What the American Church Needs to Know, Part 2

The second thing my missionary mentors proposed as an answer to my question regarding the American Church was this: "Make sure that whatever you determine to be a biblical absolute is actually an absolute, and not merely culture."

Of course, I had to ask for further explanation, and as they talked, it became very apparent that this issues was one which has brought much pain and confusion to those who promote the Name of Christ is foreign cultures. They explained that too many American Christians have come to believe that "cultural" styles and preferences are actually biblical absolutes to be recognized and held in all cultures, at all times. For example, the drinking of wine is, in some American circles, believed to be the equivelent of illegal drug use, or even the use of pornography. Simply put, wine has no righteous use in the life of the believer. Many American fundamentalist believers would read that sentence and respond "of course." Yet, it is clear in the Bible that wine can be used righteously; it is drunkenness that is forbidden. And while American believers and church leaders have every right to shape their practice according to what they believe is the wisest principle - total abstinence - given the misuse of alchohol in America, it is clear that such a practice is neither demanded, nor exemplified in the Scriptures. Thus, what may be wise in one setting is not absolute in another. To make the wisdom of one culture the biblical absolute of all others is not only culturally arrogant, but also biblically wrong.

In France, where my wife and I just enjoyed several wonderful days among the hillsides and valleys of Provence, the drinking of wine is only considered wrong among the increasing number of North African Muslims who have flooded into the country. In an interesting irony, we found that the evangelical believers drank wine, while the Muslims did not. Case in point: We attended a Saturday evening outreach event sponsored by an evangelical French church. They spent the day making pizzas, baked them in an old wood-burning pizza oven, and then opened their doors to a large group of unbelievers - several from North Africa - who came along with the Christians who had invited them. My wife and I marvelled at the way the evening went, as believers and their unbelieving friends sat for long hours around tables discussing some pre-determined questions dealing with the true issues of life. It was an amazing thing to watch. But what matters in the discussion here is that when they put up the food tables, and began bringing out the pizza and beverages, the wine was put alongside the Coke, and as people filed through, they took the beverage of their choice. In an evangelical French church committed to the inspiration of the Word, and the Lordship of Christ wine and Coke were considered culturally equal. That picture will be forever imprinted on my brain: Coke and Merlot . . . side by side . . . and no none cried "heresy!"

I am sure this is only one (and probably one of the most inconsequential, really) of a number of significant beliefs that one culture holds as absolute, but which are not absolute in Scripture. It appears that the task of the foreign missionary is made all the more difficult when the cultural preferences of their supporting churches back in America are turned into biblical "oughts" and then placed as handcuffs around the wrists of those ministering in a foreign culture.

As I sat with these men, I realized right away that they were not complainers. They weren't whining, they weren't "dumping" on me as the convenient representative of all things American. They were truly trying to answer my question. Were they bearing the scars of "friendly fire" steming from the shots they had taken from well-intentioned, but biblically ignorant American pastors? Yes, but they were overwhelmingly winsome. It was apparent that they had bigger priorities than fighting back against what were clearly discouraging directives from home. They were there, not to find an easy place to gain ministerial fame; they were there to bring the Word of God to bear on the lives of real people living in a culture almost entirely devoid of Gospel witness.

I had to admit that, during the discussion, those men moved from peers to heroes. And I guess that is something else the American church needs to know.

What the American Church Needs to Know, part 1

Last month I travelled to Madrid, to speak at a conference designed for missionary families from America living in and around Spain. I remember trying to keep my expectations low as I hurried to put together messages for an audience about whom I knew almost nothing. It continually rolled through my head that, while I was the guest speaker, they were the experts. What I knew about living in a foreign country, mastering a foreign language, and raising children in a foreign culture was equivelent to my knowledge of microbiology. So, while I labored to deliver something useful and encouraging to them, it became increasingly apparent that I would come home with much more than I gave away.

During lunch one day I sat with missionary team leaders from several different cities. As the dishes were cleared away, I took opportunity to benefit from one of Europe's best customs - the long, long meal. No one was in a hurry to leave. Coffee was poured, cookies provided, and a fruitful 4 hour discussion began. It all started with what I thought was a very simple question. In fact, I hadn't thought of asking it before then. All I wanted to do was start something, and I just used the first generic thing that popped into my head: "What 3 things do you think the churches in America need to know about missionary work?"

The answers that these men gave during those hours were more useful, more insightful, and have come to be more remembered, than some of my seminary classes. Here's #1:

#1: We wish churches in America would do "church" the way we do missions.

Here's what they meant: As missionaries, their focus is actually fairly simply. They plan their days, invest their energy, and focus their lives on this simple strategy. Make contact with unbelievers in the course of your everyday lives; invest time in turning contacts into friends; labor throught the Word and prayer to see God transform friends into believers; teach and mold believers into disciples, who then start the cycle all over again, making contact with unbelievers in their world.

I found myself at first thinking "that's nothing new." But then I was hit by the troubling reality that this simple strategy no longer defines most churches in America. We have to admit it: we're more into maintenance than mission. We've redefined success in terms of bodies, bucks, and buildings. And in our rush to gain notoriety and acclaim and acceptance in this hectic, market-driven world, we've forgotten that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.

So, what do we do? I believe we need to ask ourselves some very serious questions. Start with this one: Is your city any better because your church is there? Are your neighbors any better because they live next to someone in whom the Spirit of God dwells?

If one of my new missionary friends moved into my neighborhood, here's what he would do. First, he'd figure out a way to meet his neighbors. Then he would consciously find ways to connect with them. Maybe it would be helping with a yard project, or talking sports, or shooting baskets with the kids. And he would invest in them as people, as those whose lives he was genuinely interested in. He wouldn't see them only as potential notches on the gun, but as real people, with real needs, made in the image of God, who needed the forgiveness that is found only in Jesus. And he would understand that relationships take time, a lot of time, and he would refuse to take shortcuts. Then, over time, he would live out the Gospel with his new friends, without being ashamed, but also without arrogance or ultimatum. He would try to include his new friends in the family of God, knowing that his brothers and sisters in Christ were neither ashamed of the Gospel, nor afraid of the unbelieving world. He would pray and pray that the Word and the Spirit would do what he couldn't do; transform a friend into a brother in Christ. And, if in the providence of God, that happened, he would embrace his new family member and lovingly walk alongside him as he experienced the joys of discovering the truths of God's Word. And then he'd help his brother see the joy of starting the cycle all over again.

So, here's the point. My neighborhood doesn't need a missionary to move in. And, neither does yours, if you love Jesus. God has already moved us in. The first thing churches in America need to know, they actually already know. They just need to re-know it, and come to understand that living a missional life isn't a risk, its a privilege.

Travels and Home

I'm back home. After two weeks of luggage and room keys, of boarding passes and boarding calls, of passports and airports, I am sitting at my own breakfast table enjoying the calm of a rare and gentle California rain. Just three weeks ago I was excitedly looking forward to two weeks abroad, enjoying the cote d' azure, the villages of Provence, and Spain's paella. Back then, nothing else mattered. It was as though the trip provided a barrier that kept at bay any cares connected with those oughts and obligations I consciously pushed aside, flinging them forward into the weeks following our return. Three weeks ago, this day - today - with its load of cares, was hidden magnificently behind the anticipated thrills of new places, new foods, and new friends. But now, today is here. And tomorrow is on its way, with a busy weekend right behind to usher in an even more hectic week, and month, and season.

As the rain continues to fall, bringing a certain surreal calm, inside I am intensely aware that the responsibilities and opportunities that fall to me as a husband, father, pastor, professor, friend, neighbor, and citizen can never really be put aside, or put away. And yet, even as part of me stuggles to move from exhaustion to production, who I really am - a man magnificently blessed by God - rejoices in knowing that my life matters, that both my tasks and my challenges are actually opportunities to touch real people, and make a difference in their lives.

The travels were wonderful, filled with both the delights of the expected and the joy of surprise. But home is where I belong, where I fit. Home is where I live out the life for which God, in His loving providence, has crafted me. Home is more than a place, more than a table, more than a backyard being washed by the rain. Home is that sense of surrounding where familiarity combines with acceptance, supplying both the fuel and the freedom necessary to meet today, greet tomorrow, and accomplish all that my Father has given me to do.