I am definitely enjoying An Emergent Manifesto of Hope. It is providing lots of food for thought. There have been some chapters that I really agree with and there have been others that I disagreed with (or maybe just didn’t get it).

One of my favorite chapters so far is Adam Walker Cleaveland’s “Presbymergent: The Story of One Mainliner’s Quest to Be a Loyal Radical.” From my perspective as a young United Methodist pastor, Walker Cleaveland does a great job of providing insight into what many young mainline pastor’s are struggling with. He is honest and vulnerable in his essay, and his analysis of the strengths and struggles of staying grounded in a mainline tradition is insightful.

He writes: Being part of a denomination that has significant historical roots gives one a sense of belonging to something bigger than oneself. When people realize their faith in God is much more than just a personal, individual decision, that they belong to a great “cloud of witnesses” of those who have gone before them, their vision of the church is both deepened and enlarged (123).

In my own faith journey, it was learning about John Wesley’s life and theology that really began to help me set down deeper roots in the United Methodist Church. It was in looking to the past and to our Wesleyan heritage that I began to find that there was a place I could stand with conviction and hope.

One of the most valuable contributions of “Presbymergent” is simply that Adam Walker Cleaveland is willing to be vulnerable and honest about his journey towards ordination in the PC (USA) with the excitement and ambiguity that he feels towards the church he is currently a part of. In conversations that I have had with young pastors moving towards ordination, there seems to be a fear of being completely honest about who I am, or “they” might not let me in. I appreciate what I see as Walker Cleaveland’s faith in God that enables him to not focus too much on the institutional boogey-man that is trying to keep him out of the denominational club. My experience in seminary, getting to know many young pastors, definitely corresponds with his assertion that: Future pastors are yearning to be given permission to be loyal radicals within their respective denominations (126).

I am surpirsed at how often the importance of small group accountability has come up in this collection of essays. It may be it seemed more frequent than it was, given my personal interest in the subject, but it does seem like it has come up in several different essays.

Sally Morgenthaler’s essay “Leadership in a Flattened World: Grassroots Culture and the Demise of the CEO Model” is one of the essays that has made me think the most after having read it. I have continued to chew on her idea of the importance of collective intelligence, and the way that eBay, Google, Amazon, Starbucks, Netflix, Apple, and others have understood this and applied it to their way of doing business. What stuck with me was her argument that: Western Christendom seems oblivious to its implications. But it is the entrepreneurial church (congregations of roughly one thousand and above) that seems particularly clueless about the shift from the passive to the reflexive. And this, despite all its posturing about cultural relevance (180).

The main idea from this quote is probably the main thing from this book that I have read so far that I would love to hear a broad group of Christians discuss. I found myself wondering how would Craig Groeschel at Lifechurch and Adam Hamilton at the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection respond to this article, among others?

The essays that didn’t really connect with me were Barry Taylor’s “Converting Christianity: The End and Beginning of Faith,” Samir Selmanovic’s “The Sweet Problem of Inclusiveness: Finding Out God in the Other,” and Dwight J. Friesen’s “Orthoparadoxy: Emerging Hope for Embracing Difference.” Selmanovic seems to want to coronate everyone an anonymous Christian, which seems ironic. Friesen lost me with this statement: Here is my working maxim of a theology of orthoparadoxy: the more irreconcilable various theological positions appear to be, the closer we are to experiencing truth (209). Off the top of my head: God is dead. Or, God is alive. I guess, that statement just seems to me to be trying a little too hard to say something new or profound.

But, I have to admit that some of these essays I read more carefully than others… so I may not have given them as fair of a hearing as they deserved. Ultimately, in a book with this wide of a scope, it would be amazing if one reader really connected with every chapter. (In fact, I don’t have the impression that this was ever even a goal that Jones and Pagitt had for this project.)

Thoughts? Reactions? Disagreements?

I just came across this great quote by Brian Mitchell in An Emergent Manifesto of Hope:

Any church that hires people to serve itself is a dying church. It is dying because nobody joins a church to maintain a building. People join churches because they believe they can walk the journey of faith more fully within a community that is making a difference (117).

What is the pulse of your church?

One of my favorite things is going to a book store to look for a specific book, and then stumbling upon a book I never knew existed. That happened a few days ago when I found An Emergent Manifest of Hope. Of course, I immediately bought it. I am just over 100 pages into it, and am enjoying it so far. If you have read this book, I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Thomas Malcolm Olson’s “Jailhouse Faith: A Community of Jesus in an Unlikely Place” especially made me think. I am very interested in the importance of accountability for growth in the Christian life, and I was fascinated to read about Olson’s experience in prison ministry. He seemed to find that people in prison were more aware of their need for accountability than were people who were outside the walls of prison. Why is it so hard for us to humble ourselves enough to admit that we need help? Why do we have so much trouble being honest with others about what is going on with our faith?

This quote alone may have been worth the price of the book:

It would be good for Christianity if churches imitated penitentiaries and encouraged their parishoners to act more like prisoners. (It took me three decades of being a Christian to come up with that one, which explains why I make my living as an addictions counselor instead of a church growth consultant.) But I think I’m on to something. Every person needs one safe place where he or she is able to stop pretending, a place of ruthless honesty and unconditional love where no one is allowed to fly underneath the radar (95).

Amen to that! Do you have a safe place where you are able to just be real, to be completely vulnerable to someone else. Where you know that they are not standing in judgment of you, but they are standing with you, praying for you, seeking your good in all of the seasons of the soul? In my life, this kind of place has helped me grow in my faith more than any other.

So, I couldn’t put Revolution down yesterday. It was a very thought provoking book. My main lingering concern/criticism is that he seems to make a lot of general assertions about what the Bible does or does not say without really going into it in much depth. He also doesn’t cite the research data that he talks so much about in very much depth. I was definitely interested, but I would have liked for him to have gone deeper.

Here are a couple of the quotes that particularly caught my attention:

– They (Revolutionaries) are seeking a faith experience that is more robust and awe inspiring, a spiritual journey that prioritizes transformation at every turn, something worthy of the Creator whom their faith reflects (14).

– One of the most important lessons I’ve learned from studying the words of Jesus is that He loved fruit. Not the kind you pick off trees or vines, but the kind that’s evident in the life of a person whom He has changed. He made very clear that the proof of people’s faith is not in the information they know or the religious gathering they attend, but in the way they integrate what they know and believe into their everyday practices (25).

– being part of a group that calls itself a ‘church’ does not make you saved, holy, righteous, or godly any more than being in Yankee Stadium makes you a professional baseball player. Participating in church-based activities does not necessarily draw you closer to God or prepare you for a life that satisfies Him or enhances your existence (36-7).

– Americans are used to controlling their lives. What makes Revolutionaries so bizarre is that they admit they do not have control of their lives and they are not seeking to attain control. Who else would you want controlling your life besides the God of Creation (82)?

– Let me also point to a major reason why most local churches have little influence on the world is that their congregants do not experience this transformation in identity. Our research indicates that churchgoers are more likely to see themselves as Americans, consumers, professionals, parents, and unique individuals than zealous disciples of Jesus Christ. Until that self-image is reoriented, churches will not have the capacity to change their world. After all, a revolution is a dangerous and demanding undertaking; it is not for the minimally committed (87-88).

Barna makes some powerful arguments. He also raises some disturbing questions for local churches. The first question that comes to my mind is: Why are local churches no longer helping people who make a profession of faith in Jesus Christ become deeply committed Christians? Or, is Barna even right in arguing that local churches typically are not leading members into deeply committed faith?

What should a local church do to address the committed members of the congregation who may not be living lives that reflect that their faith is their number one priority?

Do you think Barna is right, will more and more people leave the local church in favor of the “mini movements” that he writes about?

What do you think?

“The United States is home to an increasing number of Revolutionaries. These people are devout followers of Jesus Christ who are serious about their faith, who are constantly worshipping and interacting with God, and whose lives are centered on their belief in Christ. Some of them are aligned with a congregational church, but many of them are not. The key to understanding Revolutionaries is not what church they attend, or even if they attend. Instead, it’s their complete dedication to being thoroughly Christian by viewing every moment of life through a spiritual lens and making every decision in light of biblical principles. These are individuals who are determined to glorify God every day through every thought, word, and deed in their lives” (Barna, 8).

The above quote comes from the book Revolution by George Barna. I have just started this book. In fact, I am currently literally just a few lines past the above quote. But, it is already making me think. Barna hits on something that is very close to my heart: the importance of being a deeply committed Christian. A deeply committed Christian is definitely someone whose life is “centered on their belief in Christ” and who makes “every decision in light of biblical principles.” But is it possible to be a deeply committed Christian without being deeply committed to Christ’s church? And what is going on with the church that so many deeply committed Christians can’t find a church that encourages them in their desire to live lives dedicated to serving and following the Lord?

Your thoughts?