Missional Church – Brandon Woosley

Changes

Some of you have known this was coming for a while, but now we are ready to talk about details: I have resigned as the Pastor of St. Paul Evangelical United Church of Christ, and in mid-September, Christy and I will be moving our family to Cupertino, California, where we will be serving as the lead staff in a community home for three developmentally-disabled adults.

Our work will be part of an approach called the Family Teaching Model, which supports disabled adults seeking independence and community. These are individuals who have previously lived in a state institution, and now are being given the opportunity to live in local communities. Our work as a Family Teaching Couple will be to aid these individuals, and to welcome them into our family. We are excited about this model because it treats the men and women who are a part of it with dignity and respect. We believe that people with disabilities or impairments still deserve to seek the kind of life that they want to live, and the FTM does that. It’s not a new model; an organization in Kansas has been leading with this model since 1977, and is being used in a few other places. We believe that it is both a great approach to the need of supporting disabled adults, and we believe it is a way in which we can make an impact in the lives of others.

As I’ve been reflecting on the decision to make this change, I’ve been thinking a lot about Willie French. Willie was a man who was a part of St. Paul Church for several years before he passed away in late 2010. Willie found us because of his own initiative – he wanted to be a part of a church, and so he pushed his support staff (and former support staff who were still in touch with him) to help make it happen. They did, and so Willie became a part of the St. Paul family. When he decided that St. Paul was a place he wanted to be, Willie asked for people who would be willing to give him a ride to or from church. I thought that was such a beautiful, humble and yet bold way of behaving. He didn’t really know us yet, but he was willing to tell us how he needed our help. And several people stepped up and got him to and from church – although he would also walk the 2-plus miles to church if he didn’t have a ride! The people who got to know Willie welcomed him and became friends with him, which was especially beautiful to me because I knew that in previous settings Willie had been made to feel like a problem, like a hinderance or an embarrassment. Willie knew that he had limitations, but he was not embarrassed. People who took the time to get to know Willie were blessed by him. I was one of those people.

I believe that serving the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven includes making sure people like Willie French, or my son Zach, or our new friends in Cupertino, are part of the community. 1 Corinthians 12:20-26 tells us that the people who seem to be “weak” (to some) are in fact essential to our well-being as a people, because of how they teach us to be together. In Matthew 25 Jesus teaches that those who serve others in need – be it the need for food or drink, a place to call home or a cloak to wear or someone to call a friend – are those who are doing the work of the Kingdom on earth.

That’s what I want to do – the work of the Kingdom. I want to inherit the Kingdom! I want to learn the lessons that the least of these have to teach me! I want to teach my sons the values of the Kingdom. So, my friend Willie, my son Zachary, many more friends we have made along the way in recent years (especially my JAF Maranatha friends!) and my King Jesus inspire me to go make a new community. All of us will be grateful for your prayers.

The Bible, Disability, and the Church

The title above is also the title of a book by Amos Yong that I’m reading today. Yong is a Pentecostal theologian, and the brother of a man with Down Syndrome. I want to share with you today the end of his first chapter, as it’s clarity was particularly gripping to me.

Some say that sustained thinking about disability is unnecessary because disabled people constitute only a very small percentage of our congregations. I counter, however, that this is probably because the church communicates the message ” you are not welcome here” to people with disabilities. Further, there are more and more “hidden” disabilities that are not easily noticeable, so how do we know that there are in fact few people with disabilities in our churches? Last but not least, the challenges associated with living with disability will be experienced by everyone if they live long enough, whatever medical aids and technological advances may develop. Some people might resist associating the struggles of being older with those of disabilities. My focus, however, is less on the why of our challenges than on the fact of our ongoing exclusionary and discriminatory beliefs and practices. Hence, I am suggesting that disability needs to be a present concern for us all, even if only because all of us will in due course have to confront the issues that some of us now live with every day.

Amen, brother Yong. I’m thinking of putting together a reading group, either in person or online, to discuss The Bible, Disability, and the Church later this summer; if you’re interested, let me know in the comments.

Play a New Game

Since I was a kid I’ve enjoyed playing the “Celebrity Look-Alike” game, and the stranger or more obscure the better. You know the drill: “You know who that guy looks like? Michael Stipe with a curly wig!”

In the last two weeks, I’ve found myself noticing not would-be celebrities, though, but people who look like people I know. One day, it was an old friend from my old haunts of Lena, Illinois, strangely out of place in the suburbs; a few days later it was my grandma; then earlier today it was a dead ringer, from behind, for one of our church’s members. As I walked behind this woman, thinking of this other woman, I realized a fresh opportunity to pray for my church member. And with that, a new game was born: for the rest of the day I looked for people who resembled people I know, and when I spotted them I offered up quick prayers of blessing and thanks for my remembered dears.

Why not try joining me in this new Look-Alike game this week? Let’s see if it creates a new habit of prayerful awareness.

Losing Focus

I’ve tried several times to write about this cultural moment, and my paralysis is perhaps best exemplified by my problem even finding a suitable shorthand name for all of this – because it is about so much more than Chick-Fil-A, and even the ongoing culture war in America. This moment is a symptom of several chronic ailments, both for the culture and for the Church. I am inclined here to focus on the ailments of the Church, particularly because I think we (the Church) need to start with the log in our own eye before we start to pick at the eye of the culture.

What distresses me most about the Church in this situation? That most Christians I have heard, seen or read regarding this moment are more concerned about defending their First Amendment rights than the Kingdom of God and the gospel of that Kingdom. Lots of talk about defending our rights, and no one (in my circles) asking how we can show or express the Kingdom in this situation. Too few are asking how we can invite the people we are treating like our enemies to come to the Kingdom, or even thinking about the Kingdom. I think that reflects that our Kingdom citizenship is far less prominent in our minds than our present circumstances. Do we take it for granted? Do we not understand its appropriate prominence in our lives? Or, worst of all, is Christ (and his Kingdom) an accessory for us, rather than our identity? We are clearly more concerned about making sure that our understanding of The American Way carries the day than that Jesus Christ would be known and loved. Our attention is on building American Christian Empire, not the Kingdom of God.

What distresses me almost as much about the Church is how stupid and hateful we sound. I have encountered multiple Cultural Warriors in the last week who, on the surface, would seem to be on the same side as me, and after listening carefully to them, I am seriously tempted to move across the aisle. I believe there is a logically-consistent, Biblically-grounded rationale for not following the cultural tide toward redefining marriage, but it is rarely articulated. Instead, we speak out of our emotional insecurity, our visceral distaste for sexuality that doesn’t look like ours, and our patchwork of proof-texts and half-learned lessons from sermons or Bible studies. Our presentation is an overheated, blustery drawing of a line in the sand – rather than an attempt to reason with the person who disagrees with us, so she will see the consistency of our position, or to persuade the person, so he will be drawn to our alternate vision of what is and can be. Our responses don’t actually seem designed to win anyone to either Christ or our side; they are sledgehammers, or cannon fire, intended only to beat back our “opponents”. I cannot see how this is ever a response suitable for a follower of Jesus.

We are fearfully consumed with anxiety about winning, even as we claim to be the people who are standing up for Scripture. These two things cannot fit together! The Bible study group I meet with each Friday morning has been discussing the Revelation of John for 4 years, and the passage we were reading this morning from chapter 20 reminded us vividly that Christ has won the victory over Satan, and sin, and death. He does not need us to fight his battles (this is quite literal, in fact: if you look at Chapters 19 and 20, Christ gathers his faithful in a way that is pictured as an army, but it is only Christ who fights the foe!). If we believe that Jesus is Lord, then he will complete his victory in his time, and the truth will win out. So why are we trying to conquer enemies, instead of trying to invite those who dwell in darkness to see the great light of Christ? Or, if we will insist on seeing them as enemies, when will we start treating them the way Jesus told us to treat our enemies?

Lawgiver, or Friend?

Lest this seem to come out of nowhere, I want to flesh our an idea that we talked about in worship this morning, as we continued our journey through the New Testament letter 1 John:

Have you ever thought about how you mentally frame God’s commandments? The language of “command” automatically starts our minds down a specific pathway, one where God makes the rules and hands them down to us, and we receive them and follow them or else. And…there is something of that pathway that we need to take seriously. God is Sovereign, and is the one who establishes the code of conduct he desires from his people. These aren’t the Ten Suggestions, and this isn’t the first step in a negotiation.

And yet…might we also need to notice that God has something like a “dual role” with his people? Consider that in the introduction of his first letter, John writes:

that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. (1 John 1:3 ESV)

The tone of that passage is very different from the thought-world of God as Commandment-Giver, isn’t it? Fellowship is the translation of koinonia, a word which speaks of close relationship and sharing, mutuality and partnership – and this is the word John uses to describe the relationship he has (and his readers can have) with the Father and the Son. So, what do we do with the tension between these two ways of understanding God?

Most commonly, people resolve the tension by disregarding one side or another. Some try to explain away one of the two sides, but others simply “forget” one side, and frame God as either Stern Lawgiver or Welcoming Friend.

Why can’t God be both?

In the third chapter, John’s description of the Divine-human relationship resumes:

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. (1 John 3:1 ESV)

This image is the resolution of the tension between Lawgiver and Friend. What’s more, I think it reveals the desire of God for the ongoing movement of his relationship with us. Within the parent-child relationship, there is intended and expected hierarchy, and there is mutuality. There is (at least at the beginning of the relationship) a clear expectation of superiority of understanding and wisdom, and there is tender-heartedness, and the hope that maturation will bring friendship between the parent and the child.

So it is, that God gives commands, because he loves us as children, and knows the world (and us) better than we do, and wants the very best for us. In fact, God knows the world and us perfectly, and God’s commands are given in light of that knowledge. God’s commands (and I do not soften the authoritative force of that word in any way) are also invitations into a quality of life which God desires for us and with us as we enter into ever-deepening koinonia with him. The commands do not cease to be commands, but as we mature, perhaps we begin to understand the heart behind them. When God gives us commands, he gives them out of love, and out of the desire that through following them we will be able to relate to God in more mature ways.

I am blessed that I am able to think of my father and mother as friends. I cannot recall if the idea really occurred to me when I was 11 (like my oldest son is now); even if it did, I surely did not imagine the depth of our relationship today. At 11, most of our relationship was still governed by the rules of the household which they set down; I cannot think of the last time one of my parents felt the need to identify a command for me to follow. Some of this is because I have internalized the rules of my parents’ household, and they have become an invisible part of our relationship – might this correspond to the Jeremiah prophecy of the new covenant?

I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. (Jeremiah 31:33 ESV)

God’s commands may remind us that God is Sovereign and we are not, but they should not be a burden which we rail against. At the same time God rules over us, he loves us, and offers us the best path to wholeness and maturity, both within ourselves and in our relationship with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit who have invited us into their fellowship. Lawgiver and Friend.

So, what am I leaving out of this conception? What have I missed? I’d love to hear your thoughts.