Perceptions from a Pewboy

I spent a good portion of last week at Olmsted Manor (a United Methodist retreat center just outside of Kane, Pennsylvania). I was there for the purpose of facilitating a 4-day workshop on the subject of creating new worship experiences in church settings where there are already well-established services of worship. About 40 people were present for the workshop. Most of the people were over the age of 50, and most were United Methodist by denomination (although there were a few Lutherans and Presbyterians in the mix). All but a couple of the participants were non-clergy.

The dialogue in the workshop was rich in its content and vibrant in its spirit. It made me remember how much I love discussing liturgical matters with people who are passionate about worship.

One of my first orders of business was to articulate my reluctance to employ adjectives like “traditional” and “contemporary” when describing worship, since so much of what we call “contemporary” these days is not really all that new. Likewise, so much of what we call “traditional” only goes back a century or so. The flippant and imprecise usage of such adjectives simply bears witness to the poverty of nomenclature with which we struggle in our conversations about worship.

Not surprisingly, the issue that generated the most conversation at the workshop was the issue of music.

Just in case you might be interested, the following is a list of convictions that I shared with the workshop participants. This list represents some of my most deeply held beliefs concerning the development of music ministry in newer worship events. As you might imagine, this list generated a great deal of conversation in the workshop.

Some Personal Convictions
Concerning the Development and Implementation
of the Music Ministry for a New Worship Experience
Eric Park (June 2007)

1. Church musicians emerge from strange places. Sometimes they are to be found in congregations. Other times, they are found in bar bands, coffee houses, and high school orchestras. In other words, look everywhere.

(The question most frequently asked by those beginning a new worship experience is this: “Where can I find good musicians?” There is no reliable and succinct answer to that question. The “right” musicians are normally found over time, at the serendipitous intersection of prayerful searching, word of mouth, and creative networking with area musicians.)

2. Musicians committed to excellence tend to draw other musicians with a similar commitment.

(When a quality musician is in place, he/she may become the instrument through which the Spirit attracts other musicians.)

3. The best ministry of music will build an artistic bridge between that which is considered “traditional” and that which is considered “contemporary.”

(Too often, a church’s music ministry operates with an “either/or” mentality—the music, in other words, must be EITHER traditional OR contemporary. Newer worship experiences must find ways to resist such a restrictive mentality, so that ancient hymns might find new expression, and so that the best of the contemporary praise choruses might be given a rich liturgical environment in which to resonate.)

4. The best ministry of music will maintain both high energy and artistic elegance.

(If we read the Psalms holistically, we are compelled to come to the conclusion that worship music must have about it BOTH the energy of loud, clashing cymbals and the artistic elegance of the lyre. God, after all, deserves both moods—energetic praise and elegant adoration.)

5. The best ministry of music will lead the congregation into both vibrant celebration and quiet attentiveness.

(God deserves loud songs of praise. But God also deserves the kind of stillness in which God’s presence might be discerned and encountered.)

6. The best ministry of music will place the focus, not upon the personality of the musicians, but upon the majesty and mystery of God.

(It is important that the musicians, and all leaders of worship, see themselves as servants of the Word and not stars of the show. This distinction helps one to understand the difference between music as an offering and music as a performance.)

7. Lyrics are important and deserve careful attention.

(Not all songs that mention “God” are appropriate for every worship setting. It is best when musicians place before the worshiping congregation lyrics that have about them both theological and artistic integrity.)

8. Music tends to inspire passionate opinions. Prepare for the various reactions to newer musical expressions, and be patient.

(No portion of worship generates more heated debate than the ministry of music. Helping a congregation through these issues is hard but important work.)

9. Music touches places in the soul that the spoken word cannot reach.

(The journey toward excellence in music ministry, then, is well worth the struggle.)

10. Music can become either a liturgical enhancement or a liturgical distraction.

(We will not always land on the right side of this distinction. But we must always be aware of it.)

Tara and I took a week off recently and caught up on the essentials: rest, reading, prayer, and movie-going!

During the time off, I finally bit the bullet and watched the entire first season of a television show that, while praise by the critics, somehow flew beneath my radar over the last few years.

The show to which I am making reference is the current incarnation of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.

Originally, I avoided the show because of the painful memories that I still have of the ultra-cheesy 1978 version of GALACTICA. But let me tell you, this new GALACTICA really delivers in the science fiction department. Good acting. Clever stories. Acceptable special effects. Cooler cylons.

In fact, the cylons in the current GALACTICA have the capacity to “wear” human flesh, enabling them to look and act just like humans. The show, as a result, is undergirded by a sense of social paranoia, since every human character is looked upon as a possible cylon spy. (I’m appreciative of the bright light that such a plotline sheds on our current social paranoia related to terrorism, among other contemporary realities).

Are any of you fans of the show?

If you like good television science fiction, it may be worth a try. I’ll be renting or purchasing season 2 on DVD before too long.

Watch out for the cylons. They’re everywhere.

I just read about a 36-page document issued by the Vatican last week. The document is entitled GUIDELINES FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF THE ROAD. It is essentially a compendium of “do’s and don’ts” concerning the moral dimension of vehicular conduct.

At the heart of the documents are “nine commandments” that I found to be particularly meaningful:

I: You shall not kill.
II. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm.
III. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events.
IV. Be charitable and help your neighbour in need, especially victims of accidents.
V. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin.
VI. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so.
VII. Support the families of accident victims.
VIII. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness.
IX. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party.

Quite frankly, I see this document as an indication of the Vatican getting something right. My personal experience tells me that our roads, streets, and highways are places of daily spiritual crisis. Millions of desperate souls, some stressed by their day at the office, others angry about what their lives have become, take to the road every day. They climb into the sanctuary of their vehicle and genuflect to the altar of the dashboard. Some of these people listen to music that is superficial and dehumanizing. Some scream obscenities at anyone who dares either to violate their vehicular rights or to impede their vehicular progress. Others implement what my father used to call the “one finger salute.”

When I pause to examine my own conduct on the road, I am saddened by the realization that, all too often, I am guilty of objectifying or even demonizing other motorists, reducing them to faceless competitors instead of seeing them as fellow travelers. Too frequently, in other words, I fail to recognize the spiritual nature of every trip I make in the car. In my eagerness to compartmentalize my life, I see my vehicle as merely an “unspiritual” resource that will transport me from one “spiritual” event to another.

The problem, of course, is that, if we fail to recognize the spiritual nature of our vehicular behavior, we will permit ourselves to behave like complete jackasses on the road, provoking other people and dishonoring the Christ that we are to serve in every segment of our living (even when we’re behind the wheel). I grow weary of hearing Christian people rationalizing their road rage and their road rudeness with simplistic dismissals: “Well…that’s just the way I am. Bad drivers just bring out the worst in me.”

I greatly appreciate the Vatican’s willingness to recognize the spiritual nature of our conduct on the road. It is time for Protestants to follow suit.

How would the dynamics on our roads change, I wonder, if all Christ-followers were intentional about looking upon their vehicles as holy sanctuaries, places where a reverence for God is nurtured and the love of Christ is practiced?

One news report described the content of GUIDELINES FOR THE PASTORAL CARE OF THE ROAD in this fashion:

In short the objective is to promote ‘road ethics’ to which the Church feels it should and must contribute, by denouncing dangerous situations and by urging Catholics to use their radios to produce songs whose content are not superficial and whose lyrics might promote personal formation. Beyond this, the document encourages Catholics to worship as they travel by periodically celebrating the liturgy while stopped at intersections and while enjoying meals at roadside restaurants.

So, then. Here’s our re-worded portion of liturgy for the day:

The Lord be with you!
AND ALSO WITH YOU!
Lift up your car, truck, or SUV!
WE LIFT THEM UP TO THE LORD!

Steven Weinberg, a prominent American physicist, once offered these thoughts in a 1999 speech, delivered in our nation’s capital:

Religion is an insult to human dignity. Without it you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.

I’m intrigued by Weinberg’s idea that religion has the wherewithal to inspire “good” people to do evil things. I will not attempt to refute that point. History, after all, is replete with examples of good people doing evil things in the name of religion. The crusades. The Salem witch trials. The Holocaust. The Ku Klux Klan. The Taliban. The list of evils emerging from distorted religious conviction is as long as it is heartbreaking.

The question that I would raise, however, has to do with Weinberg’s speculation that, if religion were somehow to be eliminated from human consciousness, we would be left with a far better condition—a condition in which only the evil people would perpetrate evil acts.

Surely I’m not the only one who finds this line of thought misguided and simplistic.

Every week, we hear stories about abusive husbands hurting their wives; jilted lovers doing harm to the ones who jilted them; and jealous spouses shooting the husband or wife suspected of infidelity. These acts are committed by otherwise noble and respected citizens. Perhaps Weinberg would want to eliminate love from human consciousness as well, since, when distorted, it seems to produce such tragic results.

The same political power that produces democracy can also produce tyranny. Good people (relatively speaking, of course) are guilty of accepting bribes and brokering clandestine deals, all in the name of a political cause. Perhaps Weinberg would want to eliminate political proclivities from human consciousness as well, since, when distorted, they seem to produce such Machiavellian maneuvering.

Or what about money? How many “good” people have been led into evil pursuits because of the seductive lure of wealth? Wars are fought, after all, for oil and territory every bit as frequently as they are fought for religion. Perhaps Weinberg would want to eliminate capitalism from the human consciousness as well, since, when distorted, capitalism tends to produce a willingness to render evil if the price is right.

Is religion really the “insult to human dignity” that Weinberg suggests? At times, perhaps. But, then again, any process has the potential to insult human dignity when that process becomes more focused upon egocentric control than it is upon the maintenance of its original purpose.

It sounds to me as though Weinberg is unfairly attempting to make religion a scapegoat. There is nothing new about that endeavor. But I would hope that such a learned man would see the danger of such sweeping generalizations. I would remind Weinberg that, historically speaking, even the pursuit of science, when distorted by the quest for power, can lead to manifestations of evil.

Today, like pretty much every day, I am thanking God for my dad and for the gift of his presence in my life.

On sunny afternoons, my dad taught me how to field ground balls and throw a frisbee.

In a steamy bathroom, he taught me how to shave—and how to stop the bleeding!

In his 58-year marriage to my mother, he taught me how to love, respect, and cherish a woman (and how to be loved, respected, and cherished BY a woman).

With his quick and sharp wit, he taught me about the sacramental nature of laughter and the value of discerning the comedic in everyday life.

In some of our less successful outings at the Pinewood Derby, he taught me that losing graciously is every bit as important as winning graciously.

As a man of deep faith, he taught me about Jesus and his saving grace.

As an ordained pastor in the United Methodist tradition, he taught me what it means to serve the church with integrity and vision.

Through his discipleship, he taught me about the urgency of making certain that there is consistency between the way in which I worship and the way in which I live.

Currently, my dad is struggling with Alzheimer’s Disease. Truth be told, it hasn’t actually been diagnosed as Alzheimer’s Disease yet, but you probably know how that goes. It is still so mysterious a disease that sometimes a precise diagnosis cannot be rendered until later on in the journey. Suffice it to say that my dad’s condition, if it is not Alzheimer’s Disease, certainly looks and acts like it.

My dad’s strong memory has always been one of his most impressive resources—up until now, that is. These days, he struggles mightily in that department. It is becoming more and more difficult for him to remain focused during sustained conversations. He is gun-shy about asking questions around the dinner table, fearing that he has perhaps already asked the question once or twice before. Those of you who have been through this kind of thing probably understand the realities that I am describing.

It has been a painful experience for Dad and Mom and our family. As one might expect, however, Dad and Mom are facing the challenge with courage, grace, and a beautifully vibrant sense of humor. They are grateful to have one another. They are also grateful for their relationship with a Savior whose grace is sufficient both in seasons of health and seasons of struggle.

As an amateur songwriter, I tend to unpack my emotional baggage through the creative process. Some time ago, I wrote a song about my dad’s condition. I recorded the song with my wife, Tara, and gave it to my dad as a gift.

He liked it.

I’d like to share the lyrics of the song with any of you who are interested in reading them. The song is called, “Remember.” If you would like to hear Tara singing the song, it can be found here (paste the link into your address bar): http://www.chcumc.com/weblog/eric/wp-content/uploads/remember-mix2.mp3

Here are the song’s lyrics:

What makes a man a man? Is it his ability to remember things?
Or is it the desire to do a thing in the first place?
I’m thinking of a man whose memory fails him all too frequently.
I refuse to think he’s less of a man than he used to be.

The memory is just one portion of the person one becomes
And when it fails it doesn’t mean that one’s a failure.
I’ll hold your memories as though they were sacramental bread.
And we will break that bread with reverence and frequency.

Chorus: And I’ll remember for you when you forget.
Your noble legacy demands nothing less.
Don’t think me burdened by this sign of respect.
It’s an honor to remember for you when you forget.

I see you in the back yard teaching both your boys how to throw a ball.
I see you in the living room reading to your daughter.
Your fiftieth anniversary looking at your wife like you did fifty years ago.
I see you in a preacher’s robe teaching us all ‘bout the things of God.

(bridge) With the pure water of your outpoured life
You have filled five hundred thousand cups.
We have sipped from the wellspring of your decency.
You’re who we want to be when we grow up.

Thanks for allowing me to share a portion of my dad with you.

I spent the entire day yesterday (sunrise to sundown) at Oakmont Country Club, enjoying the U.S. Open and admiring the talents of the world’s greatest golfers.

In the morning, I spent a couple of hours in the grandstands overlooking both the fifth green and the entire par-3 sixth hole. While sitting there, I listened to the comments of the people around me and suddenly felt like I was sitting in a church service or meeting.

These were some of the comments that I heard (translated into churchspeak for the liturgically impaired):

“As much money as these golfers make, they should sign autographs every time people ask for them.” (Churchspeak translation: “We pay the pastor’s salary, therefore s/he should be available to us whenever we want him/her to be.”)

“Can you save my seat? I have to visit one of the portojohns.” (Churchspeak translation: “Don’t let anyone sit in my pew.”)

“You know that Tiger’s wife is white, right?” (Churchspeak translation: “Whites should stay with whites, ‘colored’ folks should stay with ‘colored’ folks.”)

“Why would Sergio Garcia wear those ugly blue pants?” (Churchspeak translation: “Why would they choose THOSE curtains for the Fellowship Hall?”)

“I’m going to stay in these bleachers until I see every single golfer play this hole.” (Churchspeak translation: “I was here long before the pastor arrived, and I’ll be here long after he leaves!”)

“When the U.S. Open was held here back in 1994, we could get much closer to the players.” (Churchspeak translation: “We’ve never done it that way before.”)

“I can’t believe that they’re charging five dollars for a stinkin’ hotdog!” (Churchspeak translation: “I don’t like the preacher talking so much about money! I’m on a fixed income!”)

“I’m not going to stay all day. I just wanted to be able to say I attended the U.S. Open.” (Churchspeak translation: “Look, I attend worship once a month. What more does God want, for crying out loud?!”)

“I hope a foreigner doesn’t win the Open this year.” (Churchspeak translation: “God bless America!”)

“How can Tiger concentrate with that huge crowd of people following him? If I were a golfer, I’d want to be as anonymous as possible.” (Churchspeak translation: “Our church has gotten too big. I don’t feel like I know everybody anymore.”)

Even at the U.S. Open, I can’t get away from the church!

The Generous Orthodoxy Think Tank recently reported this interesting and troubling survey statistic:

In an April 2006 survey, Christians living in the U.S. were asked this question: “Do you think of yourself first as American or first as a Christian?”

The results? 48% said “American first”; 42% answered “Christian first” (with 7% volunteering “Both” and 3% “Other/Don’t Know).

It is no wonder that, in most of our sanctuaries, the American flag is never too far away from the altar of God. I raise this issue intending no disrespect to our country’s flag or to people’s strong sense of patriotism. But when patriotism trumps discipleship to Jesus as our primary means of identification, idolatry is the inevitable result.

This is a tricky and complex issue, especially given the long-preserved commingling of jingoism and Christian thought. I certainly cannot do justice to it in a few sentences.

But I am concerned that the majority of Christians surveyed last year place themselves under a flag before placing themselves at the foot of the cross. Dangerous and heartbreaking things happen when we see the cross in the flag’s shadow instead of the other way around.

Last week, Tara and I saw a rather strange and unpleasant film.

I would love to be able to discuss the film with someone who has seen it. I dare not recommend the film, however, because it is so bizarre in its content and so graphic in its violence.

That said, the film raised a number of interesting sociological issues for me about which I feel compelled to blog a bit.

The film to which I am making reference is BUG, written by Tracy Letts (who also wrote the play) and directed by William Friedkin (who also directed THE EXORCIST). The strangely-assembled cast includes Ashley Judd, Michael Shannon, and Harry Connick, Jr..

The film focuses on the bizarre relationship between an emotionally scarred woman (Judd), recovering from a horribly abusive marriage, and an eccentric drifter (Shannon) who suffers from post-traumatic stress related to the Gulf War. Shannon’s character, driven by paranoia, believes that he was subjected to horrific scientific experimentation sanctioned by the U.S. government. More specifically, he believes that tiny aphids (bugs) have been placed under his skin in order to make him compliant.

The film depicts the two main characters’ downward spiral into an ever-deepening sociopathy as they pull one another into their personal stories and as they begin to foster solidarity against the world that they believe is out to get them.

One filmgoer describes BUG this way on the Internet Movie Database:

It’s a love story without the love, a surrealistic drug nightmare without the dependency of drugs. The saddest part of the tale is the fact that there is no love in this story, but instead both of the characters feel the need to find someone, anyone, to depend upon. They each get the other character sucked into their own nightmares, because, well, misery loves company…Do not believe this is a bug movie, it’s a paranoia one, but it is definitely worth seeing.

Like Kafka’s METAMORPHOSIS and even Chuck Palahniuk’s FIGHT CLUB (made into a David Fincher film), BUG seems to focus on the social alienation and debilitating paranoia that our unjustly compartmentalized world often nurtures.

Which brings me to these questions: How I am “bugged?” How are WE “bugged?” Where is it, in other words, that we find ourselves being sucked into the kind of sociopathy that a film like BUG brings to light?

Is the dynamic of road rage, for example, nothing but a manifestation of stress? Or is there more to it than that? Is road rage more the result of the paranoia of believing that every other driver is out to obtain something that rightfully belongs to us? Is our “bug” the egotism of believing that our vehicle is our personal kingdom and the road is our territory to be conquered?

Is the dynamic of racism merely the product of an unenlightened worldview? Or is that too simplistic? Is racism more the result of the paranoia of believing that people of color are attempting to gain control of our cultural or socio-economic territory? Is our “bug” the fear of what it might mean to relate to someone whose racial and cultural identity and perspective are very different than ours?

Last week, I spent several days in a time of Christian conferencing that figures prominently in my denominational tradition. It was a time of important decisions, vibrant worship, and much-needed reconnection with colleagues. But, on occasion, it was also a time of compartmentalization and alienation. Conservative versus liberal. Political posturing versus prayerful discernment. Inclusivity versus theological profiling. “Contemporary” worship versus “traditional” worship. Old versus young. Clerical collars versus neckties (or t-shirts!). All the different compartments seemed to be present and well-defined. It didn’t prevent Conference from becoming something good and rich. But our penchant for compartmentalization was certainly there.

Is all of that compartmentalization simply the inevitable result of such diversity within the denomination? Or does that explanation overlook deeper implications? Is the compartmentalization and alienation experienced at Conference more the result of the provincialism and territorialism of paranoid clergy and laity? Is our “bug” the ecclesiastical arrogance that would lead us to believe that our voice deserves to be heard more than someone else’s?

I don’t want to make too much out of all of this. But I don’t want to make too little of it either. BUG might not be a great film. (See it at your own risk!). But, when employed as a cinematic lens through which to explore culture and church, it may just bring some of the more unpleasant realities into sharp focus.

Today, I ran across this great quote offered by none other than Kurt Vonnegut:

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.”

I wanted simply to chuckle and move on in my reading. But something about those seventeen words captured my attention and inspired me explore them a bit more deeply.

Perhaps they struck a chord in my reflection because of the guilt that I sometimes experience on those days when I feel like I’m “pretending” to be a pastor—or pretending to be a disciple, for that matter. There are days, for example, when my introverted personality cries out for solitude. But an afternoon of counseling appointments or hospital visits compels this introvert to do some holy “pretending” in the area of appearing interested, invested, and well-focused, all the while listening to the stories of precious and sometimes broken souls.

There are days when I long to speak my mind to ornery church members, burying them with the creative rebukes and insults that I have been secretively rehearsing for months. But the biblical call for patience causes this often-impatient pastor to do some holy “pretending” in the area of tongue-holding and refusing to respond in kind.

There are days when the competitor in me is sorely tempted to utilize preaching and teaching as a spiritual weapon, offending people with my personality instead of offering to them the Word of the Living God. But discipleship’s long-standing emphasis upon servant leadership brings this arrogant pastor to his knees, causing him to do some holy “pretending” in the area of homiletical hospitality and graciousness.

Vonnegut’s quote strips away the veneer of my piety and takes me into the depths of who I am. In short, I am an occasional pretender. Not a charlatan. Not a full-time hypocrite. Not a wearer of masks. But a sinner who, when he does not feel the desire to do the Christ-like thing, must allow the Holy Spirit to bring him into the land of make-believe. To put it another way, when I do not desire to be the pastor or the disciple that I know Jesus is calling me to be, I have no other choice but to pretend to be that pastor and that disciple, until the Spirit transforms my pretending into genuine and heartfelt desire.

It has been said that practice makes perfect. Perhaps holy pretending makes perfect as well—pretending to be something until we become that something.

I will be the first to acknowledge that there is also an unholy pretending to which we can fall prey. Chronic hypocrisy, for example, is a pathological form of pretending. But that is not what I am describing here. I am making reference to the kind of “pretending” that Moravian Peter Bohler had in mind when he told John Wesley to “preach faith until you have it, then, because you have it, you will preach faith.” It was Bohler’s way, I think, of telling Wesley that faith must sometimes be practiced (pretended) until it can be authentically embraced and lived.

How is your holy pretending these days? After all, perhaps Vonnegut had it right. “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.” Are we pretending to be the right thing?

I started reading a book the other day entitled “Religion in Modern Times: An Interpretive Anthology.” Written by two sociologists of religion (Paul Heelas and Linda Woodhead), the book is an exploration of both the nature and the future of several contemporary religions expressions. I am reading the book primarily because I like to stay in touch with what sociologists are saying about religious trends.

I found this point from the book to be particularly interesting:

“In short, we predict that a wide variety of religions will continue to coexist, but that the winners will be those which put people in touch with a God beyond self, make a difference, sustain supporting and affective communities, emphasize experience, have a political or economic job to do, and empower.”

Allow me to offer a couple of disclaimers. First, I am troubled by the concept of any religion being a “winner,” as though the search for religious truth were nothing more than a cultural competition, to be judged by smug sociologists. Second, regardless of the nature of contemporary religions trends and sociological speculation, I am absolutely convinced of the verity of the church’s traditional liturgical proclamation that “the church is of God and will be preserved to the end of time.” For me, in other words, sociological analysis of religious trends is not the final word in my ecclesiological framework. Rather, the final word for me is my conviction that the church, with all of its sin, is the bride of Christ—a bride whom God sees fit to preserve, regardless of what transpires in other religious expressions.

That said, in the quote recorded above, I am intrigued by what Heelas and Woodhead have highlighted as being the characteristics of the “winning” religion (that is, the religion that they believe will be left standing when all is said and done). According to Heelas and Woodhead, the surviving religion will embody these characteristics:

1. It will “put people in touch with a God beyond self”. (I see this as a reference to a consistent proclamation of a transcendent God, a God who is something other than the glorification of an elevated self.)

2. It will “make a difference.” (The “winning” religion, in other words, will have a significant impact both upon the lives of its adherents and upon the community in which they live.)

3. It will “sustain supporting and affective communities.” (Please make note of the adjective. It is not simply “effective” communities, but “affective” communities—that is, communities that care about the emotions and moods of their participants.)

4. It will “emphasize experience.” (Holistic experience is valued over truncated intellectualism.)

5. It will “have a political or economic job to do.” (The “winning” religion will be able to incarnate a clear societal mission and purpose.) And, finally,

6. It will “empower.” (Adherents will be taught, inspired, and equipped to live vibrantly and joyfully in the midst of an often-difficult world.)

Nothing too new here, right? In fact, what intrigues me most about these six characteristics is the way in which they found expression in the church community described in the second chapter of Acts, verses 43-47. Think for just a moment about that powerful biblical description of the work of the first century church:

“Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles” (empowerment).

“All who believed were together and had all things in common” (supporting and affective community).

“They would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need” (political and economic purpose).

“…they spent much time together in the temple; they broke bread from house to house and ate their food with glad and generous hearts” (holistic experience).

“…they [praised] God…” (proclamation of a God beyond self).

“And day by day, the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (the capacity to make a difference).

What the sociologists have highlighted, then, is not a new ecclesiological typology. Instead, they have simply re-packaged, or at least re-articulated, what the early church incarnated nearly two-thousand years ago.

On a more personal level, in recent days, I have been utilizing this list of characteristics as a lens through which to examine the effectiveness of the church that I serve.

Is Central Highlands Church clear about its proclamation of a God beyond the collective “self” of its members? (I think that we are. My sense is that this issue in inseparably linked to the church’s sacramental life, and, more specifically, the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Since we added a third worship service—one in which the Lord’s Supper is celebrated weekly—I believe that our church’s worship life now has a deeper sense of the transcendent.)

Is Central Highlands Church making a difference? (I think that we are. We have worked hard in recent years to expand our ministry of outreach and to become more of a mission-minded and mission-driven church.)

Is Central Highlands Church establishing supportive and affective communities? (This is a real weakness for us, I believe. Protestant individualism is firmly entrenched in our ecclesiastical ethos. A consistent ministry of small groups or covenant groups is often discussed, but not yet implemented.)

Is Central Highlands Church cultivating opportunities for transforming experience? (This is “hit and miss” for us. Our worship life is becoming more experiential, I think. But we desperately need to grow in our ministry of communal prayer.)

Does Central Highlands Church have a political or economic job to do? (We are growing in this area. We are developing a deeper understanding of Jesus’ unique connection to the poor and the marginalized. The primary task at hand is to create some new ministries that will enable us to live in that connection.)

Does Central Highlands Church empower people in their discipleship? (I really believe that we do. I see evidence of this every day as I hear the stories of people making counter-cultural decisions for the sake of Jesus Christ.)

Sheesh. I’m sorry for such a long post. I simply intended to mention this new book that I am reading, and, well…you know how it goes.

At any rate, do these six characteristics of “winning” religious expressions sound about right to you? How do they fall upon your heart? And how do they shed light upon your community of faith?