Read about the story and my response here.
Category: Missional Church
Local Theology
See the post here on developing a local theology and the excerpt below on our attempt to do local theology as a church:
The Four Self Church
We are cultivating a Four-Self Church, a concept that was tweaked by Paul Hiebert in his Anthropological Reflections on Missiological Issues (probably the most influential missiology text I have read). Most church planters are aware of the Three-Self Church—self-governing, self-sustaining, self-propagating. Hiebert adds a fourth—self-theologizing.
We are trying to strike the delicate balance between teaching theology and cultivating theologians, between downloading Systematic Theology and discipling Christians who do theology to address issues in our Keep Austin Weird culture. One way we are doing this is through our Interpreting Scripture and Culture class.
St. Patrick: The Missional Leader
St. Patrick was a Romano-British citizen, kidnapped in Britain at age 16 and served as a slave for 6 years in Wood of Fochoill, Ireland. He later returned to the homeland of his captivity, Ireland, to spread the gospel and plant churches. His mission to Ireland 457-492 began at age 40 after being turned down after his first request to be commissioned as a missionary.
Although I’m sure Patrick enjoyed a good beer, his life was counted for much more than good times and green clovers. Patrick was a man of remarkable faith and mission. In the 5th century, Patrick planted more than 200 churches and won 100,000 people to Christ. How did this happen? Far from contemporary attractional church models, Patrick pioneered mission to the pagan tribes of Ireland through innovative strategy, incarnational ministry, and robust faith in Christ.
St. Patrick, the Missional Leader
When entering a new town or province, the first thing Patrick would do was befriend the local ruler. Very often that leader would come to Christ and permit Patrick to evangelize the area. Next, Patrick would establish monastaries for the training of Christians, but unlike many of his contemporaries, Patrick emphasized mission as a part of Christian training. In essence, he established missionary training centers in every city in order to effectively reach the whole of Ireland.
In essence, Patrick established missionary training centers in every city in order to effectively reach the whole of Ireland.
Patrick also learned the local language, the old Gaelic, and translated the gospel into their culture. He developed their “flavor of writing” and adapted colloquialisms and was known for his persistent study of Gaelic culture. He painted heaven as a great feast, not an angelic reunion, which appealed to the banquet culture of the Irish.
St. Patrick, the Missiologist
Patrick was a savvy missionary and developed numerous ways to communicate the gospel which reflected thoughtful
engagement of culture. When confronting pagan Druid religion, which used the circle to represent reincarnation, Patrick superimposed the cross onto the circle of reincarnation to demonstrate the triumph of the cross over druid belief. Hence the Celtic cross. Notice that the circle never overlays the cross, but the cross is on top of the circle.
Patrick new that the gospel must interact with the world; it must reject, redeem, and recreate life and culture under the lordship of Christ.
To be sure, this was no artistic whim; it was a direct power encounter with the pagan belief of his day. Patrick new that the gospel must interact with the world; it must reject, redeem, and recreate life and culture under the lordship of Christ. Maybe we need to come up with a cross over the top of a $100 bill! It was also Patrick that used the indigenous shamrock (three-leaf clover) to explain the Trinity to the Celts. Three leaves, one clover; three persons, one God.
St. Patrick, Man of God
In addition to his missional savvy, Patrick’s Confessio reveals a man who was immersed in Scripture. He was shaped by his relationship with the Trinity and passionately devoted to the Celts. Consider his exemplary prayer for any Christian or church planter:
and without complaint I would faithfully be of service to that pagan people to whom the love of Christ translated me and granted me, as long as I live, if I should be worthy; that at last with humility and in truth I might serve them. And so, according to the measure of faith of the Trinity it is my duty without the fear of censure to make known the Gift of God and his eternal consolation without fear faithfully to expound everywhere the name of God (Confessio, I. 65-75)
Can Gospel-centered Community Happen on Sundays?
Some people seem to think that house churches or missional communities are the purest expression of the church. As a result, they downplay weekend gatherings that require a lot of energy or attention. The logic goes something like: you can’t be the church for just two hours a Sunday.
Are Small Gatherings Purer that Big Gatherings?
I’ve used this very logic; there’s a lot of truth to it. But surely it is possible to cultivate gospel-centered community in larger gatherings. I think it depends on how the Sunday gathering is structured, what forms the primary focus, and how we interact with one another. I, for one, don’t think that missional communities are the purer expression of the church. We see both private and public, small and large gatherings of the church in Scripture, from house churches to city churches, bands of martyrs to billions of people from every tribe and tongue bowed low in white-hot worship. Instead of writing off big gatherings, what would happen if we rewrote the script? What if the community participated in big gatherings beyond acts of service like children’s ministry, setup, security, and hospitality?
Let the Community Speak on Sundays
Every other Sunday someone from one of our missional communities gets up and shares something that God is doing in their life, in their community. We simply ask that it relate to one of our three core values—Gospel, Community, and Mission. Very often they touch on all three.
This Sunday Sam shared how a recent missional experience in the projects provoked confusion and some deep soul-searching. He began asking questions like “Do I really believe the gospel?” Should I sell all my clothes and give the money away? Tearing through the clothing in his closet, his wife arrested him by asking: Sam are you trying to impress God?” Mission as idolatry, as identity, subverts Jesus’ rightful and satisfying place in our lives. Sam went on to share how ashamed he was, but ended up realizing that Jesus was sufficient for his failure to believe, to treasure Christ. Then he charged us with something like: “If you feel ashamed, if you feel like you don’t measure up to God, if you feel like you aren’t good enough, don’t believe it. Jesus is big enough to handle your sin. Come to him.”
Gospel-centered Community on Sundays (and for sermons)
Sam’s exhortation lodged grace in my soul. As it turned out, I had been battling indifference towards Christ all morning. My sermon rehearsal had felt flat. My religious affections were a flickering flame, shifting from blue to white, at times even invisible. God strengthened me on the spot with Sam’s exhortation that Jesus is sufficient for my indifference. I repented for my lack of affection for our infinitely desirable God, received His forgiveness which jolted me into worship. This story from the community reminded me what kind of Savior we serve. I emerged from my sinful indifference into hopeful expectation, prepared to preach from a place of deeper gospel conviction.
Sunday after Sunday my church preaches to me before I preach to them. Sometimes through songs, other times through stories, but they serve as a constant reminder that God has not called me to professionalism but to Jesus-centered missional community. I hear them telling me the very same things I tell them: “Jesus is sufficient for our failures and strong for our successes.” “We are an imperfect people clinging to a perfect Christ.”
Sometimes I slowly mound up pressure on myself for a stunning homiletic performance. When I do, I displace the power of the gospel and replace it with the weakness of words. To be sure, our words can carry gospel power, but they can also carry death and deceit. We all need the “holiness of truth”—to hear the words that are right and true, which produce a holy happiness in the face of false and fleeting promises like: “If I exegete the culture well, if I provide a unique theological insight, then the sermon will impress, will impact, will change people.” God’s faithfulness to his Word, the sanctifying power of simple truth, and the presence of a gracious people who point me through sermons, away from performances, and to our Savior all underscore that the Christ alone is our hope, that God in Christ through the Spirit is faithfully working in us according to his good pleasure.
What better way to finish off a Sunday than by spending time in community?. Tonight we dropped by a friend’s house where folks showed up to have an impromptu breakfast-for-dinner and just hang out. Conversation after conversation reminded me of the faith-strengthening power of an imperfect, gospel-centered community, one that happens in a steady state, including Sundays. I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.