being happy with third place

Ah, java.

The biggest thing I miss about Iowa City is its abundance of trendy coffee shops. I used to joke that you couldn’t fall down in Iowa City without hitting your head on one. I miss them.

A couple of months back, I was walking home and, as I was leaving the square, I noticed a couple peering in the window of a new shop. I leaned forward and cupped my hands around my eyes to cut the glare and see inside. I turned to the couple and observed, “Just what we need on the square – one more antique shop,” which drew a pretty good laugh.

The woman then said exactly what I was thinking. “What we need is a coffee shop. I can’t believe Washington doesn’t have even one coffee shop.” We parted company shaking our heads.

Now that there are two new coffee shops in Washington, I am reminded of why I was so fond of them. It is because they are a perfect example of a “third place.”

Sociologist Ray Oldenburg, coined the term “third place” in his book The Great Good Place. He argues that public gathering places like bars, coffee shops, general stores, and other "third places" (in contrast to the first and second places of home and work), are central to local democracy and community vitality, and I tend to agree.

Many ministries are beginning to embrace the idea of the third place as a means to reach deep into their context and meet people where they are. Oldenburg explains, “What suburbia cries for are the means for people to gather easily, inexpensively, regularly, and pleasurably – a ‘place on the corner,’ a real life alternative to television.” One need merely observe the amazing popularity of chains like Starbucks and Seattle’s Best to see that Oldenburg is right on the money.

Ideally, the church would be the perfect third place, and perhaps it once was, but many of the things that make a third place so appealing – its playful attitude, open spirit, and accessibility – have been pushed to the margins in the institutional church. Overcoming this marginalization is at the center of our efforts in LIFEGROUPS, but, because one normally enters a LIFEGROUP through the church and not the converse, if the church is not functioning as a third place, it is unlikely a LIFEGROUP will either.

You have heard me speak of the need for the church to discard our attractional and evangelistic model for a missional and incarnational model. To do this is to stop focusing on attracting people to the church and talking them into the baptistery* (the Holy Spirit will take care of that – John 12:32), but rather placing God’s mission for the church – the Missio Dei – that of reaching the lost with the good news, at the center of our efforts and facilitating it by physically inserting ourselves into our culture to change it from the inside out. I appreciate missiologist Alan Hirsch’s explanation of these terms. He describes being missional as “casting seeds into the world” and describes being incarnational as “embedding those seeds in the earth so they can take root.” Hirsch suggests we must abandon our come-to-us approach and adopt a go-to-them strategy. Exactly what this means in our Washington, Illinois, context remains to be seen, but perhaps third places are a good place to start. Let me share an example:

Last week, when I stepped into The Ugly Mug, the new coffee shop on the square, the first thing I heard was, “Ed!” Remember Cheers? While Cheers may have been a bar, it was the ultimate third place. Didn’t you always wish you could walk into a place and everyone would shout, “Norm?” Anyway, Dee, the barista and owner of the place, immediately began to relate how she had met someone I should talk to. She went on for a bit, and then someone across the room overheard and added an observation. From there, we launched into a lively three-person conversation about the difficulties of experiencing community in our current culture.

In a completely natural and organic way, this space was transformed from a shop on the square to a seedbed for the gospel. I didn’t walk anybody into the baptistery that day, but the Lord was there amidst the decaff latte and espresso.

Ah, Jesus.

*That is not to say we shouldn’t invite people to church or to baptism, only that the approach and the focus could be slightly different

handling divisive people

Check out this excellent Henry Cloud video by clicking on the following link:

http://www.cloudtownsend.com/videoserver/player.php?clip=CCNT2421&link=http://www.ccn12shop.com/video/CCN/topic/wmv_M/CCNT2421_M.wmv&playerType=WM

back in the day...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ... I was an editorial cartoonist. I worked on and off at several different publications for about ten years. Here are a few of my favorites from my last few years at The Daily Iowan (1996-1998). Enjoy...

after the McVeigh verdict

tough love

after the Clinton verdict (heh, heh)

just a little fear for my kids

truth is stanger than fiction

money for bombs but not for food

flashback

Check out this article I wrote last September, shortly before we began our involvement with Cornerstone Vocational Center and City on the Hill Church of Christ. Isn't it funny how God works?

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my comfort zone. Am I getting too comfortable in it? Did things I used to consider revolutionary become cliché when I wasn’t looking? Am I becoming my dad? Actually, I have been telling my son to turn down the music a lot recently. Hmmm.

Despite my apparent aptitude for creating controversy, I am finding more and more things controversial myself. This disturbs me a little. For instance, as hard as I try, I can no longer picture Hip Hop or Heavy Metal music as valid options in the worship service. I used to think they might be interesting, but now I can’t picture it. Conversely, I fear our “choruses” are moving from the cutting edge to the cozy middle (Incidentally, I really dislike the term “choruses”. It was coined to describe those church-camp-style songs with all of the meat removed – the sort of song we rarely play – and it is often used as a derogatory term. “Worship songs” would be more accurate). Or consider our outreach. Is it constrained to the usual, safe, suburban, white-dominated realms of soup kitchens, food pantries, Pro-life rallies, and Habitat for Humanity?

Might life be a wee bit too comfortable for us suburban Washingtonians? Are we so privileged that we are in danger of taking our blessings for granted?

One part of me says, “Hey, isn’t this what you’ve been working for all these years?” while the other, deeper, part says, “Are you ever supposed to feel comfortable here?” If we are feeling comfortable, might we be succumbing to the world?

In 2 Corinthians 5:6-8, Paul explained our state this way:
…as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

We are aliens here. We are meant to feel uncomfortable. We shouldn’t want to be assimilated. We long to be at home with the Lord, and until we are, we should feel a little lost. I believe that a burr under our saddle or a stone in our shoe is much more likely to be the tool God uses than a warm bath. Remember, Jesus did not say, “Since everything was easy for me, it will be easy for you too!” He said, “If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also.”1

Change is not everything. In fact, change is not even a virtue. But, neither is it the enemy. Rather, stagnation and comfort are the enemy. Recently I heard that the medical definition of death is a body that has stopped changing. This does not mean that we stop “testing the spirits.”2 We must still be discerning, but the test is whether our discomfort is spiritual or worldly. Have we spotted the problem, or are we the problem?

If something in a worship service challenges you or some outreach opportunity thrusts you out of your comfort zone or something just doesn’t set right with you, look first to see what God may be doing in spite of your discomfort. You may be surprised to see what God can use. Maybe even Hip Hop or Heavy Metal.

1 John 15:20; 2 1 John 4:1

Fold Your Socks

Zip has a sock fixation. Seriously, we can’t leave a discarded sock alone for more than, say, twenty seconds before she absconds with it to places unknown. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting her, Zip is our cat.

There is precious little method to her obsession. One time, I might find fifteen socks randomly distributed throughout the living room, another time half a dozen, each displaced from our various clothes hampers to its own individual stair, forming a sort of foot path to the upstairs bedroom, but I have always been under the impression that I had a handle on this. You see, there are preventive measures you can take, for instance, she has yet to figure out how to open my sock drawer, and, for some reason or other, she doesn’t fancy socks that are folded together (you know, like your mom taught you). So, I figured I was one step ahead of her. Silly me.

The other day, Janelle, my daughter, was performing a very rare chore; she was actually cleaning her room. Her mom was helping out and was trying to unearth the bureau in the corner so Janelle could sort some of her mountain of clean clothes into its drawers, when she made a startling discovery. Underneath this bureau, in the corner of Janelle’s room, was Zip’s secret repository of white, poly-cotton treasure. The final inventory yielded nearly fifty socks in all shapes and sizes.

This is a perfect example of what is wrong with thinking you have it all figured out. When you think you know what everyone’s thinking or what’s around the next corner or even how many socks you own, you’re more likely to get outsmarted by a three-legged housecat with a brain the size of a walnut.

Don’t get me wrong. Just like you, I can’t function without a few formulas or recipes or help menus, but some things in life are just too messy to fit into a five-step plan. So what do we do?

Solomon explains, “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps,” and Jeremiah quotes the Father in a letter to the exiles in Babylon, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

We are much like those ancient Hebrews Jeremiah addressed. Just like us, they thought they had God all figured out, and just like them, we are once again God’s people in exile. While they were in exile, God promised that, if they sought Him with all of their heart, He would bring them once again out of captivity. As we are no longer the controlling institution of the western world, we are once again in exile, and this promise once again applies to us. God has plans for us – plans to help not harm. But, notice He says, “I know the plans I have,” not “You know the plans I have.”

Quit obsessing over where all the socks are. You’ll find them; they’re around somewhere. In the meantime, keep folding your socks like your mom taught you, but try to enjoy life’s unpredictable nature as God allows it to unfold before you. Get intentional about living in community and watch things play out in each other’s lives. Go ahead; make your plans. But remember, God determines your steps, and they’re good ones.

Slackers and Hijackers

Just yesterday, I was channel surfing and landed briefly on IFC (The Independent Film Channel), during The Henry Rollins Show. For those of you who don’t know, Rollins used to be the lead singer of Black Flag, the predecessor of just about every hard rock band presently in existence. He was a screamer before screaming was cool. Now in his forties, Rollins is the self-proclaimed guardian of our national sanity. In his mind, this means spending all of his time railing against the Bush administration, Fox News, and anything else that smells vaguely like a Republican. Apparently, most episodes feature The Disquisition, a stream-of-consciousness-style rant from uber-liberal actress, Jeanine Garofalo. In this particular installment, Garofalo spent her five minutes of expletive-drenched airtime equating those who don’t oppose the war in Iraq with Eva Braun, the mistress of Adolph Hitler, and Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme, Charles Manson’s main squeeze. Excuse me? Did someone just equate me with Eva Braun? Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m all for freedom of speech, but Garofalo’s rant was tasteless, reckless, offensive, and intellectually dishonest. As I see it, this is just one more indication that our culture is embracing postmodernism. As post-modern “intellectuals” continue to discard all our trusted metanarratives, we are left with an every-man-for-himself attitude that is both unhealthy and unnatural.

“Wait a minute,” you say, “What is a metanarrative?” You may not know the term, but chances are much of your life and most of your decisions are determined by one or more of them. A metanarrative is the big story that shapes your worldview. For the ancient Hebrews, it was the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible), during the medieval days it was the Holy Roman Church, the Enlightenment embraced a God of order that informed scientific inquiry as their big story, for the pioneers it was Manifest Destiny, and our modern age has been completely dominated by the metanarrative of Darwinism.

Postmodernism suggests that all of these fail to adequately explain the universe so we must discard them. Left with no big story, the postmodern thinker must fend for himself, writing his own independent mini-narrative as he goes along, with no objective standard by which to measure. Is it any wonder that such a directionless worldview would create such a bitter, angry commentator as Ms. Garofalo? But here’s the rub; I don’t believe it’s her lack of metanarrative that’s the culprit; she subscribes to a worldview, but it is one characterized by what it is not. It is an anti-metanarrative. Its coherence derives from its opposition to tradition and, frankly, common sense. It is a “not you worldview.” Because it opposes our previous metanarratives, it looks like postmodernism, but it’s really just a cop-out for intellectual lightweights.

I believe this need to oppose our past springs primarily from our culture’s distaste for the Christian metanarrative of our forefathers, mischaracterized by rigid formulae and iron-fisted authoritarianism. My question? Who hijacked our metanarrative? Who took Jesus’ story of self-sacrifice and servant leadership and turned it into the list of dos and don’ts that so frustrates today’s culture? Nowhere in scripture is our journey toward salvation, mission, or discipleship characterized as a vending machine – put in a quarter and out comes your selection, salvation or forgiveness or peace or whatever candy bar you choose. Neither is it characterized as a switch you flip -- saved, not saved, saved, not saved, saved…

Life is much messier than that and that is why God had to come down here and get messy with us. Rollins and Garofalo would probably appreciate that if they weren’t so busy disagreeing with us. Perhaps that is why Paul instructs us to do everything “without arguing or grumbling.” Instead we should wrestle with the simple metanarrative at the center of Christianity: God created the world and it was good, but we messed it up, so He had to come down and give us a way to make it right. Now, even though we don’t deserve it, we can have a right relationship with God through His son, not by keeping a bunch of rules but by loving one another.

Wow. What a positive message. That’s a metanarrative I can live with. Unfortunately, angry “not you worldview” subscribers control the conversation and we are stuck defending hijackers.

Baby Steps

The events at Virginia Tech are chilling. If you are not struggling, at least a little bit, with God’s role in all of this, you are probably in denial. However, it is impossible to function in today’s world without coming to grips with the existence of evil and its relationship to the sovereignty of God. To understand this issue you must understand that we cannot truly enjoy freewill in a world without sin. In order to be truly free, you must be free to do wrong, and when others choose sin, the innocent may suffer. The only alternative is a world without choice, a prison of obedience. This struggle is played out in concrete terms as Virginia Tech law enforcement personnel look to the future. Is it possible to protect 26,000 students from every homicidal maniac without turning the campus into a prison of obedience? Probably not.

Just days ago, I heard that Peoria racked up its sixth homicide for 2007. Peoria residents were fed up and much hand-wringing ensued. “More gun control,” some said. “More money for schools,” said others. Then they turned off the cameras and everyone went home. Those of us watching from our couches most likely retreated to the relative safety of our beds and, after a few moments of anxiety for inner-city Peoria and perhaps a quick prayer, got a good night’s sleep. However, hundreds of inner-city youth were lying awake wondering if they were next. How many of them started considering whether it might be safer to join a gang than try to avoid them? How many will carry a weapon to school tomorrow just to avoid feeling like a victim?

These events are also chilling and they are right in our backyard. But what can we do? What is our responsibility? Do we wait until we can elect politicians who pay better lip-service to better crime prevention? Do we lobby for bigger prisons and more police officers? Do we curse the rich? Do we blame the poor? Do we grumble? Do we scream? Do we pray? Do we weep? We can do these things, or we could do something real.

Big talk, I know. We talk about this a lot. “We need to be Jesus to the world.” “We need to get out of our comfort zone.” “We need to step out on faith.” “We need to put our money where our mouth is.” More talk is not an option. After painting a pretty clear picture of the church’s mission, Jesus suggests that all we have built will meet with destruction if all we do is talk. “Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?” (Luke 6).

Fortunately, Washington Christian Church is already doing something. Through our BTG (Bridge The Gap) initiative, we took a big step in the right direction at our Easter evening service. We, a suburban, white, independent Christian church, invited an inner-city, black, non-instrumental Church of Christ to worship with us Easter evening. Our worship teams joined forces and we played with a full band. Their minister preached a rousing sermon and ours offered a time of reconciliation around the Lord's table. It was a HUGE blessing and God was there. We bridged several gaps that night – cultural, racial, and fellowship gaps – with unprecedented success.

Also, many of our men have been regularly helping a young Peoria pastor with his vision to create new, healthy opportunities for young men in inner-city Peoria through the Cornerstone Vocational Center (CVC). At present, we are just helping get the facilities up to snuff, but by summer's end, CVC should be offering several hard-skill training opportunities, some tutoring, and assistance in earning a GED.

Jesus told the rich young ruler first to sell everything he had and give it to the poor. Only then could he truly follow Christ. (Luke 18:22). Are we clinging to our safety and comfort so tightly that it is preventing us from truly following Jesus? We need to find a way to bridge these artificial gaps we've created - to step across the divide we've set between cultures, races, doctrinal beliefs, denominations - and embrace our commonality in Christ. Sure, it might be dangerous; we might have to tread some unfamiliar territory, do some things we've never done before, and maybe even make ourselves uncomfortable. But, like the rich young ruler, only then can we truly follow Christ.

Will joint worship services mend hundred-year-old church divisions or end age-old racial prejudices? Probably not. Will a skills-training center on the south side stop all the senseless killing? Probably not. But it's worth a try.

repent! the end is near!

You’ve seen them. You know, the tee-shirts depicting the empty sneakers left behind by the raptured teenager or the bumper sticker that reads, “WARNING: In case of rapture, this car will be unmanned!” Perhaps, like me, you have lamented the utter lack of non-rapture-related Christian fiction (unless you like stories about pioneer school marms, that is); in fact Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins have struck exploitation gold with the number one selling book series of all time, Left Behind. Clearly, there is one dominant paradigm in contemporary, evangelical, end times doctrine: Pre-trib rapture. It seems like the only game in town, but is it?

Actually, there are four different, vastly divergent theories about biblical eschatology (from the Greek eschaton, meaning the end of something) – the study of the “end times.” I’m not going to go into detail about them here (click here for a short description of all four theories), but I do want to dispel a couple of myths. The first is that biblical prophecy, especially “end times” prophecy, is virtually impossible to understand – nobody really knows what it means; we are all just guessing. This is patently false. Why would God place so much emphasis on prophecy and leave no clue to unlock it?

The second myth is that the only way to interpret the inerrant and infallible Word of God is to interpret it literally. This is a perplexing position. Even though all scripture is inspired and God-breathed (2 Timothy 3:16), it was still written for and by human beings. When was the last time you spoke to another human for more than five minutes without utilizing hyperbole, metaphor, or some other linguistic device to make your point?

Sometimes, I think God placed eschatological prophecy in the Word as a "key." Once we figure out the key to unlocking prophecy then we will understand that all of the other "divisive" issues in Scripture (like “predestination” or “preservation of the saints”) are similarly uncomplicated. The "key" that we learn from studying biblical prophecy is simple - rely God's on understanding, not our own (Proverbs 3:5-6). We want to "literalize" everything, but Jesus never did; Jesus taught almost exclusively from parables – little stories that exploded with meaning because of Jesus’ artful use of literary imagery and culturally significant metaphor. Find the lines between the literal and the figurative – the physical and the spiritual – and you can unlock all of Scripture. Spiritual growth in our lives comes, in part, from the conversation about the location of those lines.

The big problem I see in the church's handling of this issue is that if we, as a body, are too scared to touch this issue, if we are intimidated by it, we leave it to the mass media and sensational novelists to characterize us as superstitious nut-jobs. We need to get some perspective. End times prophecy was meant primarily as a warning to the unbeliever and an encouragement for the believer to reach them before it is too late.

Most people I talk to about this subject agree that specific eschatological doctrine is not that critical as long as we live with some urgency and strive to do God's will while we are here. However, many in our churches agree in principle but not in practice. What I mean is, many live like this is practically the most important thing! Look at how often radio preachers are casting their dark visions about armor-plated scorpion-locusts and unmanned cars smashing into oncoming traffic! These prophecies were never meant to inspire fear, but HOPE! Perhaps I am preaching to the choir, but how did we, as a culture, become so bamboozled by fear mongers? Does anyone really think Jesus will come back with a literal sword poking out of His mouth? That would be somewhat like suggesting that all Republicans are literally elephants.

the simple life

Someone recently shared their concern that some of the technology in use at our church might be directed at a crowd that has little use for it. This person’s position was that statistics and other evidences point to the idea that the baby boomers are thrusting their tech and their “contemporary” ideas on 20-30-year-olds who could care less; church is a place where they hope to escape being bombarded with technology. While I agree in theory, I am uncertain how that translates to practice.

I think the direction worship tech is going – away from flashy toward discreet - is healthy. However, I see the effective use of technology in worship as becoming less and less visible – not going away, but becoming less obvious. How can we use tech to augment rather than amaze – to encourage worship rather than supplant it. Good tech has always been, in my opinion, an attempt to "finesse" rather than "bombard."

Indeed, today’s young people appear to be leaning toward simplicity in worship and away from the over-produced excesses of the mega-church. However, in Washington, Illinois, we are still transitioning. I think the tech-savvy baby boomer is still our major demographic here, but things are shifting. This is why I am taking every opportunity to emphasize becoming more missional and why I am trying to interject more and more “low-tech” artistic contributions this year (like readings, drama, participatory worship events, etc.). I would also like to see involvement at WCC become simpler and simpler – more and more family friendly. Maybe what we need are fewer things to bombard them with?

The boomers’ worst legacy is not their fascination with technology or their eclectic musical tastes, but their relentless rat race. Perhaps the most important job of today’s church is to teach simplicity. Maybe today’s church should be about offering people help getting off the crazy treadmill of our daily lives. It is almost impossible to help people catch their breath in one hour on a Sunday; we need to teach that there is a better way. The spiritual discipline of simplicity is almost completely absent from our modern church vernacular, and we need to bring it back. How do we do this? I am not sure; I have ideas, but I’m willing to admit that they might not work. However, these seem like good questions as we move forward.

The trick is understanding that, whatever this shift is, it is not an indictment of the “classroom church” of our parents’ time or the “corporate church” of ours, but merely a culture shift. We also need to understand that the shift away from technological whiz-bangs is not a shift toward the church of the 1950’s, but toward the church of the first century; as restorationists, we should be tickled to death with this development, but we (the pre-boomers, the boomers, the busters, the gen-x-ers) are ALL creatures of habit.

Is everybody going to get on board if we start moving out of the fellowship hall and into the inner-city? Is everybody going to like it if we replace fluorescent light with candle light? Is everybody going to like everything we do? Nope. What does that mean to us? How do we keep trying to be all things to all people, that we might save a few? Not sure, but if we keep the dialog open we are at least trying.

last year's oscars

Many guys wait all year for the Superbowl, the playoffs, the World Series, Wimbledon, the Stanley Cup, the Indy 500; I wait all year for the Oscars. The Academy Awards are my Superbowl. I have watched them every year since I was about ten years old. Like most Superbowl fans, I don’t watch the Oscars because I have an inordinate respect for the participants or the voters or the presenters. Instead, like Superbowl fans who love football but not necessarily football players, I love movies but not necessarily movie makers, actors, etc. I like the tributes, the movie clips, and the inside jokes (which is why I also love DVD’s; watching an excellent movie, then learning more about the filmmakers’ motivations and the movie-making process is like a movie geek’s dream!), but I’m often annoyed by the celebrities and their causes and their misplaced sympathies.

This year, unlike years when I have a clear favorite I am rooting for, like Return of the King, I found myself rooting against a movie. I was cheering for “Anything but Brokeback Mountain”. Even though I had not yet seen either movie, I was really happy that Crash won Best Picture just because it wasn’t Brokeback Mountain. It isn’t like me to shun a movie based strictly on its subject matter, but I just can’t get behind a movie about gay cowboys. Sue me.

I had heard good things about Crash, and now it had won Best Picture, so I ran out and rented it and I am so glad I did. Crash is a complex movie – the language is rough and there are some scenes that are difficult to watch – but it is an important movie. Take this passage, spoken by Graham (played by Don Cheadle), at the beginning of the film, “It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”

On the surface, Crash looks like a story about prejudice and hatred, but it is actually a modern-day retelling of the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It takes place in a fictional Los Angeles where everyone is the beaten man in the ditch and everyone is the priest or Levite, but maybe everyone could also be the Samaritan. People are walled off and emotionally distant. The characters are products of our 21st-century American culture. All of their connections are either inappropriate or impersonal or illegal; their relationships are all defined by prejudice and distrust until they find themselves in a ditch themselves and have to reach out to the untouchable Samaritan man for help, only to find out that they are just as untouchable to someone else. There is fear and there is pain but there is also hope.

This is what being human is all about. It is what Christ showed us when he risked His reputation to eat with prostitutes and tax collectors. It’s what He modeled when He shared His life and ministry with His circle of twelve comrades. We must share ourselves. We must risk our safe lives behind all this “metal and glass” and touch. Otherwise we will be fated to crash into each other just to feel something.

What are you doing to reach out? What are you doing to overcome your prejudices? Could you reach out to the prostitute or the tax collector? How about the gay cowboy? Maybe I will see Brokeback Mountain after all.

That's the Spirit!

I recently finished coursework for a class I am taking called "Theology of the Restoration Movement," which was an excellent class and there was TONS of reading involved. This post borrows liberally from North's excellent RM history, Union in Truth. If you haven't read it, do.

Probably the biggest thing I discovered through all of our reading was the continual and everywhere-evident wrestling match our brotherhood is engaged in over balancing the influence of the Holy Spirit with the authority of Scripture. You can see it in the jabs the Restoration Herald takes at the Christian Standard (e.g., I read in the RH a vitriolic and comical criticism of an editorial in the CS about a “definite calling to ministry,” which the RH writer completely discounted because the CS writer could not or would not be more particular about “how” he was called. Are we, as a movement, so convinced that the Holy Spirit can not prick a man’s conscience toward action, as to jest about it? I am afraid I am not that convinced of the Holy Spirit’s impotence.) or in the resistance to non-thru-the-Bible Sunday School offerings (“Why do we need to study Larry Burkett? The Scripture teaches everything about money that is profitable for Christians.” Again, I am afraid I am not so convinced of Burkett’s lack of inspiration that I will recommend a single mother wait until we get to the part about keeping her out of the poor house). The three issues that plagued the early Restoration Movement in this way were multi-church organizations (missionary societies, Bible societies, etc.), located, salaried preachers, and musical instruments in worship – all issues of “Biblical authorization.”

I think this issue is easily described in the tension between two Restoration Movement slogans: “Where the Scripture speaks, we speak; where the Scripture is silent, we are silent,” and “In doctrine, unity; in opinion, liberty; in all things, charity.” Can we really live both of these slogans? Can we balance this tension? The tension stems from our definition of silence; if the Scripture is silent, do we claim no authority or do we claim nothing at all? Does silence imply liberty or prohibition? It is this central concern and the tension it creates that tore our movement in two in 1906.

Perhaps the most difficult implication is that, in order to claim that silence denotes prohibition, we must discard the prompting of the Holy Spirit and the liberty necessary to follow it. Do the current proponents of the Restoration Movement so wish to silence the Holy Spirit that they would deny His guidance in the absence of clear instruction? Does doing so qualify as liberalism? While I am not sure that anything we studied in this class provides a clear cut answer to these questions, it has definitely helped me to better frame the questions so that I can wrestle with them myself.

I frequently run into direct application of this issue within the framework of my position as discipleship minister and as a small group leader. Our congregation is a heterogeneous hodge-podge of different religious backgrounds, attitudes, and doctrines, all vying for position. Standing our doctrinal ground (“in doctrine, unity”) requires an understanding of the differences and I believe those differences often stem from our understanding of the work and influence of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer and our lost neighbor.