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Four steps to discipleship

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Today was my second sermon ever. I mentioned last week how I found I was struggling more than with my first sermon. Before going out to preach, I still wasn’t 100% happy with it; but after having said it, I am actually finding it better than my first sermon. Anyway, here, you can listen to it, read it (although I did ad lib a bit). But as it is long, I’ll provide a summary too.

sermon2

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Sometimes, we are locked in the cage of our own worries: fear of failure, or of what others might think, stop us from acting. And so we try to shut out that fear, going on with our lives as though there was no way to go out of that cage. That’s where the disciples are at the start of the Gospel reading, before Christ appears to them: fear-stricken, behind locked doors. And then something happens that transforms them into the bold apostles who stand up before the Sanhedrin, saying “We must obey God rather than any human authority“.

The transformation happens in this house, in this upper room, when Jesus appears to the disciples. And it has four steps:

1. Receive the risen Christ – and lean on him in all that we do. I cannot stress enough that he is already there, in our midst, even behind locked doors – no matter how many times we go back and lock the doors again. Our part in it is to recognise his presence. And that can be done through pausing, looking around us, praying, drawing near for communion, seeing Christ in our friends. But Christ needs to be the unquenchable source of our discipleship: because if we follow something else, that something will run out.

2. Receive his peace. That follows naturally from step one – as we know that Christ who defeated death is on our side; although sometimes it doesn’t feel quite like that. Again, pause, and make sure you receive Christ’s peace before rushing out. I think that in giving us his peace, Christ unlocks the door – if we run out too fast, we might hurt ourselves quite a bit.

3. Receive and embrace his command, which is simple: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. We are to model Christ in our discipleship – be real imitators of him, and that means doing everything out of our love for God and for others, and in a spirit of submission – even when our will goes against what is asked of us.

4. Receive the Holy Spirit: we are not alone in this action!

I think that we each tend to focus on one step rather than all four. But they are equally important, and sequential. You can’t embrace God’s command without first receiving Christ and his peace – that would not be a race of perseverance.

If we follow all four, though, we will run that race to the end, with boldness and with peace. That’s why the liturgy goes: “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord”. We are to go beyond the church’s confines, but we are to be assured of that peace. And the response grounds this action in Christ: “in the name of Christ, amen.”

Peace be with you.

Christianity: about community?

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Last week, I wrote a post in which I highlighted the shift, in terms of focus, from nations to individuals between Old and New Testaments; in order to stress the importance of individual relationships rather than merely corporate ones. This week, I’m looking at the community aspect of Christianity.

community

Background: adapted from GreatPaperWolf, reused under CC license.

No better way to start than quoting a comment from last week:

The reformation, while rightly seeking to distance itself from the then overtly controlling religiosity of the Catholic church may have taken a step too far in their emphasis of individual salvation and personal faith.

As it is eloquently put, matters of individual/corporate nature of faith are matters of emphasis. Individual salvation and personal faith are Biblical. In fact, the picture painted in Luke 17 goes a long way to show that simply being with those who are saved is no guarantee of salvation. But this is “only” an eschatological matter.

Practice of faith is an altogether different matter. Have you ever noticed the following verse:

For when two or three gather in my name, there I am with them.

Matthew 18:20 (NIV)

It is usually read as “there is no need for massive congregations to worship”, but it is two or three – not one: there is no talk of individual worship. Of course, there are other moments where, say, individual prayer is commended; but it is clear that community is important.

After all, all-consuming, all-pervasive relationships are at the heart of the Trinity. On top of that, Peter was anointed to build a church – and though the meaning of church may have evolved over the centuries; originally, it seems to me that this all-consuming, all-pervasiveness was present: ἐκκλησία, generally translated as church or assembly, but which etymology could mean “called out of”, is used in the singular. Out of the many who are called, the church of Christ is, in its very substance one. That alone should be enough to ignite our passion for ecumenism (although ecumenism in itself is another subject).

The early church modelled this community way of life by pooling all their resources, and by remaining inextricably linked even when they were not geographically co-present. There is an incredibly powerful sense of acting congregationally whenever Paul exhorts us to pray for all the saints (something that might be missed out because of the power of what comes before it!).

These elements, I feel, are far more powerful than the practical ones. The advantages of communal prayer, or the description of the Church as one body are helpful to convince oneself that it is worth doing; but let us not forget in this description that the Church is not just one body: it is the body of Christ.

From the perspective of the in-up-out triangle (1), then, the sense of community coming before the individual is very strong in the in and the up vertices of the triangle. Very importantly, these all-pervasive links between individuals which form the assembly are involving us: we are part of them. It isn’t like a different organisation we can distance ourselves from: we are intrinsically in the church.

But we haven’t seen that happen in the out vertex. Of course, the vertices of the triangle are not independent; so there will be elements of community shining through in our outreach. And we will do it with the support of our community. But the other whom we are reaching out to is not a community nearly as much as it is individuals; and this should not be forgotten.

(1) Yes, I have used Lifeshapes. I feel dirty now. But for those of you who don’t know it, it is about the direction of growth both for local churches and for individuals: in (fellowship, discipleship, etc.), up (looking towards God, worship, etc.) and out (outreach, evangelism, social justice, etc.)

Christianity: about individuals?

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Much of the Old Testament is about the nation of Israel as a whole. Israel is God’s chosen people: it is as a people that it is led to the promised land, is exiled, chooses a king, etc. When individuals start misbehaving, the whole nation gets the stick jointly. It works the other way around, too, although there is far less of an emphasis on the link between joint, congregational behaviour and return to grace (I can think of one explicit, though academic, instance).

individuals

Background: GreatPaperWolf, reused under CC license

The Old Testament is, then, mostly the story of the Israelites as a people and of a few heroes whose actions are directly linked with that of the people (the judges and kings, in particular). It is particularly revealing of the mindset of the Israelites to notice that the names listed in the early genealogies include those of nations we still know today, or that they are used as bywords for the whole nation (in particular, Jacob/Israel in the Psalms). Job is, admittedly, an exception (1).

The luxury afforded in the Old Covenant, of being able to say “us and them”, is now gone. The parables and the beatitudes are not generally linked with nations; and when nations get mentioned, it is in a culturally challenging fashion: the Samaritan’s behaviour surprises, and Jesus’ behaviour towards the Samaritan does to. What I consider to be one of the most powerful verses of the Epistles spells it out with no escape left to us: the New Covenant is available not simply to all nations, but to each individual. This is not to say that nations stop being relevant; but that they stop being sufficient.

This shift is twofold: “us” is no longer sufficient. We can no longer leave to the Levites the duty of prayer and worship; we can no longer leave to others the duties of care, even if we support them. And whilst we do not have to go it alone, we should not let the need for congregate action become an excuse for not doing stuff individually. To spell it out, if someone comes knocking asking for help, we should not reject them, merely sending them off to whatever organisation, justifying ourselves by the fact we financially or practically support said organisation sometimes – i.e. by the fact that we are “citizens” of that nation/organisation. We have a duty to love our neighbour, and that goes through listening. I’m not saying we should ignore the work done by organisations, or that we should do all the work they’re doing as individuals – just that we cannot use them as excuses.

“Them” is no longer sufficient either. We are no longer allowed to lump all homeless people together into a nation of homeless. We are no longer allowed to lump all drug addicts into their own nation. We are no longer allowed to lump all Catholics together. We are no longer allowed to lump all middle-class people together. Even so for coffee drinkers: they may be in the wrong, but that should not stop us from connecting with them as individuals; rather than as people who merely need to discover tea.

This is a difficult task to which we all fail. I’ll be the first to raise my hand and say I don’t quite live by these values. I sometimes walk past homeless people and fail to care for the individual; and I sometimes justify it in my head thinking either about how busy I am (commitments to my nation) or that there are plenty of ways for these people to find help (dumping responsibility onto my nation). While I don’t tend to assume they will use whatever I would give for alcohol or drugs (which would be lumping them together into one nation), I sometimes still think that they might (I just say, well, if they do, there’s nothing I can do about it) and fail to engage with the individual. Which, again, is treating them as a nation.

But the command is clear: love your neighbour as yourself. Not the nation of your neighbours: your neighbour. And that is a great challenge.

(1) Isn’t it interesting that it also happens to be, as far as I can recall, the only place in the Old Testament where the Devil is seen undeniably as an external entity rather than as a mere tempter?

My greatest fear

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My greatest fear is that I end up doing church.

Scarecrow
Photo: jcookfisher, under CC license.

Regardless of the number of activities I partake in on weekdays, of how involved I can get in church life, the risk is still there: that I consider church, small groups, Bible studies, etc. to be something that I do. Because there’s a fine line between that and those things being what I do. But also because it is much easier to constrain specific actions to specific settings. And finally because it can lead to dissatisfaction with myself and others, as there is always more that I, or they, could do.

And none of these are desirable prospects. What I want is for my faith and my belonging to the local and global church to be part of my identity. For these things to seep through everything that I do and that I am, but not to be the object of my actions. It may sound like a pedantic difference to make, but it is important to make it, because church is more than the sum of its parts: it is more than all that we do there.

That can be used as an excusenot to go on the rota. But it shouldn’t, because that in turn could lead to a reluctance to get involved – and the death of the excitement felt at first.

Rather than avoiding doing stuff for church, rather than simply trying to be church, here’s the key: remember that what you do is about, for, with and from God:

  • when you read the Bible for the congregation, don’t simply “do the reading”, thinking you have to get it done for the rest of the service to go on. Remember what it is you’re reading (it is from God). Remember why you’re reading the Bible (to tell the congregation about God). And with the help of the Holy Spirit, proclaim boldly the Word and make it alive. Take the time that is needed, because it is for God.
  • when you’re leading worship, don’t let the technicalities of keeping rhythm, etc. (I have very little clue what I’m talking about here!) overwhelm you. Remember who you’re singing about. Whom you’re praising. Where the songs come from. And that the worship is, again, with the help of the Spirit.
  • when you’re serving tea, remember what hospitality is about and whom we’re trying to emulate. Remember where the love you’re showing comes from (that, and the goodness of tea). Seek the presence of God and let it shine through you.
  • when you go out of church – keep on reminding yourself of that throughout the week, in all that you do. That way, what you do will never be about what you do.

When I remind myself of God’s hand in what I do, the words of Philippians 4 come alive:

the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, guards my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus.

The pastoral imperative

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I recently read a couple of books on ordained ministry. The more modern ones, and the blogs I read, have rightly identified leadership as a key skill and a key task ministers will have. It is something I’ve found difficult to reconcile with the representative role of the minister, which seems to seep through every part of their ministry. Leadership, after all, is a highly secular term and can happen independently. Until it hit me:

Christian leadership is not simply leadership in a Christian context. It’s not even some form of new and improved “Leadership+”. It is intrinsically different, because the greatest commandment is this:

 

“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’”
(Matthew 22:37-38)

Crucially, the Great Commission comes after this. What this means is that our leadership and teaching needs to happen in this context and this way. The first point is obvious, but sometimes needs reminding in a world where skills are increasingly labelled and compartmentalised: God sets the course, not us. However we might lead, we strive to do so as representatives of God. Secondly, in Christian leadership, we cannot afford not to treat people holistically in all circumstances. When teaching, when leading, we need to consider them as the same as when we’re counseling.

Photo of a sheep

Photo by Linda Bailey, reused under CC license

Sermons are not dissociated from the rest of church life. People don’t suddenly become empty vessels, ready and anonymous receivers. When preaching God’s love for them, there is a need to make sure that the entire congregation is understanding that; and if there are some who are at a stage in their life where they cannot respond to it, the minister cannot afford not to find them, through that sermon or through another means.

This pastoral imperative is not restrained to specific times or tasks – it has to permeate the life of the minister.

Crucially, though, pastoral care does not mean sugarcoating the truth, or leaving people comfortably sitting where they are. For one, we are not setting the agenda – God is. But let us also remember that being a pastor, i.e. a shepherd, includes leading sheep from one patch to another. Being pastoral means being a leader.

How do you (practically) integrate teaching and pastoral care?

When and why did we start dissociating leadership from pastoral-ness?