Yes, You May Move The Table

Last Sunday morning, one of the tables in Fellowship Hall was about ten feet out of place. Before worship as I walked by, I heard the people sitting at the table talking about it. They weren’t really griping, just having a good time. “Somebody moved our table!” they moaned.

In that “hardee har har” style of Sunday morning conversation that happens so often, they were discussing the possible reasons their table may have been moved, who may have moved it, and the inconvenience caused by the mysterious shifting furniture.

I couldn’t stop myself from chiming in, “You know, you could just sit there and complain about it; or you could hush up and move it back!”

It was light hearted and all in good fun, but I’ve been thinking about it for the past couple of days, and it has become something of a metaphor. I wonder: how often do people in the church think they need someone’s explicit permission to “move the table?” And moreover, how often do people in the church sit there and complain about the fact that “the table has been moved” instead of just getting up and moving it back? Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Once I was talking with the evangelism team of one of the churches I have served. I told them that I’d like to hear some ideas from them about ways they could equip the congregation to reach out into the community. “Like what?” they asked. I suggested something simple and common, like printing business-type cards for people to hand out to others.

There was a dramatic pause. And then the response, “We can DO that?”

Yes, church. You can do that. Move the table. Print the cards. Share the love. Do the stuff the church does. You do not need explicit permission to do the stuff that you should be doing anyway.

Occasionally I have noticed Communion servers standing there in the front after their section has all been served, and I’d swear they are looking directly at that person sitting in the wheelchair waiting for the bread and juice, but they absolutely will not go serve them until someone says specifically, “Will you please go serve them?” They know the person needs to be served, and they know that it is their job to serve them, but they need it stated explicitly. They need to be given permission.

Now, I understand where that comes from, to a point. People mostly like to know what the rules are, and mostly like to follow them. People don’t like to think they are doing something “wrong.” And so we can overcompensate, and not do anything at all. And then complain about how nothing is being done.

On the other hand, it is an absolutely JOY to see people who are doing church with focus, energy, and a sense of calling. Such people do not need the pastor to give them permission to do something, because the mission of the church has already given them permission. When ecclesiology shifts from maintenance of institutional structure to the people on God’s mission, it is a thing of beauty to behold. The Holy Spirit has given them the vision and energy, and the church itself has equipped them to engage in ministry that is powerful, fruitful, and meaningful.

There’s nothing a pastor likes more than to stand up and cheer for the church being the church. If you are a pastor who is doing it right, you discover things being done by your congregation rather than having to initiate everything yourself. What I would love is for every single person in the church to know with certainty that, if it supports the mission of the church, they have permission to do it. I would much rather have to help people dial it back a bit instead of having to crank it up in the first place, you know what I mean?

Think about the guys in Luke 5 who brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus for healing. Finding the doorway blocked with a crowd of people, they carried him up onto the roof and lowered him down through the ceiling, right in the middle of the crowd.

Notice, they did not ask anyone’s permission to do so. Their “mission” was to get that guy close to Jesus, and they were going to do whatever it took to accomplish that mission, even if that meant a highly … shall we say “unconventional” approach.

I wonder, if I was their pastor, would I have cheered for those men or would I have cringed at their approach?

Standing in that crowd, craning my neck for a glimpse of Jesus, would I have thought, “What the heck are those guys doing up there? They’re probably going to get in trouble for this! I’m sure the Board of Trustees has not approved this course of action!”

Or maybe, “Crud, I wish I had thought of that! Now let’s see, how could I finagle it so that I get the credit for this idea?”

Or, if I was those guys’ pastor, would I have been able to cheer for them, encouraging their commitment to the mission, affirming their unwavering focus on their friend’s need, and highlighting them so that others in the congregation would be edified by their example?

I want to be a pastor who doesn’t have to say, “Yes, church you may ‘move the table.’” Every single time. Just go ahead! You may. A thousand times you may.

Church, you have permission to be the church, and let me tell you, it doesn’t come from me.

Baby D, You Are Beautiful

Hey Baby D, I’ve got some stuff to tell you. You’re going back home tomorrow and so before you go I just want to make sure that you know some stuff. I might not get a chance to tell you this later on, so I’m going to tell you now, okay?

First of all, I love you very much. So does Mommy Erin and Cori and Wes and G-man. We love you so, so much. We think you are absolutely beautiful, in every sense! We’ve loved you ever since you were two days old, the day that we first met you and you came to stay with us for a little while. Now you are six months old, and we love you more than ever! And remember, we will love you for your whole life, no matter what.

And also, your Mommy and Daddy love you very much. They always have, and they always will. They had some really important stuff they needed to take care of before you could go to live with them, and now they’ve taken care of all that stuff and they are ready for you! Isn’t that great! They’ve seen you every single week of your life, and every visit they’ve loved you more.

Wow! You have so many people who love you. What a lucky boy you are!

Hey D, people are going to tell you that you look just like your Mommy. The first time I met her, I told her so. It’s true - you are your Mommy’s little boy, through and through. She’s kind of quiet and shy, but I get the feeling that she’s really strong, too. And beautiful, just like you! I know that she’s going to do her very best for you, and that you will learn a whole lot from her. She’s going to take care of you all the time now, so you be really nice to her, okay? Help her out.

Try not to spit up on her as much as you spit up on us. You are a very spitty baby. We tried and tried to figure out how to make you not spit up so much, but you were having none of it. At seemingly random times, and most often when there was no bib or burp rag available, and frequently all over a brand new shirt or pair of pants. It’s almost as if you planned your spit-ups for the most (least?) opportune moments. Not your most beautiful moments, perhaps.

You’re a strong little turkey, that’s for sure. You can hold your own weight on your legs; if you could figure out the balance thing you’d be standing on your own! You’re just about able to sit up by yourself, but we keep pillows behind you to catch you when you fall over. And hey, you can roll over now, every now and then, but it kind of makes you mad when you end up on your tummy and then you don’t know where to go from there.

Then there’s your hair, which tends to stick straight up. Look, I’m really sorry about that. At first, Mommy Erin thought it was cute so after your baths she made sure she dried it all sticking up crazy like that. And now even when we try to brush it down it just goes “boing” up in the air all over the place. I must confess though, it actually pretty cute. Beautiful, in fact. And it perfectly matches your personality. So maybe I’m not quite as sorry as I said before.

One thing that I hope never changes, Baby D, is your smile. When you smile your mouth opens so wide it looks like you are going to start singing! Your eyes twinkle and you’ve got this wonderful dimple in your cheek and your whole body sort of shakes and flails out of control. Feet, hands, head - you smile with your whole entire body, and it makes everyone who sees it really, really happy. It may be your most beautiful thing!

Sometimes I like to put my nose on your cheek, right by your ear. Then I wuffle my face back and forth and gently nibble on your neck. This never fails to crack you up. I try not to do it too often, and give you plenty of breaks. But you have to realize, it’s all for the sake of seeing you smile. I’m going to miss that smile.

Smile at your Mommy and Daddy a lot, okay? It will make them really happy, too.

Listen, I know that it is going to be kind of confusing right at the start. You’re going to wonder where we are and not have any idea even how to ask the question. That might make you kind of nervous or anxious at first, while you’re still getting used to living with your Mommy and Daddy all the time.

I think you’ll especially wonder where G-man is. And he’ll wonder the same thing about you. You’ve shared a room for the last six months, after all. That’s your whole entire life, and one quarter of his! He’s your best buddy.

G loves you so much, and even though you can’t say it yet, it is obvious that you love him. You two boys play with each other all the time, on the living room floor, on our bed, in your room. He calls you “Koka,” and he tries to give you your binky when you don’t really want it, and the throws toys at you sometimes, and he likes to pat your head which often knocks you over, and he lies down beside you on the floor and looks at your face and laughs, which then makes you laugh and that makes him laugh even more. You adore him. Quite often just as we are calling out to G to tell him he’s being too rough with you, that’s just when you laugh with delight. Oh well.

The G-man is going to miss you, Baby D.

But here’s something. Your Mommy says that she wants us to come and visit you sometimes, and maybe you can come visit us, too. We will try to stay in touch with her, so she can call us whenever she wants to.

Yeah, I know. It’s not going to be the same. But that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Here’s something I really want you to know: Things change. That’s what happens when you live; people grow, people change, people learn, people move, people leave. We can never keep things just like they are; that’s not really living, is it? Whatever happens, we’ll still love you, though. That’s a promise.

Sometimes people tell us that they could never be foster parents because they’d love the kids too much to let them go. What they don’t understand is that the number one reason that we’re “letting you go” is exactly because we love you so much. Loving another person means that you want what is best for them, even if it makes you kind of sad. Even if it breaks your heart, in fact.

And so we’re not really “letting you go.” We’re sending you home, to live with your Mommy and Daddy, because that’s where you need to be. We will always, always, always be here for you if you need us. And we love you forever, no matter what.

You are beautiful.

Some Marital Thoughts

I have been following a public conversation here in Springfield that has been rekindled by the proposal to amend the city’s anti-discrimination stance to include sexual orientation and gender identity. In many ways the conversation has been a reiteration of the same arguments we’ve been having for years and years. And so I’ve been content to let the conversation play out without comment.

But something I read this morning snagged my attention, and I think that it is noteworthy. Dr. George Wood, General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God, wrote a letter to the editor that appeared this morning. It is unremarkable for what it says, in that it essentially restates the basic anti-gay marriage arguments, adding nothing new to the conversation.

However, it is remarkable for what it omits. I have read the letter a half a dozen times, and I cannot find any mention of procreation anywhere.

For years and years it has been one of the core arguments of the anti-gay marriage position that marriage must be a heterosexual relationship because the fundamental purpose is procreation. Why would Dr. Wood omit it from his public contribution to the current discussion? In fact he goes so far as to list off Genesis 1:26 and 1:27 to lend support to his position, but omits 1:28, which is the “be fruitful and multiply” verse.

Dr. Wood offers the following as his definition of marriage: “God creates and commends marriage as the sexual union of a man and a woman.” In this new definition of marriage, Dr. Wood leaves in the sex but doesn’t mention the babies. Perhaps he has done so as a concession to heterosexual couples who cannot or choose not to have children.

For the record, I strongly disagree with the definition of marriage as merely a “sexual union.” My definition includes the ideas of covenant and partnership and mutual respect and love. I define marriage as a life-long, covenant relationship between two adults who have promised one another to care for each other with mutual love and respect for ever and ever, no matter what happens. I simply cannot concur with the thought that marriage is all and only about sex.

I’m doubtful that anything else new will come out of this latest public discourse on the issues surrounding homosexuality, but I’ll keep my ears open. If I do hear anything else noteworthy, I’ll most likely have a comment or two to add. 

In the meantime, I'd like to ask a question. Do you consider marriage to be a "sexual union?" Feel free to answer either in the comments or on Facebook.

Church Membership: Part 3 - "Fight the Power"

Personally, I blame the Baby Boomers.

Though that statement works for any number of topics, I apply it in this case to the degradation of church membership. No offense. Don’t take it personally, and all that jazz.

Those who were in their teens and twenties during the 1960s developed a pretty substantial anti-institutional attitude. It was all “fight the power” and “stick it to the man” and so on. Then they became forty and fifty year olds in the 1990s, and began assuming leadership roles, including in the church.

The movement of the boomer generation back to church in the late 80s and 1990s is fairly well documented. A part of that movement brought with it the residual distrust of institutional structure. This created a tension within and around the church. How do people who are geared to “stick it to the man” talk about being a part of something like the church? What does “membership” mean anymore?

Many have dismissed “membership” altogether, reasoning that it is not necessary to support an institution by joining it in order to be a follower of Jesus. This sentiment is expressed vividly with slogans like “Spiritual but not religious” or “I love Jesus but I hate the church.”

Congregations compensated by minimizing their denominational connections, sometimes quite dramatically. The denomination logo is on the sign, but it’s tucked away down in the corner where you have to squint to find it.

Many creative, innovative, and vibrant expressions of church have emerged as a result of the rejection of the institution. From cowboy church to hip hop worship services, unique, independent faith communities popped up with amazing energy, and it was a wonderful thing to witness. In many ways, the definition of church has been forever altered, and I applaud the change.

I’d like to think we live in a “post-anti-institutional” time. (Aren’t I cool? I put the word “post” in front of a term. Hipster me.) In other words, I believe we’ve moved beyond the animosity of “I love Jesus but hate the church.” We’ve realized how naïve that viewpoint is, I think. I hope.

To be sure, there are still those who value the institution of the church over the mission. These tend to be status quo kinds of people who are reticent to change. And at the same time, there are still those who tilt at the windmill of the institution, though that battle really doesn’t need to be fought any more.

I say that because I believe it.

It isn’t attractive to “stick it to the man” when “the man” is a dysfunctional, antiquated, irrelevant hairball of bureaucracy that means next to nothing in the world today. Anyone who pays any attention to the General Conference and Judicial Council of the United Methodist Church should be aware of that. And every denomination has its own parallel, I’m sure. Railing against the institution at this point is almost bullying.

All that is to say that I’m trying to reclaim “membership” as an idea that is helpful, healthy, and conducive to helping people become followers of Jesus who are changing the world for God’s sake. Remember? The mission? Being a member of a church isn’t about supporting the institution. If it ever was, it shouldn’t have been. Being a member of a church is about confessing the need for support and accountability in our corporate Christian discipleship.

On Sunday, a lifelong church member came to me and asked about the congregation’s budget. I told him that the document was available if he wanted to take a look. No, he said, I don’t need to see it, I was just wondering “if the church needed me to give some more to support the budget.”

Old school. Notice the ecclesiology - I’m not a part of the church; the church is an external group that needs me to support it. Being a member to this older member still means institutional support.

I told him, “We don’t talk about giving in terms of supporting a budget. Our gift is a proportional response to God’s gifts to us.” He got it. And I think that makes sense to people, once it sinks in. The transformation does take some time, however.

Any time you gather a group of people together, it gets messy. But gathering together sure beats trying to go it on your own. It’s hard to follow Jesus all by yourself. Lacking support, one tends to burn out. Lacking accountability, one tends to wander aimlessly. People gather together to become church to avoid those pitfalls. Will there be conflict? Yes. Will there be struggle? Of course. Will personalities clash? Yep. It is inevitable, in just about any group that gathers.

Why would I encourage anyone to join a church? Honestly, I wouldn’t. My mission is to encourage people to follow Jesus, and the support and accountability that church membership provides seems to me like the best way to do that. When church membership is done well, it is a truly beautiful relationship to behold. 

(This is Part 3 of a 3 part series on church membership. Part 1 is called "Support and Accountability" and Part 2 is called "Why Bother.")

Whatever Kind of Love, Take Care of Each Other

Simon, do you agapao me more than these?

Yes, I phileo you.

Simon, do you agapao me?

Yes, I phileo you.

Simon, do you phileo me?

Yes, I phileo you.

This is a watered down version of the series of three questions Jesus asks Simon Peter in John 21:15-17. For each of the Greek words I’ve italicized, the NRSV translation is “love.”

So, at one time I thought that the point was in the repetition. Jesus asked three times to counteract the three denials, and Peter was hurt because Jesus had to ask him three times if he loved him, as if Jesus didn’t trust his first two answers. It was the number of times Jesus asked that was at the heart of the passage.

Then I learned Greek, and saw that the first two times Jesus asked, he used a different word than he did the third time. Jesus asked with “agapao” the first two times, and “phileo” the second time. So I thought it was the fact that Jesus changed the meaning, from a self-sacrificial abiding love to more of a mutual friendship kind of love. And that is why Peter was hurt, because he realized he didn’t love Jesus the way Jesus wanted him to.

And then I read some commentaries, many of which say that John used the words agapao and phileo as synonyms throughout his Gospel, and that’s how they were being used here. So it was back to thinking that it was the number of times Jesus asked that hurt Peter, not the content of love.

And then I realized that it isn’t two different questions Jesus asks - it is three. The first question includes the phrase “more than these.” Jesus doesn’t just change the question between #2 and #3; he changes each question. The exegetical move I have made here is: it doesn’t matter how John uses the two different terms elsewhere. What matters is how he is using them here.

If I might paraphrase the three questions:

1) Do you have a selfless and abiding love for me more than you do for anyone or anything else?

          Simon: Jesus, you're like a brother to me!

2) Well, do you at least have a selfless and abiding love for me?

          Simon: Yeah, well, you're like a brother to me, man.

3) Okay, so do you love me like you would love a brother, then?

          Simon: Yep. I suppose so. 

See, I do not think we have to choose between Peter being hurt by the triple repetition and Peter being hurt by the changing questions. I think it is quite possible he is hurt by both. He is hurt because he realizes that he does not have the kind of love for Jesus that Jesus asks of him.

And whatever the question, whatever the response, Jesus’s comeback is, “Take care of people.” Feed them, tend them. Be a shepherd for the flock, lambs and sheep alike. Take care of people.

In other words, whatever your relationship with Jesus looks like, the corresponding call is going to be the same. We’re supposed to take care of each other. Whatever kind of love (or not) we have for Jesus.

Take care of each other.

Church Membership: Part 2 - "Why Bother?"

A friend of mine comes to worship at our church when she’s not out of town for work. She’s gung-ho about mission and service, and has served with tireless compassion and dedication on several mission trips.

But she hasn’t joined the church. She’s not a “member.” When I ask her about it, she says that since she’s out of town so much for her work, she isn’t able to be here as much as she would like to. And if she can’t make the commitment, she isn’t going to join.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I respect her for that!

Nobody should ever pressure a person to join a church. It’s something a person chooses to do. My friend worships, serves, gives; from outward appearances she seems like one of the most active members of the congregation. But she hasn’t become a member of the congregation because the circumstances of her life do not allow her to make the kind of commitment she wants to make.

Being a member of a church is about “want to” - not “have to.” Why bother becoming a member? Quite simply, because you have chosen to follow Jesus, and subsequently you have realized that by yourself you cannot do so. You need some people to help you. And in return for their help, you will offer yours to them.

Because the fact is, it isn’t easy to follow Jesus. C.S. Lewis puts it this way: “If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.” The Gospel is challenging, and the call to follow is rarely a call to comfort.

You may ask: Well, if it’s not a “have to” kind of situation, why would anybody “want to” then?

I may respond: Because life is supposed to be meaningful, and following Jesus is what provides that meaning.

I heard Donald Miller say recently that deep down people do not actually want to live lives that are successful; people want to live lives that are meaningful. I’ve been pondering that idea ever since.

People find meaning from all kinds of sources. Career. Status. Family. Science. Baseball. Star Wars. Helping people. Hurting people. Just about anything can provide a person with a sense of purpose, a foundation for life. But much of it is transient, and provides only a temporary touch point.

I think there is innate in people something that seeks to transcend. We seem to have been hardwired with an inkling that there is more to the world that what is apparent on the surface. And along with that inkling is the suspicion that the “something more” is what infuses life with meaning.

Jesus is speaking directly to that inkling when he says, “Follow me.” Initially there is a sense that maybe, just maybe, this way could lead somewhere. There’s a small nudge, a kind of hesitant but eager desire to see what might happen. When the way is walked well, with the love and support and encouragement of other followers of the way, it doesn’t take too long for the confirmation to come. Life means something. There is purpose, there is vision, there is a mission to undertake and good friends with whom to undertake it.

Last night, the Chamber Choir from Kickapoo High School came to our church to sing at a fundraiser concert for a mission trip. Now, I don’t know the faith backgrounds of all of the kids who were here. I don’t know what the “believe” or even if they do. But I know that nobody required them to be here, to give a couple hours of their weekend away like they did. They were here because they chose to be here, and they chose to be here because a member of their choir is also on the mission team hosting the fundraiser, and she asked them to be here.

Whether it was to show support for their friend, or because they wanted to help fund the mission trip to Kenya, or just because they love to sing together - they chose to be here because it meant something to them. Their presence here was not because their director required it; he wasn’t even here! It was because the experience was meaningful.

In the same way, a person chooses to be a member of a congregation. Not because someone requires it. Not because it is expected. Not because you will be graded at the end of the quarter, and this stuff is going to be on the quiz.

You choose to “show up” and be a member of a church because you want to follow Jesus, and doing so infuses life with transcendent meaning.

(This is Part 2 of a three part series on church membership. Part one is called “Support & Accountability.” The working title for part three is “But What About the Jerks?”)

Church Membership: Part 1 - "Support & Accountability"

I got to teach confirmation class yesterday. During the class I said, “At the end of these classes you are going to make a choice about whether or not you want to become a member of the church. Nobody is going to force you. It’s going to be your choice.

“And let me tell you, if you don’t have any intentions to do the stuff that church does, you probably shouldn’t join. That’s how seriously I take church; that’s how important it is to me.

“If you aren’t going to worship every week, be active in a small group, give proportionately, serve those in need, and invite others, then you might think about waiting until you’re ready to do that before becoming a member of the church.”

Why would I encourage people to join a church?

Honestly … I wouldn’t.

The truth is, I encourage people to follow Jesus, and if joining a church is the best way for them to do that, brilliant. I’ve heard plenty of people say, “I don’t need to be in a church to follow Jesus.” Who am I to argue? I wouldn’t dare limit the capacity of God to work outside of the parameters of church membership.

There are only two reasons to become a member of a church: support and accountability. Both of these functions are focused on the church’s mission - helping people become disciples of Jesus who are changing the world for God’s sake.

I do not find it easy to be a disciple of Jesus Christ by myself. The church is a group of people whose mission is (in part) to help me in my discipleship.  Their purpose for existing is to help people (like me) follow Jesus. That’s a staggering thought.

And it’s reciprocal. At the same time my membership means that I’ve promised to help others in their discipleship, as well. That means we support one another and hold one another accountable to our task - making the world a better place, a place that looks a lot more like God wants it to.

If you need neither support nor accountability in your discipleship, don’t join a church.

I’m serious. If you and God are just fine without being a part of a church, don’t join one.

And if you are not going to help people become disciples changing the world for God, then don’t join.

And if you are not going to accept the help being offered you in your own discipleship, don’t join.

Said another way: if you are not going to do the stuff that churches do, you maybe shouldn’t join one.

The church exists because the mission exists, and all the church does ought to be geared toward that mission. Every activity should be aligned with supporting discipleship.

And what does that support look like? Nothing revolutionary here, plenty of books written on the topic, plenty of bishops preaching to congregations on the subject - it looks like

- worship together every week,

- being a part of a small group for growth and fellowship,

- giving proportionately of your income,

- serving others by helping people who need help, and

- creating a culture of invitation and hospitality.

These practices are a congregation’s offer of discipleship support and accountability to people. If you’re not going to accept that offer, you probably shouldn’t join a church.

“But Andy, I don’t do that stuff, and God and I are doing fine. Why you gotta be a hater?”

Again, let me assure you that I have no desire to limit what God is capable of doing outside of the church. I intend no judgment one way or the other; church membership is not “good” or “bad.” It is simply “helpful,” for me and for many others, in providing support and accountability for Christian discipleship.

At the same time, I cannot call a pattern of life Christian discipleship if it really isn’t. If it quacks like a duck, it probably isn’t a toothbrush. In order to clarify what I mean when I say Christian discipleship, let me make five distinctions.

DISTINCTION ONE:

First, I’d make a distinction between weekly worship and what I’d call “occasional” worship: once a month, once every six weeks, once and a while. It seems that we often try to fit worship into our schedules, rather than ordering our entire week around worship. Whether its sports, work, or a weekend at the lake, worship just slips down the priority list and we tend to become occasional worshipers rather than weekly.

DISTINCTION TWO:

There is a clear distinction between intentional small group participation and the frenetic activity and hyper-scheduled lives we tend to lead. Participation in a small group is where the deepest growth in discipleship happens, specifically with regard to two practices: faith formation and fellowship with others. But in order to grow deeply, we have to slow down, create time and space for the Spirit to move, and truly be present with a regular small group. When we are rushing from there to here and back again, there’s no chance to experience that level of growth.

DISTINCTION THREE:

When it comes to our generosity, there’s a big difference between giving “proportionately” and giving “conveniently.” Proportionate giving is sharing a percentage of one’s income with the church each pay period, with the Biblical 10% tithe as the goal. On the other hand, giving “conveniently” looks like dropping a bill or check (with a random amount always ending in five or zero) in the plate on those occasional worship Sundays. With electronic giving options, these days it’s easier than ever to give proportionately. (And we could have a whole discussion about whether that’s a good thing or not!)

DISTINCTION FOUR:

There’s a distinction to be made between serving “out there” in the community and serving one’s self. It’s as clear as the distinction between selfless and selfish. I see a lot of the church serving only the church, or the family, or the self. Not that there’s anything wrong with that inherently, but the kind of service Christ calls for is clearly “out there,” in the community, where it is risky and uncertain and you might get hurt. Christian service ought to make the world a better place for God’s sake, or said another way, contribute to the construction of the reign of God on earth.

DISTINCTION FIVE:

Finally, we need to make a distinction between a culture of invitation and a culture of comfort. A culture of comfort focuses inwardly and we tend to be withdrawn, awkward with, or even hostile to strangers. Christian discipleship requires a culture of invitation, in which the church is out and about in the community, involved with groups and activities that allow us to make friends with people who are not a part of a church. A culture of invitation does not have proselytizing the heck out of people as its goal, but rather the goal is just to become friends with people. Period. God will take care of the rest.

(To be continued. The working title for part 2 of this post = “Then Why Bother?”)