, and then talk to the person who hasn’t and tell me we’re in this together.

Talk to the small business owner whose business has been declared “non-essential,” and then talk to the chairman of Home Depot and tell me we’re all in this together.

Talk to the person who lost a spouse or a parent to COVID-19, and then talk to the person who doesn’t know anyone with the disease and tell me we’re in this together.

I say again–We’re in it, but we’re definitely not together.

Where we sit determines our perspective. Even as I write that sentence, I’m remembering an encounter Jesus had one day with two very different people looking at life from two very different perspectives, yet their lives converged around Jesus, and because they did, they were both changed forever.

Perspective Matters

The encounter is recorded in Mark 5. Mark’s gospel characterizes Jesus as a person always on the move–on an incredible journey, if you will. But, it was a journey fraught with detours. On this detour, Jesus encounters two very different people:

  • He’s a rich man, she’s a poor woman
  • We know the man’s name, but the woman remains nameless
  • He’s an honored Jew, she’s simply a unclean, ostracized woman
  • He approaches Jesus from the front, but she slips up to Jesus from the back
  • He’s had twelve years of joyful life with a wonderful daughter, she’s had 12 years of miserable, incurable pain

The contrast of these two could not be more profound, yet they were in the same condition—utterly helpless. Sometimes, that’s the best place to be. Martin Luther gives us an example. Luther made the statement that his greatest insight into God’s grace came to him while he was “on the toilet.” That sounds crass to us in the 21st Century, but when we understand the phrase “on the toilet” was a common metaphor for being in a state of utter helplessness, it throws Luther’s statement into a different light. Jairus and the unnamed woman were right where Martin Luther was when he discovered God’s grace.

A Rich Man

Jairus was helpless because of his daughter’s condition. She was on her deathbed, and this father, knowing nothing else could help,  reached out to the only hope left open to him. As a leader of the synagogue, Jairus was obviously a man of some means. Well-respected in the community, he was a man who was “clean” as far as the law was concerned. But, his money, his position, his place in the community were all worthless in this helpless situation. In an act of sheer desperation, He reached out to this radical rabbi who has been making waves around the countryside.

Jairus had done all, and in that moment the only thing that mattered was his daughter. Not his position, not his place in the community, not his money. Clean, un-clean, sinners or no, Jesus was his last best hope to bring healing for his daughter.

There’s a great lesson for me here: No one is above needing Jesus.

A Poor Woman

The poor sick, nameless woman is a stark contrast to Jairus. For twelve years, she had been unable to go to synagogue, possibly the one Jairus now led. For her to be in the crowd at all was a monumental statement on her part, and it demonstrates her utter helplessness. Not only was she unclean, but she was dead broke. Mark says she has spent all her money and the problem was actually worse. She was broke physically, spiritually and financially. She was as broke as a person could get. Clean or unclean, crowd or no crowd, Jesus was her last best hope for healing.

Two incredibly different people in the very same situation, but the only thing they were together on was Jesus. I wonder if Jairus thought as Jesus stopped to help the woman, “Jesus, why waste such precious time on this unclean woman? My daughter is dying!” Jesus’ response teaches me that, just as no one is above needing Jesus, so no one is insignificant to Jesus.

Jesus came for the up and out, and Jesus came for the down and out. The only thing these two people had in common was a need for Jesus. Two distinctively different people from two distinctively different worlds bound together by a deep need for healing and wholeness. Their utter helplessness found them both, as Mark says, falling “at the feet” of Jesus. This encounter reminds me of the old saying, “the ground is level at Calvary.”

It is said that after the Civil War, General Robert E. Lee, a devout Christian, visited a church in Washington, D.C. During the Communion service, he was seen kneeling beside a black man. (Turn your virtue signals off!) Later, when someone asked how he could do that, Lee replied, “My friend, all ground is level at the foot of the cross.”

Our Common Need

What makes that ground so level? The awfulness of our sins, the terrible price Jesus paid to forgive them, and the love He has for all people. We can all kneel together at the foot of the cross. In God’s economy, nobodies are somebodies and somebodies are nobodies. Life is not fair to the upwardly mobile or the down and out. One thing we need to remember is that bad times are bad times no matter who we are. The only thing we may truly be together in is our need for grace. Jesus loves us all, and is as ready to offer his grace to one as another. What matters is our openness to receive his grace.

Hope said they could find help in an encounter with Jesus. Hope brought faith, and faith is the key to surviving the bad times, or at least surviving them without bitterness and blame. To the woman, Jesus said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, you’ve been healed.”

Then, friends of Jairus came and said, “You’re daughter is dead. Don’t bother him any longer.” Jesus only looked at Jairus and said, “Don’t be afraid. Just trust me.” Jairus had a choice to make: Trust Jesus, or trust the other voices around him.

Jairus chose to listen to Jesus. He acted on his faith, just like the unnamed woman, and he saw the life-changing, life-giving power of God revealed in Jesus Christ. There’s another lesson for me: Faith makes all the difference. Faith is believing something so that our actions are changed as a result. Belief about Jesus does not bring healing, wholeness or salvation. Following Jesus does!

Do we have faith in Jesus? Our actions should reflect that fact. I am reminded of the Roman officer who came to Jesus asking him to heal his servant boy. Jesus said, “I’ll come with you,” but the officer said, “No, I understand authority. I tell a soldier to do this and he does it. You just say the word and my servant will be healed.” Jesus said, “I haven’t seen such faith in all Israel! Go, your servant is healed.”

If we have faith, we’ll hear Jesus and we’ll obey Jesus. Like, when he said, “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth, therefore, go, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the father, son and holy spirit, and teach them all things I have taught you. And, lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

I suppose we are more together than I give us credit for. The pandemic has left us all at the mercy of something totally beyond our control. In that regard, we’re pretty much helpless.

We also live in a world left helpless by the power of sin. How we see that sin depends on our perspective, but no matter our perspective, our need for Jesus remains the same. Church, do you think we can at least be together in that?

Until next time, keep looking up…