Fear, the most basic and pervasive of human emotions, operates in two modes.  Fear of the first order manifests itself as a strong, unpleasant emotion caused by realized or anticipated danger or dread.  Whether rational or irrational, founded or unfounded, fear in this form is a terror, horror, or panic that captures us and puts everything into question.

Realized fear of a bully who with fists is threatening, the flashing lights of a police car in the rear-view mirror, or a pink slip arriving in the mail immediately arrests us, causing heart to race, stomach to knot, and sweat to appear.  Anticipated fear of being found out, losing our good reputation, becoming severely ill, or suddenly dying can seize us in similar ways.  Whether realized or anticipated, fear controls our lives – how much we will expose ourselves to others, whether we will venture new actions, and the extent to which we will give ourselves in love.  If you want to know who a person is at his or her core, just ask, What do you fear?

Fear, in another mode, expresses itself as reverence or awe.  This kind of fear can be calculated and reasoned.  We assess something or someone and then take the decision that he, she, or it is to be revered and worshiped.  Awe and wonder eventually result in veneration and praise.  This fear cannot be demanded or coerced but is offered.  As God reveals Himself as the Creator, Sustainer and Reconciler of all things, He elicits our fear.  This means that though He reveals Himself as awesome and amazing, reverence and awe (fear) can only be freely given to Him and not imposed by Him.  Because God wants worshipers who by choice fear Him, we are free to ignore or disparage and thus not fear Him.

For Barth, fear of the second mode outranks that of the first.  And he warns that fear of the first mode (terror) should not be abandon, unless fear of the first order (worship) is decidedly in place.  Unless we indeed fear God, there is plenty in the world to fear.

Two fears, terror and awe, stand alongside each other and yet in opposition.  The two are similar in feeling and emotion but different in their outcomes.  One comes upon and grips us as a terror in the night; the other comes as a revelation of wonder and greatness and causes us to bow and worship.  One forces its ways upon us and then captures us; the other awaits our free surrender.  One robs us of sleep, freedom, and life; the other grants us rest, hope, and love.  Both stand before us ready to define who we are; both shape the manner in which we live.

Real dangers lurk in the night, just around the corner … ready to surprise and capture us at any moment.  When we do not fear God, we stand in genuine danger of forfeiting all hope against the terrors of this life.

Reading CD atop Pinnacle Mtn, Arkansas

Church Dogmatics, Volume 1, Part 1 is a revision of Barth’s first offer of dogmatics.  The Doctrine of the Word of God, published in 1927, was the first volume of what was to be Christian Dogmatics in Outline.  In the Preface of the 1932 rewrite, Barth explains why he had “to begin again at the beginning, saying the same thing, but in a very different way” (xi).  He had done something of the same with his Romerbrief (1919, revised 1921), seeking to overturn nineteenth century theological liberalism.  In his own estimation, the first go at dogmatics had not gone far enough and was in need of a revision based upon what he had learned “both historically and materially” (xi) in the intervening years.

Among the changes, Barth mentions …

1. Church Dogmatics, I,1 is more expansive and thus contains only half the material of the single volume of the first edition.  Barth covers the same ground in two parts rather than one.  His aim is “to make more extensive soundings and lay broader foundations” (xii) in this fuller discussion.
2. Church Dogmatics includes the feature of “interposed sections in small print” in which Barth explores “biblio-theological presuppositions and the historico-dogmatic and polemical relations” (xii) of text in the larger type.  He suggests that these sections can be skipped, if one is not a ‘gourmet theologian’; and yet, treasures, not to be missed, lie in the smaller font.
3. Barth shifts from Christian to Church Dogmatics.  With the change, he commits himself “to show that from the very outset dogmatics is not a free science.  It is bound to the sphere of the Church, where alone it is possible and meaningful” (xiii).  As such, theology remains tied and responsible to the Church.
4. The revision is necessary in order to exclude what might appear as “a foundation, support, or justification in philosophical existentialism” (xiii).  He explains that the first edition opened the possibility of continuing along the path of German Liberal Theology leading to the “destruction of Protestant theology and the Protestant church.”  The revision is meant to expunge any conceivable grounds of continuation along this path.
5. Barth writes for the sake of the Evangelical Church – “The community in and for which I have written is that of the Church and not a community of theological endeavour” (xv).  He explains that there are programs, theologies, and fashions the Church must oppose, if it is to be the Church in the situation in which it finds itself.

Barth closes his Preface with a brief sketch of the six volumes that are to follow and the admission that it will take “many years to carry out the plan as now envisaged” (xvii).  From this resolute beginning, he labors for over thirty years addressing the Church as the Church with the concern that she not be less than the Church.

Dec. 1955, Source: Karl Barth Archive, Basel, photo by Maria Netter

As you and I anticipate a reading journey through Church Dogmatics in 2012, it would be helpful to know something of its author, Karl Barth (1886-1968).  Born in Basel, Switzerland, Barth spent the majority of his childhood in Berne where his father, Fritz Barth, was Professor of Church History and New Testament Exegesis.  At age 16, Barth decided to become a theologian and began his studies at Berne in 1904 (age 18).  In addition to Berne, he studied in Berlin, Tübingen, and Marburg.  In 1909 he served as an apprentice pastor in Geneva, and from 1911 to 1921 he was pastor of a small church in the village of Safenwil. While at Safenwil, he wrote his Epistle to the Romans (Der Römerbrief, 1919, rev. 1921) marking a decisive departure from the thought of his teachers (Adolf von Harnack, Wilhelm Herrmann) and German Protestant Liberal theology of the day.  As Professor of theology in Göttingen (1921-25), Münster (1925-30), and Bonn (1930-35), Barth offered an alternative theological vision for the church.  Because he was an outspoken critic of the Nazi party and refused to swear allegiance to Adolf Hitler, he was forced to leave Germany in 1935.  The Barmen Declaration (1934) of the German Confessing Church was chiefly the work of Barth.  Leaving Germany, he returned to Switzerland and became Professor in Basel (1935–62). Barth married Nelly Hoffmann in 1913 and had five children (four sons and a daughter).  He died in Basel on December 10, 1968.

As a husband, father, pastor, teacher, and dogmatician, Barth was certainly a flawed man but one upon whom a great gift was bestowed.  Above all, he was a man seeking to serve steadfastly the Church of his day with keen critique and theological vision.

Over the course of three decades, Barth methodologically detailed his theology in Church Dogmatics (Kirchliche Dogmatik).  Written and published between 1932 and 1967, and totaling thirteen volumes, six million words, Dogmatics remained unfinished at his death.  As one of the greatest theological work of all times and certainly the most significant theological statement for the 20th century, Church Dogmatics begs to be read.

And yet, reading this gigantic work is a gigantic undertaking.  The shelf-load of imposing volumes and theologically thick and wordy sentences can undo the intentions of the most capable reader.  Reading the Dogmatics requires dogged determination, resolve and perspective.  As I begin, only Volume I, Part 1: The Doctrine of the Word of God, lies in my view.  The outline of these 489 pages is as follows:

EDITOR’S PREFACE
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION I, Part 1
§ 1. The Task of Dogmatics
§ 2. The Task of Prolegomena to Dogmatics

CHAPTER 1. THE WORD OF GOD AS THE CRITERION OF DOGMATICS
§ 3. Church Proclamation as the Material of Dogmatics
§ 4. The World of God in its Threefold Form
§ 5. The Nature of the Word of God
§ 6. The Knowability of the Word of God
§ 7. The Word of God, Dogma and Dogmatics

CHAPTER II. THE REVELATION OF GOD
PART I. THE TRIUNE GOD
§ 8. God in His Revelation
§ 9. The Triunity of God
§ 10. God the Father
§ 11. God the Son
§ 12. God the Spirit

Volume 1, Part 2, which takes up the Incarnation and the Holy Spirit, stands in the wings but out of sight, as do the other eleven tomes.

As with anything of value, there is no gain without pain, and thus it is with the Dogmatics.  If one reads only to reaffirm what one already knows, or to reinforce one’s prior convictions, or solely for inspiration, then Barth will surely disappoint.  Only as one pushes through page after page, does one catch the rhythm and sense of Barth’s method and language, emphasis and meaning.  So, take the first volume in hand, turn to the opening page, take a deep breath, and let the reading begin!

To the inhabitants of L’Aquila, life had appeared stable and safe, calm and certain, and yet forces in the depths of the earth were shifting in opposing directions and tension that had been building for some time suddenly erupted into a massive earthquake.  Surely they thought, ‘How could such a cataclysmic event happen in our town?’

Earthquakes result from seismic waves originating far beneath the surface in what is called the lithosphere.  These waves occur because slippage at fault lines or a fault plane and these eventually manifest themselves at the surface as an earthquake.  Stress builds at the point of slippage until it “breaks” or ruptures, releasing the stored energy that travels up and into the surface, causing tremors that split the earth, shake buildings and put people on their knees.  It may take years or decades for a shift in the lithosphere to manifest itself at the surface, and yet, the potential is there whether seen or not.

Giuliani, L’Aquila, and earthquakes – What could these possibly have to do with church and mission?  Plenty!  I see at least four parallels.

First, a quake is coming.  Oh, it may not be an actual earth-shaking kind of quake, such as ones we have witnessed recently in Japan, Italy, and Chile.  Rather it may be a cataclysmic quake of the physical, social, economic, or psychological variety.  We may think that everything is stable and calm in life, and yet, slippage is occurring deep beneath the surface and stress is building.  One day, when we least expect it, rupture will occur, and everything will be shaken, everyone will be brought to his or her knees.

History gives witness to the uncertainty of status and security – stable existence.  Science has not and cannot solve all environmental and medical problems; technology has not reconciled and united people of differing races and classes; no matter what political party is in power peace and posterity allude us, and no man or woman is able to escape death and decay.  We stand, individually and collectively, on a fault line, and the rupture of life in some form is our future – jobs will disappear, friends will betray, cancer will invade, loved ones will die, unity will disintegrate, despair will overwhelm.  Events on the surface might indicate otherwise but deep within the lithosphere slippage has already occurred and stress is building.

We might think because we are Americans, or have status in the community, or identify as Christians that we are immune to quakes.  But there is no immunity from, or inoculation against quakes.  They are no respecter of persons.  To think that we can avoid quakes is an illusion, a false hope.

There is nothing wrong with hoping to avoid quakes, and yet, this is not real hope.  Real hope begins in seeing government, money, religion, sports, structures of society, and possessions for what they are – necessary but tentative, worthy of our care, participation, and investment but not our lives.  Hope is real and able to withstand seismic destruction when centered in the person of Jesus Christ and focused on the eternal purposes.

Second, an alarm is being raised.  We must listen carefully to the Giampaolo Giulianis in our midst.  Mission experts are warning us that the foundation of church and missions has shifted to the point of breaking.  They are telling us that in order for us to be the people of God in the coming quakes there must be a radical change in our outlook and practices.  For example, David Smith traces the historical course of Western, modern missions and concludes that it “has lost its credibility and can no longer survive,” unless there is a drastic and fundamental change.[ii] Smith is not alone in his judgment.  Wilbert Shenk states that “re-visioning” must take place in the “Christendom assumptions and habits of mind” that continue to “determine the conceptual framework,” especially for those who participate in the church and global mission.[iii] Douglas Hall concludes that “presumption upon the past power and glory of Christendom is perhaps the greatest deterrent to faith’s real confession in our present historical context.”[iv] David Bosch warns of a crisis in missions due to “a fundamental paradigm shift, not only in mission or theology, but in the experience of the whole world.”[v] The crisis is due to “an inadequate foundation for mission and ambiguous missionary motives and aims” that “lead to an unsatisfactory missionary practice.”  He suggests that an alternative paradigm for mission must be constructed.  Hendrik Kraemer declares, “We do not stand at the end of mission.”  Rather, “we stand at the definite end of a specific period or era of mission, and the sooner we see this and accept this with all our heart, the better.  We are called to a new ‘pioneer task’ which will be more demanding and less romantic than the heroic deeds of the past missionary era.”[vi]

These missionaries, teachers, and friends of the church and mission, who have spent their entire lives reading the signs, have decided it is time to sound the alarm.  They are saying, if we do not respond to the mounting tensions, if we neglect the ‘pioneer task’, we will soon find ourselves sitting under the rubble of worn and antiquated mission structures and means without a witness.  Heeding their warnings means refusing to rely on the familiar, comfortable, or stable.  Instead we must look to what the Spirit is doing and listen for his directives toward new ways of witness and love.  The emergency situation brought on by quakes calls for different types of structures and alliances, adjustment of rules and principles, and radicalization of our forms of witness.

Third, mission happens in the midst of the quake.  Sitting in a prison cell in Philippi, Paul and Silas experienced “a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken” (Acts 16:26).  Seeing cell doors open and assuming that everyone had escaped, the jailer decided to kill himself rather than face the authorities.  Paul and Silas called out, “Do yourself no harm.  We are still here.”  The jailer “came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas,” and asked, “Sirs what must I do be saved?”  From within the prison cell, witness was extended.  In the midst of the quake, hope was offered.  If all we do is promote and practice church and mission as the casual undertaking of respectable people, as if all is safe and sane, then we will wake up one day debilitated and victimized by the quake rather than able to offer hope and witness.  Quakes are the stuff of mission, just as the cross is the means of salvation.  Either we will flee the tremors, or we will offer hope in the midst of falling debris.

Fourth, tremors can already be felt.  We really don’t need the experts to tell us that the ground is shifting.  As I look at the landscape of church and mission, I see structures that I thought indestructible collapsing before my eyes, powerful and stately people have been brought low, and proven methodologies now looks irrelevant and silly.  We can either turn our faces from the obvious, ignore the signs of collapse, and act as if everything will be fine, or we can call the crisis by its proper name, affirm who God has called us to be, and create new and vibrant structures, alliances, and means for witness.  Even though the quake will with certainty erupt and surely change the entire landscape, isn’t it far better, more beneficial for the church and its mission, if we take preemptive action and not just sleep through the tremors?

Our vision for church and mission must undergo a thorough and continuous transformation.  Mission structures, evangelistic methods, church programs, and theological formulations that have provided surface solutions in the good times will be no match for the coming rupture.  As with the officials in L’Aquila, a state of stability and serenity can lull us into thinking we are secure and safe.  Instead of opposing, censuring or shunning those who disturb the serenity of the church with their exclamations that the mission edifice is starting to sway and buckle, we should embrace these agitators in order that we might together re-read the Scriptures concerning the mission of the triune God, pray earnestly for wisdom and insight, and humbly seek the Spirit’s guidance and power.

The question for each of us is quite simple: When the ground shakes will we be awake and ready – will we be the people of God?

[i] See http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/apr/05/laquila-earthquake-prediction-giampaolo-giuliani.

[ii] David Smith, Mission After Christendom (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2003), 4.

[iii] Wilbert R Shenk, Write the Vision: The Church Renewed, 1st ed. (Valley Forge, Pa: Trinity Press International, 1995), 52.

[iv] Douglas John Hall, The End of Christendom and the Future of Christianity (Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2002), 3.

[v] David J. Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1991), 4, 5.

[vi] Kraemer cited in Bosch, Transforming Mission, 8.

All good and worthy activity can lapse into training people in how to exist for the sake of the church.  We can subtly communicate that one’s highest calling is to support the organizational objectives of the church, to show up at every church event, and to speak and behave in a churchly manner.  The objectives can become getting people into the church building and then teaching them our language, disconnecting them from old friends, reconnecting them to us, re-arranging their schedule around church events, and instructing them to give time, money and service to support the church.  In so doing, we risk reorienting their lives solely toward church, and thus, making them into churchly Christians.  In the end, they become ghettoized.

To ensure that means remains means and not become ends, we must continually ask – Does our activity lead toward the formation of character and the development of competencies that will move people toward faithful presence and clear witness in the world?  If we only teach people how to be morally good and to behave in church, then we have failed.  They must be formed in such a way that they can live – fully, faithfully live – in the world – at work, school, home, on the road, at the sporting event, on vacation, at the family reunion, at the funeral, in the hospital, during elections, in job loss, at news of cancer, in an earthquake, or in a national disaster.

In Letters and Papers from Prison, Dietrich Bonhoeffer conceives of the Christian life as not lived toward religion but toward the world.  “The ‘religious act’ is always something partial; ‘faith’ is something whole, involving the whole of one’s life.  Jesus calls men, not to a new religion, but to life” (362).  Christianity for the sake of Christianity, holiness for the sake of holiness, and church for the sake of church are insufficient aims.  As Christ came for others, loved others, and suffered and died for others, we are called to do the same.  Christians, according to Bonhoeffer, “must live a ‘secular’ life and thereby share in God’s suffering. … It is not the religious act that makes the Christian, but participation in the sufferings of God in the secular life” (361).  To be alive in Christ is to be alive to the world; to give our lives to Christ is to give ourselves to the world.

Among actions that ghettoize Christians, two are probably most common.  First, we demonize culture, and thereby, encourage Christians to withdraw from the world.  When culture is named as the enemy, we explicitly communicate that people should oppose or fear ‘the culture’.  The truth is that the gospel cannot be separated from ‘the culture’, as it is always clothed in culture of some sort – language, technology, structures, music, processes, forms, etc.  Thus, the gospel happens in the stream of life, and must continually intersect with culture, speak into it, and become party to it (contextualization).  This is not the weakness of the gospel but its power.  The gospel must dress itself in ‘the culture’, or it is not present and at work.  And by being present and at work in the culture, gospel mends and restores culture to its higher purposes.  But by naming ‘the culture’ as the enemy, we merely urge people to join a ghettoized religious culture and rob the wider culture of the salt and light of the gospel.

Second, we segregate mission from evangelism.  We have made mission what groups of specialized, highly trained professionals do in Japan, Cambodia, or Peru (the world).  On the other hand, evangelism is what the rest of us do occasionally as part of our church obligation.  Thus, missionaries go to the world and become like the world to which they are called.  Church members go to church and go out from the church now and then to evangelize people into the church.

Divides between church and world, mission and evangelism are artificial and unfortunate.  There should not be two opposing cultures – church and world, two activities – mission and evangelism, or two kinds of people – missionaries and church members.  The church exists in and for the world.  Every Christ follower is meant to participate in God’s mission in and to the world.  Whenever the church exists for its own growth, its programs, and its success, the church looses sight of its essential purpose of forming and equipping Christ followers to be a faithful presence in and a clear witness to the world.

The aim of forming people toward the world has caused a group of pastors, missionaries, and educators to create a unique, church-based, world-focused learning experience called Panorama.  Panorama is forty plus web-based lessons designed to be facilitated in a local church setting.  The lessons address issues related to faithful presence and clear witness, such as approaching people of other faiths, cross-cultural living, contextualization of the gospel, language learning, teamwork, etc.  We believe these approaches and skills, once thought to be only necessary for missionaries in international settings, are essential for the formation of believers who live in such places as Waco, Tulsa, and Little Rock.

Panorama has been developed with three premises in mind: life transformation is the goal, facilitated group learning is the means, and reflective practice is the dynamic.  Therefore, those who facilitate Panorama in their local church must understand these aims and processes.  Thus far, approximately seventy people from twenty churches have participated in seven Facilitators Workshops.  I invite you to join us for the next workshop on April 13-14 at First Baptist Church, Woodway, Texas.  To learn more about Panorama and to register for the upcoming workshop, go to GCPN – Panorama,  or contact Remey Terrell at remey.terrell@fbca.org.

The presence of the church in the world must be more than its facilities or programs, and the witness of the church must be more than what is spoken from the pulpit or in a Sunday School class.  The church is those of us who have been captured by Jesus Christ and are continually being formed to live and speak in such a way that those with whom we work, play, eat, weep, celebrate, listen to music, view movies, drink coffee, and live life may see truth and experience love.  In this manner, we – the church – live toward a wider vista, join a greater mission.

Along with these descriptors, the adjective ‘missional’ is in vogue, and thus – the missional church.  The intent is to indicate that rather than mission being solely what the church does, mission is who the church is.  Rather than mission being conceived as trafficking the gospel from one place to another, mission is found everywhere.  Behind this move is the re-conception of mission as the mission of God, missio Dei.  Since mission is ultimately about the person and activity of the Triune God as the ‘Sent One’, mission must likewise be descriptive of the nature of the church.  Much of the missional turn was initiated and defined in the 1998 publication of The Missional Church: A Vision for the Sending of the Church in North America.  Since that time, it seems ‘missional has gone viral.

Almost every church I encounter self-describes as a missional church.  Everyday people, not just pastors and missionaries, now speak about missional leadership, missional vocation, missional lifestyle, missional responsibility, missional communities, missional politics, and so on.  It sounds as though missional is the next wave of church-talk; an alternative to purpose-driven or seeker-sensitive.  Or is it that missional has become the latest packaged and promoted denominational program?  One only needs to Google the word to see how thoroughly missional church language has become.  Across the Internet one can buy missional bags, take a missional cruise, do a missional Bible study, use missional metrics, and learn how to become a missional mom or monk.

Missional, it seems, has become vacuous and somewhat meaningless; a trendy term that means whatever we want it to mean.  The sum affect is that as an adjective that qualifies, missional allows the church to absolutize who she is and what she does – the opposite of what was intended with missio Dei.  So, missional church can become church writ large.  In the end, church can exploit mission for the justification and promotion of whatever cause or program it deems worthy or it chooses to undertake.

If mission is the movement of Father, Son and Spirit toward humanity and is to define the church, then the conversation must move beyond mission as describing or modifying church – missional – to mission generating existence and purpose for the church.  Thus, it is far better to say, the church exists by mission.

The church exists as a result of mission, and its ongoing purpose exists because of divine mission.  And yet, to say the church is mission goes too far, since church can and does refuse to live by God’s mission.  The mission of God precedes and supersedes the church, and thus, the church exists as it points to, lives out, and speaks of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Through such pointing, living and speaking, the church exists by mission.  Emil Brunner’s oft-quoted words aptly states the matter – “The Church exists by mission, just as fire exists by burning.  Where there is no mission, there is no Church; and where there is neither Church nor mission, there is no faith” (The Word and the World, 1931, p. 108).

As long as the church exists for itself – its consumption of religious services, its numerical growth, or its influence and place within society – or even exists for others – those outside the faith, those on the margins, or the nation and its causes – the church can quickly and quite unintentionally find itself defined by something other than the mission of God.  As the people of God gathered in local churches, we do not define God’s mission.  Rather, it defines us.  Such a reorientation of the church’s existence requires a reaffirmation (rediscovery) of who God is, and what he has done and is doing in the world.  The church can only then reimagine its existence as approximating and being sustained by God’s mission.

If the church exists by mission, then …
What must happen for churches to reimagine their place in God’s mission?
What should pastors and staff members do to lead churches in their re-imaging of God’s mission?
What must denominational and parachurch organizations forgo in order to truly serve the church’s mission existence?

So, how are Christians to respond to this new reality? 

The response of some is to do whatever they can to mimic their surroundings.  Thus, they feel they must forgo distinctions that are out of step with the wider culture in order for Christianity to remain viable and relevant.  So, in speech and action, they seek to excise exclusive language and to avoid an uncomfortable stance on issues related to morality, gender, and eternal destiny.  Their mission, they say, is to accompany society in such a way that they have a voice in the national/cultural conversation.

Fear is one of the motivators for these Christians.  They fear being marginalized by society, so they carefully measure their words and actions in order not to alienate.  The result is that society determines what the concerns, priorities, and sensibilities of the church are to look and sound like.  And while this is in many ways appropriate and healthy, a line can easily be crossed and the church loose its distinct voice and its cause begins looking no different than that of any other club or group.  An indication that this line has been crossed is when the standards for the kind of music used in worship, the way the church markets itself, the services it offers, the subject matter of sermons, and the causes that the church undertakes are set chiefly by external forces rather than internal convictions.

The tendency of other Christians in the face of the new reality is to mount a vigorous defense of the church, to reiterate its rightful place within American society, or to redouble efforts to bolster it’s reputation and profile.  The shift underway threatens the existence of the church, and thus, these Christian feel compelled do whatever they can to secure the church’s place, protect its interests, and ensure that Christians get what they need.  The end result is that much of the church’s mission becomes the garnering of resources necessary to perpetuate who it is and to protect its interests.

Fear is likewise a motivator for these Christians.  Specifically they fear being taken advantage of by the wider society or losing what they feel rightfully belongs to them.  These fears also impact their speech and action.  They employ insider language in order to create a sense of belonging for those on the inside and exclude those on the outside.  And while this language provides a secure connection and identity for brothers and sisters on the inside, it also categorically defines the outsider.

As a result, these Christians act out their faith in sacred rather than public space.  They travel to a specific building called church to do Christian kinds of things.  They gather within havens of agreed beliefs about morality, politics, and gender.  The safety of these havens protects them from threatening, worldly influences and forces.  And while they must make necessary forays into the world to work, shop, and attend public events, it is in the sacred space that life makes sense.  Thus, mission for these Christians means attracting those on the outside to the sacred space and then convincing them to defect.

In both cases, response is not a matter of conservative versus liberal, mega versus small, rural versus urban, or Baptists versus Methodists.  Rather, in both we find two ways in which Christians of all theological persuasions and denominational affiliations and churches of all sizes and locations deal with the changing context.  At one extreme, the mission of the church is to accommodate.  On the other side, mission is to attract.

There is a third response.  Rather than being for or against society, Christians set themselves toward the mission of God.  Orientation and response are not ultimately determined by changes in society but by the unchanging and relentless purposes of God.  The mission of God rises above mere accommodation and attraction to a way of being in and for the world defined by who God is and how God acts toward the world.

Mission and missional are used by both those who accommodate and those who attract in order to describe and justify what they do.  And yet, before describing mission as what we do, mission must be understood as divine being and action.  Mission does not belong to us, rather it originates from and is defined by who God is and what God does.  Rather than accommodating the spirit and patterns of society, God is distinctively other.  Rather than submitting to a temporal, local agenda, God’s ways are higher than any person or society’s ways.  Rather than seeking to be relevant or current, God makes all things new.  Rather than protecting what is his, God gives.  Rather than looking out for his own interests, God loves.   Rather than pulling everything to himself, God sends.  God, who creates and sustains all things, so loves the world, that He gives his only begotten Son.  This is mission; this is the mission of God.

For our response to the current shift in American society to be faithful and true, it must begin with an acknowledgment of God’s mission and an alignment of our minds and hearts, words and actions with this mission.  Christopher Wright says, “it is not so much the case that God has a mission for his church in the world, as that God has a church for his mission in the world.  Mission was not made for the church; the church was made for mission–God’s mission” (The Mission of God, 62).  Missions goes awry when the church acts though mission begins and ends with it.

The mission of God encompasses more than a few verses in the New Testament and includes more than missionaries who live and work in cross-cultural settings.  How it impacts the whole of the church is a longer conversation than this post, but I will suggest four ways in which we might acknowledge and align our lives with it.

• Interpretation.  The mission of God should guide the way in which we read and interpret scripture.  Reading the Bible, both Old and New Testament, as a missionary text about a missionary God changes everything – the way we view our purpose, God’s action in history, the end of all creation, etc.
• Inversion.  The mission of God should critique the manner in which we speak, act, and love.  If we allow it, the mission of God provides a lens through which everything is turned upside down – is inverted.
• Imagination.  The mission of God should frame the way we imagine the world – economics, race, politics, relationships, vocation – and only then will it affect our actions.  As a missional reading of scripture inverts our way of seeing reality, we can begin imagining what could be, what should be.
• Implementation.  The mission of God calls us to action.  If acknowledged and understood, the mission of God will not allow us to passively acquiesce to or quietly retreat from our culture but will demand that we respond as Christ did – with our lives.

We do not live above God’s mission, as if it is ours to control and manage.  His mission is not a program to run or resources to manage.  Mission is his words and actions of love and grace toward the world.  And while we are always the object of this mission and never the subject of its design and intent, we can become participants through God’s gracious invitation and by his empowerment.  But in order to do so, we must set aside our fears and re-read scripture, re-think our lives, re-imagine the world, and re-enact God’s glory, passion and love, in light of the mission of God.

Two defining questions …
Which mission guides my response to the changing society around me?
Whose mission gives definition to who I am and how I act?

The Church is the pilgrim people of God.  It is on the move – hastening to the ends of the earth to beseech all men to be reconciled to God, and hastening to the end of the time to meet its Lord who will gather all into one.  Therefore the nature of the Church is never to be finally defined in static terms, but only in terms of that to which it is going [...]  When the Church ceases to be one, or ceases to be missionary, it contradicts its own nature. Yet the Church is not defined by what it is, but by that End to which it moves.  And the power of the End now works in the Church, the power of the Holy Spirit who is the earnest of the inheritance still to be revealed. (The Household of God, pp. 18-19).

Thank you, Chad.

To the modern mind (not that BrettG has a typical modern mind), listening to the Spirit is a bit nebulous and subjective.  We prefer a rational or programmatic approach to most everything in life, even our religion and devotion.  So, we rely chiefly on reasoned or formulaic answers rather than those generated by processes that are Spirit-induced or Spirit-guided.  This is not to say we should forgo reason altogether or that there is nothing to be gained from processes that people in other places have found helpful.  The difference is that reasoning and formula can take us only so far and routinely give us expected, uniform answers when what is needed are new and local answers.

The Spirit is not predictable nor is he uniform.  He creates new understandings and thus brings into being new kinds of obedience.  Because every situation is unique and personalities vary wildly, new answers and new kinds of obedience should be the norm not the exception.  It seems to me that listening to the Spirit is a necessity not an option, if we are to respond faithfully to particular contexts and innovate unique solutions via local processes.

In order to listen to the Spirit, I have to … well … stop and listen.  This sounds simple, but it is really quite hard.  Whereas a ten-step program or formula requires that I merely do step one, step two, step three and so on til I complete ten steps, listening to the Spirit necessitates that I journey down uncharted, unscripted paths.  It entails interruptions in my normal and recognizable processes and involves the centering of mind and emotions on hearing the Spirit.

Hearing the Spirit includes …

• living in the hope that the Spirit will speak.  When the disposition and longing of my heart are to hear from God, I am open to hearing what the Spirit is saying.
• yielding to the convicting work of the Spirit through which my pride, ethnocentrism, and prejudice are exposed.  My experience is that the Spirit’s words are usually addressed first to me and then to wider concerns.
• reading scripture.  As I read how God dealt with men and women of the past, I understand better how he speaks today and what he might be saying to me.
• turning down the volume on other voices (TV, radio, music, twitter, facebook) and be still before the Spirit.  Possibly I cannot/do not hear the Spirit because background noises dominate and crowd out the voice of the Spirit.
• listening to what the Spirit is saying to my community of faith.  While the Spirit speaks to me as an individual, the chances are that he is speaking the same message to those with whom I have relationship – wife, friends or church members.

So once again .. too often and too quick we look for globalized answers before listening to what the Spirit is saying to his church.  Don’t rely on globalized answers – rather, stop and listen to what the Spirit is saying.  You and I will hear Spirit-formed answers for our particular contexts as we live with hope toward the Spirit, yield our lives to the Spirit, open the scriptures, turn down other voices, and listen to what the Spirit is saying to our faith community.

It is obvious what this modern mindset has done to church life and missions.  Along with areas such as medicine, law, and psychology, ministry and missions have been professionalized.  Church and missions have developed a special body of knowledge that only the initiated and professionally trained can access and utilize.  And thus, the work of ministry and missions has been entrusted, or relegated, to the professionals.  The laity, in turn, go to school, marry, work, and play in the world, at a distance from the church, as experts in other areas but not in ministry and missions.  This professionalization impacts the way in which the church interacts with the world in at least three ways.

First, because of the existence of professionalized experts, ministry and missions become abstract systems to the majority of those in the church.  Theology, missiology, and pastoral care are areas of technical and theoretical knowledge for the few rather than the confessed and practiced conviction of the whole.

Second, lay people in their deference to the expert are given permission to disengage from ministry and missions.  Because ministry and missions require expert knowledge and special credentials, the laity feels incompetent or unqualified to serve.

Third, and this is the crucial point, the work of the farmer, schoolteacher, and dentist become distinguished from the work of ministry and missions.  The domains of ministry and mission are placed over against and above other domains, and judged as different and separate vocations.  Thus, while one is the work of God, and the other is just work.

Instead of professionalized systems that restrict knowledge of and participation in the mission of God, the expansion of ministry emphasized through the biblical teachings of soul competency and the priesthood of all believers must be underlined.  Instead of the faithfulness of only a select few, each believer needs to see his or her work as the work of God.  Explanation and demonstration of a vibrant theology of work in which gifts, talents, and vocational callings of the whole body are affirmed and employed in the mission of God must become the main vocation of the religious professional.

In order for the church to be faithful in the late modern age, men and women in local congregations need to find their voice in the world.  They must see their labor, sweat, and effort within the marketplace, classroom, business, field, or clinic as the work of God, and not over against or contrary to it.  Witness and service in the present, late modern age must be more like a chorus of voices, singing various parts, than a solo sung by a professional.

Questions that I am asking myself …

• Is there a place for the professional minister and missionary?  If so, then what should his or her main task be?
• Should there be more emphasis place upon and credence given to the ‘bi-vocational’ minister?
• What are the essential components of a theology of work?
• What would happen if everyone in my local congregation saw their vocation and work as central to God’s mission?