In so many discussions and conversations on the nature of the church in our era (or any era) there is a curious reality that is almost always left out. Curious not because it is of minor importance or an extraneous component. Rather, because it seems so utterly vital to the nature of the church and is so absolutely a part of the Biblical discussion, and yet is still far too often ignored, even in so-called mystical or hyper-spiritual congregations.

This reality involves the spiritual context of a particular congregation, and it is precisely what John wrote about in the beginning of Revelation.

In his book Seven Deadly Spirits, Scott Daniels writes, “that real change takes place in the church not simply by altering the visible structures of the institution, such as changing pastoral staff, instituting new programs, or modifying the style of worship, but by altering the spirit or core essence of the entity as a whole… I am convinced that the genius of the letters in Revelation is John’s underlying recognition that complete change cannot occur without naming, describing, and calling to account the collective spirit of the church.”

In other words, so much of church growth or renewal has been about addressing the symptoms or changing the decorations. This is the old analogy of rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, all while completely ignoring the fact there’s an iceberg and a major gash in the hull that is causing the ship to sink. Daniels moves us deeper past the usual church growth topics, which so often want to jump into the newest model or develop the flashiest program, rather than really assessing the specific contexts of a congregation or neighborhood.

Daniels is not here emphasizing spirits as in some kind of evil, outside malevolent force. Rather, he is emphasizing that a spirit of a church is a collective spirit that reflects the people — present and past — who have influenced that setting. This spirit “that emerges from a congregation is formed by a unique combination of human action, institutional history, and cultural influence. The corporate spirit that emerges in every church captures the hopes, fears, and horizons of imagination for a congregation.” This emphasis on a collective human spirit does not discount broader spiritual realities, but it does put the emphasis precisely where it needs to be, where the Bible itself points us. In our choices and temptations and overall approaches to life we can reflect the Spirit of God, or we can choose to participate in another expression of spirit, one that reflects chaos and corruption. Every church, it seems, like every person has a different kind of temptation or tendency, but these differences can be loosely gathered together in common themes.

Daniels uses the letters to the churches that we find in Revelation as a model of understanding the various kinds of temptations and spirits that can take hold of church, and in doing this he gives us insights and direction on how to best understand the specific issues and then how we can move to best respond in a way that recreates a church spirit.

Here is his outline:
* Ephesus: The Spirit of Boundary Keeping
* Smyrna: The Spirit of Consumerism
* Pergamum: The Spirit of Accommodation
* Thyatira: The Spirit of Privatized Faith
* Sardis: The Spirit of Apathetic Faith
* Philadelphia: The Spirit of Fear
* Laodicea: The Spirit of Self-Sufficiency

Understanding how these various spirits affect and undermine particular communities is essential to really respond to broken or confusing contexts. But more than learning about these spirits, Daniels writes, “the redeeming of the deadly spirit of a church can only fully be achieved as we also learn how to embody the Scriptures in community.” And it is this fuller picture, not only of diagnosis but also of hope and promise that really fills out this excellent, readable, and enlightening text.

It should also be noted that Daniels is not a removed spectator, writing only in terms of theory. His own experiences as a pastor have shown him the highs and lows of these spirit realities. And his recent experience in helping turn a large church away from a season of brokenness and difficulty to a renewing place of health and light suggests that what he is writing about is something he has put into practice, and continues to apply to specific contexts.

Seven Deadly Spirits is the sort of book that may not have the widest audience, but it is, I think, very widely needed. I would go as far to say as this is a book that should be required reading by every new pastor or seminary student, as it orients both their expectations and their own tendencies to let go these undermining spirits and re-embrace the holistic Spirit of life. But more than these pastoral leaders, I think anyone involved in a church would greatly benefit by reading through this text, as it helps to really understand why we often experience, or contribute to, negative realities within a church setting. By naming the spirits for what they are, both leaders and those in the congregations, can begin to respond and overcome these tendencies, with the help of the Spirit who calls us, and empowers us, to live out in full the life that Christ has given to us. The Lord “stands at the door and knocks, inviting us to be open to his renewed life with us.”

Well, if you’re wondering where I’ve been, I’ve been engaged in a very busy quarter, reading a lot and recently writing a lot.  I just turned in my paper for the quarter.  It was 60 pages long, plus a 6 page bibliography.

The title was “Spirit and Truth:  A Study of Susanna Wesley, John Wesley, and John Fletcher as Participants in the Stream of the Spirit’s Work”

Here’s the conclusion:

As my goal was to look at Wesley as part of a stream of the Spirit’s work through the course of history, I primarily focused on those influences which fed into and flowed out of his significant contributions.  Although not within the scope of this present effort, the political, social, and religious contexts of his era were also vitally important and understanding these more fully is essential to understanding not only what Wesley thought but also how he applied and expressed his underlying priorities.[1] Wesley was, to be sure, an intellectual man whose eclectic reading and education shaped him significantly more than most of his era, yet a person can never be independent from their social surroundings.  Indeed, Wesley’s immensely practical interests make his social and intellectual climate even more important for study.

Seeing the work of the Spirit in an ecological rather than reductionistic fashion means that to most fully understand a context we have to look before and after, into the specific details of the people and settings, while keeping in mind the general patterns the Spirit seems to exhibit in every era. In this work, my goal was not to offer a comprehensive view of Wesley or Methodism, but rather to narrow my focus on particular influences which seemed to have led Wesley to explore certain paths, and shaped how he led others down these paths.  To be sure, there were even significantly more religious and literary influences which affected Wesley, each of which deserves fuller study, though I selected those which I felt were the most influential, with other influences often either honing or expanding what the initial influences prompted in Wesley’s continuing quest for a holistic faith.

This quest for a holistic, more purely expressed faith was not new to Wesley.  Indeed, this is the expression of the work of the Spirit in the life of the church since the day of Pentecost.  The Spirit has called and enabled the people of God to more fully participate with God in this world.  This participation calls people to turn away from their own attempts to bring definition to their life, which only lead to an incomplete identity in a struggle against the contrasting forces faced in this world.  The attempts to bring hope or definition or peace are, ultimately, unsuccessful.  For death entered into this world, and death calls all people into its grasp.  Death came into this world through the first man, Adam, but death was overcome by the new Adam, Jesus of Nazareth, who died on the cross but did not remain dead.

After three days, he was resurrected, in the power of the Spirit, the firstborn of all creation becomes the first of the resurrection, and offers this hope to all who seek him, letting themselves find their identity in his identity. In doing this, such people do not lose their self. By letting go of attempts at self-definition, by letting go of the ego’s attempt to form a false, defensive identity, the power of the Spirit reaches in and provides renewal, refreshing, and resurrection, even in this present life.  In the life of Christ, we are given life. In the power of the Spirit, we are reborn to new identities, able to take hold of the fullness of God’s reality, participating increasingly in his fellowship, and in this, participating in the fellowship of all his people.

This fellowship of God’s people in this present era is called the Church.  It is a reflection of God’s Kingdom, formed in unity and diversity to be a people who hope, who help, who love.  Yet, the Church, like present humanity, is not always, or even often, fully reflecting this call in the world.  In every age there are errors and heresies, mistakes caused by zealousness or distortions enabled by gross perversions allowed in sometimes even the highest leadership.  The Spirit who calls the people, who empowers the people, does not abandon the people.  In every age there is a constant work of the Spirit of God, calling people back to wholeness and truth, empowering those who truly seek Christ to be light in their contexts, teaching and prophesying, for the sake of the whole of God’s people.  This work of the Spirit often enlightens the people to a more fully realized truth, building on the insights of the past to help each generation see more and more clearly the fullness of the truth that God is calling all humanity to live.  This stream of the Spirit refreshes and enlivens; it sometimes breaks down but it also helps build up, bringing fresh life wherever it goes, even in the face of deep struggle.

Martin Luther participated in this stream, seeing the perversions of the Church of his era and fighting against them, and when they would not listen he helped lead the Church to new forms of gathering, forms in which the people could, once again, find more freedom in their worship and learning.  Yet, there was not an end to corruption or distortion.  The Spirit continued to work, however, leading men and women to find renewal as they explored the fresh paths of the Spirit. Often this involved looking back to those who had walked with God in previous generations. They followed the call to “Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.”[2] In England, a people arose who were known as Puritans, for they sought a refreshed purity in the Church of England.  However, even as many sought with a Spirit-enlightened spark, the church still had not found the full way of light. Errors were made.  People were lost.

The Spirit, however, continued to work, both in those who remained in the Church of England, and in those who Dissented from it.  Susanna Wesley, a daughter of Dissent, returned to the Church of England when she was a young teenager, following a call on her life that led her to a deeper spirituality, and an intimate relationship with a man who also sought God in his return to the Anglican communion.  They had many children, and Susanna saw it as her life mission to help these children learn how to participate with Christ, to truly walk with the Spirit in life and light.  The testimony to Susanna’s faithfulness in Spirit and Truth is seen in her children, the most famous of whom is John Wesley, a man who helped transform people not only in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, but also throughout North America.

It was in England, however, that Wesley’s continued leadership through preaching, teaching, and writing found some of his most treasured growth.  A young Swiss man named John Fletcher was drawn into the Methodist fold, and was soon drawn into John Wesley’s own inner circle, becoming a helper and a friend, and one of the most important interpreters of Wesley’s theology, helping the many tributaries which poured into and out of John Wesley to find even greater cohesion.  They sought perfection, but not perfection as performance. Rather, they sought a perfection that was itself a gift and testimony of the Holy Spirit, a true holiness which was reflected in inner purity and outward actions, a purity that was at its very depths one filled will divine love.

This stream did not stop in the age of Wesley and Fletcher. Their contributions helped to steer others, men and women, towards an even better understanding of the call of God in this world.  Though there were also still temptations and distortions and many mistakes leading particular churches down wrong roads and out of the stream of the call of Christ, there was always a testimony of God’s Spirit in this world, calling and leading, enlightening and empowering.  John Fletcher called this great work of the Spirit in a person the baptism of the Spirit, seeing it as a continual Pentecost that can be experienced in each person, in each generation.

Those in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries understood this to be a true call to the signs of the earliest church, and sought a renewed Pentecost in holiness and healings, tongues and prophesying.  The renewal the Puritans sought in England found new insight in Susanna Wesley, who passed her wisdom to her son John, who was a mentor to John Fletcher, who gave new insights and understanding to men and women of, at first, two continents, and then many.  This is a church that is constantly emerging, finding both renewal and fresh insight in every generation.

This stream of the Spirit continues to pour out even to our day.  Often, as in the beginning, this work of the Spirit is warming hearts in unexpected places and among unexpected people and in unexpected ways.

Supreme eternal being!  Fountain of life and happiness! Vouchsafe to be ever present to the inward sense of my mind. I offer you my heart—take possession by the Holy Spirit for the sake of Jesus Christ.  Amen. Amen.[3]

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[1] Very helpful texts for understanding the context of Wesley, Methodism, and nonconformity in general are the earlier works of  J. Wesley Bready, England, before and after Wesley : The Evangelical Revival and Social Reform (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1938) and  Maldwyn Lloyd Edwards, After Wesley: A Study of the Social and Political Influence of Methodism in the Middle Period (1791-1849) (London: Epworth Press, 1935).  For more contemporary studies see David Hempton, Methodism and Politics in British Society, 1750-1850 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1984); David Hempton, The Religion of the People : Methodism and Popular Religion C. 1750-1900 (New York: Routledge, 1996); David Hempton, Methodism Empire of the Spirit (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005); James E. Bradley, Religion, Revolution, and English Radicalism: Nonconformity in Eighteenth-Century Politics and Society ( New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990); Mark A. Noll, The Rise of Evangelicalism: The Age of Edwards, Whitefield, and the Wesleys, A History of Evangelicalism ; V. 1 (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2003); Patrick Karl O’Brien and Roland E. Quinault, eds., The Industrial Revolution and British Society (New York: Cambridge University Press,1993).

[2] Jeremiah 6:16.

[3] From the journal of Susanna Wesley, in Wallace, Susanna Wesley, 333.

Over the last couple of decades the church in the West has been going through a significant transition away from established assumptions of Christendom in which there are cultural expectations of church involvement. Indeed, this realization has arisen long after the reality in the West has broken down many, if not most, peoples involvement with churches. It became clear that the church in the West was in need of a new stance, a missional stance, in which faithful disciples of Christ no longer waited in sheltered enclaves for outsiders to peek in and join up. This involves a new stance towards involvement in this wider society, bringing the light of Christ out and among the people. This goes well beyond church growth strategies, and may be just the opposite. It also goes well beyond evangelism, as a renewed reading of the Gospels and the whole Scriptures suggest a call to Christ’s followers to be involved with others in significant, holistic ways. With this dawning, missional realization the last couple of decades, and especially the last five or six years, have brought a large number of helpful texts and teachers who are asking significant questions and have helped contribute very useful guidance as those in church continues to stumble its way through this transition. I have read a number of these books, and indeed I’ve begun specializing in these approaches, focusing my attention on the impact on deeper aspects of theology that comes along with this renewed embrace of a holistic discipleship. I’ve been involved in churches, and I’m now working on an advanced degree in theological studies and church history. It is with all this practical and theoretical involvement behind me that I come to this book.

And with this all in mind, I consider Untamed: Reactivating a Missional Form of Discipleship (Shapevine) to be the best book on contemporary missional theology and practice I’ve read.

I do not say this lightly, nor do I say this with a predisposition to freely applauding the many missional books that have been written. Most, for me, have offered useful ideas but each seems to have at least one major flaw that keeps me from being wholeheartedly supportive–and often leads me to grumbling. Indeed, this grumbling of what I read over the years was a big factor in me going back to pursue more study of theology in its ancient and contemporary expressions. I was not finding anything that seemed to be truly balanced in reflecting Christ’s call in our lives.

Untamed finds this balance. This is not to say Untamed is the last word on missional theology. Indeed, I would say the opposite. Instead, in Untamed Alan and Deb Hirsch have combined their practical experience in a variety of very missional settings with their deep considerations on life with God to provide what I see as an extremely helpful, constructive starting place for continued development of practices and of theology that reflects more deeply on these practices. A lot of missional books are filled with angst or worry or point to questions without leading to substantive answers. Untamed, however, moves past this and points towards significant points of orientation that allow a renewing, freeing life in community with Christ and others.

Two points stand out especially to me, though there are many, many others worth noting. The first is the Hirsch’s perspective on holiness which embraces the idea of holiness in a renewed way, one that acknowledges this call of God in our lives as it is reflected in Scripture. The Holy God is not the distant God, but the one who lived among us, walked in the streets, runs towards us, died for us. The holiness of God embraces humanity, seeking us, yearning for us to find our whole identity in him, and in doing this freeing us to become truly who we were made to be. The second emphasis, so utterly rare in these types of books, is the specific discussion of the Holy Spirit. This discussion renews a perspective on the Spirit who is God’s power and presence with us, bringing us each to wholeness with God and in community. By bringing in the Holy Spirit to the discussion, the Hirsch’s avoid the oft common works-oriented demands of so many ministry books that emphasis a call of God, then pressure the reader to perform. Instead, the Hirsch’s are at every point, beginning to the end, emphasizing the work of God who empowers us, freeing us, inviting us to join in this work as we are empowered and led by the Spirit. This creates a refreshing renewal of theology and practice that does not put a heavy weight on already tired souls, but instead delights as it points to how we can best live in the new reality that God brings to our lives in this world.

If I were to recommend one book of missional theology–or indeed one book on living the life Christ calls us to live in this present context–I would point to Untamed as being a the book to start with. It refreshes as it reorients, it enlightens as it challenges, it brings new perspective to old stories, all while staying more faithful to the whole testimony of Scripture than most any ministry book I’ve ever read. And it does this while being immensely readable.

Get this book. Share it with your friends. Read it through to get a sense of the whole, then read it through more slowly and reflect on each point, using the Hirsch’s insights to help ignite your own study of Scripture, your own personal relationship with the Triune God, and your participation in the community of God’s people. This is not a definitive, comprehensive work. It’s a starting place. But it’s starting us with a holistic, wonderful, renewing perspective on God’s grand work in this world. Something we all should study and develop more, each in our own settings.

One of the biggest questions in any discussion on the church has to do with authority. In fact, I would say that this is the biggest question of all.

Maybe this isn’t the biggest question about what we know about God, but it certainly is the most pressing in how we understand what it means to be formed as a community. It affects how we understand church history and schisms. How we understand present issues of church growth and new expressions of church experience. Indeed, I would say that it is precisely the issue of authority that most defines the emerging churches as being emerging churches.

And maybe, now that I think about it, the issue of authority strikes right back at our core understanding of who God is, his nature, his approach to this world, his understanding of community.

I would also say that it is the issue of authority that is probably the most radical aspect of my own theology.

Who is in charge of our relationship with God? And connected with this is another question. How do we know we are connected with the people of God?

The classic answer was through apostolic succession. The leadership of Jesus was passed on through the disciples, which was passed on to the key leaders after their death, which was passed on down the generations. The authority of the church is found in this mantle of leadership, which is embodied by the present bishops of the historic churches. Those of the Roman Catholic church see this apostolic succession primarily derived from Peter, and his particular leadership in the early church. Those in the Orthodox community are not so limited, nor as interested in propping up the leadership of one particular city. The earliest churches formed by various disciples become central areas of leadership, but other churches, in other countries can become established by this apostolic succession and then pass on the mantle of leadership. This line of apostolicity defines the line of the church, and so to participate in the church one aligns with this apostolic structure that has been passed from hand to head, down through the generations, across the continents, in an unbroken succession of anointed leaders. The authority of the church is the church, one might say.

Now, I respect those who hold this view. Some of the finest Christians now and in history have held this view. Some dear friends are in agreement with this view and so I’ve been pressed to examine again and again my own perspectives.

Yet, I still, increasingly, come back to the position this is wrong. And that pretty much explains why, despite my long standing flirtation, I could never be a part of the Orthodox church. Because I respect their position, but cannot come to agreement on this issue. Which pretty much tosses me out of their communion.

For most folks this is not a big deal. Not being Orthodox or Catholic is a sensible position. However, my coming to terms with the issue of authority doesn’t stop on the edges of Rome or Constantinople. It presses on, as I’ve seen how churches across the spectrum hold to what is basically the same understanding of authority. They just replace who they think is in charge.

I think this is going to be a continued exploration on my part–coinciding with my not unrelated occasional series on an outsiders history of the emerging church. For now, let me hit one of my major issues on this topic.

Jewish backgrounds.

In the Old Testament who is the spiritual leader? How is spiritual leadership passed on? Who defines who is part of the people of God and who is not? Maybe we can say the priests, but I don’t think that’s accurate. The priests served in a liturgical role, not a gate-keeping role. They could rule on unclean and clean based on a divinely mandated set of rules, but they were not themselves bearers of any authority over identity. Maybe prophets. They anointed and spoke on God’s behalf. But they followed God’s lead. And there was not a succession of prophetic authority, rather God raised up who he would raise up.

We might say the kings exhibit an example of succession in the Old Testament. However, it’s pretty dangerous to define Israel by the line of the kings. Even when there was a line based on family, God still continually mucked up the system, judged as he would, kicked some out and brought others in. Up to the time he said, “no more” and ended the line of visible kings. Yet, even still the line of David was promised eternal rule. And the line of David was fulfilled in the person of Jesus. Who was, as Hebrews so nicely tells us, our high priest. In the order of Melchizedek. A servant of God. A man without lineage.

Succession was based on God’s work. The lines of official succession meant very little. God chose who he chose, cast off who he would cast off, and moved as he would move. Raising up leaders, and prophets, and scholars along the way. The people of God were maintained by the direct work of God in the generations, gathered together under a common confession, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”

Jesus chose who he would chose, true disciples. They were outside the leadership of Israel, part of the people of God but not a particularly special part. They were the ones who left their nets, their tables, their crafts to follow this man, learn from him, risk for him, pray and study and gather together. They were the ones who the Spirit came upon and empowered for service. They were born again, resurrected in this life.

So, with this in mind, it becomes quite difficult for me to say that even as God did not work in succession in Israel, that he deposed kings and priests and prophets, he uniquely empowered the untrained and powerless, that he would do a different kind of work–an unprecedented approach–all without being explicitly clear about what he was intending for his continued church. All while saying it was the Spirit who grants gifts, and power, and authority–even if human authority doesn’t agree.

And this granting of authority, in the pattern of faith and Spirit God uses throughout the whole of Scripture, radically affects my perspective on the present authority in the church.

Which means there’s a lot more still to say…

I recorded the Emergent Moltmann conversation this past week using my livescribe pen. I still have mixed feelings about the livescribe, as it is on the cusp of being extremely useful and worthwhile, but is undermined by the manufacturer’s limits on how it can be shared. To post the notes with the audio you have to use their livescribe community website which is, to say the least, very unreliable and limiting. It doesn’t export Flash at all, not in any usable way.

My notes link the audio to basic text and themes. Which would be helpful. Since I can’t post that, I can at least post the audio portions of the Moltmann conversation. I hope to add some more detailed thoughts in the near future, but for those of you who want the whole, raw conversation here they are. Tony Jones mentioned he is wanting to get a podcast of the conversation up as well, which would be a lot more clean audio. But for now… here’s this.

Session 1: Mostly this is Doug Pagitt giving an introduction to the Conversation and giving a presentation on the Emerging side of things.

Session 2: Moltmann talking about his life and theology.

Session 3: Moltmann speaking about his theological method. The end of this one has a great lightening round in which a major name is mentioned and Moltmann gives a 1 or 2 sentence response–which gave very interesting insight into his perspective, sometimes funny.

Session 4: Moltmann speaking on themes related to his Crucified God, which includes aspects of his understanding of atonement and eschatology.

Session 5: The sessions from this last day were more random, basically being more scattered questions. But the answers weren’t scattered. Indeed, in this session Moltmann gets to some very interesting points on the contingency of God, original sin, and other important theological themes.

Session 6: More unconnected questions, this time touching on more controversial and personal issues.

I’m continuing my story on the emerging church, but for now there’s a really interesting addition now available.

Earlier this summer, my friend Eric Herron and I sat down with Aaron Klinefelter of the Praxis Podcast. We chatted for about an hour about emerging/missional church stuff and our own projects that seem to come out of it.

Just was posted online. Have a listen: Praxis Podcast Episode #41: Patrick Oden & Eric Herron

This last Sunday I spoke at my foster church, Two Rivers Church in Milwaukie, Oregon. I call it my foster church because I’ve felt more welcomed and invited to participate there than any other church, but really it’s Amy’s church–the church she led worship at from its founding until I married her and brought her south.

We were back up there for a very busy extended weekend, and she was invited to lead worship once again. I was invited to preach. I was fairly overwhelmed through the beginning of this summer and didn’t have time to think about anything else. I almost begged off. But it occurred to me that the best thing I could do was probably the easiest: convert my recent 37 page paper on holiness to a preachable length and style. Not just best for me… I think it’s the most useful thing I have to say right now.

So, I did that. Got it down to about 12 pages, and took out the more egregious academia. Amy helped me out by reading some verses throughout the sermon–verses that relate, but were not specifically developed.

You can have a listen to that sermon, if you’d like. Two Rivers posted it on their website. It’s a Flash site, and I’m not sure how to give a specific link to the file. But, go to their page, click on the sermon tab, then click on 7/5/2009 “Holy”. That’s me!

Over at Kingdom Grace a challenge was given to present the Gospel in 140 characters, a proper Twitter length. I don’t Twitter. Seems silly to me, and honestly the new form of ‘podcasts’ that everyone is into until they realize no one else really cares. Twitter is too much frenzy for me.

Still it’s a bit of a challenge. I thought I’d have a go at it. But in my post-Pannenberg presentation muddle, I read characters, but thought words, not even thinking of the obviously length of that which totally undermines the whole point of Twitter.

But, 140 words is interesting too. I had a go at both 140 words and a 140 characters, coming up with two for each.

Here’s my attempts at a super succinct Gospel:

In 122 words:

Be whole. Jesus came to show us how. More than that. The frenzy of sin was the reason he died. He absorbed the sin, didn’t let it beat him. Rose again. So can you. There’s a new way now. The way of Christ.

You can see what it means to be whole, truly be yourself in freedom from all that seeks to ruin you.

You can see it, and you can live it, in the power of life itself. The Spirit of God joins with us as we participate with God in the fullness of whole life. Jesus took on the sin that distracts us, destroys us, deadens us. We’re not slaves to fear or faults. We’re free. We’re free. We’re free!

In 138 words:

God made humanity. Humanity thought they could be whole without God. But life, life itself, is only from God. Our attempts to find an identity in what we do, or who we do, or what we have never leads to peace. Because we can’t be our real self without God who empowers us—freeing us to live in fullness with him, with others.

That false pursuit of life is sin. Empties us. Undermines us. God saw. Ran towards us because he loves us. Jesus was born a man. Took on the sin that undermines everyone, took on the death that takes everyone. He rose again. Now is alive, a sign and power that God seeks us all with all he has. The Spirit of God is with us now, seeking our fullness and wholeness. Seeking to free us.

Here’s my evangelistic Gospel in 109 characters:

Be whole. Jesus came to show us how. More than that. His dying, his rising, gives us the ability to be whole, to be who we really can be.

Here’s the theological one in 140 characters:

God made man. Man tried to be God. Didn’t work. Still tries. That’s sin. God loves. Sent Jesus. Jesus died. Jesus lives. Overcame the sin that we might live with God. Yay!

Sorry about the gender non-neutrality. Man is just a shorter word than humanity.

The Yay at the end is my ecclesiology and eschatology.

All the stuff left out of these brief comments? Doesn’t mean I don’t believe it. Just didn’t fit it in the space I had to work with.

I have a tendency to go on and on about preliminary observations but not get to my actual main comments.

So, before the day is done I’m going to go ahead and make my post about at least one of the sessions.

Erwin McManus, pastor of Mosaic in Los Angeles and one of the main folks putting together the Origins network. Here are my notes, mixed with my commentary then and now:

Does what I’m doing matter? That’s a big question. Use of time and effort and energy. In this time of transition, transition of seemingly all of society, including the church, is what I’m doing matter?

How do we tweak the transition so what is done is done in a way that matters.

He reads Acts 17:16ff.

While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols. So he argued in the synagogue with the Jews and the devout persons, and also in the marketplace every day with those who happened to be there. Also some Epicurean and Stoic philosophers debated with him. Some said, “What does this babbler want to say?” Others said, “He seems to be a proclaimer of foreign divinities.” (This was because he was telling the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.) So they took him and brought him to the Areopagus and asked him, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? It sounds rather strange to us, so we would like to know what it means.” 21 Now all the Athenians and the foreigners living there would spend their time in nothing but telling or hearing something new.

The city was full of idols, McManus points out. So what does Paul do? Goes to the synagogue, talks to the already religious people.

McManus sees this as a cognitive dissonance, a contrast of goals and methods. I disagree with him. I think Paul followed a plan and was being led by the Spirit to do what he did. Paul wasn’t limited to a particular audience at this point. Nor was his message safe in any place. In a city filled with crime one might ask the police what they are doing. In a city filled with idols one might go and talk to those who are against idolatry, talking, listening, learning… indeed arguing. Paul was pretty sharp, and probably a bit beyond too much criticism as to his missional instincts.

McManus is making a particular point, however, and while I don’t think this passage in Acts was the best example (and maybe I heard his use of it wrong–that’s quite possible), he has good points to make.

And this is where the discussion of the three spaces comes up. This wasn’t new for me, as I’ve sat and heard others talk about this, and talked about it with others, McManus added some interesting texture.

First place. This is where I had to laugh at myself. After my comment before about seeing the guy looking at the bird and beach and sailing pictures I said there’s a guy I could be friends with. “There’s just something about him.”

It’s easy to be friends with people just like us. We like people who are just like us. People like us when we’re like them and they’re like us. We get each other. We’re comfortable. We share interests and we view the world the same way.

Churches are quite easily these kinds of places, especially in the buffet of churches we can choose from, picking among those we just fit with, so we can sit and interact feeling comforted by a lot of us gathered together talking about Him. This isn’t an evil, per se. Churches have a place, and a home, a first place where we invite others in to join us in our space, are natural human response.

The first place is the place of authority, of power, of comfort, of safety. The religious place.

The second place is the place we go out into as neutral ground. The marketplace. The place we work, the place others work. People are allowed to argue, to have opinions, to come from different backgrounds and expectations. The law says so. No discrimination. It’s not necessarily a free place, but in a way it is because the restriction itself forces us out of the place of power and comfort. Far too often Christians have sought to pull people out of these places, to pluck men and women out of the marketplace and put them into leadership in the first place, the church. We invite people from the second place to the first, so we can then get control and influence over them.

However, what if we were to maintain our relevance in the second place, excelling in our places so we become models and symbols of God’s life in us. We live the hope that is in us by living the life we are called to live, wherever we are called. We are called, as McManus says, to maintain relevance in the second place. Christianity that removes people from ‘the world’ is not the Christianity of Christ who came into the world to save the world. We like to make converts and then encourage them to disincarnate. We remove ourselves from life as most people know it to find safety in the pseudo-kingdom of the Christian bubble.

The third place is the place of gathering. Where others meet, not for a demanded cause or necessity, but because of some other voluntary choice. In these places we have no power, no inherent authority, no real control. We can’t force our way in and expect people to listen or care about our message. We can be invited. We can be humble, letting go what we think we are owed, and become incarnations in these places. We can have the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus. We can be a presence, and with that presence find conversation, friendship, camaraderie, respect flowing naturally as human community is good at, trusting that the Spirit who is working in us is working in this world. The Spirit who has called us, who fills us with Christ, is after all the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ, the Holy Spirit who seeks the lost. The Spirit is the missionary who we follow. People aren’t looking for apologetics or encyclopedic knowledge, as McManus puts it. They are looking for presence. Most people are quite open to God, but they’re not open to manipulation or artificial interactions with ulterior motives. Even if we think we have a good cause, the cause is not furthered by pushing people away from God because of our own angst filled desires to make us feel like we’re about God’s work. It’s not works righteousness after all. We live in grace, we respond in grace, we walk with God in his work, trusting him to work. We called to show up, to be a presence, to be someone who listens and who, in the ripe moments, responds to questions asked and opportunities given–just as Jesus did.

We live life. We live life with God, and we live life among other people. We live life this way we bring God into spaces, not out of proselytizing fervor. Out of a love that loves as God loves, a patience that is patient as God is patient, a hope that hopes with God’s eternal hope. We live. We let others live as they will live. We are there to walk with the Spirit and be a light, as a light is needed.

This requires a deep spirituality, of course, something a lot of people are too impatient to find–to the detriment of all the spaces.

We live a life that deserves to be heard and people begin to listen and wonder and ask. Everyone, McManus says, has a potential created by God, yearned for by God, asked for by God, to enliven them. We can be bearers of this message of life. If we are able to truly see, truly “be there”, and speak the words that God is speaking in each moment. That’s a hope for people, not a hope for power.

To reach the third space, however, all too often (maybe always) a person has to give up popularity in the first space. We have to talk with those who are rejected and speak of God in ways that is uncomfortable. This isn’t heresy, this is Spirituality. Jesus was condemned for being a babbler, a drunkard, a glutton, who ate with sinners, tax collectors and lepers. He utterly rejected the charges religious people put against him, saying that those who called him a heretic, a blasphemer, did not themselves know the God they sought to serve.

And that’s the danger and challenge. We have to let go trying to fit in all spaces if we want to fit in the spaces God seeks us to be and is working. If we want to be God’s light in the third space we let go illusions of grandeur and safety in the first places.

That’s a huge statement. And a huge challenge. And a huge call.

McManus followed this up by saying, “They follow you, and learn to follow your identity, because they do not yet know God’s identity.”

That’s true. But that’s a bit troubling to me. Because no matter how much we know God, no matter how solid we are, we don’t have enough identity to give anything to others. The search for identity can only find sustenance and satisfaction in the Spirit, who is the bringer of whole life. I’m troubled a bit by this because the handing over of identity, and taking it up, is just about the most common reality in churches. That’s why pastors have so much power. People see their identity in their pastor, and pastors feed off the identity of their followers. Everyone loses, because no one, not even the pastor, is tapping into God.

We have to point always to God, letting people go away from us as they seek God’s work in their lives. Otherwise hierarchy and authoritarianism once again rule, grieving the Spirit.

And that’s my thoughts on this first Origins session.

As I mentioned yesterday, live-blogging the actual sessions didn’t work out. Some of the rooms had no internet access, and the others had rows of chairs that made typing onto a laptop a particular silliness.

But I took notes, and while my notes are not entirely coherent I’ll try to piece together the vague intended prompts I jotted down and see what comes up. There were five sessions total yesterday. Erwin McManus led the main session in the morning then the conference broke up into five different forums, each with three speakers. Erwin McManus led the ending session. Going to a particular forum did not commit a person for the day. I started off with the Pioneers, listened to Dave Gibbons and Dan Kimball, then wandered over to the explorers to hear Alan and Deb Hirsch.

Here are my now likely congealed notes from the opening session, or at least my attempt to make them somewhat palatable for the blog. Before Erwin McManus spoke there were assorted other introductory announcements, and other typical entertain the troops sort of stuff. I’ll start with these, and then work my way later into the actual lectures.

“Be Here”

That was the admonishment that was included with the opening comments. Preceded by more lively “can I hear you” sort of crowd wrangling and followed by announcements and such.

Be here. In an age of blogging, and twitter, and blackberries, we have a hard time being where we are at. We all have those friends who spend wherever they are at, whoever they are with, always somewhere else with someone else–texting, cell-talking, whatever.

We are never actually here.

So, when the call was made to ‘be here’ I appreciated that. There are relationships, insights, experiences that cannot be replicated, and if in our desire to process and share we are never ‘here’ we never really are alive. Amy has mentioned one problem she has with the scrapbooking world is the fact they are always about making the scrapbook about the experiences, so much so the scrapbook yet to be is always present, but the present is never itself present.

Pastors have this bad too. They are often always elsewhere, looking past the person in front of them. Looking around. It’s a frenzy of sorts, a technological acedia where nothing matters except what is elsewhere. The consequence, of course, is the loss of real contemplation, of real absorption, of indeed real spirituality. Jesus was marked quite clearly by truly being present. He was incarnation, and not just as a theological assertion. He was incarnated into each moment, each location, truly present in a way that truly acknowledged whoever was with him. People were alive and real and valued.

“Be here.”

I found it hard to be there, honestly, in the focus on enjoying the moment sort of way. I had that outsider perspective I mentioned yesterday. But this call hit me and I tried to ‘be there’ as much as I could.

This focusing, this getting people to realize their location and purpose was, in true churchy fashion, followed immediately by an improv comedy troupe who, after asking questions from the audience, decided to improv a skit on married love while at a Washington Nationals baseball game. Yes, I know. Extremely fitting for our immediate context. It was well done, but more in a clapping sort of way than a laughing. Mood breaker #1.

Following this there was video, a documentary type video about an artist focusing on “water art”. Well, mock documentary. It was making fun of pretentious creative explorations that seem to be so common. Ha ha. It’s an emerging/missional conference… ha-ha artists are dumb! Not like us pastors with our wit and snappy ways of talking that everyone finds so important and charming!

Next there was music, a woman with a guitar on a stool, next to a man with a guitar also on a stool. She sang.

I’ve been spoiled. Amy is really good at that sort of thing. Amy has friends who are really good at that sort of thing. I thought the singer was good but a bit too affected for my tastes, too much voice modulation seeking after the edgy angsty songwriter style. Too… intentional about it. I’m not a much of a music critic though, so I’ll bow to those with better sensibilities.

Found out that this all was contributions by folks from Mosaic, a sort of intro to the world we were about to hear about.

After this, Erwin McManus came up and began to talk. I’ll get to my notes about him in the next post. For now, I’ll just add that, for whatever reason, his style and delivery reminded me quite a bit of Jeff Goldblum. I’d never noticed that before.