the Good Question

A reader, Ron, who commented on "The Crowded Middle" at SimpleChurch.com, brought up an important issue:

I think I know where you're going with this but I'm not sure what a "good man" is seeing as how the Lord has pointed out that there is no "good" in men.

After reviewing the rest of his comments (which were very good, check them out), I decided I had better clarify.

What follows is the substance of my response: essentially a commentary on the article. It addresses the issue Ron raised and rewords my thoughts on "The Crowded Middle."

Labels: culture, good and evil, morality, radical change

Again—and for the final time in this series—let’s ask ourselves, "What observations may we make, from the New Testament and church history, about the operation of churches in the first one-hundred-or-so years of the existence of the institution of the local church?" and "How might persecution alter the way our churches operate or the way we perceive what things are important?"

In light of the fact that the world had very few copies of the Scriptures, and that the first printing press was yet to be invented for another several hundreds of years, what teaching methods were employed by the pioneering Christians of the first century? There was no curriculum. Very few people in the world owned a personal copy of any substantial portion of the Bible. How much emphasis was placed upon Scripture reading, repetition, meditation, and memorization? What might this teach us about the value of community in Bible reading and discussion?

How geared were church meetings toward lost people? How sensitive were church meetings, ministries, and programs toward potential church members? In cases of persecution, church meetings were most certainly not public knowledge. So, in what ways did they assimilate new members?

Were public offerings made, or were the regular offerings secretly received? Did they take Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 6 to apply to the local church?

How frequently did they practice the Lord’s Supper? Did it coincided with the Passover? Was it a weekly event? Was it scheduled, or was it observed as needed?

How did they conduct church business? Do we have Scripture to prove that they always voted before making decisions? If so, how were children’s opinions weighed against those of adults? Did they set aside a particular meeting for the purpose of handling business? Rather, did they tackle each item of business as it presented itself? Were certain sorts of business left to the wisdom of the overseers, deacons, and other leaders? If a particular church were organized in a “house-to-house” manner, how might their business be performed?

How much commitment was expected of members? How significant of a lifestyle change was expected of new Christians uniting with a church?

When “the church” was mentioned, did their minds automatically picture a building or a programmed-service? Did people come as they might come to an entertainment hall?

Did they ever have an “altar call”? Did they have an “altar” at all? Did they play music during the invitation? We must always respond to God’s Word in some manner, but how were these responses manifested?

Did they “dedicate” babies? Did they have a sort of “chapel church”? Were young children baptized?

Did they just baptize people because they wanted more church members? Or, was church membership seen as a benefit of being baptized and not its purpose? Was baptism itself considered solely to be a means to an end, and not also an end in itself? Was their view that the only ultimate purpose for church membership is to help the local church fulfill Great Commission of Christ?

As we compare our way of doing things with what we know of theirs, then we find that some of our practices are ill-founded—perhaps even ridiculous—, and that others are simply left to our discretion and, within reason, dependent on culture and circumstance, it makes no difference how we do them. Simply put, there are things to which we must hold, but there are also many things over which we have great freedom. Some hills are worth dieing on, and some are only worth looking at as we pass them. We hold some things in an open hand and some things in a closed hand.

I think this is a healthy exercise. It helps us to reassess our priorities. It helps us to remember what is strictly biblical, what is unbiblical, and what is neither. It helps to stretch our minds beyond the confines of our cultures, traditions, and preconceptions. It helps to prevent us from becoming legalistic cults or libertine social clubs. I hope you have found the above questions and observations interesting. There are many other questions which could be asked, and, of course, many other observations made, but these should stimulate your mind to think “outside the box,” or, rather, “outside our box.”

I will leave it to you to think about these things more deeply.

Labels: church, churchplanting, culture, first-century thinking

Now that we’ve laid the groundwork in Part 1, let’s really dig into the application of our principle of first-century thinking. What observations may we make, from the New Testament and church history, about the operation of churches in the first one-hundred-or-so years of the existence of the institution of the local church? And how might persecution alter the way our churches operate or the way we perceive what things are important? Those are good questions. Let’s jump right in and see what answers they provoke.

In the Bible, God never really commands His churches when or how frequent their meeting times should be. While many in America would be quick to shake a finger at any church deciding to omit a Sunday-night service, we have no indication that the early Christian churches met for two different meetings on the same day. For that matter, Sunday was no day off for the people of the Greek world, and many of the Christians probably met either in the early morning hours before work or the evening hours after a day’s work. They knew that the Sabbath is fulfilled by resting in Christ (Hebrews 4). On the legal Sabbath, many would go to a synagogue and attempt to teach the Gospel of Christ, and they chose instead to meet together on the next day of the week, but we are not even restrained to coming together corporately on that day. Moreover, it is entirely possible that some of them met every single day, making our three-service tradition seem awful paltry.

The Bible never designates church roles other than “overseer” (today called “pastor”) and “servant” (“deacon”). We have the freedom to appoint a brother or sister to a particular role (such as ministry- or program-coordinator or teacher). It also seems that some first-century churches had several pastors. And there might not have been one man who led over them. If a church is in unity, with the leadership cooperating and led by the Spirit, and the church as-a-whole communicating and likeminded, then Jesus is at liberty to head His church. Can a church be a church without one man at the lead? Sure it can. In many cases, it might be wiser to have one “lead” pastor, but still we have freedom in this area, too.

Here is another thing: Did the New Testament churches ever send their pastors packing? Sure, in certain cases the churches were responsible to practice discipline, but did they play “pastoral chairs”—pastor swapping? I’m not sure that the way we do it is necessarily wrong, but is it really all that healthy as a norm? Shouldn’t indigenous leadership be the goal? Isn’t that what we require of our foreign missionaries, to establish indigenous leadership on the field? When a man is given a title, it is not the same thing as being given leadership. He earns leadership over an extended period of time. He grows into the title. Why don’t we focus on raising up men who will have already earned leadership in the local congregation by the time they are given the title, so that they don’t have to spend the first two years of their ministry in the local church trying desperately to earn the privilege to lead?

Did all of those ancient churches meet in full membership for each meeting? Or did they sometimes meet “from house to house”—a practice we call a “cell-group” or “multi-site” model today? If the necessary meeting space were not available (as the case might be for a large church under persecution), could a church operate without ever meeting in full quorum? There are ways for the church to still operate as a whole, govern itself as a whole, and provide for participation with the whole, without meeting in a single space as a whole.

For first-century churches, how were their meetings arranged? What was the content like? How did speakers address certain issues? How much of the meeting was devoted to prayer? How much was devoted to testimony? Was it a firm rule to sing during every meeting? Did people get up and sing “specials?” Did they have the same speaker for every meeting? Did they have Sunday School? Did they have any sort of class format? For that matter, were they ever separated by age group? If they had separate classes, how were teachers assigned? How centralized was the teaching? Did all teachers teach on the same subjects? Who chose what was taught? Was there just one sermon or lesson given during a meeting? How long were these meetings? How structured was the time they spent together? Were the meetings programmatically scheduled? How dynamic were the meetings? Where the meetings the same every single time. How interactive might their meetings have been? How much was the congregation treated as a passive audience?

Think about these things. Apply first-century thinking to your ministry and understanding of the Scriptures. Next time, I'll leave you with the third and final installment of First-Century Thinking. Until then, God bless.

Labels: church, churchplanting, culture, first-century thinking

When I hear the term "that old-time religion," I don't think of the way things were fifty years ago. I don't think of the two churches I grew up in—the city church with the huge pipe organ or the nearly two-century-old country church with the big picture of Jesus and Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb painted on the wall behind the pulpit. I do not think of the churches as they were when Billy Sunday preached his great crusades, or even of the days of the circuit preachers, of Edwards, and of Spurgeon. No. I think of the first century. I think of pure Christianity, before heresy and hypocrisy overcame Christ's fledgling churches. I think of simplicity—not that life was simple, just that they didn't have hundreds of years of tradition, pretense, and lethargy to keep them from their Commission (Matthew 28:18-20). Once they understood that this thing—the church—was totally different from the religious systems to which they were accustomed, they were freed to shape their churches within the loose framework given in Scripture and progress in their purpose.

By "loose framework," I do not mean to say that there aren't rules. There are. That's why I used the word "framework." We have a framework for the operation of our churches. But it's not so meticulous that there is no room to adapt to changes in circumstance. It's a framework, but it's loose. Let me give you an initial example of what I mean by "loose," before we get into this further: the Bible is clear that a church must regularly meet together, but it never requires Christ's churches to meet in buildings (let alone own property). In the first century, Jesus personally led His church, which often met outdoors. In later times, church history tells us that some churches met in systems of cave-tombs, known as "catacombs," under Roman cities. If buildings are not even required for churches, then it follows that there must be no prerequisite architecture, decoration, ornamentation, or furnishing that is saddled upon the churches by the Lord Jesus Christ. Churches may meet in buildings, or they may not. If they choose to meet indoors, they may meet in rented facilities, living rooms, restaurant lounges, prison camps, or underground sewers. They may use pews, collapsible chairs, cots, bean bags, pillows, sofas, stools, or the floor—or they may choose to stand the whole time. They may choose to use a sign to identify to the public their meeting location, or they may not—this would certainly not be a good idea during times of serious persecution and martyrdom. They may choose to build a steeple on the peak of the roof of a building they own, or they may choose to use all available roof space for energy-collecting solar panels to save on their electric bill. There are a great many things that God simply leaves to our discretion, as guided by His wisdom. I often think of the first-century churches when I seek an answer concerning how a church should operate today. There is tremendous value in this exercise—something I call, "first-century thinking." Apart from the example given above, what other observations may we make, from the New Testament and church history, about the operation of churches in the first one-hundred-or-so years of the existence of the institution of the local church? How might persecution alter the way our churches operate or the way we perceive what things are important? If the claw of persecution were to clamp down upon your church tomorrow (as it did in the first century), how would things have to change, in order for your church to not only survive, but to continue pressing on in the Great Commission work?

I'll leave these three questions to you to ponder for a time. Give me your thoughts, if you wish, and look forward to "First-Century Thinking (part 2)."

Labels: church, churchplanting, culture, first-century thinking

My question concerning the definition of "postmodernism" is simply this: Is this discussion about the emergence of a new Western culture, or about a philosophic lifeview? My contention is that the word "postmodernism" ought to be reserved for the super-culture that is currently in the process of saturating the West. It seems that most people have "postmodernism" confused with "relativism." Relativism is a philosophy about the nature of reality and truth (that insists they are subjective) that affects the way one views everything. Postmodernism may be the primary vessel of relativism in the West, but postmodernism did not birth it and they are not synonymous. Relativism started becoming prominent just after postmodernism took its first steps in replacing modernism. Every new generation born in the West is becoming increasingly postmodern. Postmodernism is associated with relativism primarily because there are no more moderns being born in this world, and so the postmoderns are the only ones left to blame.

Let me explain. Postmodernism is as much a culture as modernism. Modernism has been the underlying culture of the West for quite some time, but within the last 40 years or so there has been a gradual shift toward a new “Western” culture. As postmodernism has been developing, people in the most recent generations in the last four decades have had a blended culture of the upcoming postmodernism and the outgoing modernism. As a result of this melding of the two mindsets, relativism was born.

Though we observe relativism mostly within postmodernism, modernism is just as capable of providing a habitat for it. Many older university professors today are most certainly modern in their culture, but relativistic in their philosophy about truth and reality. Relativism can survive in both environments because it is the bastard child of modernism and postmodernism. It represents an amalgamation of the worst of the two competing cultures.

One amoral characteristic of modernism is its critical, skeptical, and analytical tendency. This can be a good thing. Moderns are often very logical. In this case, we can reason with them about the rationality behind the existence, judgment, and payment of sin. It can also be a bad thing. Moderns can become so skeptical of anything that they cannot touch, taste, smell, see, hear, and prove, that they may resort to atheism, humanism, pseudo-intellectuality, and immorality.

One amoral characteristic of postmodernism is its draw toward existential, spiritual, and inherent meaning. This can be a good thing. Postmoderns are often very open to spiritual things (not necessarily “Christian”) and greater causes. In this case, we can talk with them about the Person of God, who has a higher purpose for His creation than its rebellion against Him, creating disunity, destruction, pain, poverty, sin, and estrangement to God, but who has entered the world to redeem it and restore peace, love, unity, perfection, and true meaning. It can also be a bad thing. Postmoderns can become so spiritual about the things that are not of God, that they may turn toward paganism, false religion, and immorality.

One amoral characteristic of both modernism and postmodernism is their very strong emphasis on individuality. Individuality is the deepest characteristic of all Western culture. This is expressed in different ways in postmodernism and modernism. During the glory days of modernism, individual success was the emphasis. Now, in the midst of the rise of postmodernism, individual expression is the emphasis. Modernism’s emphasis on individual success can create, among other things, a wonderfully healthy work ethic and sense of responsibility, but it can also create inordinate priorities, pride, self-seeking, and covetousness. Postmodernism’s emphasis on individual expression can create, among other things, an encouraging atmosphere for creativity and personal growth, but it can also create an atmosphere of inconsiderateness, laziness, sloppiness, and permissiveness.

When the concentrated individuality of Western culture unites with the skepticism of modernism and the spiritualism of postmodernism, relativism is born. The worst individualist rebels against the Ultimate Authority (God). The worst skeptic doubts the Ultimate Truth (God). The worst spiritualist seeks a personalized adaptation of the Ultimate Meaning (God). This is how a relativist develops: he either starts as a modern Westerner who adopts the worst of postmodernism, or as a postmodern Westerner who adopts the worst of modernism.

At a later time, we may delve more deeply into the differences between modernism and postmodernism, but for now, let it suffice to say that postmodernism is not what everyone seems to think it is. It’s a budding Western culture that can produce both good and bad. Let’s not confuse the issues. When most people use the term “postmodernism,” they mean “relativism.” So, let’s say what we mean. Relativism and its causes are the enemy the Kingdom should be fighting, not the postmodern culture in particular. If you must confront the worst of postmodernism, then at least be consistent and confront the worst of modernism, as well. Trust the Word, the wisdom, and the Spirit of God to guide you in your efforts to reach out to relativists in our society. And remember that you represent the God who is the sole source and proprietor of authority, truth, and meaning.

Labels: culture, modernism, postmodernism, relativism