Aj Schwanz

So I’ve shared some about the process of the group.  At least, I feel as though I did:  does it make sense to you?  What are you fuzzy about?  What would be helpful to hear more about?

During this process I read a great book called Permission Granted To Do Church Differently in the 21st Century.  It’s written by Gary Goodell, a person I know not a lot about, and Graham Cooke, a person who has become key in my spiritual journey.  Graham Cooke, originally from Great Britain so he’s got a *great* accent, leads a prophetic ministry centered in Vacaville, CA.  Dad introduced me to Graham in the form of videos and audio cassettes which I listened to while going for morning walks around my neighborhood.  He is one of the kindest, to the point, challenging, loving teachers I’ve ever heard.  So when I heard about this book, I knew I’d need to read it.

Section 1:  The authors talk about the “Third Day” church God’s told them that we’re moving into (there’s lot of references in the Bible about moving into something new on the third day).  Development of people and churches; Church as a living system - organic and organizational paradox (the church is a field - flexible and changing (this is the response to our cultural context) - and a building - rigid and unchanging (these are our values) - how do we hold to both?).

Section 2:  Third-Day Worship; God-centric Worship; the Worship Feast

Section 3:  Third-Day Meetings; Embracing the Unpredictable; What’s Really Sacred?

Section 4:  Transition (Oh, my, how people would be helped if they read this - to actually understand what we’re going through.  It doesn’t make it easier necessarily, but it’s nice to understand what is actually going on).

Section 5:  Third-Day Preaching

Section 6:  Third-Day Mission.

Good stuff, eh?  One chapter really struck me:  Groups of Tens, Groups of Fifties, and Groups of Hundreds.  “It is not that we just need more than one meeting.  In fact, it doesn’t matter how many meetings you have in a week or a month.  What is important is to see the potential of different sizes of meetings that create different atmospheres or venues, and thus produce different outcomes or results” (109).  We have different sized meetings at NFC, but I don’t think we know why we do, nor do I think we always have placed the correct desired outcomes on those meetings.

The first group is groups of ten.  “These smaller groups are home-based, intergenerational meetings, where we share our lives on a regular basis, make our needs know to each other, and bear each other’s burdens.”  This seems to happen with small groups and Listening Life groups and some Sunday School classes.  “These groups are not cell groups, or even home groups; they are real churches - complete and autonomous churches.  They have leaders; the often receive offerings for missions, the poor, the needy.  They evangelize the lost, baptize converts, dedicate babies, marry the wed and bury the dead, and obviously celebrate the sacrament of communion.  These small groups are not just extensions of the ‘mother ship’ local community church that has a central campus around which all life swirls.  They are the Church” (111).  He then goes on to talk about the theological importance of having The Meal together.  “The local church does not do small groups; the local church is a small group where everyone participates” (117).

Groups of Fifties:  “This is the group where everyone worships” (117).  “These groups are not meant to replace the whole body, but rather make possible a type of meeting in which all ages, including children, can participate” (118).  There has been a concern voiced about what to do with the kids during our six-week fast:  people are concerned for their spiritual welfare if they aren’t in Sunday School.  I’m a bit concerned for their spiritual welfare if they don’t know how or get to have an opportunity to contribute to the larger body!  “This meeting is based upon the full priesthood of all believers with mutual edification and mutual up-building for the purpose of personal strengthening” (118).  And Goodall notes that this is not the entire body, but a gathering of several smaller churches or simple churches in a larger setting (even a home, a park, a backyard).

Groups of Hundreds:  “This is the group where everyone listens and learns.”  The point of these groups is for the larger body or network of churches to consider direction.  They are generally led by teams, not an individual, embodying fivefold ministry.

The other week my husband was getting poked by God to consider the point and purpose and elements of worship.  He was questioning the focus on the sermon:  is that very worshipful?   We do need to be taught, but perhaps we have been putting the wrong function on the different group sizes.  It’s like putting a wrong car part in a car engine:  I will probably be frustrated when it does work well, but can the part change to meet my expectations?   Not so much.  When we try to wed worship and teaching, the focus is divided.  When we aren’t being church in small group ways, we’re probably not prepared to worship:  we have to play catch up in worship to get to that worshipful place.  When we try to get our individual needs met in the large group, people will fall through the cracks:  people can’t be held accountable very well in groups of hundreds.

So, as we think about where we are stepping next and who we are stepping with, perhaps we need to make sure the “parts” are serving their intended function, otherwise we’re going to get stuck on the side of the road, and I don’t think Click and Clack will be able to gufaw our way out of this one.

Again, crossposting a review for my Seminary class.  Thought it could stand some good ol’ Friendly input. 

When “Professor” Clark alluded to the fact that some of us were going off-roading with our elective reading choices, I think a bright flashing neon sign lit up above my head.  :) 

After reading about liturgy and fighting commodification through liturgy, I thought it would be beneficial to explore the core elements of worship and its manifestations within differing traditions.  For the past few weeks I’ve been sitting with Evelyn Underhill’s book “Worship”.  I say that I’ve been sitting with it because, at least for this sleep-deprived reader, it’s not a quick read.  Underhill’s most known work “Mysticism” explores the wider topic of communion/experience/”yadah” with God; this follow-up looks at some more practical ways individuals and groups experience this.  Divided into two parts, the book first details the purpose and the elements of worship and then explores these principles and values in specific denominational expressions. 

“Worship is here considered in its deepest sense, as the response of man to the Eternal; and when we look at the many degrees and forms of this response, and the graded character of human religion, its slow ascent from primitive levels and tendency to carry with it the relics of the past, we need not be surprised that even within the Christian family there is much diversity in the expressive worship which is yet directed towards a single revelation of the Divine” (xxi).  This statement contains elements of the sentiment of Luke Bretherton’s picture of Deep Church drawing from the same well of tradition as well as Andrew Walker’s thoughts on Deep Church and paradosis:  “What is new about this retrieval is that it is a quest for something old, and its modus operandi is not a technique, but a turning back (epistrophe)” (50). 

While looking at the fundamental characteristics of worship, Underhill often details the extremes manifesting from the response to Reality (most often comparing the Anglican church and the Quaker meetings) sharing the strengths and weaknesses of each expression.  For example:  “Habit tends to routine and spiritual red-tape; the vice of the institutionalist.  Attention is apt to care for nothing but the experience of the moment and ignor the need of a stable practice, independent of personal fluctuations; the vice of the individualist.  Habit is a ritualist.  Attention is a pietist.  But it is the beautiful combination of order and spontaneity, docility and freedom, living humbly - and therefore fully and freely - within the agreed pattern of the cultus and not in defiance of it, which is the mark of genuine spiritual maturity and indeed the fine flower of a worshipping life” (22).  This almost reminded me of the characteristics of the modern (ritualist) and post-modern (pietist) movements.  As she moves on to describe early Christian worship, she notes that the earliest form of Charismatic expression was taken on by Hellenistic Christians who moved away from the Jewish models (180).  This seems similar to the modern/postmodern movement as well where the postmodern group is trying to follow a new expression of worship that seems so dissimilar to the previous standard.

Underhill gives some details not only about current worship, but the history of worship starting with the Hebrews and moving to the early church and the denominational splits.  Interestingly she noted in Jewish life that “it was surrounded by a number of small ritual observances; which can easily be dismissed as formal or superstitious, but were really directed - like the small external pieties of the ‘good Catholic’ - to the sanctifying of all the common events of everyday life, by a constant and humble remembrance of the claims of the Eternal God and His Law” (156).  Sounds a little bit like Bretherton’s “mundane holiness” to me where “in our day Christian disciplines and practices must act as antidotes to the attempt to shape our personhood through consumerism, technology, and the myriads to Pasnopticanlike institutions of the corporation state” (244). 

I spent more time looking at Underhill’s evaluation of Quaker/Free Churches than the other denominations because this is the tradition I come from.  I have been a bit disheartened reading “Consuming Religion” with Miller’s thesis that liturgy fights commodification of religion.  One of the main characteristics of the Friends is the lack of symbol/ritual/liturgy of the high church.  In the preface to George Fox’s “Journal”, William Penn notes, “The bent and stress of their ministry was conversion to God, regeneration and holiness, not schemes of doctrines and verbal creeds or new forms of worship, but a leaving off in religion the superfluous and reducing the ceremonious and formal part, and pressing earnestly the substantial, the necessary and profitable part, as all upon a serious reflection must and do acknowledge.”  After hearing this most of my life, it’s easy for me to assume that Quakers are anti-ligurgy.  Miller quotes Terrance Tilley:  “The significance or meaning of the doctrine of the Real Presence can be paraphrased or summarized theologically, but it cannot be fully understood except when it is connected with the ritual practices of the community that holds the doctrine” (202).  Tilley was speaking of the Eucharist, but his reference to the “Real Presence” seems to mesh with some of Underhill’s thoughts:  “It points past all signs and symbols to the Invisible Holy, trusts the immanent presence with men of the Invisible Holy, and perpetually reminds us of the awe and humility, the pause, the hush, the deliberate break with succession, with which man should approach the great experience of communion with teh living God:  ‘not hurrying into the exercise of these things, so soon as teh bell rings, as other Christians do’” (237).  Perhaps there’s more liturgy involved than I had previously thought, but it simply looks different.  But what does that look like today within the differing branches of Quakerism with some being evangelical and some not, some being programmed and some not? 

I’m uncertain as to what to do with this book.  It seems very black and white, all or nothing.  Underhill describes strengths and weaknesses, but it’s either the best of the strengths or the worst of the weaknesses - not a lot of inbetween or what happens with the introduction of shallow bricolage.  It reminds me of the difference between analyzing something in the lab under ideal conditions versus using it in the real world with unknown variables.  Her explanations of symbols and sacraments were incredibly helpful (they are a means of God sharing Truth with us).  I greatly appreciated the pointing out of similarities of truth and purpose and principles within the traditions:  she detailed the similarities without making them the “same” - showing the beauty of each characteristic or expression, like a family portrait.  Perhaps as I chat with others we can take some time to gaze deeper at our latest family pictures - the good and the bad, the modern and the postmodern, the institutional and the emerging, and see the beauty of each grandparent and parent and child and wait in anticipation of the generations to come.

A while back I responded to a blog post saying that I’d love a copy of a soon-to-be-released book, stating I’d review it on my blog.  Well, a few months, one kid, and a lot of sleepless nights later, I’ve finished the book.  What motivated me besides the fact that I said I’d do it?  I got to read it for my class.  It always helps to multitask.  :D  Here’s my submission for class:

Consuming Jesus:  Beyond Race and Class Divisions in a Consumer Church by Paul Louis Metzger

Paul Louis Metzger, a professor at Multnomah Biblical Seminary, tackles the topic of evangelism, church, consumerism, race, and class in his book “Consuming Jesus:  Beyond Race and Class in a Consumer Culture”.  He believes that consumerism has commodified evangelism; this sort of Christianity has had horrible effects, particularly in causing division in matters of race and class.  Noting the truth in Martin Luther King, Jr.’s statement that “the Sunday hour is the most segregated time during the American week”, Metzgar explores how churches have become clubs or cliques of like-minded and like-looking folks:  “The consumer-driven church culture fosters homogeneity and upward mobility, not the transforming harmony and downward mobility of the triune God that is realized in the cross and resurrection” (10).  The correct exalting and practice of our Ark of the Covenant (Scripture and the Lord’s Supper) combats the consumeristic practices that have invaded the church.   Metzger calls the church to look back at the atoning and reconciling work of Christ for the whole of humanity; as we are consumed by Christ, we see and enact His vision for the world. 

I appreciated Metzger’s method towards exploring this topic.  He laid an excellent foundation, exploring the roots of fundamentalism and the actions/words of a few folks that have snowballed into the divisions of the church that we have today.  “The fundamentalist reconfiguration of the church from a retreating fortress to a political battle camp to a homogeneous unit is a faulty order that plays into this consumer cultural vision of social relations” (33).  It made me cringe to think of some of my personal reactions, for example, when thinking about schooling my child:  as of late, hearing so many “horror stories”, I want to keep him “safe” at home.  But Metzger points out that “While Christian parents must guard against spiritual bravado and sacrificing their children to Molech for the ministry, they must also guard against the perverse spirit of hiding their children from God and sheltering them from the world, by keeping them locked up in the Christian ghetto” (100).  My, how those thoughts have seeped into my perception about church:  “Oh, I won’t ask them to come to my church - they wouldn’t like it.”  “Wouldn’t they be more comfortable with a church population that’s more their age/race/social class/type of personality?”

It took me a bit to get through (probably due to sleep deprivation and constant requests for “Boos Coos, Mama!” (Blue’s Clues)), but Metzger’s chapter on “Reordering the Cosmic Powers” struck me, mostly because I haven’t spent a great deal thinking so deeply about the impact of what happened before the foundations of time and what the implications were for Christ’s death on the Cross.  Apparently my view is fairly simplistic:  Christ took on *my* sins so I can be in relationship with him (nice and consumeristic - me me me!).  Metzger used the Narnia image of the White Witch, Aslan, and the Deeper Magic that brought him back to life.  It’s left me wondering:  in how many areas do believers/the church believe that they are still under the Old Law - the Law that was administered by the fallen angels?  Do we ever really take time to discern that?

Metzger feels that the divisions that exist in the church today can be countered by replacing the importance of Scripture and the Lord’s Supper.  Instead of using Scripture as an expository teaching tool, picking it to pieces, he explores the transformative nature of the metanarrative of Scripture, particularly as it has worked in African American churches - giving them a story that mirrors their own and a hope to look for.  In regards to the Lord’s Supper, he notes that the nature of the original practice was different because it “crossed ethnic, economic, and social lines in the ancient church” (123) and through this the church is not only reconciled to its own members but also to other churches.  Then they are called to proclaim this union and communion to the world through words and actions - redistribution of goods (137).  [This relates to previous readings:  It mirrored the sentiment that all churches draw from the same well of tradition:  Scripture, history of Christian belief and practice, and systematic theology and prayer (Murray xv), but more pointedly examined racial and class divisions - beyond denominational differences.  As Miller stated (195), Metzger agrees that the practices need to have meaning rather than be a tool or rote action.]

Metzger did not delve as deeply into the consumeristic nature of churches, or perhaps his foundational information on commodification wasn’t as detailed, although he certainly footnoted excellent resources.  Miller’s book [Consuming Religion}, with its Roman Catholic audience, did not seem to have as much of a feel or expectation that folks flit from church to church as much as Metzger's evanglical audience, so I appreciated Metzger's challenge:  "Rather than quickly leaving our consumer-oriented, homogeneous churches - thus becoming a connoisseur Christian ourselves - we should do everything we can, working patiently and lovingly to become transforming agents, helping our own churches transform themselves from the inside out" (66).  [Again, referencing previous reading:  This does not totally mesh with Murray's take on Post-Christendom's tendency to be sojourners rather than settlers (19), but does with the emerging church's glocal characteristics (Bretherton 32).  ]

Metzger picks a bit on the megachurches, particularly Saddleback and Willow Creek.  I understand his concerns, but I’ve also heard some turnings in their outreach, particularly incorporating those who are of other races and classes, and I wonder if part of their effectiveness is due to their size and resources (which Metzger seems to feel is due to having a consumer-driven church). 

As I look at my worship gathering, I must admit that Metzgar’s book wrecked me in some places - in a good way - but still:  ouch.  I’m reminded of a quote by Shane Claiborne:  ““People are poor not just because of their sins; they are poor because of our sins (and people are rich because of our sins). On the wall of New Jerusalem (a facility made up of people recovering from addictions) is a sign that reads, “We cannot fully recover until we help the society that made us sick recover”".  Again, I’m challenged by the idea of corporate confession and turning:  how will we ever begin restitution and reconciliation without naming the past?  And how, in a tradition that doesn’t practice the typical liturgical Eucharist, are we called to be reminded of the barriers that Christ’s redeeming work destroyed? 

I like books. I like books on interesting topics - cooking, parenting, ecclesiology (as opposed to my dad who has books on chaos theory, chess strategy, and the penguin history of the world, and yes: he’s read them all). And I *really* like books on interesting topics that I get for free, so it was a banner day when I opened up my mailbox to find a copy of “It’s a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit” by Patrick Oden.

“It’s a Dance” takes a look at the daily life workings of the Holy Spirit through fictional discussions of a newspaper reporter and an a-typical faith community functioning out of a pub. Luke, a jaded journalist, interviews Nate, the “pastor/bartender,” about his nontraditional approach to church. As Nate gives the background of the community, as well as introducing Luke to various members, the discussion weaves functionality with spirituality, exploring the form their faith expressions take as well as the inner workings of God, the Son, and the Spirit that’s been sent to believers.

The book hits a lot of “buzz word” topics floating around the blogosphere and beyond:

• What does it mean to be missional?
• What does it mean to be incarnational?
• What does it mean to welcome the stranger?
• How and why do we worship creatively?
• Is there a boundary between the sacred and the secular?

But due to the conversational nature of the writing the book never takes on a “textbook” feel. As the characters share their lives and experiences, they also share the reasonings and theology behind their actions. Considering much of the “emerging church conversation” is supposed to be, you know, a *conversation*, this book seems to be an appropriate way to convey the thoughts, ideas, and inner leadings of this current movement.

I greatly enjoyed the emphasis on the movings of the Holy Spirit. The evangelical movement (at least certain streams) seems comfortable with dicussions about God and Jesus, but the Holy Spirit seems a little . . . impish: something we don’t really see that seems a little tricky. And while the emerging conversation has discussed a great deal of the implications of being missional/incarnational, not a lot of emphasis has been given to the promptings which move folks to live that out: that of the Spirit. Instead of getting into a lot of eccesiological/eschatological/insert another word that they use in Seminary that makes lay people go “enh?” stuff, Oden uses the characters to share and show how the Spirit is inclined to move and act in the day-to-day. Practical. Tangible. Helpful.

My only minor complaints, totally coming from my snobby writing/lit background:

• I had a hard time differentiating between speakers (their voices sounded very similar).
• I could use more plot/action, which I know wasn’t the point, but if it’s going to be fictional, a little more movement has got to happen to keep mothers-of-fourth-month-old-yowlers alert.
• Nobody talks that eloquently. Correction: I’m jealous because I can’t articulate my faith and theology that well (ah, blessed sleep deprivation: I’m lucky if I can remember what name goes with which creature I’m currently ministering to).

“It’s a Dance” is hitting the streets November 1st. I suggest you take it out for a spin on the dance floor: it likes the night life; it likes to boogie.