The missional church is not just another phase of church life but a full expression of who the church is and what it is called to be and do. The missional church builds upon the ideas of church growth and church health but brings the lessons learned from each into a full-blown missions focus—within their local mission field as well as the ends of the earth. To be missional means to move beyond our church preferences and make missional decisions locally as well as globally (p.49).

In short, it’s the idea that the church has now entered into a more faithful and authentically recognizable edition of itself, and this over against what the church had been in the past. However, what the church had been in the past, as least for these authors, seems to be limited by what they understood the church to be in its “church growth” and “church health” forms. Nonetheless, they hold that the church of the past was missing out on a more proper “full-blown missions focus” because of each era’s inward focus and emphasis on their own preferences. It’s a malady they assert the church still suffers from today:

Missions makes this point: it is not about us and our preferences. It is about his mission and the fact that he sends us. We want to practice our preferences. We want things to be the way we like them. But God wants us to be on mission with him, to be sent to some group of people somewhere, and to minister in a way that meets their needs, not promotes our preferences. When we are functioning as God’s church sent on mission, we will go into different cultures, contexts, and communities. We will proclaim a faithful gospel there in a culturally relevant way, and we will worship in a way that connects to that setting. When the connection is made, the code is broken. God does not tell us that we will always like it. He does say that we always need to function as his missionary church (p.32).

Overall, the authors do have some thoughtful things for us to consider as we go about being the church today. Though I do not agree with all of it, I wholeheartedly agree with their reminder that the message of the church is “repentance and forgiveness of sins to be preached in his name to all nations.” As they note, “When it becomes something other than repentance and forgiveness, then the gospel itself is lost in the process. When we forget that the job of the church is to proclaim the message of repentance and forgiveness of sins, the future of any church is bleak.” (p.39)

Nonetheless, the conversation about being the church invariably comes back to what it really looks like and sounds like to “proclaim a faithful gospel there in a culturally relevant way,” where “we worship in a way that connects to that setting.” In other words, what does it mean to break the code? Ultimately, they feel that for the church to “truly break the code, it needs to move from ‘every member a minister’ to ‘every member a missionary’” (p.69).

However, I think it’s one thing for the body of believers to be at work as the church in their daily vocations, giving witness to Christ and speaking “relevantly” to others, but I think it’s another thing when they gather for worship. I’m not sure if the need for “relevancy” of both settings can be as easily juxtaposed as the authors might like. I am of the mindset that there is something more to the forgiveness of sins than simply making it “relevant” to people. Isn’t there something about it that goes toward actually being forgiven?

Perhaps a better biblical way of understanding relevance is that God is making you relevant to Him through the forgiveness of sins given in Jesus Christ. Without Him you are irrelevant, dead, and damned. For Lutherans, being made relevant to God is no more clearly done than in the Lord’s Supper. That’s why I think Lutherans have historically ordered their worship around the sacraments and framed it by the liturgy—to ensure the forgiveness of sins gets delivered. Thus, I find it curious when humans feel it necessary to reverse the order and make God relevant to us, rather than allowing God to make us relevant to Him.

As such, worship that merely talks about forgiveness has to be reduced to ways of making those conversations, songs, and sermons become relevant to the listener/worshipper/new believer/long time believer. However, worship that delivers the forgiveness of sins moves past the problem of relevancy and actually gives the forgiveness of sins to all believers present.

Thus, out of necessity, the conversation comes back to our understanding of worship. And I will concede that the daily life and the worship life of the believer are connected, but not by way of human relevance, rather, by way of Divine relevance—the forgiveness of sins given to them and taken with them into their daily vocational lives. I think that’s the “code” for bringing the Gospel to the masses. And I think it was a code that was broken hundreds of years ago when the New Testament believers gathered weekly for Word and sacrament worship, received forgiveness, and took it into their daily vocational lives (Acts 2:42-27). They didn’t all become missionaries (yes, I know, some did), but they were all forgiven! And that forgiveness freed them to share it with others in their daily lives.

That we continue to battle over issues of “relevant worship” today seems to imply our various positions regarding the “relevance” of word and sacrament theology (i.e. worship that delivers forgiveness). Herman Sasse critiqued this challenge already in 1948: Martin Luther foresaw four centuries ago the coming of this kind of Protestantism, when in attacking the anti-sacramental Enthusiasts of his day he taught the church of the Augsburg Confession to go forward alone along the difficult and lonesome middle way between non-sacramental Protestantism Enthusiasm and the church of the Pope.

In other words, it’s not easy. Yet, it’s also nothing new. Even so, Sasse notes that in order to take such worship seriously, doctrine has to be taken seriously: If today, to the great blessing of herself and of all Christendom, The Church of the Augsburg Confession still wishes to walk this middle way, if she seeks fully to recover the great liturgical heritage which her spiritual ancestors bequeathed to her but which she has too often blithely squandered and neglected, she must achieve complete clarity on one essential point: A liturgical renewal is impossible unless the church is prepared to take seriously the doctrine which is witnessed to and sung in the liturgy. Liturgy and dogma belong together; you cannot have the one without the other. Dogma represents the doctrinal content—and therefore the truth content—of the liturgy. (Scripture and Church: Selected Essays of Herman Sasse. “Liturgy and Lutheranism,” p.39-40)

Thus, and this question is sure to open a can of worms, do the varying practices of worship among us demonstrate the seriousness (or the lack thereof) in which our doctrine is held? And if worship and doctrine are thus the means to breaking the missional code of the church, shouldn’t we be willing to seriously and collegially talk about them with one another?

As always, this blog endeavors to thoughtfully and collegially talk about the mission of the Holy Christian Church and what it means to be authentically Lutheran, while “discipling all nations” in the 21st century. For those willing to enter the fray, I welcome your constructive thoughts and reactions.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

Such dialogue takes patience and compassion, with a simultaneous commitment to the Word of Truth. And I’m happy to have begun many such dialogues (online and offline). But be assured, I realize that not every question can be settled by means of a friendly discussion. And I do not hold to the superstitious belief that dialog is the infallible means to settling everything. I hold to the truth of God’s Word, and His Word calls us to speak the truth in love (compassion) and not arrogance (Ephesians 4:15).

As such, I think the Gospel reading for this past Sunday (Mark 1:40-45) demonstrates the compassion that is necessary to lead such dialogues: ⁴⁰And a leper came to [Jesus], imploring him, and kneeling said to him, “If you will, you can make me clean.” ⁴¹Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, “I will; be clean.” ⁴²And immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. ⁴³And Jesus sternly charged him and sent him away at once, ⁴⁴and said to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a proof to them.” ⁴⁵But he went out and began to talk freely about it, and to spread the news, so that Jesus could no longer openly enter a town, but was out in desolate places, and people were coming to him from every quarter 

Jesus is moved with “pity.” The Greek word means an overwhelming visceral compassion coming from one’s innards. It’s where you look out at the condition that somebody is in and it compels you with a genuine desire to love them.

Perhaps if the divisions in our Synod viewed each other with this compassion rather than with our typical labels and disdain, greater ground could be gained and greater understanding could be fostered. (As of late, I find the labels that I’ve been given by some to be, well, interesting; while others are simply misinformed).

Nonetheless, maybe before we’re going to be willing to give such compassion, we need to be cleansed. On his death bed Luther wrote, “We are all beggars, this is true.” Thus, like a leper begging for mercy, our Kyries cry out. We need cleansing, not only for our disease (sin/death), but for our condition (uncleanness). Arrogance, pride, and disdain leave no “labeled” Lutheran untouched (yours truly included). And very often we forget to look around and see the other “confessional” and “missional” lepers there with us. Jesus touches both.

He makes us clean! Salvation is proffered. What joy there is to be had! But then, sadly, we start arguing about who of us is being the better leper. One is off to see “the priest” while the other is off to “spread the news.” Surely telling others about what Jesus has done must take precedence? Yet, why then does Jesus give the “stern charge” to the leper “to say nothing to anyone,” but that he was to go show himself to the priest?

What are we to do? Who’s right and who’s wrong? Who is being the better leper? We have to know, ‘cause the social status of a leper is pretty important. It’s a dog eat dog world after all.

Isn’t that just like lepers? Begging for mercy one moment, and then forgetting the compassion they were just given in the next. Perhaps the answer does lie with the priest. Leviticus (chapter 14) reminds us that he was the one appointed by God to cleanse lepers. Yet, it was also the priest(s) who would point the Jews (and us) to the Great High Priest.

Jesus knew that the reentry of a leper into society could not happen apart from a visit to the priest. Sacrifices, cleansing, ritual, and washing had to take place. It was the law. And Jesus had not come to abolish it, but to fulfill it. Sending the leper back to the priest pointed to the fullness of who Jesus was and what he had come to do. Missing out on the priest wouldn’t give a full picture of who Jesus was. The priest pointed to how Jesus would become the Great High Priest—by sacrificing Himself on the cross, cleansing all lepers/sinners (including “confessional” and “missional” sinners), and instituting some new rituals, priests (pastors), and washings along the way (baptism).

Without question, His compassion is for all lepers to enjoy, and for all to share. Without question, the truth and depth of Jesus Christ is for all lepers to enjoy, and for all to share. They go together. Perhaps we (“confessional” and “missional” Lutherans) can rejoice in His truth AND His compassion. And perhaps we can intentionally and collegially talk with each other about what it means for Lutherans to put this truth AND this compassion into practice as the Holy Christian Church.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

Both preachers are relatively young, well known leaders of large congregations. One is evangelical preacher David Platt. He has become well known for his book Radical, which explores the radical demands made by the Gospel upon the believer. The other is Reformed Presbyterian Tullian Tchivdjian. He has become well known for his book, Jesus + Nothing = Everything, which explores the radical sufficiency of Christ for the believer. Both have many thoughtful things to say (books and preaching alike), but they do draw out some distinct differences that various segments of the church are emphasizing.

I recognize that preaching a sermon always has a context, and taking a few sentences out of a sermon runs the risk of misrepresenting what a preacher might actually be saying. Thus, I tried to select quotes from the sermons (which you can listen to at the associated links) that sought to be representative of the entire sermon theme.

The first is a quote from Platt’s 2010 sermon titled “The Gospel Demands Radical Sacrifice:”http://www.vergenetwork.org/2012/01/30/david-platt-the-gospel-demands-radical-sacrifice/

“Jesus requires superior love. Luke 14:26 is the first “If… then he cannot be my disciple” [of Jesus.] “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters– yes, even his own life– he cannot be my disciple.”…I want to be very careful with all the verses that we study because there is a danger that we try to soften the words of Jesus to fit the way that we live… Love for each other springs from who? From our love for God. Loving Him is supreme. It’s superior love… Biblical Christianity sees the supremacy of Christ and is so infatuated with Him, so drawn toward Him, that our love for Him drives everything that we do! It’s a superior love. So the question before you, in light of this verse is, do you love Christ?”

The second is from Tchivdjian’s sermon titled “Free at Last” and was preached at Coral Ridge Presbyterian church this past Sunday, (Feb. 5, 2012). http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tullian/:

In all of Paul’s letters that he wrote, he gives the bottom line of the Gospel right away in two words: grace and peace… Grace being the root of the Gospel, and peace being the fruit of the Gospel. Grace involves the remission of sins; and peace involves, as Martin Luther said, “a happy conscience.” The peace of God which transcends all understanding comes only as we increasingly believe that by grace alone Christ has made peace with God, for us! In other words, we never experience the peace of God that transcends all understanding by looking in! We can only experience the peace of God that transcends all understanding by looking out, and up, at the very fact that Christ made peace with God, for us!

Again, I realize that each sermon has a context. However, I think they sum up the divided emphases within the church.

One feels that Christians are failing to properly love Jesus and therefore their unbelieving neighbor. As a result, countless calls are being made for intensely increased witnessing and superior love for our unbelieving neighbor, because that is what they feel the Gospel demands and true love for Christ requires.

The other emphasis feels that such intense demands and requirements confuse the fullness of the Gospel. It’s not that Christians shouldn’t do these things. Absolutely, they should! Rather, it’s just that they feel such demands cause people to look to themselves rather than to Christ for the meaning of the Gospel. As a result, they feel the Gospel is turned into a law to be obeyed rather than a gift to be received. That is, the 10 commandments already require Christians to intensely love God and neighbor. So the primary message of the Gospel then is not another law to be obeyed, but that it proclaims grace and peace for our miserable failures to do so.

What do you think? What does it mean to believe in Jesus Christ? A pastor friend of mine recently reminded me of how Luther had a knack for making it so simple. In the explanation of the Second Article in his Small Catechism, Luther beautifully summarizes what it is to believe in Jesus—“that I may be His own.” (See the full explanation below).

It’s not first about what I must do. Rather it is first about what Jesus has done. It’s not about my superior love, but His. And as my dear friend put it, “This is much happy news!” For, sinners by definition cannot meet the demands of superior love. Our wretchedness is so complete that we need the supreme and superior love of our Savior Jesus Christ. It’s how we become His. And when we are His, then there is much living and serving to do. But that comes as the fruit of this happy news. Not because it has been demanded from us, but because it has been given to us—because we have been made His own!

[Explanation of the Second Article: I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death, that I may be his own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness, just as He is risen from the dead, lives and reigns to all eternity. This is most certainly true.]    

As always, this blog endeavors to thoughtfully and collegially talk about the mission of the Holy Christian Church and what it means to be authentically Lutheran, while “discipling all nations” in the 21st century. For those willing to enter the fray, I welcome your constructive thoughts.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

I have chronicled each critique and have been impressed by their candor. But I remain equally flabbergasted by the unawareness of these admissions by some “missional” minded folks in my own church body (LCMS). (Please remember, I am absolutely for missions, for reaching the lost, and for growing the Kingdom of God! But I am also for being honest about the way my Lutheran theology shapes how Lutherans do that.)

Nonetheless, I’m now in an even greater state of amazement over one of the most recent critiques of the North American church by missional guru Skye Jethani. In short, he notes the church is in desperate need of recognizing, get this, the value of vocation!

I have long urged the need for the church to recover and celebrate the depth of our Lutheran understanding of vocation. It’s a doctrine that became integral to my own congregation’s mission and strategic plan (see the diagram for a snapshot of our congregation’s mission strategy). My forthcoming book emphasizes its importance. And I have written about vocation numerous times on this blog.

What Jethani says is utterly affirming and deeply insightful about what has been missing in “missional” theology (particularly for young adults), but is aptly present in our historic Lutheran theology:

[T]he missional approach relies on a young adult’s spare time, extra resources, and expendable energy. It doesn’t capture a core identity issue the way family-based ministries do. When a church helps a 40-year-old mother with her struggling marriage and anxiety-driven parenting, it is applying Christian faith to the center of her life and identity. Missional ministries that try to engage a single 30-year-old don’t accomplish this because they ignore what’s at the center of his life to nibble at the margins. And what is at the center for most young adults? Vocation.

Despite being a significant focus of Reformation theology for centuries within the Protestant tradition, contemporary churches are largely silent on the issue…

What does it mean to be in business to glorify God and bless others? How does Christ want me to engage the health care sector? Does being an artist matter to God? How do I serve in the public school system as a follower of Christ? Apart from not being dishonest, does it matter how I run my business? I’ve been offered two jobs, how do I discern which one to take? Does it matter? Can I be a soldier and be a Christian? Does my work have any meaning apart from the money I earn and give to the church?

My guess is most church leaders would have to think a lot longer to answer any of these questions. We have not been trained or conditioned to consider a person’s vocation as a central part of their lives or spiritual formation. It is not a venue most churches value or equip their members for. But work is where most adults (young and old) spend most of their time and what occupies most of their identity. Without the ability to connect faith to either family or work, there is little remaining to engage young adults other than entertaining gatherings or a celebrity in the pulpit. http://www.outofur.com/archives/2012/01/back_to_a_theol.html

Please. I am pleading. I am urging. I am begging all my Lutheran brothers and sisters—rejoice in our theology! Let’s study it. Let’s talk about it. Let’s share it. Let’s allow it to guide our understanding of what it means to be The Holy Christian Church.

As always, I invite your collegial and constructive comments as we seek to dialogue about what it means to be a 21^st century Lutheran who “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

To be sure, we are created by God to be emotional beings. However, do our emotions constitute the core of our faith? Said another way, what is faith?

The writer to the Hebrews says it this way: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Hebrews also notes that Jesus is “the author and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2).

Those who encountered Jesus recognized this—the father of a demon possessed boy cries out, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24); and “The apostles said to the Lord, ‘Increase our faith!’” (Luke 17:5). But perhaps Jesus summed it up best in the assigned Gospel reading from this past Sunday: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15).

Thus, putting it simply, belief in Christ is a matter of faith. The Gospel is proclaimed, the Holy Spirit creates faith, and the gospel (Good News) is believed. But does this mean feelings are not involved?

Without question, feelings come into play as faith is lived out. And I do recognize the verses of scripture that juxtapose faith and feelings, i.e. “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13). But I think it’s important to note that faith itself is not a matter of pure feelings. In other words, you are not to feel faith; you are to believe it! I know, this may raise an eyebrow or two, and I am open for discussion about it, but first consider the following.

I think there is a great amount of confusion today that makes faith all about feelings rather than about believing and trusting God’s Word in Christ. Further, I have yet to find a verse of Scripture that says you need to “feel” faith. The Bible talks about “believing” faith. I am not discounting the role of feelings and emotions in our Christian life. Rather I simply desire to properly order them so that the object of our faith, Jesus Christ, does not get lost in the volatility of our sinful emotions.

Again, consider the following. What happens when you do not feel God’s judgment? What happens when you do not feel that what you did was a sin? Does this mean that if you do not feel it, then it is not a sin? Or what happens when you don’t feel Jesus loves you?  “How could he love me? I am such a failure?” What happens when you don’t feel Jesus’ forgiveness? “He couldn’t forgive me. What I did was too terrible!” Thus, if you cannot feel it, does that mean that God does not really love you? Does that mean He does not forgive you? Can you see the perils of making faith simply a matter of our feelings?

Again, please do not misunderstand. I readily acknowledge that God’s Word does speak to our emotions. However, I hold its not dependent on them for it’s efficacy. Rather God’s Word powerfully expresses His feelings for us and to us. Thus, faith is wrought in us not from our emotion, but from God’s emotion (love) given to us through His Word.

For God’s Word is full of His promises. God’s Word forgives sins. God’s Word raises dead bodies. And faith believes these promises. It believes what God’s Word says. Not at the expense of our emotions, but despite them. Hence Luther’s Third Article explanation, “I cannot by my own reason or strength (perhaps emotion?) believe in Jesus Christ my Lord, or come to Him, but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel…”

Yet, with that said, who of us does not desperately long for some hope, some comfort, or some love when tragedies strike, when loved ones die, or when we are caught in a sin? Likewise, guilt is an emotion. Shame is an emotion. The law (God’s Word) can certainly evoke these. And the Gospel (God’s Word) certainly remedies them; wherein there is great joy, hope, and consolation (also emotions).

Nonetheless, our emotions are not the core of our faith. Our emotions regarding our faith are the result of believing God’s Word. Faith (experiencing God) does not and cannot come from our own emotion. It comes from God’s Word alone where it evokes various emotions according to its law/Gospel purpose—trust (also an emotion) included.

Thus, in the end, faith is always believed—when we confess our sins, when we lose our jobs, when depression sets in, when marriages fail, when the diagnosis is given, when loved ones die—faith is believed. Feelings come and go, but faith is believed!

As always, I invite your collegial and constructive comments as we seek to dialogue about what it means to be a 21^st century Lutheran who “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

[N]ew research released this week from Barna reveals that most churchgoers rarely experience God in worship services. While most people surveyed can recall a “real and personal connection” with God while at church (66%), they also reported that these connections are “rare.” Among those who attend church every week, less than half (44%) say they experience God’s presence. And one-third of those who have attended church report never feeling God’s presence in a worship gathering.

If worship is reduced to how you or I “feel” about God, or how we “feel” connected to God, there should be no surprise by the meager reports. Feelings are like the wind. They can come and go, swirl and gust. They change directions based on the day we’re having, how much sleep we got, how the kids are behaving, how the job is going, and how the marriage is doing.

Feelings are subjective. But God is objective. His Word speaks to feelings and through feelings and it imparts faith. And the thing about faith is that it is not “felt,” but it is “believed.” Yes, of course, emotions flow from our faith. And yes, of course, the Scriptures declare that God is love. But faith is “believed.”

Emotions are prone to fail us and fool us. Yet faith is believed, even when our emotions might tell us otherwise. Jesus begins his ministry with a call to “repent and believe the Good News” (Mark 1:14-15). Sure, “good news” can have a way of enlivening us and making us “feel” better. But this Good News is not felt, it is, above all, believed!

The fact is, contrary to what some may claim, we will not “experience” God through our emotions. Can you imagine how easy it would be to mislead someone depending on how you or I might be feeling? This is why, as Lutherans, “we should and must constantly maintain that God will not deal with us except through his external Word and sacrament” (Luther, Smalcald Articles VIII, Confession, §10).

Lutheran worship (liturgy) intentionally reflects this. In fact, it rejoices in the reality that regardless if one is a distracted mother tending to her children, a day dreaming teenager, a burdened husband, or a hard of hearing 89 year-old, God still connects to them regardless of how they are feeling! He connects to them through His Word going into their ear holes. He connects to them through His Word that opens their lips in prayer and praise. He connects to them with the body and blood of Christ on their lips and in their mouths. Forgiveness is given. Love is declared. Salvation is granted. God is present!

However, if the measure of our experience of God is based on how we feel about Him, and if the effectiveness of worship is also measured on how we feel about God during worship (or how much we feel transformed by Him in worship) we may find ourselves in a very scary place—alone with our emotions and alone with our sins. You and I both know how fickle our emotions can be. You and I both know that the wages of sin is death.

Nonetheless, somehow “feelings” have become the determining factor for the effectiveness of the worship of and the experience of God. As a result, countless varying worship styles have been developed and emerged in an attempt to better situate the “feelings” of people so that they can have a “God connection”—whatever that means. Yet, for all of that effort, what’s been discovered? Sky Jethani sums it up and even offers an intriguing remedy:

Despite all of the rhetoric since the 90s about “emerging generations” and new models of church, there is little evidence it has been implemented broadly or effective…Might it be time to consider what Paul said about ministry in 1 Corinthians 3? Some plant the seeds, others water it, but ultimately it is God who causes the growth. I don’t believe we should ignore outcomes or allow lazy, ineffectual discipleship to take root in our churches. But we must also admit that life transformation is more mysterious, more God-driven, than making widgets in a factory.

Thus, I think it’s worth repeating: “We should and must constantly maintain that God will not deal with us except through his external Word and sacrament.” When He gives His Word and His sacraments, we can’t not “experience” Him. Sure, He’s mysterious that way. But He is mysteriously and sacramentally (sacramentum in the Latin) powerful! It’s what Lutherans have confessed and practiced for centuries. Perhaps it’s a good idea for us to continue doing so.

As always, this blog endeavors to thoughtfully and collegially talk about the mission of the Holy Christian Church and what it means to be authentically Lutheran, while “discipling all nations” in the 21st century. For those willing to enter the fray, I welcome your constructive thoughts and reactions.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

What does your life look like right now? What if your greatness is nothing more than the mundane rituals of life? What if the only extraordinary that you experience is nothing more than the everyday routine of life? Would that mean you’re less important? Would it mean you’ve wasted your life?

What if life dealt you a burdening and debilitating blow? What do you do then? Where would the value and purpose of life be found? Would life simply pass you by? Would it be a waste? What must we do in this life so that it’s not seen as an unwasted life?

My mother has struggled with these questions a good part of her life. (She has given me permission to write about this.) This year she turns 61. She grew up a rural Minnesota farm girl. She and her family attended a rural “little white church” on a hill.

Like many kids, she wanted to feel important. But she also wanted to serve the Lord. She grew up seeing that pastors were important. She grew up hearing that missionaries were important. Farms girls were ordinary. Farm girls gathered eggs. Farm girls helped in the garden. How important was that?

She also grew up understanding missions to be an important part of the church. She realized that (in our tradition) it was not the role of women to become pastors. For a time she was angry that God made her a girl. “Why did I have to be a girl?” She worked through it. Then she developed a deep desire to be a missionary. She wanted to travel the world. She wanted to tell others about Jesus. She wanted to work in Africa.

She got married at 18. It was during Vietnam. My dad enlisted in the Navy rather than be drafted. They had to move to the east coast. He got shipped out to Guam. She had to stay in Connecticut. It wasn’t the life she had imagined. He got to travel. She had to stay. Morning came. Her tasks were the same. How could she make a difference living in a little apartment in Connecticut? The sun went down. Darkness came. Sometimes she felt like more than the sky was going dark.

Married life continued on. She finished her teaching degree. Morning would come and morning would go. Then she got pregnant! It was something new. Heidi was born. My dad’s enlistment ended. They moved back to the Midwest. But then they moved to, of all places, a farm. Not exactly her dream-come-true. Going back to where she came from was less than flattering.

They moved on to South Dakota. My dad began milking cows. Soon I was born. Then 18 months later, my brother Matt was born. A new ordinary had to be established. Three young children can do that. There, too, morning would come. The daily tasks would be repeated.  Feed the kids. Wash the clothes. Clean the messes. Cook the supper. And the sun would go down. Darkness would return. Did her life make a difference? Yes, but it wasn’t exactly the life she dreamed of.

She adjusted. She cherished her kids. She taught us about Jesus. She was dedicated to her husband—though they were known to butt heads. Most couples do. But forgiveness was shared just as it was when they took us to church.

Then Heidi got sick. She got very sick. Cancer destroyed her six-year-old body. It crushed my mother. To be sure, she trusted in Jesus and the resurrection. But like any mother, she asked, “Why!”

My dad continued to provide for the family. The busyness of the farm and a trust in the Lord helped him deal with the loss. But my mom had a giant hole in her daily routine. Her ordinary was no longer ordinary. She had finally come to terms with the mundane nature of her role as a mother, and now it was ripped from her. The darkness would grow deeper. A shadow of depression would set in. She coped. But it would plague her later in life.

A few years later my dad was financially forced to leave farming. We moved back to Minnesota. My mom was pregnant with my brother Josh. He was born. There were three children in our family again. The sun came up. Things seemed a little brighter. My dad found part time jobs.

But we had to move to a different house. The sun went down. Times were tough. When you’re little you don’t know the difference. But my mom did. For my dad there was always a bright side to everything. But it weighed on my mom. Her dreams were bigger. She wanted something different. A shadow seemed to linger over her.

My parents struggled through. My dad found full time work. We grew older. My mom started to teach. But the daily routine was predictable. It was nothing special. Then my mom developed severe back pain. She was 39. She had a spinal fusion when she was 15 and it had let loose. The next five years she would endure five major back operations and three back fusions that would eventually leave her on disability and in unending chronic pain.

She had so many hopes and so many dreams. She wanted to be a provider in so many ways but felt like she was being reduced to a dependant. She coped, but continued to question her worth. Shadows of depression would continue to grow.

I went on to college. So did my brother Matt. My parents had to sell our house and buy a smaller one to help pay for our tuition. The routine was the same. The sun came up. Pain pills in the morning. Cope through the day. More pain pills. Make it through supper. The sun went down. Things seemed dark for her. What was her purpose? What was she to do? What could she do?

Years later they saved enough to buy an acreage. The sun came up. It was a bright spot for a time. They’d always dreamed of an acreage. By then I was married. So was my brother Matt. We both had our first child. However, her pain had increased. More surgery was needed, but no longer an option. It would only make things worse. The sun went down. The depression needed to be treated. She tried to manage. But things grew darker. They grew harder. Pain pills. Sleep. Pain pills. Sleep. Some days she couldn’t get out of bed. What was her purpose? What was she to do? She prayed often. She hurt more. Darkness stayed.

Four years later it nearly consumed all of us. My brother Matt and his unborn son were killed in a car accident. We all shared in that darkness. It’s utterly suffocating. The light of Jesus Christ brought us through. But again, my mother was asking, “Why!?”

Today my mother continues to struggle. The sun goes up and the sun goes down. Some days are good. Many are not. She still wonders, “What’s my purpose?” “Why am I here?” “Am I wasting my life?”

The sun goes up. And the sun goes down. She remains a wife, a mother, and a grandmother. Her faith is strong. But she hurts. She struggles. She desperately desires to be loved, but she has so conditioned her lovability and her worth on what she has failed to do, and on what she can’t do, that it’s easy for her to get lost in the darkness of despair. Christ is certainly her light. And she sees that He is a light no darkness can overcome. But sometimes she wonders if her life has been wasted.

To this I can only answer with a resounding “No!” Two of her children are rejoicing with Jesus in paradise because of the faith she taught them. Her other two still look forward to that day. Her grandchildren cherish her. Her husband loves her and cares for her. He also needs her love and needs her care. Such simple relationships have been profoundly ordered by God. They have tremendous purpose. They have immeasurable value!

Her countless hours of diaper changing, cooking, cleaning, and clothes folding were not in vain. They cared for her family. Such ordinary care was extraordinarily ordered by the Lord. They have tremendous purpose. They have immeasurable value. Life has not been wasted. Life has been lived! And the remainder of her life will not be wasted, it will be lived! There is still life. There is still meaning. And she is still loved!

Yes, there will be suffering. Yes, she will have pain. But so it was for her Savior. On Good Friday darkness covered the land with His suffering and death. But three days later Easter Sunday saw the tomb burst open with He who is the light of life.

In Jesus Christ no life is ever wasted! In Jesus, no life is ever without purpose.

This, too, is the message and the mission of the Holy Christian Church.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

Consider what John Piper, a well-known Baptist preacher and author from my neck of the woods (Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis, MN), recently had to say about this at one of his popular conferences. The snippets of his message (below) have been neatly packed into a short motivational video on YouTube as well as at: http://www.vergenetwork.org/2012/01/06/john-piper-go-video/:

The unwasted life is the life that puts Christ on display as supremely valuable…

A God centered theology has to be a missionary theology…  There are only three kinds of Christians when it comes to missions: Zealous goers; Zealous senders; Disobedient…

The need of the nations who do not know the name of Jesus is an immeasurable need. It’s an infinite need. 2.6 billion people live in unreached people groups…

It seems to be woven into the very fabric of our consumer culture that we move toward comfort, toward security, toward ease, toward safety, away from stress, away from trouble, away from danger, and it ought to be exactly the opposite!

They are provocative words. And by my eyes, they’re also a bit inflammatory. But that’s what good motivational speakers do, right? They incite our consciences by portraying their desired point in dramatic fashion. (To get the full effect you do need to watch the video.)

But when the music is silenced, the drama removed, and the sentences examined, what remains? I have my thoughts. I’ll summarize them with two words: Irresponsible theology. I’m not saying he’s all wrong. But they do portray the purpose of the church and the Christian life in a limited, and from my perspective, irresponsible way.

But this is the debate of our time isn’t it? What is the purpose of the church? What’s the purpose of our Christian lives?

Time and again people are told they “don’t get it.” Time and again people in the pews are told they are a bunch of self-centered, self serving people who only think of themselves. And so what are they to do? If the purpose of the church is to be missional, they’re told to get off their butts, stop thinking about themselves, stop wasting their lives, and tell someone about the good news of Jesus.

If we use Piper’s theology, they’re “wasting” their lives when they struggle with their sin and “fail to put Christ on display as supremely valuable.” To use Piper’s theology, they add to their sins when they’re “disobedient” and care more about the challenges of their own daily life than about “zealously” giving witness to Christ. To use Piper’s theology, they don’t believe rightly if they think about God without a “missionary theology.”

I realize I’m not giving Piper a full and fair shake by this. (However, a fuller examination of his theology would show I’m not that far off). But here’s my point. I believe that those who feel they have finally discovered the real mission of the church and are now self-declared “zealous” missionaries (while others of us are not), irresponsibly portray the theology and mission of the church when they reduce it to a demand to be missional.

Our theology is much broader and much deeper than that. And, if we are being honest, (at least from a Lutheran perspective), our theology does not begin with missionaries. It begins with Christ. And He did not first send; He first forgave.

Please do not misunderstand. I am for missions! I am for reaching the lost! (This past month I spent over 30 hours with just one unchurched couple—providing groceries, transportation, and shelter, in addition to teaching, praying, and blessing in the name of Christ.) But I am first for understanding the Gospel rightly so that I can not only reach the lost, but so that I can also reach “the found.”

Believers have an “immeasurable need” for the Gospel just the same as those who have not yet received it. Sinners don’t stop being sinners. And when theologies are developed that start with “sending missionaries” rather than with the sent Son of God who came to bring the forgiveness of sins, there is a stark reconstitution of the church’s theology and purpose.

Yes, sinners who are self-centered, self serving people need to repent. But they also then need the Gospel! Not a demand to be missional. Not a guilt trip that says they are wasting their lives. For it is the Gospel itself that will bring them to share it’s joys with others. Not guilt ridden demands.

We can do better than that. Lutherans in particular have to do better than that. Our theology demands it. We cannot let our theology go to waste. We need to be honest and responsible with our theology. We have to stop settling for the latest version of someone else’s theology and start being honest about our own.

As always, I invite your collegial and constructive comments as we seek to dialogue about what it means to be a 21^st century Lutheran who “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

What does it mean to be a Christian? What does it mean to be the church? Right now these are the questions being debated in the North American church. I’m fascinated by the multitude of answers.

Many say the church is at a crossroads. (When isn’t it?) Many claim it’s ceased to be what it was meant to be. However, what it has stopped being, and what it has become, depends on who is talking. The emergent church movement says we need “A new kind of Christianity” (Brian McLaren, 2009). The missional movement says “we have a master who demands radical obedience” (David Platt, 2010). Both say we must have a “Transformational Church” (Thom Rainer and Ed Stetzer, 2010). Obedience is crucial.

Missional guru Francis Chan is also adamant: “We can’t just have thousands of people in a room and we’re not showing that intense love where people walk in and say, ‘Wow, there’s something different about your love for one another!’ That’s just not right when we’re not living like a body, like a family… How can we have rooms of people who claim to have the Holy Spirit of God Almighty inside their bodies? God Almighty inside of you? And your life looks just like everyone else? No wonder they’re shutting down the churches.” http://www.vergenetwork.org/2011/12/28/francis-chan-what-is-wrong-with-the-american-church-video/

Each offers a critique. Each provides a perspective on what Christians have to do to make the church (and themselves) right. At times they do have some thoughtful things to consider. However, I think they’re missing the mark.

With each of them there is a constant return to the demands of what Christians must do, what the church must do, if we are to take the Gospel seriously. But the problem, at least for me, is that all of these demands for a “new kind of Christian,” a “radical obedience,” and a “transformational church,” place impossible and unrealistic demands on fallen and wretched sinners.

No, I’m not looking for an excuse to ignore the lost. No, I’m not looking for an excuse to hang onto my sinfulness. Rather, my point is that the focus of all these demands is on us and not on Christ. Yes, I believe in sanctified living. Yes, I believe in witnessing to the lost. But I think there is a failure by some to be realistic about our sinful condition. And therefore, ironically, there is the failure to understand the fullness and role of the Gospel.

Tullian Tchividjian sums it up well in his book Jesus + Nothing = Everything. (The book title alone is a profound formula for the church to consider.) He writes: “Since the heart of the human problem is the problem of the human heart, rules and regulations are never the solution. Jesus is. Behavior modification cannot change the human heart. You and I need this reminder all the time. And that’s why we turn to the gospel.” (p.119).

So indulge me for a moment. Has there ever been, in all of history, a congregation where all of its members simply swooned over one another “showing that intense love?” How about the first century Christians at Corinth? Nope. They were full of divisions (1 Cor. 11:18) How about the Galatians? Ah-uh. They were too busy biting and devouring one another (Galatians 5:15). The Philippians? Close. But they had to watch out for the “evil doers” among them who “mutilate the flesh” (Phil. 3:2). How about Philemon? Sorry. He was at odds with Onesimus. Can’t we find even one person full of intense love for everyone? Yes. His name is Jesus.

So how about we let Him be the Lord of the church? How about we let Him fulfill every demand? How about we let Jesus be the leader of doing all things impossible? After all, He obeyed the law perfectly. He resisted all temptation. He died as a sacrifice for the whole world. He even rose from the dead! So why not let Him be the solution to all our woes?

Demands for transformation, imperatives for radical obedience, requiring one become a new kind of Christian; they’re all rooted in the law. But the law offers no peace. It provides no solace. It transforms nothing. It simply tethers us to a relentless oppression of impossible demands. The solution to the church’s (and the world’s) woes is nothing new. It can be found in Jesus and only Jesus.

Bo Giertz, in his must read classic novel, The Hammer of God, writes it beautifully:

“The conscience, our own anxiety, and all slaves of the law bid us go the way of obedience to the very end in order to find peace with God. But the way of obedience has no end. It lies endlessly before you, bringing continually severer demands and constantly growing indebtedness. If you seek peace on that road, you will not find peace, but the debt of ten thousands talents instead. But now Christ is the end of the law; the road ends at His feet, and here His righteousness is offered to everyone who believes. It is to that place, to Jesus only, that God has wanted to drive you with all your unrest and anguish of soul.” (p.204).

When Jesus, and only Jesus, is put at the center, the mission of the church becomes clear.

As always, this blog endeavors to thoughtfully and collegially talk about the mission of the Holy Christian Church and what it means to be authentically Lutheran, while “discipling all nations” in the 21st century. For those willing to enter the fray, I welcome your constructive thoughts and reactions.

Yours,

Rev. Woodford

In his January 2, 2012 (today) post titled “Why the Corporate Church Won’t Work,” missional guru Mike Breen is adamant about the negative impact of running the church like corporate America:

“You see, I am absolutely convinced that 100 years from now, many books will be written on the phenomenon that is the late 20th Century/early 21st Century American church. And I am fairly certain that it will be with large degree of amazement/laughter that people, in reading about it, will say to each other: “You must be joking! Seriously???! People actually thought it was a good idea to structure the Church as if it were a business? Honestly?!”

Perhaps we don’t have the perspective necessary to see how funny or strange this really is, but I promise you, if you run your church like a business, it’ll never be a family and families are what have changed the world. Bill Hybels was right about the local church (as the Body of Jesus) being the hope of the world…just not as we are currently seeing it.

Efficiency has replaced effectiveness. Many churches are organizationally efficient, but we aren’t affecting the lives of people the way in which Jesus imagined a family would do.

We’ve created a corporate America-like church, somehow buying into a false dichotomy between a Leadership Culture which produces leaders and a Discipleship Culture that produces disciples. Here’s what I mean: In American businesses, it’s about moving people from A to B, but has nothing to do with making people. We have one guy with the vision and a culture of volunteerism to help that one guy get his vision accomplished. It’s the genius with a 1000 helpers. So while churches may claim to have “leadership development programs,” what they really have are “volunteer pipelines” that are run by managers, not leaders.

In doing so, we run the campus, but don’t expand the Kingdom. We’re keeping the machine of the church running (which, much to some people’s chagrine, I think is needed if done in a lightweight/low maintenance kind of way), but doing practically nothing to expand the Kingdom.”http://www.vergenetwork.org/2012/01/02/why-corporate-church-wont-work-mike-breen/

So how should the church be organized? The oldest protestant tradition has long maintained a distinct simplicity. Reformation Lutherans state it clearly in their 16^th century confessions: “It is also taught among us that one holy Christian church will be and remain forever. This is the assembly of all believers among whom the Gospel is preached in its purity and the holy sacraments are administered according to the Gospel.”  (Augsburg Confession VII, § 1-2).

In other words, it’s not about leadership or congregational governance. It’s about Word and Sacrament. And come what may, where these are, the church will not be thwarted. It will “remain forever!”

Nonetheless, much is being made about how the church should make “true” disciples—whatever that means. And though Breen is quick (and right) to point out the faults of the “church growth movement” and it’s by products, he ironically attempts to lift up a new organizational paradigm that will solve the church’s woes. It appears one organizational method is simply being exchanged for another. What is it?

“EXTENDED FAMILY. The Oikos. A group of people, blood-and-non-blood, about the size of an extended family, on mission together, often times networked with other extended families. Why the extended family? * Because it’s small enough to care, but large enough to dare. * Everyone gets to play.* Sociologically, people locate their identity within the extended family size (known as the Social Space). We’re hardwired for it. * To function well, it’s a beautiful combination of both the organic and the organized. * It’s the perfect training ground for future leaders. I believe, with everything in me, that until we embrace this reality, we will continue to struggle to be the fully functioning Body of Jesus.”

I’ll admit, it sounds appealing. It may even have some merit, particularly if it were more grounded in the immediate family. Nonetheless, I believe, with everything in me, that even if we are to embrace this reality, the church will continue “to struggle to be the fully functioning Body of Jesus.” Why? Because families are full of sinners—because the church is filled with a bunch of miserable sinners who are in desperate need of Christ and His Word of promise!

Dietrich Bonhoeffer has some poignant words for us to consider on what he calls communities that spring up from a wish dream:

“Innumerable times a whole Christian community has broken down because it has sprung from a wish dream…He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the later, even though his personal intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and sacrificial. God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by God, by others, and by himself. He enters the community of Christians with his demands, sets up his own law, and judges the brethren and God himself accordingly. He stands adamant, a living reproach to all others in the circle of brethren. He acts as if he is the creator of the Christian community, as if his dreams bind men together. When things do not go his way, he calls the effort a failure. When his ideal picture is destroyed, he sees the community going to smash. So he becomes, first an accuser of his brethren, then an accuser of God, and finally the despairing accuser of himself.” (Life Together, 27-28.)

This is why the church must be organized around “the Gospel” that is “preached in its purity” and “the holy sacraments” that are “administered according to the Gospel.” It’s not an organizational theory that saves people or makes the church to be the “true” church. It’s Christ and His Word. Yes, leadership and organization have their place. But they do not constitute the church. The Lutheran confessions are clear on this. “God be praised, a seven-year-old child knows what the Church is: holy believers and ‘little sheep’ who hear the voice of their Shepherd.” (Smalcald Articles Part III, Article XII, The Church, § 2).

Thus, “true” disciples are made by Christ and His Word. They won’t all look the same or act the same, but they will all be sinners. And they will all continue to need the Gospel. When we buy into the thinking that there is some sort of magical formula (other than the Gospel) that will make the church into our “dream church” we’ll be sorely disappointed, and sorely mistaken.

As always, I invite your collegial and constructive comments as we seek to dialogue about what it means to be a 21^st century Lutheran who “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

Yours,

Rev. Woodford