|
Mike Norton
is a nice guy. Not to be confused with Ed Norton (who once
worked in the sewers of New York and hung out with Jackie
Gleason), Mike Norton is the pastor-in-charge of our new church
start in Canton Township. Thanks to your splendid response
to the "Pass It On" campaign, a ton of our money
is bankrolling his effort. And the guys who regularly hang
out with me at 6:30 each Wednesday morning have twice invited
Mike to meet with them ... the better to hear him out, buck
him up and cheer him on.
Mike's
church, whenever it is officially chartered, will be known
as Friendship United Methodist Church. When it was launched,
one year ago, it was front page news in the Free Press. That's
because it was designed to be, in its initial stages, a "different
breed of cat" as churches go. People were invited (via
a massive telemarketing blitz) to a rented and reconfigured
civic ballroom / auditorium ... to hear music played by a
rock band ... while sitting in chairs rather than pews ...
hearing a preacher in a sweater ... deliver sermons punctuated
by skits and video clips ... even as they sipped coffee while
worshipping (having been encouraged to do so by signs saying
that worshipful sipping was not only acceptable, but encouraged).
This was
not something Mike dreamed up by himself. This was something
Mike learned, step by step, in seminars developed by marketers,
for launching what, in our trade, are called "seeker-friendly
churches." The argument being that, if you want to reach
the under-forty unchurched, you had better "do church"
in a new way ... not because they don't know the old way ...
but because they do know, and don't like, the old way ...
don't trust the old way ... can't relate to the old way ...
and feel some degree of residual antagonism to the old way.
Therefore, anything that reminds them of the old way (robes
on the preacher ... organs in the chancel ... chancels ...
choirs ... crosses ... stained glass panels ... big fat hymnals
... suits and ties) probably has to go. At least for awhile
... if not for good.
The idea
being that you cast as wide a net as possible, and you try
to overcome any resistance ... in anybody ... who, for any
reason ... at any time ... has tuned himself or herself off
to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and managed to avoid darkening
the doors of any building where such a gospel is preached
and practiced.
Don't
knock it. Because, as a marketing methodology, there is no
small amount of evidence that it works. Although there needs
to be a lot of early outside money underneath it, and a charismatic
leader to "front" for it.
At Mike's
first service (thanks to the telemarketers and the newspaper
writers), there were over 500 people. One year later, that
has settled into a steady Sunday stream of 170 men, women
and children. But now comes the hard part ... not how to fashion
the curious into the interested, but how to fashion the interested
into an institution. For Mike's goal (which is either step
49 or step 94 of the Master Plan ... I haven't read it), is
that Friendship United Methodist Church should become a high-commitment
congregation. Which means what? Which means that before anybody
joins it, he or she should be willing to say "Yes"
to elevated standards for giving, attending, studying and
serving. All of which is laudable. All of which is biblical.
But some of which may be problematical, given that precious
little has been asked of these folks up to now. No tasks.
No pledges. No committees. No commitments.
Mike's
goal is to turn them on to a high-ticket ride (called "Discipleship
with Jesus Christ"), without turning them off to the
loss of a free ride (called "Hangin' Out with Mike on
Sunday Mornings"). I'm betting he'll do it. But, as Mike
will quickly tell you, it ain't gonna be a walk in the park.
But, then, discipleship never was. Or seldom is. I suspect
that some of Mike's people are just chomping at the bit, saying:
"Mike, I think I'm ready for this." But I suspect
that others are going to accuse him of "bait and switch"
tactics, saying: "Mike, we never bargained for this."
Still,
if you take away the stylistic extremes, I think you'll find
that we (at First Church) are in a somewhat similar position.
We are Canton ... and Norton ... on a much larger scale. The
only difference consists in the fact that we are starting
from a base that is much older, much broader, and considerably
more traditional. For what we have been trying to do ... at
least on my watch ... has been to cast an ever-broadening
net, while asking (of those we gather) an ever-deepening commitment.
We started
with a spirit ... yours, mine, and God's.
We continued
with a goal ... 3001 by 2001.
We identified
a task force ... .17 people meeting since last January.
We ratified
a vision and slogan ... at our December Charge Conference.
Which
has now occasioned a sermon ... this sermon
to explain "Deep and Wide" ... this slogan.
This is
why I would ask you to take hold of those mustard colored
sheets in your worship bulletin, where can be found printed
our vision and slogan ... along with some relevant verbiage,
fore and aft. Start with the purpose:
Purpose
Statement
The
purpose of the First United Methodist Church, Birmingham,
is to gather persons into the body of Christ, nurture them
as disciples of Jesus Christ, and equip them for ministry
and mission in the world.
This is
why we exist. To do these things. Which things? Three things!
It's right there in the verbs: gather ... nurture ... equip.
Gather,
who? Persons.
Nurture,
why? To produce disciples.
Equipping
them for ministry, where? In the world.
Start
with "gather." I like that verb. I believe in that
verb. I held out for that verb. But I didn't have to fight
for that verb. Because I had lots of company on the committee
who resonated to that verb.
"Gather"
is proactive, not reactive. It is a "seeking," "finding,"
"beat the bushes" kind of verb. We could have chosen
a different verb. We could have said that the purpose of First
United Methodist Church was to "welcome" people
into the body of Christ ... "receive" people into
the body of Christ ... "process" people into the
body of Christ ... or occasionally send the head usher to
see if anybody is standing outside, beating on the door, to
get into the body of Christ. But we rejected all those verbs.
We chose "gather." We chose it intentionally. Because
that's how churches grow ... intentionally. I have yet to
run into a church that grew by accident. Not that such isn't
possible. Given the amazing resources of the Holy Spirit,
I suppose anything's possible (including a church that grew
by accident). But I haven't seen one.
And how
will we gather them? Well, to some degree, we will gather
them individually (meaning face to face ... person to person
... witness to witness ... word to word). The importance of
such witnessing is something Matt Hook raises for us from
time to time. But every time Matt talks about it, it scares
some of you half to death. I can see the muscles in your face
tighten. Which is why we will also gather people (as the Vision
states) with expanding programs and expanding ministries ...
staffing for more ... offering more ... expecting more.
Which
will stretch us. But it won't break us. Jump to the 21st
Chapter of John. We are talking about the very last story
in the Gospel. The resurrection is history. The disciples
have gone night fishing. They catch nothing. I mean, absolutely
nothing ... zilch ... nichts ... nada ... skunked ... shut
out ... blanked ... whitewashed. They head for shore. They
see Jesus. They are forced to tell Jesus they haven't caught
squat. Whereupon Jesus says: "Cast your net on the other
side of the boat" ... meaning, do the same thing with
a new twist. So they do. Heave ho. Drop `em down. Pull `em
up. The net is full. In fact, the net is loaded (to the point
of being burdened). "Hey, give us a hand on this side
of the boat, will ya ... we can't field the yield."
Following
which comes this little aside about 153 fish. Which is a weird
number. Until you discover that, at that time, 153 was considered
to be the sum total of all the varieties of fish that existed
... of any size, sort, subgroup or species. Today, we know
better. We count higher. But at the time the Gospel of John
was written, 153 was thought to be all there was.
Then,
in an even weirder aside, the text says that although there
were so many fish, the net didn't break. Which is contrary
to what most people think will happen. For most people think
that if any one church nets too widely ... in terms of numbers,
or in terms of diversity ... said church will break (split,
come apart, factionalize).
Which
is certainly possible. But far from probable. You can look
it up.
And once
we gather them, it is our intention (according to our Purpose
Statement) to "nurture them" (which is a pastorally-caressive
verb), even as we "equip them" (which is a nice
boot-campy kind of verb). And the purpose of nurturing and
equipping them is so that we can send them to work with Jesus
Christ in the world ... which could be as far away as Lithuania,
or as close to home as your living room. And if you don't
like that paradigm, the world could be as far away as Finland,
and as close to home as your family room ... or Botswana and
your bedroom ... or Khartoum and your kitchen. You pick the
locales. I don't care. What I am trying to say is if we get
you here and feed you here, but nothing we feed you ever leaves
here, then we've failed you. And you will fail Christ ...
whose primary arena is not in here, but out there.
Consider
John 3:16: "For God so loved the church ... " No,
that's not right. That's not what John said. The other night
I was watching a football game and, during the kicking of
an extra point, somebody held up a sign that said: "John
3:16." So I ran to my study (while they were kicking
the extra point) to look it up. And it said: "For God
so loved the world ... " That's what it said. And then
it went on to say God sent his son into the world, not to
condemn it, but to save it. Which is why we are not one of
those churches whose members are standing on top of some mountain
waiting for God's spaceship to carry them off ... or the rapture
to float them up ... or an Armageddon-like battle to break
out, so that Jesus can kick the living bejeebers out of everybody
who doesn't love him as much as we love him. That may be some
Christians. But that ain't us.
Every
couple of years, I remind you of my all-time favorite New
Yorker cartoon. That's because I can't forget it, and I don't
want you to forget it either. Picture a Salvation Army Sally
(bell in hand) standing over a derelict. Picture the derelict
slumped against the wall of a building. Picture the derelict
with four days' worth of beard on his face, three fingers
worth of booze in his bottle, two trails worth of seepage
from his nose, and one eye swollen permanently shut. And,
looking at her through his one good eye, he says: "Sister,
can you save me here, or do I have to go someplace?"
Well, we are among those churches who believe we can save
him there. Which is why we've got to get you equipped, here.
And committed.
We've got to get you committed. Which is the radically new
thought that has elbowed all of the other thoughts aside in
our Vision Statement. For if by purpose we mean "where
we are," then by vision we mean "where we're going."
Vision
Statement
With
deepening commitments and expanding ministries, First United
Methodist Church, Birmingham, will change lives and become
a model New Testament congregation for the denomination
and the center of Christian faith in the community.
Having
talked of "expanding ministries," let me add a word
about "deepening commitments," both as to their
desirability and their measurability. Deepened commitments
are desirable. The more everybody gives, the more everybody
gets. It's Gospel Economics, 101. A man goes to the airport.
He has an open-ended ticket in his hand, good for any destination
... at any date ... at any time ... first class. He goes from
gate to gate, airline to airline, terminal to terminal. At
every point he checks out passengers ... checks out destinations
... checks out flight plans ... checks out travel brochures
... repeatedly marveling at the incredible opportunity that
is his: "Would you believe it, I can go anywhere in the
world."
Which
he can. Once he boards. But not everybody who goes to the
terminal, flies. There is a great myth concerning commitments
and churches. And the myth is that we ask you to make them
because they are somehow good for us. But the real reason
we ask you to make them is because they are somehow good for
you.
As to
their measurability, that's not rocket science. Any church
that helps its members deepen their commitments is going to
see a rise in the attendance of its members in the pew ...
a rise in the pledges of its members in the plate ... a rise
in the number of short and long term classes being offered
... a rise in the outreach hours and dollars being given ...
a growing list of Disciple Bible Study graduates and Walk
to Emmaus veterans ... that sort of thing. I know I'll be
able to tell it when I see it. Because I'm seeing it now.
All of
which will make us a life-changing church ... and a New Testament
church ... given that the two are synonymous. We will never
have one without the other. Because it's not possible to have
one without the other.
And what
are the imperatives laid upon a New Testament church? Well,
at the minimum ... or, perhaps, at the core ... they are the
very first words that Jesus ever said to a disciple ("Follow
me"), and the very last words Jesus ever said to
a disciple ("Feed my sheep"). Ironically,
both emphasize action over belief. Both constitute the bookends
of the Christian experience. And both (Hollywood screenwriters,
take note) are "f" words ... meaning "follow"
and "feed."
If we
do these things, we will become a denominational model. We
will also become a teaching church. I envision the day when
every program staff person will lead (or facilitate) a biannual
workshop for leaders of other churches, lifting up what could
be done elsewhere, because it is being done here. And being
done well. Chris Hall is already giving us a tremendous model
for this with his annual Composer Festival.
Which
brings us to the words, "the center of Christian faith
in our community." Those words were chosen, not to
satisfy our competitive juices (although you'd be surprised
at the amount of competitive juice that flows through the
veins of our church leaders), but to express our Christ-driven
urge to do our utmost for his highest. Our language has less
to do with external opposition to be overcome, than with internal
excellence to be achieved. In the last run-through of our
final draft, we spent more time on the words "the
center" than any other. Did they sound arrogant?
Or did they sound challenging? Did they close the doors on
our neighboring churches? Or did they raise the bar for our
church? Finally, after going around and around ... hemming
and hawing ... pro-ing and con-ing ... we left them in. Because,
by that time, none of us could imagine settling for anything
less.
Then we
closed our notebooks and prayed that the Lord was smiling.
|
