Hide-and-go-seek without the "hiding"

© Image by Tony Bennett from West Wales, via flickr.com. 

Used by permission. 

On warm summer nights when I was a young boy, after it had gotten kind of dark,  my friends and I would play a game called "Kick the Can." A variation of hide-and-go-seek, a person would place an empty soup can in the middle of the street and then kick it as hard as he/she could down the street. All players would scatter to hiding places, except for the unlucky soul whose turn it was to find those hiding: that person ran as fast as possible to retrieve the can and place it in its original spot. If the person who was looking happened to spot someone who was hiding, then both would make a mad dash to the can. If the person hiding got there first, s/he would kick the can again (releasing anyone who had already been found) and go hide again. If the person looking for others got to the can first, then s/he would grab the can, tap it against the pavement, and name the person found.

© Photo by Damon Meledones from Washington DC and Valencia, via flickr.com.

Used by permission.

I was recently reminded that the Greek word for church in the New Testament is ekklesia. The word comes from a verb which means "called out." If you go to this link, you'll see that the word means "a gathering of citizens called out from their homes into some public place, an assembly."  http://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?Strongs=G1577&t=KJV .

When it comes to mission, I think one of the issues the Church is dealing with is that right now we believers seem far more comfortable with "hiding" in our comfortable, familiar communities, than with "seeking" or being "called out" by God from our comfortable, familiar settings. We count it a victory when we can bring in people to come to worship, when in fact that's only half the job. God is calling us out of our hiding spots to join God in Kingdom work. What that is will vary from person to person, but two things remain: God calls us out, and God has a Kingdom job waiting for us.

Running on Fumes

Recently, a friend offered to drive me to an appointment because I did not have access to my car. She did it out of joy (we hadn't seen each other in a while and we got to catch up) and she did it out of concern (she knew I was stranded).

It would have been awkward if, ten minutes into the drive, her car had sputtered and coasted to a halt out of gas. There is no way my friend would have come to get me without enough gas in the tank; at the very least, she would have picked me up and headed to the gas station and given me the chance to help fuel the car.

I am struck that sometimes churches engage in mission without enough gas in the tank (without even checking the gauge!), without tapping God's deep and refreshing spiritual well. Church members may have passion for mission, but also needed is a clear focus on God's guidance, an open prayer life, and a humility that comes from collaboration with fellow believers. Reading Unbinding the Gospel: Real Life Evangelism  by Martha Grace Reese (Chalice Press, 2008) reminded me just how important spiritual preparation is before putting a new mission in gear.

Both And

I recently told someone "Well, you know, some people consider mission standing on a corner and preaching with a loud speaker, others consider mission opening a homeless shelter." I guess I was trying to make it sound like the definition of mission is inclusive of many different perspectives, but in the end I think I portrayed the precise definition of mission as either trivial or elusive.

Mission is not a choice between evangelism OR social concern. Mission is not a choice between articulating one's faith OR acting out one's faith. Mission really has to be both.

Donde manda capitán, no gobierna marinero (Where a captain is in charge, a sailor can't call the shots)

The title of this entry is a common saying in Mexico. You probably know areas in your life where it is clear who's in charge (at work? in the community?) and it is equally clear that YOU are not in charge. The saying places one in one's place, a place of not being in charge.

OK, I know it sounds a little oppressive. But rather than consider the authoritarian interpretation of the saying, I've been thinking about the freeing concept of mission as being God's mission first and foremost. I find it freeing to say that God is in charge (of mission, of my life, of all). Freeing, but also terribly challenging, because we as Church (bunch of sailors that we are) have to remind ourselves that we need to take our direction from God in all aspects of being Church, especially in the area of mission.

(By the way, it's worth noting that for centuries a boat has been one of the symbols for the Church. Read more on this link, which is the explanation of the World Council of Churches logo http://www.oikoumene.org/resources/wcc-logo.html )

So, Captain: what's the direction you want for the boat?

Time Travel

For the last three days (the first ones of my sabbatical) I have been reading "Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission" by David J. Bosch while sitting in the top floor of the Main Library, overlooking downtown Indy. It is a dense but fascinating book which I understand is the text for people studying mission in seminaries.

Incidentally, while driving back and forth to the library, I have been listening to the book on CD "The Time Traveler's Wife."

While the plot line of both books is not merging in my head, I do have a sense that I am time traveling even just a little as Bosch starts his book by looking at how Jesus went about "doing mission" (or basically, how Jesus did what Jesus did), followed by how the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, the book of Acts, and then Paul's letters frame what mission was for them.

Bosch, among others, draws the distinction of when Jesus and his followers were more about being a movement, as opposed to being an institution (which we would eventually call "The Church"). That idea of that movement was fluid, risk-taking, focused on the kingdom entirely. It is exciting and a bit scary. Reading Bosch it's not hard to imagine how exhilirating those days were when the disciples were following Jesus, or the days/years following Pentecost as the people gathered as a body of believers throughout their known world.

As I consider our church, our very institutional church, I wonder about ways in which our understanding of mission can be more risk-taking and kingdom-focused. That's part of what this little two-month journey of mine hopefully will bring into focus.