Denominations: God's Hilarious Joke, Part One

I was asked to write a post about "getting along with your denomination", and this is what came out. I'm presenting it in three parts, because it's too long for one post. This is part one.

I've often joked that the only reason I'm a part of a denomination is because God pulled an evil joke on me.

Most of my ministry experience was in the context of non-denominational churches. Most of my spiritual growth, development as a pastor and a leader, and maturity into adulthood happened at non-denominational churches. Yet in 2010, God saw fit to bring me into the Christian Reformed Church in North America (CRCNA) denomination and help plant a church.

I lead with that intro only to make my perspective clear: I am somewhat of a denominational outsider. I'd like to say that, before coming to Restore, I was functionally indifferent towards the idea of denominations. That's probably not true.

Joining a denomination from the outside meant that I brought along with me some preconceived ideas of what it meant to be a part of a denomination, and most of those ideas were negative. Even though I had grown up in a CRCNA church and spent some time ministering in a PCA church immediately after college, I never imagined that it would be part of my long-term ministry. And inasmuch as those experiences certainly shaped my perspective and those ideas I had about denominationalism, the reality was that at root of my negative perceptions was a pride issue: in the end, I thought I knew how to do church better than they did. My church didn't need a denomination to be healthy.

Since then, God has done some work on my heart. Thankfully the Gospel message is more than a once-and-you're-done affair; It's also a daily reminder that despite my best efforts, I need Jesus today more than yesterday (and tomorrow more than today).

I'm still not in love with denominationalism (if God wants that, he has a lot more work to do!) but I have come to see the value of working with a denomination and the depth of faith and accountability and goodness that it offers. It has provided a sense of community and connectedness that I didn't experience in the same way being in the non-denominational context; it's also provided a lot more frustration! Yet, the good has outweighed the bad, and it's in that spirit that I share what I've learned.

Connected to the Cloud

Being connected to the cloud means something different in the 21st century than it did for the writer of Hebrews. There is something powerful about our connectedness to the "great cloud of witnesses" who have come before us, defending and living out the same Christian faith we profess in cultures and centuries very different from ours. 

To be fair, all Christians are connected to the same cloud, regardless of denominational affiliation. But there is something about a denominational connection that ties you in to a very specific historical stream of the Christian faith.

Denominational history gives us a historical framework for understanding how, exactly, the Gospel was passed down, and furthermore, it moves the needle from the generic "we" to the much more personal "me". In other words, this is how the Gospel was handed down to me from a particular cloud of witnesses.

I'm reminded when I read the Belgic Confession that it's author, Guido De Bres, was willing to undergo intense persecution and ultimately martyrdom to fight for the truth and clarity of the Gospel. The Reformed church was being persecuted by the Roman Catholic State/Church system; the Reformed church desired to articulate that what they believed was nothing more than historical, biblical Christianity. The Confession was put together with that end in mind, and it gave a solidarity to the reformed church in the face of their ongoing suffering. 

Being a part of a denomination with it's historical roots reminds me that I have a close and special connection to Guido De Bres. In the historical scope of Christianity, De Bres and I stand together. We are not just believers in common, we are reformed believers in common, standing in the same stream together.

The different catechisms and confessions that every denomination holds each tell a story about our forebears and what they had to endure to make sure that the Scripture and the Gospel were handed down from generation to generation with clarity. I am reminded that I stand in line with those faithful saints, handing down the same Gospel to a new flock in a new era, so that it can be preserved with clarity for our children's children, and beyond.

Stay tuned. Part two to come tomorrow.

The Last Act of Leadership at Mars Hill

“If something happens to me, these all become autonomous churches and lead pastors become primary teaching pastors. So the whole thing is built for me to back out.”

— Mark Driscoll

Several years ago I watched a recorded conversation between Mark Dever, James MacDonald, and Mark Driscoll in which Mark Dever asked Mark Driscoll what the plan was if he were to ever leave the church that he founded, Mars Hill. (I think the question may have been "what happens when you die?") The question was about leadership succession; not so much what would they do if Mark got hit by a bus, but what Mark would do when he was getting ready to retire.

His response was that, when he left, all of the campuses of Mars Hill would become independent, autonomous congregations. He was confident that they had appropriate leadership at each campus who could carry the mantle, even if he were to go away.

One of the questions I've often considered in pondering the multi-site church movement is what happens when the lead preacher moves on. As far as I know, we're still in the "first generation" of Pastor's of video based multi-sites. These multi-sites have been built on the recognition that they have a particularly gifted preacher, and that it makes more sense for the mission of the church to attempt to replicate the preacher via video. In some cases, there is more to it, but there is never less. I haven't heard of any video-based multi-site churches with a boring preacher.

To be clear, I don't necessarily think there is anything wrong with that. We must be willing to admit, though, that the risk of a personality cult is extremely high. Without careful succession plans, you are either setting the church up for disaster or you are setting the next preacher up for disaster, and probably both.

Mark's answer to the question struck me because of it's honesty. It was a tacit suggestion that no one else could do what he does. No one could be the "next Mark Driscoll". No one could fill Mark Driscoll's pulpit. No one could carry on the banner, even in the best of circumstances, when he presumably had time and opportunity to train a replacement as he approached retirement. Of course, that's precisely the reason that the question of what you do when the lead guy leaves looms so large.

The truth is that all churches, large or small, go through a similar difficult transition when a long-term, loved, and gifted pastor retires or leaves. I know a church who had a well-known, well-spoken pastor for years, and even though he retired nearly two decades ago, and they are on their second pastor since then, he is still revered as the one who was there during the golden years. The church has been shrinking ever since he left. The point is, it's not just large churches who have a difficult–if not impossible–time replacing the leader. The difference is in the magnitude of the problem.

The larger a church gets, particularly when it gets large under a single leader, the harder it's going to be to find someone with the ability and the skill set to "take over". And again, that's in the best of circumstances. Let alone when someone leaves suddenly.

Unfortunately for Driscoll, he was hit by the proverbial bus in the form of endless allegations and a little bit of his own unraveling. Regardless of how much of it was justified (and who are any of us to say, unless we were there?), the fact remains that by the time things were said and done he felt like the best thing to do was to walk away. So he did.

Fortunately for Driscoll, he had put a contingency plan in place at Mars Hill, and it looks like they pulled the rip chord on it. The last major act of leadership at the church (barring building sales, etc.) is that all of the campuses have an opportunity to become independent, autonomous congregations. Because no one can do what Mark did, and maybe no one should even try.

The Fallacy of a Dying Church

Here is some language that we should stop using: "dying church".

Let's get this straight: the church of Jesus Christ is always alive. Let's not lose focus on what the church is. It is the gathered body of people made alive through faith in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is a work that is compelled by and empowered by God through his Holy Spirit. The very definition of the church cannot be extricated from life itself; if it is, you no longer have the church.

So why do we call churches that are in decline "dying churches"? It stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of the church. Our problem is that we too closely associate the church of Jesus Christ with our local church, assuming that the two are one-and-the-same. While the church-local is built on and a part of the universal church of Jesus Christ, it nevertheless contains a wide variety of human elements, both cultural and systemic. Life, for those portions, is no guarantee. In fact, if there is a guarantee, it is that at some point in the future, both our systems and our cultural expression will become irrelevant, and thus, highly susceptible to collapse.

The first step is to make the distinction between those elements of the church that are "man-made" in their origin, and those that are "divine" in their origin. Only when we do that will we become comfortable with the changes that are necessary in the human realm, while holding fast to the life-giving elements of the church, which is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

What I've seen is that many churches, in an effort to simply survive, will sacrifice the Gospel or the advance of the Gospel for the sake of the local church. While they may desire to grow and be "healthy", it is only trumped by their desire to make sure things can continue to be done the way they've always been done. Change is scary; risk is scarier. If we change, we risk making a mistake that will ultimately destroy "everything we've created" (see the problem?); if we don't change, not only do we remain comfortable but we mitigate the risk. If there is any risk, it's far enough down the road that we're not worried about it.

Incidentally, this is why most organizations that ultimately close their doors are on the path to closure long before they think they are. Organizations grow, stabilize, and then plateau. It's in that plateau period where the choice is often made to remain in a state of comfort and not "rock the boat"; unfortunately, that's usually the first step towards a long, slow, steady decline that won't be evident until the gentle slope has turned into a cliff and there is almost no turning back.

The good news for the church is that we aren't, or shouldn't be, afraid of organizational collapse. We're not selling a product that needs to be revamped, lest we lose our lifeline. We're preaching an unchanging Gospel that is our lifeline. When we wrap our heads around that, and realize that the lifeblood of the church goes on and on and on and grows and grows and grows no matter what happens to our little expression of the church, we become much more open to letting go of the human elements of the local church and living in the comfort and grace of the Gospel.

The church is not dead, she is alive! That's the confidence we have in the Gospel. And that's the message we need to proclaim.

Building Relationships

I don't like fads. Most of the time, that means I was trying to be cool in sort of an uncool way, like when I didn't like the Dave Matthews Band in college because everyone else did. I didn't get the appeal. They were good and all, it's just that everyone else was obsessed so I figured it'd be more cool to be uncool. Lame. Whatever, I was in college. It was something to do.

I still don't like fads, but now it has more to do with fads in the Christian community and in church leadership and systems in particular. My rationale is different now than it used to be. It has nothing to do with being cool or uncool. It has more to do with missing the point.

In the mid-90's (and probably earlier but that's when I became aware of it) there was a push in the local church towards small groups. These small groups had all sorts of positive functions to them and they were supposed to supplement whatever was happening on Sunday morning in the church. They were "discipleship" focused. That was great. It was necessary. Something was missing, and "Small Groups" were the way we were going to address it.

Unfortunately, "small group" became equated with "bible study" and as a result it also became something that you could do without. Or at least, you could do it for a finite period of time. So you'd be a part of a small group for a year, maybe two years, and it would be great, but then you'd get away from it and the lasting impact was somewhat minimal.

Nowadays the term is "missional". We've discovered that–shockingly–most of us are terrible when it comes to openly sharing our faith or doing anything to advance the kingdom of God in deed. We might be aware that Jesus loves us; we just aren't really sure he loves anyone else. Or, we have faith, it just doesn't compel us to do anything. (That pesky book of James might cause us to question said faith, but I digress.) The corrective was to be missional, and form communities around the idea of being missional. That's great! But, I think it still it misses the point.

There's nothing wrong with "discipleship" and forming groups around the idea that we need help growing in our relationship with Jesus; "being sanctified". There's also nothing wrong with the idea that we need some help being missionaries and it's going to be easier if we have other people to do it with. Ultimately, though, I think that both discipleship and mission are bi-products of something else: Relationships.

We stink at growing in Christ because we stink at relationships. We have the resources we need, and we may even have the desire. But growth won't happen until we're in deep, meaningful, relationships with other believers. We experience Christ's love for us when we receive it from other believers; we experience what it means to love when we pour out that love on others. I think that the only safe place to grow in our relationship with Christ is in relationships with people where growth in Christ isn't necessary. They are going to love us anyway. Not surprisingly, that is the message of the Gospel.

The same thing goes for our mission. The more we fall in love with Jesus, the more that we will have a desire to spread the good news of His kingdom on earth, both in word and in deed.

That doesn't mean that we aren't intentional about some of the things we want to see happening in the context of those relationships. I just think we need to keep the most important thing the most important thing. We, our people, our church, need to be in deep, meaningful, and growing Christian relationships. Out of that will flow growth. Out of that will flow mission.

But it starts with relationships.