You are currently browsing the tag archive for the 'emergence' tag.
Things are moving along swimmingly at Smyth & Helwys. The official title of our book is: “Baptimergent: Baptist Stories from the Emergent Frontier.”
The similarities in title to Tony Jones’ book “The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier,” are intentional. These are tradition-specific dispatches if you will. Stories that are a smattering of a larger multitude of creative, imaginative voices out there among Baptists today.
The irony in the title is that the publisher and I joked about the word “baptimergent” being cumbersome and downright ugly. The fact that it made the title is a lesson of its own. This is a cumbersome and ugly plight — this thing we call emergence. Then again, so is any birthing process.
The book is set for publication in March 2010. I am in the process of getting endorsements, and Tim Conder is wrapping up the Afterward. Tony Jones has already gotten his endorsement in. I hope the book will get yours once it hits the shelves. I’ll have more updates coming soon.
Teaser: Tripp Fuller and I also have some plans underway to do a podcast series with all the chapter writers on Homebrewed Christianity. I’ll be sharing those names and bios later on once the content gets finalized for publication.
Stay tuned!
Wendell Berry’s essay, “God and Country,” in his collection entitled “What are People For,” has to be one of the most profound for me as a clergy person. Its painful, convicting, and crisis-of-conscious forming. It also prompts me to imagine an alternative way.
His basic premise in the essay (which you should read for yourself) exclaims that Christianity as it is practiced in the west is predisposed to ecological conflict because of the way it has, “made peace with ‘the economy.’”
He writes:
“The organized church comes immediately under a compulsion to think of itself, and identify itself to the world, not as an institution synonymous with its truth and its membership, but as a hodgepodge of funds, properties, projects, and offices, all urgently requiring economic support.”
“Like any other public institution so organize, the organized church is dependent upon, ‘the economy.’”
As he levels his critique, Berry places his finger on how the tool of disembodied spiritualization actually maintains this economic alliance. He writes:
“No wonder so many sermons are devoted exclusively to ’spiritual’ subjects. If one is living by the tithes of history’s most destructive economy, then the disembodiment of the soul becomes the chief of worldly conveniences.”
Berry’s indictment is shared by many participants in emergence Christianity. The atonement was not only for individual human souls, but for all things. As long as its for individual human souls only, bodies, ecosystems, plants, and animals become accessories or distractions.
Berry then goes on to critique two “manifestations” that maintain the organized church’s alliance with the economy. For this post, I’ll focus on one, which is the first one he addresses in the essay. He writes:
“The first is the phrase ‘full-time Christian service,’ which the churches of my experience have used exclusively to refer to the ministry, thereby at once making of the devoted life a religious specialty or career and removing the possibility of devotion from other callings”
“The churches in this way excerpt sanctity from the human economy and its work just as Cartesian science has excerpted it from the material creation. And its easy to see the interdependence of these two desecrations: the desecration of nature would have been impossible without the desecration of work, and vice versa.”
Emergents have been picking at this scab for a while. I’ve had conversations about this and other conflicts related to being a professional Christian. Berry’s critique deals with the devaluation of work for the general public by the spiritual and financial valuation of full time ministry. There are other problems created by a paid clergy structure as well; from the silencing of prophetic proclamation, to the creation of congregational codependency upon staff.
What do you think? Should the structures that maintain a class of professional ministers be dismantled or evacuated? Can they be redeemed?
I’ve been carrying this blog as an internal dialog for a while, and a recent conversation with a colleague has inspired me to share it here.
My good buddy Tripp Fuller, of Homebrewed Christianity fame, and I started the Triad Emergent Cohort (Greensboro/Winston-Salem, NC) several years ago. It was a great venue for what was a largely new and burgeoning conversation about emerging trends in theology and church practice.
It was also a venue for recovery – mostly recovering Baptists – who were suffering an identity crisis along with vocational uncertainty. As a participant, I credit this cohort with keeping me sane during a time of vocational upheaval.
Recently the emergent cohort phenomenon as a whole has itself suffered a bit of an identity crisis. I have since moved to Raleigh, NC — that at one time had the first emergent cohort in this region. It had disbanded by the time I got here last November. While Tim Conder and I have discussed a revival of the group, life, work, books, and such have slowed any progress.
I have no idea what my former cohort has been up to, if anything.
Like any “movement,” (motion is inherent in the word) emergent is evolving. The cohort model was an effective piece of structure that helped many people find a home. A home that gave them the space to ask questions, cross boundaries, heal, rant, and so on. Yet, as the movement has evolved, so to must its structures. Yes, Emergent has structure. There’s nothing wrong with it either, and we shouldn’t fear it. What we should fear is idolizing those structures. (soap box)
Call me silly, but I still think local groups of committed people are the engine for any movement, and I believe that is still the case for emergent. However, these groups need a purpose beyond therapy and conceptualization, and they need a communications network and all the possibilities that come with it. These sorts of groups are also transient, and perhaps that is the very way they remain organic.
Where do we start? Think local and start talking to people. As I have listened and read my context, I have recognized some things. (Results may vary!)
1. Many established clergy know that they have to feed the machine or starve. This doesn’t preclude them from living out of their own emergence. What does prohibit them is lack of opportunity to do so. Cohorts could create opportunities for clergy to practice emergence. Notice I said practice rather than discuss. This will go a long way in keeping current creative clergy persons engaged in the church. Traditional churches are largely closed-off to creativity. Any reimagining of practices, structures, or processes can create panic in many churches. Clergy suffocate in such conditions. Cohorts could be a venue for exercising creativity in the liturgy (artistic multi-sensory worship off church premises on a week night), formational programs (pub groups, etc.), and in missional engagement (community garden for local soup kitchen or farmers market).
2. We have a back-up (in our moderate/liberal Baptist system anyway) wherein young theologically trained clergy are jobless. This is ironic since our leaders talk about being “concerned” about the lack of young leadership in the church. The truth is there is a generation and a half worth of creative hexagonal pegs, and everything out there is a 50’s model square hole. Add to that the fact that the only positions still deemed acceptable to newly trained creatives are youth and associate ones; where they are patronized to death for being naive starry-eyed little youngsters; and kept a safe distance away from the reigns of power. (soap box) Cohorts could create opportunities for young clergy to freely exercise their creativity and be taken seriously. (see above) They would be able to network with other clergy, and with people from the community.
3. Mainline university ministries are in rapid decline as denominational structures continue to come up short on giving, and cut their personnel costs. There are little to no emerging theological voices on the local campuses. While InterVarsity has, at times uncomfortably, been engaged in Emergent, it too has wrestled with just how much it is willing to emerge. The dominant voices on campus are the para-church fundamentalists. While they have the right to be there, we know that they do not speak for all of us. Cohorts could engage clergy, Div. schoolers, and anyone else in campus-related ministry projects. A cohort could develop a volunteer network of people to operate a campus ministry that over time might be viable enough to sustain itself financially.
I am not sure what your context is in need of. Are you asking?
I get it. We’re busy. We’ve got churches to lead and families to feed. I feel those pressures constantly. However, these things I’ve listed above trouble me deeply. I also believe that we cannot deny our place in history as stepping stones along the way to a new threshold. One we’ll likely not see.
Cohorts can still be a useful structure within the present emergence. I believe their purpose in the movement has evolved from recovery to action. In some ways they can be laboratories for reimagined forms of ministry, worship and practice to take place. They can be spaces where clergy stay alive and fresh, and where young leaders spread their wings. They can be this and so much more.
This is slanted pretty heavy toward clergy and church leaders because of who I am, and the conversational contexts that have informed this post. One great reality about emergent cohorts is the potential for anyone to participate. These are not closed communities, though they can be when they’re one-dimensional evangelical recovery groups. Organizing them around projects & practices will go a long way in opening them up to broader participation.
I’d love to hear thoughts from other folks about cohorts. What would be effective in your location? What would keep you alive and engaged in the greater emergence happening within western Christianity?
I was asked to follow up on the last post with some tangible suggestions. I’ll confess that its a bit difficult to offer a lot of concrete application here because the space wherein to pastor as friend is still quite small. Specifically in a traditional church context. I’ve found some spaces to do it, and I’ve imagined some ways that it could be nurtured and given room to grow.
The greatest space to pastor as friend is in your own home. My foray into this began when I was campus minister. During the summer months we would have students who were enrolled in summer school over for dinner every Monday night. We would have upwards of 25 college students pouring out of our little Cape Cod, hanging out on the porch, playing Bocce Ball, or congregating on the deck. Seeing your house as a space for mission and ministry places those types of “churchy” programs in a safer relational context…for you and for others. They might expect to see you in a suit in the church building, but that would look really stupid in your house. In other words, you can be yourself in your own home, and others will allow you to do that. This creates avenues for greater, dare I say, more authentic conversation about life, faith, and so on.
Another way to pastor as friend is to office once or twice a week in a public space like a coffee shop, cafe, or bookstore. Preferably a space with free wifi and free coffee refills. This is something you will need to work out with the rest of your staff and possibly with your personnel committee. Its a good way to meet with folks for pastoral conversations that do not demand a high degree of confidentiality. Its also possible to promote that time as a community chaplaincy. You should talk to the business owner before doing something like that. They may even help you promote the time you are available. I recommend doing this after you develop a rapport with the owner and staff. My first go at this was at a coffee shop that had free wifi and free refills on Thursday if you brought your own mug. After getting to know the owner and some of the staff, I asked if I could use their art gallery space to do a weekly sitting meditation for 30 minutes every Thursday morning. After talking it over with the gallery director, we were doing Lectio on prayer cushions at 7:30 AM every Thursday surrounded by local art. I was given permission to promote it using rave cards on tables, and posters on bulletin boards and bathroom stalls. What’s more, most of the people who came were not Christians.
A third space to pastor as friend is virtual space, specifically through social networks like Facebook and Twitter. Blogging is also another venue. None of these are a substitute for relationships of physical presence, but they are a supplement and a “front porch” kind of venue for friendship. All of these mediums of social media were indispensable in my work as a campus minister, and I have found just as much application for them in a traditional staff context. I’ve done Sunday School classes that have a blog for weekly conversation on topics and themes brought out in the Sunday morning conversation. Facebook and Twitter are also both great venues for sharing news, starting reading & conversation threads, sharing links to resources, and on and on. Additionally, there are people you do not know who may view your profile, read your posts, or follow your tweets. The potential for new relationships and connections are abundant. Herein again the expectations are not as constrained as they are in the church.
The above suggestions are not new, but they do require time and adjustments in the typical pastoral schedule. All of these ways of pastoring take place outside of the church. Mainly because that’s where there is space. There is space that can be made within the church that will take time to develop, but they will come slowly and only after a clergy person has developed trust within their congregation. The core of these changes has to do with decentralizing power in the church. Specifically decentralizing clerical power structures. As long as these structures remain, the expectations of church members for staff to inhabit those structures will remain.
One structure that can be decentralized over time is the liturgy/worship service. The word “liturgy” means “work of the people.” Unfortunately its been the work of the staff, and most often, the work of the music or worship minister. Contrary to traditional assumptions, worship is public property. You won’t get to that mindset any time soon in a traditional Baptist church, so baby steps will be required. The ideal in my mind is to get to a place where staff and members, either through a worship team, or community conversation, discuss the thematic direction and liturgical elements of a given service. What’s more, again speaking ideally, the practice of worship would involve diverse voices, spoken or sung, wherein the pastor(s) is but one of many. Part of becoming a pastor as friend is dismantling the invisible wall of separation that exists in every sanctuary after you pass the front pew and approach the podium stairs. The architecture of our liturgy, and of our sanctuaries lends itself to our clergy being higher, distant, and set apart. That way of being is ritualized and thus forms the imaginations and identities of our community members.
A second structure that will need to be decentralized over time in order to pastor as friend is staff hierarchy. From pay scale to roles and responsibilities, most traditional staffs travel up a pyramid of leadership with the senior pastor at the top. Not only does this hinder pastoring as friends, it often hinders working as friends, especially for younger clergy. A decentralized staff allows its leaders to serve from healthy self-acceptance that comes from being able to speak, create, and share on a level playing field. It allows the for the kind of vulnerability that’s necessary for good collaboration because you’re less likely to be made anxious by criticism from a peer. You also have confidence that whatever disagreements or challenges you face together, no one person’s neck is on the line. Thus you can meet challenges with greater confidence, rather than have new ideas, or creative projects sabotaged by the one with the most to lose, i.e. the one at the top. You take your wins and loses together. When you can work as friends, you can pastor as a friend. Practically speaking, I imagine that if your co-equal group of pastoral leaders agrees that you all want to do more pastoring as friend, it has a higher likelihood of happening. You’ll work with one another to make it happen because you are in the habit of sharing responsibility and being accountable. Plus, its easier to relax and be yourself with your members when your weekly work practice allows you to do that same thing.
Like I said above. There is still a lot of flesh left to be put on these ideas. There is space out there to pastor as friend. It may not be in the church you serve right now, but there is plenty of space outside and in the virtual world. Explore these options, but make sure your church knows and understands what you are doing. You’ll kill any way forward by running off and doing these sorts of things without letting anyone know. It will look like you’re shirking responsibility to most folks.
As for changes on the inside of the church, Jesus said it best: “This kind can come out only by prayer.” (Mark 9:29) I don’t ever read “prayer” as the passive supplications of those consigned to let God do the work. Prayer is our allowing the Spirit of God to speak into our imaginations and inherent creativity so that we can bring the kin-dom of God on earth as it is heaven just as Jesus prayed. It will take time. It will require investing in relationships, particularly with those who do not trust, and are afraid of this new world that is emerging. It will require that some doors be opened within the various structures that still exercise a fair amount of control and influence in Baptist life. It will also require survival skills for those on the lead edge of what will, over the next 50 to 100 years, become the new incarnation of what it means to be church in the 21st century.
This weekend chair-members and leaders of Emergent Village are gathering to discern how the movement will continue its evolution. In case you’ve missed the news, you can read the post on the EV site and Tim Hartman’s explanation there as well.
I posted on Twitter yesterday that I believe the word “emergent” is suffering from the classic postmodern distaste of the familiar and over-done. I noticed this in early 2008 when I started seeing “emergent” bloggers writing to that end. One in particular confessed a frustration with how the word had become a marketing label for books published in the “emergent” genre. That this was taking us down a road that did not seem to fit with who we are.
This touches on a concern I have always had for the emergent movement; how do we continue emerging and define ourselves at the same time? Initially, for me, this meant avoiding mainstream popularity or being willing to critique it when it arose. Recently another understanding has emerged alongside that. I believe “emergent” must embrace its mortality.
I don’t mean that as an ending. I’m a resurrectionist (is that a word?). What I mean is that emergent must embrace its transient status as a generative nexus of creative people-of-the-way who are participating in a birthing process. A process that is bigger than the church. And as we all know, birthing is a process with a time-limit.
If we take seriously our place in history, we know that we’re roughly 50 years into a 150-200 year period of transition out of “Western Civilization” and into something that’s not clear yet. That means our instituting, structuring, and organizing will be messy, transient, and sometimes painful, but no less necessary and important in shaping what’s to come. But when “what’s to come,” gets here we’ll need to be able to move on with it, or allow those after us to move on with it.
One thing the story of Moses tells us is that leaders & movements emerge to bring people through transition, but often fail to experience the fruit of their labor. This is what I mean about embracing our “emergent” mortality. Could it be that we are here at this point in history simply to creatively navigate a wilderness transition? To bring the church to the edge of the Jordan and send her with our blessing?
Emergence is a global phenomenon. Its not our place to structure or control it, but rather to find those spaces where we can participate in it. Perhaps our discerning should be in the area of who and where we’re to be in this global process — then to go to those places and do it as people made in God’s image. Heck, you don’t even need a name for that.
I wish my emergent friends in Washington all the best this weekend. Thank you for your willingness to adapt and move. Blessings on your deliberations this weekend.
I’ve had the privilege of being part of the planning board for the 2009 Alliance of Baptist Convocation taking place at Park Road Baptist Church in Charlotte, NC, April 17-19. I was asked by a dear friend to be on that board, and have wanted personally to be more connected with the Alliance.
Last week, my role on the planning board put me right smack in the middle of a video adventure through western and central North Carolina. What I learned about the Alliance of Baptists (AOB) from those who have been there from the beginning was encouraging — even life-giving.
First some back-story…
Before I had language to put on it I began emerging from a Southern Baptist heritage. That began in seminary with what I call my first great disillusionment. That’s when I discovered that the family of faith I was a part of had been devouring one another for about two decades (at that time). I had heard the term “liberal” tossed around like an expletive growing up in church, but had no idea it was tied to an in-house battle for power. This troubled me so much that I almost rejected my Baptist identity. Thanks to H. Leon McBeth and his prophetic truth-telling about Baptist history, I left Southwestern a committed Baptist, and am still one to this day — even though I bear all the marks and sensibilities of a post-denominational, postmodern person of faith.
That said, I struggled with feeling at home within a religious tradition. My Baptist identity was tied to significant historical individuals who embodied the kind of Baptist-ness I identified with. Plus, I wasn’t looking for an absolute commitment to some kind of pristine past or a finished product. I wanted to step into a line of fascinating people and progress it in new ways from my own point in history.
The “emergent” label became a part of my vernacular thanks to a book by Brian McLaren called, “A Generous Orthodoxy”. I had made my way into the “emergent” theological conversation prior to that via theologian Stan Grenz. In 2004 I attended the Nashville emergent gathering that was piggy-backed onto the National Pastor’s Conference put on by Zondervan. For the first time since seminary, I felt at home. It was the first time I felt like I had a people.
A video adventure & the discovery or narrative parallels…
Last week we interviewed several amazing people for what will become a DVD for the Alliance Of Baptist Convocation. It will also go out to all AOB Churches. When we asked for the person’s personal Alliance story, every interviewee spoke of creating or discovering a home place. What’s more, each interview spoke of a journey that shares many of the same elements found in the “Emergent” movement.
Here’s what I mean.
What I discovered from those who began the Alliance goes like this in broad narrative form:
They never felt a part of the convention (SBC). They didn’t fit completely with moderates or conservatives. They were highly conscious of social justice concerns and troubled by the churches lack of concern. They were too outspoken on gender and sexuality concerns. They were all over the theological map — or off of it — as it had been drawn by denominational leadership. They wanted to preserve freedom and the space to question. They were looking for a way to connect with others like them in order to have a sense of home and collective purpose. They believed there was another way besides the two rivaling Baptist factions. They didn’t want to fight or win, they just wanted to be church together.
What I know from those who began the Emergent conversation goes like this in broad narrative form:
They were young evangelical leaders who felt awkward in their vocational skins. They were troubled by the direction of “Church Growth” and its lack of depth. They also didn’t share the culture-war values of other evangelical elders. They were troubled by the lack of concern for social justice issues among evangelicals. They grew more marginalized from evangelical circles as they became more outspoken. They were all over the theological map — or off of it — according to how it was drawn by evangelicals. They wanted room for generative friendships and conversations about Jesus, faith, church, and life. They were looking for a way to connect with others in order to find a home and partnership in missional community. They were not interested in the fight between liberal and conservative Protestant theology because both are suspect. They were not interested in winning, they just wanted to be the kingdom right here, right now.
Of course these are two reductionist story-lines that reflect my personal bias. To include all the nuances would take volumes and wouldn’t make my point as succinctly as I would like. These are certainly not the same stories unfolding in different times with different language. They are unique and varied. However, they share more than enough to be considered “of the same lineage.” Specifically, of the same lineage as the spirit of reform that has lived as remnant within the entire history of Christianity.
Some historical perspective…
In her new book, “A People’s History of Christianity,” Diana Butler Bass takes a look at church History from the ground up. In it, she draws a helpful distinction between what she calls “Big-C” Christianity, and “Great Commandment” Christianity. “Big-C” being the narrative of Christian history that moves from Christ to Constantine, to Crusades, to Calvin, to Christian America. A narrative largely defined by power, success, and victory. A narrative based on the great commission. “Great Command” Christianity being the rarely told story of those who were often silenced by the Big-C story. The story of those who have loved God and neighbor and have often suffered for it. Listen to more here.
My point…finally!
As I listened to the Alliance story being told by those who helped start it, and as I take stock of my own journey as an emerging Baptist, I can trace a lineage through both that fits into what Diana Butler Bass calls “Great Command” Christianity. Whether we call it “emergent,” “progressive,” or “postmodern,” much of what we are pressing into is a heritage of scandalous love. A love that manifests itself in radical hospitality, prophetic speaking to power, and active social engagement. As long as these are alive and well, the church has a future, and the kingdom of God will be present in our time.
Recent Comments