Who Can Accept It?
On hearing it, many of his disciples said, ‘This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?’” John 6:30
Twenty-one months ago I was a youth pastor at a church, and then the elders voted to close the doors. The rent was too high, the tithes too low, and we couldn’t see an alternative. Attendance had been declining for several years and there was no easy way out. My idea was to keep the church together. To this day, aside from me and my wife, two remain from that church. The seeds of Adams Avenue.
At that point I had never heard of Michael Frost, Alan Hirsch or the missional church. I was unacquainted with Shane Claiborne, and I was only starting to think about the church as relates to ethnicity and poverty. I lived in a world where church was about Sunday mornings, preaching, singing and saving souls. While I was aware that the Church at large was struggling, from inside I was having a hard time quite understanding why. Nor did I very well notice how in the gospels, it was the religious leaders who were the foil, while Jesus favored the outcast and those far from religion.
Fortunately, I was kicked out of the building. I turned in my key at the end of February, 2008.
Last week I sat in the backseat of a van driving up to Biola to listen to Claiborne. All four of my comrades, males in their 30s, were also exiled from the church. But unlike me they made the difficult, voluntary decision. They left their church for the very ironic reason that they want to follow Jesus. For three hours I listened to their stories. One of their friends, who had gone to still another church, sent out an e-mail that explained why he left that one:
The decision was not based so much on our dissatisfaction with _____ Church (although there certainly was some of that) but more on a general, growing disillusionment with a model of church that we now believe is counterproductive and detrimental to discipleship and mission in the world — specifically to the least of these in the world. … I know that many of you share similar convictions and concerns and that a few of you have also left the institutional church for something different.
The point of this post is that the church rampantly fails to preach and accept the hard teachings of Jesus as described in John and elsewhere – teachings of compassion, justice and love for the marginalized. Instead, while hiding behind a contemporary set of creeds for favor with God, it too often plays the role of the pharisee or disciple who can not see what the outsider sees. There are most certainly exceptions, but a groundswell of exiles cries in unison of reform. We want Jesus to be reflected overwhelmingly and without ambiguity in our actions. Be the church of love.
The longer I’m away from the church, this chorus intensifies, a chorus crying for the church to be the body of the compassionate, justice-seeking, counter-culture Jesus. Titles like, They Like Jesus but Not the Church. Lord, Save us From Your Followers. UnChristian. Jesus Wants to Save Christians. From where I sit, the chorus is reaching feverish pitch. And yet two curious things remain: 1) My church-pastor friends today look at me from across the Starbucks table like I’m the only person talking about this, like I am a heretic indeed. 2) I had never heard so much as a whisper of this chorus 21 months ago. Perhaps people wouldn’t tell me because I worked for a church. Perhaps the minority (15 percent) who go to church on any given Sunday are oblivious to the call of the masses. Perhaps I never heard the chorus because I spent the bulk of my time at church, with church people. Perhaps in 21 months a critical mass has formed.
But I am reminded that the figurative path to salvation has always been narrow, evidenced in the writing of the biblical prophets and the difficult teachings of Jesus.
And then I look into the pages of recent history and see similar discontent.
Instead of being the powerhouse supplying the kingdom of God among men with power and light, the church may exist for its own sake. It then may become an expensive consumer of social wealth, a conservative clog, and a real hindrance of social progress.” Walter Rauschenbusch, 1861-1918
The contemporary church is often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the arch-supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are. But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If the church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I am meeting with young people every day whose disappointment with the church has risen to outright disgust.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 1963
Forty-six years after King’s writing from the Birmingham jail, I find the same disgust, but only because my path, like King’s, has veered away from the friendly confines of the church building. Along the streets of the city it is easy to find people who have been directly hurt by the church. And more often there is something even more disappointing. Everyday people with a cursory understanding of Jesus Christ find the church lacking. Anyone with a basic sense of Jesus’ life, stacked up against the church as seen from the outside … the difference is staggering, baffling, sadly amusing. Jesus – who had no place to lay his head – was compassionate, humble, concerned for the marginalized, in pursuit of the poor and sick, in disagreement with the self-righteously religious. The church – largely identified with its mega-buildings and campuses – seems indifferent to so much suffering, relatively quiet on the plight of oppressed people. The church is more like a tail-light than a headlight (borrowing from King) when it comes to social issues. In King’s day the primary issue was of race; in our time the church has lagged on such issues as the environment, the plight of the majority world and persistent issues of poverty in our own country. All the while the church is known for its judgmental disdain a few subcultures.
With this backdrop in mind, the Gospel of John is a particularly poignant display. Watch the characters of John closely. So often you will find characters representing 1) religious leaders, 2) Jesus’ disciples or followers, 3) hurting or marginalized people(s), and/or 4) people who are far from the “favored” religion. See who Jesus favors.
Prompting Reflection or Conversation
- Is the author (T.C.) off base? Why or why not?
- Have you experienced or heard such frustrations as shared by the men in the van, the author of the e-mail, the authors and movie maker linked in this article, Rauschenbusch or King?
- Is it possible that, as in John 6, today many of Jesus’ disciples do not accept his hard teachings?
- Give an honest assessment of the church today. Have the misgivings of Rauschenbusch and King been overcome? Why or why not?
- Given the problems of the world, how can the church rise to the occasion?
- What is God communicating to you at this time? Is he inviting you to do something or make a change? Explain.
- What does Adams Avenue Crossing have to do with this?
- What is your prayer?
There are between three and four hundred thousand churches in the USA, which makes it difficult to generalize about them. However, what you describe is commonplace. So commonplace that it describes every church (AAC not included) that I have been part of or even visited.
Unfortunately, good intentions give way to the organization/institution becoming an end in itself. Most efforts are expended to maintain the institution. Having been a part of many church governing boards, that is mostly what I saw. At the last institutional church of which we were a part, I was in a meeting of the leadership and said that we had lost between ten and twenty percent of the congregation (I kept the statistics). The head of the board that made the financial decisions said that wasn’t a problem. The people who had left weren’t giving much anyway and total giving had not declined. Everyone except me seemed to think this was quite acceptable.
As long as there is money to pay for the property expenses, salaries and programs, all is well. When I asked how long it had been since a person had come to Jesus through the ministry of that church, no one, including the pastor, knew. They thought about it, then got really, really mad and started screaming.
Are you off base? – No
In the short time that we have been involved with AAC, we have seen people serving and impacting the community. We have seen Jesus showing His love to the neighborhood. We have seen Jesus touching lives. I have seen more of this in a few months than I saw in over fifty years of being deeply involved with an institution that in many places has become impotent, but refuses to admit it is impotent.
This is what I saw at table talk:
We were deciding which book to read next. At one point, bill mentioned communitas. You said luminality. The whole thing had a humorous, lighthearted, almost laughable tone. We then picked the book most similar to the ones you/we have already read. (I don’t believe in democracy. You know better than most of us where we should be going).
First, how fitting for us, relatively comfortable, safe, and secure, to take lightly or laugh at concepts related to uneasiness, marginalization, persecution, and danger. These are important concepts from a book we just finished. I can’t help but wonder if in a few months, after we’ve finished the new book, will we be making similar comments? (I do feel you are struggling, more than financially, with unease and danger. Collectively we are not carrying/sharing that burden.)
Let’s say a book club started meeting next to us during table talk. The club talks about their week and then discusses their current book. Right now, this looks too similar to us. If I wanted to be part of a book club, I could find one that reads books I really like. I think I heard you say something about us spending 150 dollars on this book, like you had some reservations. Maybe it’s good for us. By the time we finish servolution, (the cute title bugs me, makes me think of commercialization. “Oh look, how clever, he combined the words serve and revolution. I’ll take two.”) ten similar books will have been published. We will always be occupied. If I visualize us moving in a direction, we are turning and starting/continuing a (comfortable, secure, safe, isolated) circle. I can see you wanted us to do something different and focus on theology. (damn democracy).
You came back from that trip and outside talked about moving from a cerebral, theoretical focus to being more practical. Servolution is not more practical. After you spoke, you had a yearning expression and were met with a blank, dumb silence. I’m beginning to see how you feel.
The homeless man I know, steve, needs me. I would feel selfish going somewhere I am not sure I want to be when I know steve wants and needs me.
The point of this is I believe in your vision. I believe in an alternative, radical approach to life. (nothing else has worked for me). How alternative breakfast burritos and servolution are, I don’t know. I will follow you. I will follow whatever/whoever you are following. But this does not make sense to me.
[Suggestion: everyone says/writes one positive and one criticism about AAC. We need to shake ourselves of the idea this is it and this isn’t a process but is static and unchanging.]
This is more the direction/cleansing we need.
Setting: table talk. Near future.
It’s a little after nine and everyone is settling in to their spots. Bill is negotiating with the cashier about his half eaten breakfast burrito he spilled onto the floor. The commotion leads to a late start. Twenty minutes later, while Bub is talking about his experience during the homeless walk, I glance over at you. You are breathing shallowly. Your look becomes crazed. Suddenly, you bolt up, knocking over your chair, flip over a table, rip the bagel and ham sandwich, mid bite, from Sam’s astonished face and hurl it against the window. You cry out in a mad roar, “Fuck this! You two, start walking that way, you two, go that way…maybe I’ll see you back here in two hours.”
Hey, hey. Shoooosh. Take a deep breath and calm down. I understand your frustration but no need for foul language. There could be children around here. Now, do you really think you can be this critical and still sit next to all of them? You do like them, right? I can see where there might be a problem, but you overlooked all the good you guys do. What may appear insignificant does make a difference. What may feel ordinary now is in many ways a radical alternative to the dominant idea of what a church is and does; the idea that is embedded in us and we are trying to grow out of. You need a place where all of you can be together and share with one another. How about you check your naiveté, have some patience, and stuff will happen. I think they’ll understand. And maybe listen to sam, it looks like he knows something.
Thank you David for your honesty, I know how challenging it was for you to bring this up and that it is something you’ve been thinking about for a while. You didn’t write it on a whim or in the heat of the moment. You gave it serious thought. Thank you for keeping things real. We did, after all, identify you as a prophet and prophets say the things that we don’t want to hear.
I’d hope that we can be critical of ourselves and still sit next to eachother otherwise we risk becoming stagnant.
Thanks for the post T.C. It was great to chat with you on that ride up to Biloa the other night.
As you know, I have wrestled with this stuff a lot. Recently, though, I have been thinking a lot about how Jesus interacted with the religious. Yes, his harshest criticism were for the Pharisees. He seemed to be so much more concerned with not living a lie than the practices themselves. By that I mean, he didn’t try to change the Pharisees or the organization of the Pharisees.
I wonder if trying to talk about and or try and change “the church” is a bit like boiling the ocean. It seems the Adams Ave. group is doing it more in the way that Jesus himself did. Small. Deliberate. Patient. When I hear stats about world hunger or injustice, yes they prove a point, but I don’t think that’s the right spark for a fire of action. To me, changing one neighborhood at a time is going to ultimately (and probably YEARS from now) change the world.
I guess my point is to be like Jesus I want to focus on those who are around me and focus less on the larger organizations that are neither interested in what I have to say nor open to the change in direction. Maybe the example in the long run will have a greater impact than any sermon/discussion/book/etc.
If this is a little goofy sounding I’m sorry I haven’t slept yet. I think David’s getting to the point about something I was feeling on Sunday when Amy was talking about her struggle with Royal Kids Camp. Is this just going to be a little get together we do every Sunday where we hang out for a couple of hours together, talk about our lives and whatever book we are reading together or do our hour and a half trash walk the other Sunday. Plus my bible study on Tuesday and I’m thinking about going to the other one on Saturday. Well, there’s 5 hours out of my week for Jesus. I think I could do the same thing at Journey. David asked what’s the difference between us and a book club that meets once a week and I honestly couldn’t tell you.
The thing that really sucks is most of the time I’m ok with this. This is what I’m talking about when I’m talking about my selfishness and self centeredness. I’m not beating myself up I’m giving myself an honest appraisal. The world today is filled with so many diversions that chip away at the hours. I’m a hedonist at heart and am always looking for immediate gratification. Sacrificing my time is harder than sacrificing money most of the time.
I know that life isn’t always about chasing good feelings. I definitely don’t think a life of following Christ is about that. I don’t know the answer. I do know that I’m willing to dig deeper, looking for our niche in Normal Heights. I know that I want for us to be more than a group of part time do gooders. I hope that we evolve into a community of Christ followers chasing after what God puts in front of us.
Communitas means us reaching outside of our comfort level. It means things being awkward and not feeling right. It’s about our prophets telling us we’re headed in the wrong direction. I think without some kind of shared communal pain there is no communitas.
In my own personal experience the people that I have shared communitas with have been my fellow addicts in Narcotics Anonymous. Without each other there is no way that we can stay clean. We have a common thorn in our side that we come together with to overcome. Through our often painful recovery and faith that we can do this together we become real brothers and sisters. I know that we all have these relationships with people, whether it be through school, the military, or other church missions. I think if we are missing something with AAC it’s that unifying passion that brings us together to achieve something we couldn’t achieve alone. I think the trash walk is a start in the right direction. What Amy’s doing on Thursday nights is a step in the right direction. It can’t be that we just don’t like the institutional Church. That’s not going to get us very far.
Again, I don’t know the answers. I think we all should be table turning, bagel throwing zealots on fire to usher in the Kindom of God in Normal Heights. Thanks David for writing your comments. Hopefully it opens up a new dialogue at AAC. Peace, bub
In fairness and accuracy, the difference between us and a book club (or a church that isn’t having these types of conversations) is obviously quite vast. We are moving in a direction, even if it seems too slowly. We are yearning and striving. And a baby doesn’t just get up and walk. I think that was the point Sam made in his comment. “Dino” too.
That said, we are not satisfied with the status quo. And there are a few things we can do right now to raise the bar, without even reinventing anything (just tweaking):
1. Trash Walk works: We have a niche. So do it more often. Any one or two of us can pick up trash anytime. David and I were talking this morning about how LeStats should be the cleanest of corners. We’re there all the time. What’s 10 minutes at the curb picking up cigarette butts? What’s an hour on a Tuesday evening or Saturday afternoon? Meanwhile we can be more intentional about the ministry of presence during these times. Really stop to look and listen to the people we see while cleaning the ‘hood.
2. Maximizing Table Talk: I think there are ways to be radical as we continue to gather twice a month in this fashion. We can tip 50 percent; give money to the cashier and tell her to pay for the next meal in line; meet in smaller groups so we are more approachable; buy several extra copies of Servolution and place them on the counter as offerings for anyone who wants to read the book on us; proactively mingle with others in the cafe – particularly the needy. Absolutely we need to sit facing the rest of the room so we are more approachable, and be particularly mindful that we are open to what is going on around us. Along the way I am confident we will grow as servants in God’s image.
Thanks everyone! Love, TC
Yes – we need to be open, inviting and accepting to everyone in the cafe. Are we noticing the people near us who are listening in? Do we see the people nearby who are reading their Bible? Do we see the lesbian and gay people from the neighborhood who are there every week?
On the other hand, I am thinking that if I were to walk into a cafe and a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses were meeting, I would not want to feel any pressure from them to join in (I grew up next door to to a “Kingdom Hall” and am not interested in their teachings). Similarly, we want to be open and accessible, but at the same time not make anyone feel that we are trying to pressure them to join in or talk to us.
We have to ask ourselves if we are really open to anyone joining us. A homeless person, someone strung out on drugs, a gay or lesbian person, someone with really strange ideas about God and Christianity and even someone who is angry at God or the church – are we ready to invite them to join us? If Jesus is with us (We are inviting Him to be present, are we not?), what does He have to say?
We’re not quite a book club, although it is really easy for a Bible study group or even a church to degenerate into a book club. Read books, sit around and discuss them and go home. The book could even be books about the Bible, or even the Bible itself.
If we just read, discuss and go home, we’re basically a book club. This description is a perfect fit for a group I know. If we are not spurred to action, if we don’t change and take that change to others, we’re basically a book club, regardless of what the sign out front says.
Hopefully what we’re trying to do at AAC is to not just read and discuss, but to be challenged to act, and then do it. The key is whether or not we are changing our behavior – Are we taking what we read and impacting the lives of people – in the community and in all of the communities of which we are a part (neighborhood, workplace, extended family, etc.)?
Yes, I too want to be doing more. We must remember however, that we probably will take two to three years to build “street cred” with the community. We have to prove ourselves. Is there not also a sense in which we must build credibility, trust and a sense of community among ourselves? This takes awhile.
So we pick up trash, discuss books, read Scripture, sit on the board of the rec dept. and so on. We ARE moving ahead, slowly. Of course we need to continue to change, as a group and individually.
Perhaps this does not mean that the entire group must be doing all of the same things. Perhaps one person will take it upon themselves to spend time on the street, getting to know people in the neighborhood. Perhaps another will start an activity for neighborhood children. Perhaps another will commit a regular time to prayer for the neighborhood. Perhaps another will reach out to the addicts, prostitutes, or gay members of the community. Perhaps the whole group will decide to do a lunch for the homeless one day a week or one day a month.
Just a suggestion – Every month that has a fifth Sunday – Let’s do something other than Table Talk. Maybe one thing, maybe several things. Surely among us we can come up with several ideas. It could even include meeting together for a few minutes at LeStats (like we do for trash walk) before and/or after.