formativefriendships.org

Choose Your Model Carefully

Bill — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 20:48:48 +0000

I attended my college reunion earlier this summer (more years ago than I want to admit!). I was reminded very forcefully about the importance of influential people in molding me for life. During the Alumni Banquet I was seated with my college roommate and his wife (my biology lab partner!) not far from the spot where one of the most transforming events of my college life happened. I want to tell you the story.

Image by manicmorff

It was my first semester, and I felt like a lost child. That morning in chapel the President had spoken on a topic that I cannot remember, but he had raised a question in my mind that I wanted to ask him. At lunch I was sitting by myself. I looked up and saw the President walking across the dining hall toward the faculty dining room, and I realized that he would come within a few yards of me. I jumped up and intercepted him in the middle of the room. I spoke his name, and he turned to look at me. I introduced myself, stated my question, and listen intently as he responded–briefly but thoughtfully. I was aware–keenly aware–that from the time I spoke his name, I was the only person on earth so far as he was concerned. I understood that he valued me and my questions, and affirmed by his attention that I was important.

The transaction may not have taken more than 2 minutes–I don’t know. But as I returned to my seat I looked back to see a large group of men in business suits following the President. It was the members of the Board of Trustees! Wow! He had taken 2 minutes of his time away from VIP’s to listen and respond to me. At that moment I promised myself that I was going to be that kind of person: he had his doctorate in ancient Semitic languages, was president of a nationally-recognized college, yet included me fully in his world for the time it took him to answer my question.

That was not my only interaction with him. We became personally acquainted and even traveled together on a couple of occasions. In years since I have sought his counsel on major issues in my life, and he found ways to help me fund research for my doctorate. I am not like him in many ways because he is a natural people-oriented person while I am an introvert. But I have chosen to rearrange my priorities to put people that enter my life ahead of deadlines and schedules.

We never know who might make the same decision about us, do we? I often think about the students in my classes and office. In what ways are they molded by their interaction with me? We must understand–and remember–that formative relationships grow from 2-minute episodes. The work that I now do, including this blog, is deliberately focused on interacting with as many people as possible: a student, a colleague, a neighbor, a cashier, a stranger on the street, that crosses my path. Who knows which of those short episodes will help mold a life. And the longer term relationships? Those also mold me!

Choose your models carefully.

Culture: benign or belligerent?

Bill — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 20:47:40 +0000

I just finished reading Phyllis Tickle’s The Great Emergence. Her thesis is that every 500 years the Christian church experiences a paradigm shift–a fundamental reappraisal of the basics of its faith. A new expression of the historic faith emerges that shatters the coherence of the old order. These “rummage sales” produce a major advance in the spread of Christianity. The last great upheaval was the Reformation, and–the point of the book–we are presently experiencing one, the Great Emergence.

Image by twocentsmore

I’ll leave you to read the book if you want to. It is an impressive integration of religious, cultural, and political history—with a few questionable linkages and generalizations. But I was much more intrigued by what she did NOT say. She did not explain this flow of history that produces a sea change every 500 years, and nowhere in the book does she use the word “sin” or “evil.”

There have been many explanations of causes or forces that “move” history: trade and commerce, powerful ideas, conflict between social or economic classes. Some Christians are comfortable with “providential” history, seeing nations operating as agents of divine favor or judgment. But Tickle makes no explanation whatsoever. It could be that she, as a postmodern thinker, is simply uninterested in the great “meta-narratives” that ascribe to this or that great force the power to order human society over eons of time. Or perhaps her purpose was to describe “what” was happening, not to explain “why.” But I find the gap a bit disturbing.

It seems in Tickle’s analysis the church is carried from crisis to crisis by this current, whatever it is, and simply molds itself to, or is molded by, the demands of the changing intellectual environment. The Church (the body of believers in the world) has little impact on, or resistance to, the tide.

Here lies Tickle’s second omission: I believe that this tide can best be described as a moral conflict. The abundant grace of God confronts human moral twistedness; the creative image of God in humanity is at war with the human will to power; and the redemptive plan of God at odds with human self-centeredness. If I am right, the Church is not merely carried through history by a benign force, adapting itself to ever-changing circumstances, periodically changing clothes to keep in fashion.

What is missing from Tickle’s book is an understanding that the Church by the grace of God stands opposed to dark forces that seek to dominate the culture-shaping institutions of our world. The Church is the bulwark that God raises to curb the sometimes overpowering evil pouring from the human heart. The Church is God’s work in this world. It is true that the story of Christianity in this world is usually not a very pretty one—but we (faulty, weak, short-sighted, and morally compromised) are the improbable tools that God has chosen to use in this continuing conflict. He will win, no thanks to us. He presently—and ultimately—controls the current.

What are we not doing now?

Bill — Thu, 27 May 2010 15:06:25 +0000

“What are we not doing now?” The question was as much a plea as a query. The Jamaican pastor that spoke was a student in a church history course I was teaching (in Jamaica, of course!). A contrast ate at his soul. On one hand, there was the dynamic of the Ancient Church, as that of 13^th friars, 16^th century Anabaptists, 17^th century German Pietists, and 18^th century Evangelical Revivalists (to mention a few) that we had been studying. On the other hand, there was the struggle he faced every day to get a hearing for the Gospel among his neighbors.

The answer to his question might be a theological one, or a cultural one, or a methodological one. The early Christians did not yet have a fully developed understanding of the Trinity, but they did have an absolute certainty that everyone had to meet this Jesus who had risen from the dead. Perhaps we are too settled in our theological formulas, but our heritage of profound theological thought ought to be an advantage to us.

Photo by tallisen

The cultural contexts could not be more different. The Roman world was decadent, licentious, polytheistic, and cruel. Jamaica has more churches for the size of the population than most countries in the Christian world. It shares with the rest of the world serious economic problems and a sexual ethic that threatens family structure. But the Christianization of Jamaican culture (shoppers hear contemporary Jamaican gospel music in the supermarkets!) ought to be an advantage, shouldn’t it?

“What are we not doing now?” C. S. Lewis, in Mere Christianity, described Christian faith as a “good infection,” spreading from person to person. I am proposing that much of the difficulty of getting a hearing in Christianized culture is in significant part a methodological problem. All of the movements I mentioned in the first paragraph share one common feature: evangelism was a outcome of small meetings in homes, not large gatherings for preaching. That, of course, is seriously oversimplified. In many cases these groups used their homes because they weren’t allowed to gather in public, or the public meeting places were hostile to their message. They would not have understood their pragmatic response to opposition “a focus on small groups in homes.” But from the historian’s perspective, that is what circumstances forced on them.

In the West we have grown increasingly resistant to “intrusions” into the private world of our homes. Whatever the reasons (and I’ll have to return to them in another posting), the spiritual and personal result is that we hold people—especially non-believers—at arm’s length. We have swallowed the pervasive cultural myth that our religious lives should be private affairs, not to be “imposed” on others in any context.

Because of the impersonality of this (“Come to church with me” is as close as we get) our friends and neighbors do not see Christian faith operating in the ordinary circumstances of our lives. It is in our homes that others see us—and Christ in us—in our marriages, our families, our hobbies, our entertainment, our food, our ability to include outsiders without discomfort.

Hang on a minute! Maybe there’s something here. What would non-believers find in our private worlds?

Our homes and our friendships—our private worlds—are the best way to spread the good infection. Could it be that Christians are not sure that they have anything of value to share with outsiders?

Why I Blog about Formative Friendships

Bill — Sun, 16 May 2010 23:38:36 +0000

I bet that you visited this site because you are interested in the idea of belonging to a small discipleship group. You assume that I am something of an “authority” on relational discipleship, and that I have been for years a part of a thriving small group, or perhaps the director of a small group ministry. Wrong on all accounts.

I am by personality a loner, an introvert who has always been inclined to solve my problems before I talk to anyone about them—even my wonderful wife, Joan. I grew up in a religious environment where asking too many questions or airing too much dirty laundry was fraught with the possibility of humiliation. I left home at 14, and never had a really close friend until college.

Surprised? There’s more. I built a wall of protection around myself that took years to dismantle. My wife had no idea how closed I was before we married because I had learned to act the part of a confident and out-going PK. She patiently (and often not so patiently) chipped away at the wall, and after ten years of marriage we finally connected as friends as well as lovers. But for God’s grace the story could have had a very different ending.

Image by jdurham

Why, then, am I blogging about life-changing, transformative relationships? First, there has always been a deep, gnawing vacancy in my soul that I knew was the price I paid for protecting myself from open relationships. I knew I was not a whole person, but I dared not connect. Second, as a young pastor in the Northwest U.S., I was for the first time introduced to home Bible studies. A number of large, vibrant congregations in the Portland area had widespread networks with participation that exceeded their membership totals. I watched, and listened. I attended training seminars. My wife and I finally organized one among young couples in our congregation. I was hooked! But not yet open.

The turning point came as a result of research for my doctoral dissertation that required two years of residence in Great Britain. I wanted to find out what 18^th-century Methodists thought about the small groups that John Wesley (the founder of the Methodist movement) required every adherent to join and remain a part of—for life. I read diaries and journals (probably a thousand of them!)

We cannot recreate the formative years of this or any other religious movement. But we can learn—and practice in concrete ways—the naked honesty that I discovered in the dusty journals written two centuries ago. As I began to re-read the New Testament, I realized that the Ancient Church also understood the essential truth that the Holy Spirit transforms us into the image of Christ primarily through face-to-face relationships with fellow believers. None of this stuff we used to sing about: “On the Jericho Road, there is room for just two. No more and no less, just Jesus and you.” Spiritual life is never “just Jesus and you.” It is you, and Jesus, and a committed friend (2 or 3 would be great). It is Christ in the Scriptures, and books by saints who share their battles and victories.

Disconnected? Lonely?

Who is walking with you, who knows your inner thoughts, fears, and battles?

Paul wrote in plural; we read in singular

Bill — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 03:19:51 +0000

I discovered an extremely interesting dynamic in Ephesians 4 as I prepared for Lenten services a couple of months ago. This may be the key to understanding how the New Testament writers reflect on the role of relationships in spiritual growth.

Image by katja kodba

Consider this paragraph (Ephesians 4:14-16 NIV): ¹⁴Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming.¹⁵Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. ¹⁶From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work. (Thanks to Biblegateway.com) The pronoun “we” occurs twice. “We” is plural. Obviously. But I’ll wager that most of us don’t actually read it in the plural.

Think this through we me. When I read “we will no longer be infants” I understand–I assume–that Paul is using the plural because he is writing to a number of individuals scattered across Asia minor. He is planning for this letter to be shared with congregations in addition to the one at Ephesus. But even though I recognize the plural form, I read it in this way: “Paul is talking to me, personally. I am an individual. Paul is offering to me the prospect of stability, groundedness, maturity. This growing up is something I need badly. Now, how do I make this happen in my life?”

Am I right? For us, the plural is a form of address which includes all the individuals (please note this word!) that might read this paragraph–each applying the words to himself or herself. But I suspect this is not how the first readers of the paragraph read it. Let’s see if I can get this into their words.

A believer in the 1st century would not have read this paragraph as one individual among many. He or she would have read (or heard it read) as addressed to a member of a collective, a group whose members were consciously connected to each other. So the “we” would mean “none of us in this room, none of the members of this group,” will continue to be infants. “We–all of us gathered here, together, will in all things grow up into him. . .” “We–all of us in this room–with speak truth to each other in love. We will together both hear and speak, and as a body we will grow. . .”

Image by ktylerconk

The difference in t he two readings is profound. Most of us see spiritual growth as a do-it-yourself project in which singly we set out to become what God calls us toward, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit. WE ARE TRYING TO DO IT BY OURSELVES! (I know that capital letters means that I am shouting, or angry, or upset. I’m not. I want you to get that message!) By the grace of God we can make some progress as individuals, but I think that is the really hard way to follow Jesus. It is so much easier (once we learn how) to walk with Jesus together. How many other passages have we been misreading by not being personally connected to other readers?

Defining “Relational Theology”

Bill — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 02:59:08 +0000

photo by furryscaly

A quick look through the book catalog (not to speak of an Internet search) suggests that I need to clarify what I mean by “relational theology.” “Open” theologians claim the label, as do members of the “Emergent” Church. Then there are psychologists who use the title, as well as some who appear to think of “relational” theology as opposed to “traditional” theology. Note that the words “open,” “emergent” (or “emerging),” and “traditional” have no fixed meaning. I welcome readers’ responses to the following paragraphs.

My Biblical frame of reference is Jesus’ parable of the vine and branches in John 15. The image that Jesus used was that of an organic relationship between believers and himself and by extension, relationships among the branches themselves (though I have never heard any message that made the second application). This organic relationship, essential for life, is the heart of the Gospel. Jesus came to be the connection between believers and God–and among themselves.

I believe that this organic relationship that allows God’s life to flow into us is a powerful image of what God does for us every day of our lives. Yet when I turn to the Articles of Faith of my denomination, or the 39 Articles of the Church of England, or the Westminster Confession of Faith (and most other Protestant and Catholic creeds), I find a series of propositions about God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Church, sin, redemption, and the future life. I am not opposed to these creeds–they have been hammered out over centuries, back to those early centuries when publicly declaring those propositions placed one’s life at risk (and for many Christians today it is still true). But when intellectual assent to propositions (and I am all for a solid intellectual component of faith–take a look at the current issue of Christianity Today) becomes disconnected from an organic bond between God and the believer, and among believers, the essential meaning of spiritual life becomes clouded.

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I remember growing up with the Sears Roebuck catalog in our home. Occasionally, Mom filled out an order form, mailed it, and in a few weeks (haven’t times changed!) the postman delivered a box. I learned to think of prayer in the same way–launch my order off to Heaven, and God responded with a heavenly delivery–a box of faith, grace, peace, or material aid. It took me years to understand that God gives us nothing but himself. His presence is peace, and there is no peace apart from his presence. Grace is nothing more than his energy at work in my world. Material aid is nothing more than visible fingerprints of the Holy Spirit who indwells us–and every other believer.

Now, let me clarify my definition of “relational” theology. God is a trinity, a Community essentially united in perfect love. He made us in his image, so we cannot be human without loving relationships with other believers. The love that energizes these formative relationships is the Holy Spirit in person. Every believer is immediately and intimately bound together in a web of relationships with God and other believers as the Body of Christ in the world. The creeds are commentaries on that web of relationships, or perhaps, technical manuals that illustrate the absolute primacy of Jesus in understanding God in this way.

Okay. That’s were the life comes from. Now we can turn to the commentaries and technical manuals to understand as much as humanly possible about the life of God in us and our world. Remember: there is no life in them–only directions to the Life.

Linked Across Barriers

Bill — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 17:58:43 +0000

Image By: woodleywonderworks

We have had a most unusual weekend. Joan and I attended the General Conference of the Evangelical Methodist Church (you can look up the details at http://emchurch.org if you need them). There were three striking things that happened that brought the world into perspective.

First, at the Communion Service on the first day, there were three presiding general superintendents: one for the US who spoke only English, one from Mexico who spoke no English, and one from Myanmar (Burma) who spoke some English. Each offered prayer in his mother tongue without translation–after all, the audience to our worship was God, for whom languages are no problem!

Second, the Myanmar Chin (the Chin are a large non-Buddhist ethnic group in Myanmar) superintendent spoke at the ordination service, and introduced a choir of perhaps 30 young Burmese who sang in their native Mizo–every one of them a refugee who found each other and were part of an immigrant congregation in Indianapolis. Some grew up in churches under the Superintendent’s care.

Third, I had two memorable meals. I sat at a table with a half-dozen African pastors. To my left was Peter, who had planted a predominately immigrant church in the American south. To my right was a Congolese pastor who served an immigrant congregation in Germany. Seated next to him was the pastor of an immigrant congregation in Belgium. They are closely connected with churches in the Congo, and all spoke primarily French. We had some difficulty communicating in English (given my “reading knowledge only” of French and German), but we tried. Then later at a missions banquet, to my right was a Filipino pastor of an immigrant congregation in San Diego, and next to him an American married to a Filipino woman, and their congregations were planning a mission to the Philippines. The music at the banquet was provided by a young Chin woman with an exquisite voice, then by an a-cappella chorus of the six African pastors of immigrant churches in Europe. They invited us to join them in How Great Thou Art in whatever language we could use, so we sang in English, Mizo, Spanish, French, and Creole (and perhaps others).

Here are a couple of observations. First, we were among immigrants and refugees who are portrayed as threats by so many voices in our society. It seems to me that immigration is another tool that God has already sanctified to advance his kingdom. Second, this is a small American denomination with an undistinguished history that in the span of six years has been drawn into a world-wide web of Christians seizing opportunities for witness that are created by adverse, and sometimes threatened circumstances. I think God has some surprises for us!

Wilber and Lucy at Sunday School

Bill — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 17:27:11 +0000

This story comes to me from my oldest son, who teaches the adult Sunday school class involved. Names have been changed)

Wilber and Lucy had attended other churches in town, but no one knew that when they started attending Sunday school. From the first Sunday they (especially Lucy) were a problem. She insisted on dominating the entire class with an apparently endless litany of woes about finances, health (she was in a wheelchair), and injustice. The members of the class tried to be sympathetic, but lots of irritation began to show. Subsequent Sundays were repeats.

What to do with Lucy? Several members of the class talked privately, and decided to take the offensive: to redirect Lucy when she started her complaints, or to gently and persistently cut her off with a comment about the lesson topic. That didn’t seem to offend her—she continued to attend. So gradually the class learned to function with her present. Occasionally she would call and ask for transportation to church or to a medical appointment, and someone found time to help. Her litanies became less strident, and less frequent. Class members learned that she had a history of mental illness, and Wilber was a registered sex offender. But they continued to come.

Now three or four years later, they are regular members of the class. The complaints have almost disappeared. One couple assumed the responsibility for seeing that they get to church each week, and occasionally invite them home with them for a meal on special occasions. Others have helped financially from time to time as needed. Some household repairs have been volunteered, and some furniture moved. Lucy has ditched the wheelchair.

Wilber and Lucy will never be “normal” people. They will always be needy, both emotionally and financially. They have blossomed spiritually. Their lives and attitudes have been transformed by a Sunday school class that chose to include them rather than shut them out.

Living Transformed Lives in the Face of Threat

Bill — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 01:04:31 +0000

A friend e-mailed me a sophisticated electronic picture this week. As I moved the cursor from face to face in the painting, a sidebar opened explaining who that individual was and why he or she was in the scene. The theme was patriotic, and I won’t take time to describe the varied characters, not all of whom were “patriots.” The center of the picture was a regal Jesus holding in his hand a copy of the Constitution of the United States. What constitutes a Christian heritage is bitterly disputed today, but I believe that we are heirs of a thousand years of choices by mostly ordinary people who, because of their personal faith, chose to look at politics and business as avenues of expressing their moral commitments to the dignity of human beings rather than ways of enriching themselves. Someday I’ll have to expand on that, but now back to the point.

Image by: repres

A subtext of that picture is that the United States is different from all other civilizations, set apart for divine purposes, a moral light to the nations, or, as a 17th century Puritan father put it, “a city set on a hill.” This special relationship implies that America is a safe place for Christians to live, raise their families undisturbed, earn a living, prosper through divine blessing, and build churches, schools, and civic institutions. The American dream of individual autonomy and material prosperity within a framework of Christian government and Christian society sounds heavenly, right? But that is not the heritage that we have received.

Still with me? Our culture, with its emphasis on personal fulfillment and material abundance, is not a safe place for Christians. Let me repeat, Christians are not safe here! Authentic discipleship has never been supported by the powers-that-be. In this modern world believers have been seduced by a civil, political, and economic religion that has a thin veneer of Christian terminology. So when St. John warns in his first letter that we must not love the world, or the things that are in the world, American Christians are seriously confused about what the “world” is. It is the advertising-saturated, sports-oriented, security-conscious, well-educated, car-crazy, fashion-sensitive, God-language culture we call home!

As long as we see the society in which we live as supportive of, or even just neutral towards, authentic relationships with Jesus, we will never understand all the things He said about denying ourselves, taking up our crosses, being hated by the world, or not fearing the one who can kill only the body. Christians who do understand the power of self-interested hawkers around them quickly realize that they and the people they love are at great risk. Isolated believers will be at least compromised, likely overwhelmed. Christians who realize the spiritual risks will instinctively band together.

Now, the point: I have described formative relationships as a defense against overwhelming threats. Something very interesting happens, however, when Christians build relationships. The Holy Spirit steps in, and believers find that they are energized. Love (another term for God) sends them out into the world around them to transform it. Read the Book of Acts to see this in real-life action!

Relationships and Identity

Bill — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 23:06:12 +0000

The past president of Toyko Christian University explained to me the fundamental difference between the Japanese and Americans (and this applies to all eastern civilizations and all Westerners). The Japanese believe that individual identity lies in the group to which one belongs. Any individual will have as many identities as groups. He (or she—and so throughout) is a member of a family, an employee of a corporation, and a member of a bowling team (and likely others). He identifies with the values and practices of the group in which he is engaged at a given moment. He assumes for a time the values, conduct, and relationships that characterize that group. When he moves to another group, his values and conduct shift and conform to the new group. That these values are different, and even conflicting, does not matter so long as he conforms to these varying roles.

On the other hand, Westerners are taught that integrity requires that we exhibit the same values and conduct in differing roles. We see a pattern of shifting values to be evidence of dishonesty, manipulation, or lack of character. We describe as “mature” one who demonstrates consistency of values in multiple roles. Who is being molded by his relationships? It would appear that the Japanese are, and the Americans are not. In fact, being molded by relationships is similar in both cultures.

Image By: Derek & Sarah Grant

I bet you know of someone, young or middle-aged, who has dropped out to find herself. Abandoning responsibilities and relationships, she begins a search for meaning within herself, looking among competing desires and aspirations for some solid core of “this is who I really am.” Such searches are doomed until the searcher discovers that meaning and identity actually come from outside of us.

To understand this, simply think about children growing up. A baby responds to her mother’s voice first, and then quickly learns to draw particular responses from her. The same process is then repeated over and over, with other members of the family, friends, teachers, romantic partners.

What are the implications for our spiritual lives? If our understanding of who we are is formed in the words and actions of those close to us, then the kind of relationships we deliberately develop are critically important.

I had classmates in college who insisted that they visited bars with their non-Christian friends in order to witness to them, only to be captured by that lifestyle. What happened? Did they endanger themselves by seeking to influence their friends? No, I don’t think so. Two things were happening: first, my friends were being dishonest about their motives. They were looking for “freedom” rather than “ministry.” Their motivation was rooted in self-interest. Second, they were not rooted in a web of formative Christian relationships from which they were energized to reach out to others. The two errors, of course, are two sides of the same coin. They were neglecting honest spiritual relationships in order to gain autonomy and found themselves conformed to the prevailing culture because they lacked vital bonds. Formative relationships work both ways. We make the choice.

Food for thought: How many marriages have been undermined because of relationships at work?

formativefriendships.org

Choose Your Model Carefully

Other Articles of Interest:

Culture: benign or belligerent?

Other Articles of Interest:

What are we not doing now?

Other Articles of Interest:

Why I Blog about Formative Friendships

Other Articles of Interest:

Paul wrote in plural; we read in singular

Other Articles of Interest:

Defining “Relational Theology”

Other Articles of Interest:

Linked Across Barriers

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Wilber and Lucy at Sunday School

Other Articles of Interest:

Living Transformed Lives in the Face of Threat

Other Articles of Interest:

Relationships and Identity

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