Don Friesen
There is an old folk song--at least a century old--entitled "The St. James Infirmary Blues," beginning with the line:
I'd sing a few bars of it, only I haven't smoked enough cigarettes or drank sufficient bourbon to make it sound authentic. It's a rather depressing song about love and death, but then it is a blues song, set to a minor key.
Unless you have an ear for the blues or a stomach for depression, you may wish to walk past Old Joe's Bar Room and continue on down the street to St. James Christian Church, near the intersection of Hebrews and 1 Peter. The mood there is decidedly more upbeat! This is a congregation with a purposeful stride! This is a congregation with direction! This is a congregation that's growing and going places! This congregation is so together that they've even got their ushers trained--something we've never been able to accomplish--they've got their ushers trained so that when those with fashionable apparel and expensive jewellery come into the church, they're quickly given a bulletin; they're shown where the washrooms are; and they're shown to seats near the front, where they can hear! And these ushers are so smooth that when visitors with costume jewelry--or no jewelry at all--come into the foyer, they're encouraged to pick up their own bulletin; they're shown where the outdoor porta-potty is; and they're allowed to find the sanctuary and their seats, on their own.
The St. James Christian Church has a vision for success and its minister, the Very Reverend Preferential, is boldly leading the church "into the new millennium" and down a lot of other platitudinal avenues. This is a church with vision and purpose, although the writer of the New Testament book of James feels it's a rather dubious purpose. The writer of James is the Dilbert of the first century, and he as much as says that if you can't buy into this prosperity gospel you'll feel much more comfortable at Old Joe's Bar Room than you will at St. James Christian Church!
Wish-Dreams and the Gospel
What Dilbert is doing for corporate culture, James did centuries ago for the Church, though it hasn't stopped the Church from running after every latest fad in an effort to re-invent itself. Some say that we have to do this; intentional congregational visioning is critical to the life of the church. We need to discover our core values, say some. Others say that the vision itself is not important; it's the process of arriving at a vision. If the process isn't important, why bother with a process in order to arrive at an unnecessary vision?
Not only do many congregations buy into this stuff, the stuff they buy is frightfully expensive. One pastor (Don Lincoln) reports, "We completed the first stage of a vision process 12 months ago. The first stage took 18 months, led by a Vision Team of nine. We are now in the second stage--‘living into it'." He contends that "visioning, planning and determining mission directions are essential exercises." "We intend to be a ‘mission-driven' church, not ‘staff-driven,' he says, though it strikes me that it's now a consultant-driven church! There's a whole industry out there designed to make congregational life complicated beyond measure, when all you've really got to do is train your ushers to weed out the rich from the poor!
A corporate model of the Church is fine if you want your church to be like Pringle's or Microsoft, though someone has pointed out that what churches are doing now in the area of vision, mission and strategic planning is what corporations were doing ten years ago! They've moved on. In fact, corporations that genuflected before business gurus in the 1980s--as profiled by then prominent business writer Tom Peters--had by the mid-90s fallen back to the rear of the corporate pack. Another person (Arthur E. Gans) has dismissed this whole movement as a mis-guided adaptation of business administration ideas of even thirty to forty years ago, which, in turn, were adopted from World War II military thinking!
German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer warned us not to confuse what he called our "wish dream" for the church with the vision that is already given us from God. In some congregations the congregational vision is simply the pastor's wish-dream for what she or he would like the church to be and become. In other settings it is the product of the collective wish-dream of those people in the congregation who have sufficient influence or persuasive ability for the congregation to adopt their wish-dream. (Fred Kane) Perhaps many of the nicest-sounding vision or mission statements reflect more how people in a congregation wish to be perceived by others than what they actually do! Bonhoeffer suggested that we should all pray that our "wish dream" be shattered! Our vision for the church should not become so personal, with so much of ourselves and our wishes wrapped up in it, that we begin to resemble the self-obsessed St. James Christian Church!
I don't want to be a curmudgeon about this, but this whole need to fine-tune the church almost drives one to embrace chaos! ... Or ... to simply continue what we've been doing here at Ottawa Mennonite Church, remaining nimble enough that we can respond to shifting needs and changes around us with genuine humanity instead of consulting the current manual.
Heirs of an Impractical Purpose ...
I confess that I have my own biases and struggles with this "vision thing," and they may very well get in the way of defining our congregational purpose. I certainly feel woefully inadequate when people ask me about my personal vision and goals. The question always leaves me feeling bereft of direction and purpose. Mostly I just do what I can to add to the chaos around here and make my own humble contribution to the unwieldy nature of being a living organism!
There is no doubt that vision and purpose are important in the life of a community "Where there is no vision," says a well-worn biblical proverb (Proverbs 29:18), "the people perish." Although I also like the more Dilbert-like slogan, "Where there is no debt, there is no vision." If that's true, we have more than enough vision for some time to come!
This whole discussion, of course, begs the question of the nature and purpose of the Church. "What is the primary purpose or task of the church?" Well, there is no shortage of relevant biblical visions, and perhaps we should give those a good try before manufacturing some of our own. We could do worse than using some of the key summary statements in the Bible, like the one in Micah having to do with doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God. Or, how about the two commands Jesus left with us: "Love God" and "Love your neighbours," about which all else in the Scriptures could be easily considered commentary!
How about the classic goats-and-sheep passage in the Gospel of Matthew (25:31-46), where honouring Jesus has to do with feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, and visiting the sick and imprisoned? A passage that our founder, Menno Simons, took so seriously that he labelled it evidence of true evangelical faith.
How about building our purpose around Jesus' inaugural speech in Nazareth? A speech borrowing heavily from Isaiah about bringing "good news to the poor," proclaiming "release to the captives," "recovery of sight to the blind," and setting "at liberty those who are oppressed...." (Luke 4:18, a composite of various translations)
There's all kinds of compelling visions in the Bible. I even like the one where Jesus sent out seventy volunteers to help with his mission (Luke 10), and when they returned and reported, breathlessly, "Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!" (10:17) And Jesus, seeming to match their enthusiasm, replied, "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven." (Luke 10:18, RSV) If all that we did as a congregation was geared to seeing Satan take a nose-dive into oblivion, even that would be like, a way coolvision!!
How about building our vision and purpose around Saint Paul's appeal to the mind evident in Jesus, who "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness, (who) ....humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death--even death on a cross." (Philippians 2:7-8)
Or, how about just honouring Jesus and becoming like him? We are told in our gospel reading (Mark 7:31-37) that when Jesus healed the deaf and tongue-tied man, what with spittle and all, that people were "astounded beyond measure!" (Mark 7:37)
We seem to have a tendency to cut God and biblical visions down to manageable size because we deem them unworkable or impractical. We prefer practicality to astonishment! Mennonites have been told for centuries that Jesus' injunction to love our enemies is impractical, but that hasn't stopped us from holding onto Jesus' compelling vision of peace. And the world's attempts to design its global life around violence only gives us added encouragement to pursue this alternate dream.
I looked up the definition of the word, "impractical," and discovered that one of the synonyms for impractical is "visionary!" Goodness, if deeming all visions impractical had stopped visionaries in their tracks, we'd still be killing each other with clubs instead of guided missiles. (Wait a minute, maybe that would be a good thing! It would slow down the killing.)
We like to cut God and biblical visions down to manageable size, but God resists such attempts, as do all God-inspired visions. The St. James Christian Church at the corner of Hebrews and 1 Peter thought they had a very practical approach to congregational life. After all, people with fashionable clothes and jewellery are people of wealth, and you need money to pay for those well-trained ushers! Maybe the elders of the St. James Church had read some of the literature about church management techniques and preferred the "homogeneous unit" theory to Saint Paul's encouragement to be all things to all people. After all, the latter is confusing and unworkable, as experienced by one congregation that prayed fervently for the conversion of sinners but was somewhat embarrassed when a particularly notorious sinner applied for church membership! It prompted one of the elders to pray, "O God, forgive us, when praying for the conversion of sinners, for not telling Thee what kind of sinner we had in mind."
If the elders of the St. James Church thought their congregation might do better by striving for a "niche market," Saint James was having none of it. He was aghast! "My brothers and sisters," he said, "do you with your acts of favouritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ?" (James 2:1) "Have you ...made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?" (2:4) "Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonoured the poor. ... You do well if you ...fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.' But if you show partiality, you commit sin.... What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? ... faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead." (2:5-6, 8-9, 14, 17)
... HEIRS OF A DEFIANTLY HOPEFUL PURPOSE ...
The Church has a long confessional heritage with a deep sense of compassion and justice rooted securely in biblical theology. To be sure, the Church's record in this regard is a mixed one, ranging from courageous advocacy of compassion and justice--often at the cost of considerable sacrifice--to narrow self-interest and even collaboration with evil regimes. But we are heirs of a biblical heritage that stubbornly resists embracing ideas merely on the basis of their novelty, or on the basis of tradition alone. There is also something so inherently unwieldy about the Gospel that it refuses to be tamed by constructs designed for other human institutions.
I just finished a novel which quoted a poem by nineteenth-century poet Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-61), a poem with the wonderful title, "Say Not the Struggle Naught Availeth". Listen to a few lines:
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
And not by eastern windows only,
(Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900, 1919)
The novel I was reading described this poem as "defiantly optimistic". I like that phrase, though I might prefer "defiantly hopeful," since there are some notable gaps in my optimism. In fact, sometimes I'm pathetically pessimistic; where some people see a glass half-full of water, I not only see it half-empty, I tend to notice a lot of smudges along the rim of the glass.
There are many reasons to be pessimistic, but there is indeed a defiance to Christian hope that is inspiring! As Saint Paul expresses it, we may be "afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed...." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)
Our reading from Isaiah certainly qualifies as defiantly hopeful. Isaiah evokes for us a picture of deathly drought and of a humanity crushed, oppressed, disabled, filled with despair, and sapped of vitality. It is this deathly context that makes Isaiah's words of hope so vivid, for he believes that into any context, however deathly, God can move in and give life to it. Shared in this desolate context, Isaiah lays before his people the promise that God "...will come and save you." ... the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; ...the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy." (Isaiah 35: 4-6)
Now, I must say, after a summer in which I lost sight in one eye; my hearing deteriorated even further; I experienced sciatica in my leg, causing me to limp, or at least walk gingerly; and I had oral surgery, not to mention a nose job, that I find Isaiah's vision rather incredible! In the face of it--which is where most of my summer illnesses occurred--I am incredulous! The biblical vision seems to be moving in one direction, while I continue my relentless slide in the opposite direction. Now, when I voiced some doubts about how my physical deterioration might affect my role at OMC, Bill J. offered me solace by telling me that even blind, deaf and dumb, he still preferred me to anyone else! Bill could be described as defiantly loyal!
There is something so stubbornly hopeful about biblical hope that little can break its spirit. Isaiah continues, "For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water...." (Isaiah 35:6-7) Therefore, says Isaiah, we have reason to "be strong" and "not (to) fear!" (35:4)
... AND SO WE GATHER IN EXPECTATION
We may be heirs of an apparently impractical purpose, but it is a hopeful purpose--a defiantly hopeful purpose--and so we gather expectantly. Our expectation arises, in part, out of our need. Apparently it was customary in ancient Greece for peddlers who walked the streets with their wares to cry out, "What do you lack?" The idea was to let people know they were in the vicinity and to arouse people's curiosity such that they emerged from their houses to see what the peddler was selling, hoping it was something they needed.
We gather as Christians, in part, because we are aware of a need that is not satisfied by our many other pursuits. We have a need to worship--to orient our lives in relation to the holy mystery at the heart of all creation. We gather, expectant that God can fulfill our needs--needs that may be physical but are more often than not deep needs of the heart and mind and soul. The Gospel holds that these needs are universal, and that to make distinctions among ourselves is to neglect the needs of some. The ministry of hospitality extends to all.
A woman (April McClure) active in her congregation tells of a nine-yeaar-old boy who came to her church. His name was Brandon and she says that the minute he appeared in her Wednesday Bible study she had him branded a troublemaker. Within 30 seconds of entering the room, he had pulled a chair out from under a girl, punched the only other boy in the class in the arm, and used a four-letter word rarely heard in that church. Brandon's family history was not a pretty one; his father was in jail for the third time; he had been abused by his mother, who was no longer allowed to see him, and so he was living with his grandmother. She worked afternoons and evenings, and the woman who provided childcare for him while the grandmother worked was not available until 6 p.m. The principal of Brandon's grade school had heard that the Bible study lasted until 7:30, and so, for at least one night a week, Brandon would not be on his own for three hours.
It wasn't an easy thing having Brandon in class. He was constantly changing the subject to talk about things that he had heard about girls from his 20-year-old uncle; he told stories he had heard about his father in jail; he was constantly bothering others in the class. The teacher sat Brandon right next to her and let him help with passing out papers when he behaved himself. She helped him try to control his anger, but sometimes he just lost it, and then he would call other people names and insult them, the fracas ending with him and at least one other child crying. Even during recreational times, Brandon acted up, hitting and pinching people. During music, he goofed around and carried on conversations; during meal time, he was an absolute terror--throwing food, spitting at people, and making the little kids cry. His teacher and the other leaders didn't know what to do. They tried talking to him; they called his grandmother; they asked for volunteers to accompany him at all times; they tried to explain "church" behaviour to him. Secretly they hoped that his grandmother would take him to another babysitter or that by some miracle he would not appear again the next Wednesday. The other kids missed an occasional Wednesday but Brandon was there every single Wednesday. After about seven months of this, says the teacher, Brandon "started giving me a hug when he left for the evening with his babysitter. One day, I saw him in the grocery store, and he ran up to me, and pulled me over to meet his grandmother who was one of the cashiers." The teacher told the minister about it and she reported that the same thing had happened to her. Another woman who was his substitute teacher at school reported that Brandon had introduced her to the class on the day she subbed saying, ‘Mrs. Leman goes to my church with me on Wednesday nights.'"
One day toward the end of the school year, the Bible study class was discussing hospitality and the teacher asked the kids to think about the place where they felt most secure, most at home. Some said their bedrooms, or some other place in their homes. One kid mentioned the playroom at his grandpa's house. When it came to Brandon, he said, "Man, I've lived in a million places." They all laughed and waited for him to go on. He asked, "You mean the place where we feel happy and safe?" The teacher said yes. "Oh," he said matter-of-factly, "That's right here in my church." Brandon had found a home.
The Scriptures are relentless in warning believers not to show partiality--not to make distinctions (James 2:4; Acts 11:12; 15:9) among human beings. "There is no distinction," says Romans (3:22-23), "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." The Scriptures, however, are also relentlessly hopeful that one day we will all "...be complete, equipped for every good work." (2 Timothy 3:17, RSV) We share the New Testament hope that one day we may be "mature and complete, lacking in nothing" (James 1:4). We share the New Testament's confidence that "...the one who began a good work among (us) will bring it to completion...." (Philippians 1:6) God will work His purpose out.
"I went down to old Joe's bar room, on the corner by the square...."
Say not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain ...
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.