Changing People's Assumptions

"Evangelism is all about changing people's assumptions"

Scott Dudley, the senior pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Belleuve, WA wrote those words in a recent article about evangelism in the Northwest.  I like the way he phrased that statement, and I agree that so much of what we are called to do as a church is help people re-think what they assume about church, Jesus, and mission.  The church is being called to present the gospel in ways that people aren't expecting.

One of my core convictions as a pastor and leader is that we live in a post-Christian world.  We talked about this last night in our "Generation to Generation" class; whereas many people who were born before 1950 grew up in a world where - generally speaking - people had heard about Jesus and were most likely part of a church, in today's world that is definitely not the case.  I just read a magazine article which presented the statistic that the percentage of Americans who identify themselves as church-going Protestants is now the same percentage as those who claim no religious affiliation - about 20-21% for both groups.

We may not live in a culture which is outrightly hostile to the church or to the gospel, but we do have a challenge in front of us.  Our friends and neighbors who do not identify with a particular kind of faith are looking to us to make sense of what we believe about Jesus.  If it's important to us to follow Jesus, our friends do actually care about it because they care about us.  The gospel hasn't changed - people are broken, God is merciful and just, and Jesus came to rescue all of creation - but the means by which we share it and help others make sense of it must faithfully adapt (under the authority of Scripture) to the time we live in.

If you've heard one of my sermons or spent any time with me, you'll recognize these themes.  They're some of the key convictions I have about life and ministry.  And I'm certainly not the only person trying to get the word out that we live in a post-Christian world.  But I will admit that this task is hard and complicated in everyday life.

I went to lunch earlier this week with someone I'd never met before - a friend of a friend.  We met just to hang out and get to know each other, and we had a couple of common points of connection.  When I asked him about where he went to college, he told me that he'd attended a private school which was closely connected to the church tradition in which he was raised.

Now hit the pause button.  That was a perfect opportunity for me to ask questions and listen to what that background meant to him, to hear some of his faith journey, or to learn something about a tradition I don't know well.

But I didn't ask.  I didn't hit the pause button.  I just nodded my head and didn't explore the subject further.

Maybe that was a good move.  It was our first time hanging out, and I didn't want to rush into a conversation that might make my new friend uncomfortable.  I doubt it would, but maybe.  It was the only time he brought up faith in our conversation, so it certainly didn't appear to be a pressing issue for him.

Don't worry - I'm certainly not beating myself up over a 'missed opportunity.'  That attitude presumes that I won't see this guy again or ever have the chance to grow deeper in friendship, which is a short-sighted assumption to say the least.

But I do want to explore those subjects with people.  More and more, I'm learning to ask questions and listen as a first priority in conversations with others.  I'm willing to talk about myself, but I'm choosing to defer to them to start things out.  And you know what?  I like it.  Conversations are more fruitful and interesting.  And in the case of this new friend of mine, I'm confident that the chance to explore faith together will happen because the Spirit is in charge.  Jesus is working in my life and in his life and in our community, and the day will come when those connections are made.  I'm looking forward to the next time when I can explore faith again with my new friend.

Solo Dei gloria,

Travis

PS - I just finished reading an excellent book - Troubled Minds: Mental Health and the Church's Mission by Amy Simpson.  I'd highly recommend it.

The Cutting Room Floor

Most of the times I've written a sermon, I leave quite a bit of material out of the final manuscript.  Just because I've written something doesn't mean it's great.  :)  From time to time, I'll post some of it here on the blog.  The chunk below was taken out of this past week's sermon on Luke 19:1-10.

One of my neighbors stopped by our house the other day.  She’s a mom of two great kids who are a bit older than Will.  I told her about a semi-traumatic event at our home: our very first attempt at cutting Will’s hair with a home-haircut kit.  She laughed knowingly when I told her about his fear at the sound of the trimmer, his tears, and our distress as still-green parents wondering if we made a good decision in purchasing this kit.  She was encouraging and said that one of the things that helped her kids not be afraid of the trimmer when she tried home haircuts was having one of their peers come over and have their hair cut.  Just by watching something happen to one of their friends, she said, her kids immediately felt better about having the same thing happen to them.

What if Zacchaeus’ story brought his peers – tax collectors and sinners – from death to life?  What if all it took was one of their peers seeing his total transformation – making a difference not just in his spiritual life but in his financial and emotional life, too – and they wanted that same thing for themselves?  Jesus was already  known as a friend of sinners – Luke 7:34 – so this event with Zacchaeus could have taken his credibility to the next level.  To make a difference.  To help someone else learn that they are incredibly significant in the eyes of God.  To treat them the way God thinks they deserve to be treated – which is exactly what Zacchaeus says he will do when he promises to give away his money and try to fix the damage he’s done to other people.  Acceptance through the gospel always leads to change on Christ’s terms.

  Shalom,

Travis

T.H.I.N.K.

I saw this sign taped to a kitchen cabinet at a friends' house. 

I printed a copy of this photo to hang in my office.

Shalom,

Travis

This Is Broncos Country!

I don’t get a lot of notes in my mailbox at church.  When I do, they’re usually pretty entertaining.  This past week – before the Super Bowl – a hand-written note showed up one day, and all it said was:

“This is Broncos Country!  You live in Colorado now.  Time to cheer for the right team.  Go Broncos!”

This person was wise to the fact that my wife and I cheer for the Seahawks, whose coronation as world champions of football just happened Sunday night amid the scenic vistas of East Rutherford, New Jersey.  And yes, we were definitely cheering for our team last night, but not in the way some (like the note-writer) might expect.

By the way – I was disinclined to follow his advice. 

Here’s why: moving to a new place is disorienting, to say the least.  We moved from the very green (and often grey) Pacific Northwest to the arid beauty of western Colorado’s browns and blue skies.  Regardless of color change, the last thing a devoted sports fan will do is simply adopt the native team in their new location.  Sports is about loyalty, not about jumping on the bandwagon.

A lot of nice people said a lot of Broncos-positive comments on Sunday morning of the Super Bowl.  Some anticipated a Seahawks loss and said so.  No problem for the Fletchers; that kind of talk is just going to happen when your team makes it to the big game.  As Seahawks fans in non-Seattle territory, we’ve learned to be respectful and keep our enthusiasm to ourselves.  Again, this part of being a sports fan; you show respect to the team where you live by keeping your loyalty to the team you really love, remembering that the natives’ team is just as beloved as your own.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Once game-time rolled around, our family met up with a friends at – of course – a very Bronco-friendly location.  Again, no big deal.  Jill and I agreed that we would cheer for our team in subtle ways to show respect to our hosts.  And for the most part, I think we succeeded.  You’d have to ask our hosts if we were civil enough to warrant an invitation to next year’s Super Bowl.

Then the long-awaited moment arrived, and the game began with a bang.  It was exhilarating.  We were thrilled to see the Seahawks play at such a high level of excellence, and yet, we were also aware of the grey blanket of sadness quickly covering over the rest of the room.  Our Broncos-loving friends were silent after the safety 12 seconds into the game.  They were deflated by the interceptions, the spot-on tackles, and the ever-growing sense that victory was slipping like sand through their team’s fingers.  That’s a terrible feeling as a sports fan.  I watched my beloved Texas Longhorns play a perfect football season in 2009 only to be obliterated by Alabama in the painful national title game.  It’s a feeling in your gut that you just can’t shut off, and we knew our friends were in the midst of that on Sunday.

After the game, a Seattle friend of mine pointed out that the Broncos actually did show up to play.  They were prepared and well-coached.  They have a living legend as their quarterback.  It’s just that they hadn’t faced a defense playing at the level of the Seahawks all season.  Back here in Grand Junction, our friends – along with the rest of Broncos nation – were disappointed and hurt by the lopsided game we all witnessed.  But I think they’d probably agree with my friend’s assessment.  Of course, that doesn’t make the hurt go away.  As sports fans, my family and I certainly felt a sense of empathy for our friends dressed in orange and blue, both Sunday night and this week as the SportsCenter highlight reels rolled and commentators began to pick both teams apart.

I’m proud to say that as Seahawks fans, we love Colorado and love our Broncos friends.  That’s why we kept our cool on Sunday night – and will hopefully continue to do that throughout the weeks and months and years to come.  As exciting as it was to see Russell Wilson lift the Lombardi trophy over his head amid a huge cumulus cloud of green and blue confetti, we held our cheers until we were in the car, driving away from our friends’ house into the cold, cold night. 

Someone in town was shooting off fireworks.