Worldly Woes for Christian Leaders

I just rediscovered this short article that I wrote back in 2003, trying to take seriously Jesus’ call for his followers to be radical in their “leadership” style.

Here is how it begins:

There are certain ways of ‘making it’ as a leader in Christian circles. There are certain, almost expected, ways for church leaders to attain a desirable level of respect and honour.

Let me guide you through the process, step-by-step:

1. Establish a teaching ministry where there is distance between yourself and the people that you’re teaching. The distance gives your hearers the impression that you have a complete grasp of your subject, and that you don’t need their help in practising what you preach.
2. Allow yourself to be made an example for others in terms of your successes—how people have come to the Lord through your ministry, or whatever success it is.
3. Gladly accept honoured treatment from other Christians—when they are introducing you as a speaker, for example: “So-and-so spent 14 years doing such-and-such, during which time his congregation grew significantly in numbers and maturity. He’s well-known as a speaker, and has vast experience in the area about which he speaks to us this evening.”
4. Make the most of honourable titles, depending on your particular tradition—Father, Reverend, Worship Leader, Pastor …

I wonder if this process is not out of the ordinary among Christian leaders. And I wonder if Jesus Christ is displeased…

The whole article is here

“I have no need of you”: Are theologians the body’s eyes?

The metaphor of a multi-membered body was used by Plato, Aristotle, and many others, to depict a properly ordered and well-functioning society.  So the image of the church as a body of interdependent members was not entirely Paul’s own invention in 1 Corinthians 12-14.  But it’s interesting to see that for Paul, those parts of the body that appear most important are actually not to be over-valued:

If they were all one member, where would the body be?  But in fact there are many members, but one body.  And the eye is not able to say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” or the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”  (1 Cor 12)

This is worth hearing in contrast to Philo’s use of the same imagery:

Philo: The Special Laws LXII, 340

Thus while each of the other bodily members [sōmatos merōn] is present for a suitable and absolutely necessary use – such as the feet for walking and running and the other activities for which feet are suited, and hands for doing things and giving and receiving – the eyes are, as it were, for the common good, enabling the successful operation of these members and all the others.

In fact, Paul’s point is echoed in a story by Aesop – via Dio Chrysostom:

Dio Chrysostom: Thirty-Third Discourse: The First Tarsic Discourse

But something must have happened to you like that which Aesop says was suffered by the eyes.  For, although they supposed themselves to be the most worthy bodily parts, they observed that the mouth gained pleasure from most things, and especially, honey, which is the sweetest.  So they became angry and blamed the human [of which they were part].  But when that human placed honey on them, they hurt and cried, and found it to be stinging and unpleasant.

So anyway, I’ve been pondering lately: Might Christian theologians be thought of as the “eyes” of the body?  They are certainly “presentable”, to use Paul’s imagery, being in a position to debate and articulate the things that churches hold dear.  And if this is the case - if academic theologians might be thought of as the “eyes” of the body - I wonder if we’re sometimes tempted to get carried away with Philo’s reasoning above (“the eyes are the most important”) rather than Paul’s reasoning (“the eyes are not independent”).  Just a ponderance…

Why did Paul insist that he had told them everything?

An interesting point came up in the sermon on Acts 19-20 today: Why did Paul go overboard in insisting that he had told the Ephesian elders the whole counsel of God and not held back anything at all?  Because “false teaching” invariably begins by implying that the apostolic gospel is insufficient: “If you want to have REALLY full Christian life…”

Interesting thought…

Glory and Shame in Wittenberg

The weekend trip to Germany was great – and the chance to look around Wittenberg was really worthwhile.  Here are three pictures that display the glory and shame of the period associated with this immensely influential town:

The first picture is of the (rebuilt) church where Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses to the door back in 1517, thus beginning the Protestant Reformation.  It was beautiful, covered by snow.  We also visited Lutherhaus and Melanchthonhaus, which were full of Reformation treasures…

The second picture is taken inside the Stadtkirche – the main church of Wittenberg, in which Luther frequently preached.  The picture depicts Luther preaching “Christ, and him crucified” to the people of God…

And now for the shame: I was astonished to find out about this feature, which is on the outside of the very same Stadtkirche: It depicts “the Jews” suckling on a pig, and licking its behind.  What an ugly reminder of the anti-Semitism that marrs Luther’s legacy…

Singing Psalms

I have been tagged with a meme, for which the instructions are:

In an effort to keep it simple, short, and easy to follow, I’d like to challenge you to quote one verse (not one chapter). And then say what the Lord has been teaching you in one sentence (not one paragraph). Then tag 5 peeps (you know the drill).

Before I get to my verse, I want to present a challenge of my own – to those who are involved with planning church services: Help your congregation to grow into its identity as the people of Jesus Christ by getting them to say/sing Psalms together.  I think there is real value here: As we say, or preferably sing, certain psalms, we are corporately entering into the experience of the Anointed One, engaging with his alienation and persecution, sharing his hope for vindication, learning his dependence on God, voicing his joy and praise of God the Father…

Growing up, I was scared of praying certain psalms, because they just didn’t sound like things I could genuinely pray: “if you test me, you will find no wickedness in me” etc…  But as Christians, we need to pray these Psalms, conscious that being Christian means being in Christ.  That’s why everything we pray, we pray “in Jesus’ name”.  So as we who are in Christ sing these sorts of Psalms, we are both reminding ourselves of who he is, and reminding ourselves of that to which we are called to conform.

Anyway, with that background, my choice is Psalm 17, verse 8:

Guard me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Sound enticing?  Sing it with the people of God. 

And that’s the way I’d like to pass on this meme: I tag everyone involved in planning/leading church services: Get the people to sing/say a psalm together, and let us know how it goes…

a tale of two men

Just now I was sitting down in a grassed area reading my book, when something happened that forced me to put down my Hegel (actually any excuse will do) and leave – it wasn’t a bad thing that happened; it was a good thing, but it totally distracted me: A man came and sat down and started eating sandwiches.  I used to eat sandwiches that my mum made for me in primary school – but I still recall one occasion – aged about 8 – when I was too embarrassed to bring my sandwiches with me to the playing area, and threw them in the bin… and then besides being hungry, I felt absolutely dreadful – like I’d let my mum down and could do nothing to fix the fact.  Maybe that was in the background when I was watching this man eating sandwiches, and maybe that’s why I was so distracted – he just looked so utterly happy, sitting in a grassy field, enjoying the sunny outdoors, and enjoying what looked like delicious sandwiches that had perhaps been made for him.  For some reason my mind instantly saw in this man the church – happily enjoying the bread of life… looking at him, it was hard to imagine time better spent.

 

Then my mind went to one other memory I have – well actually it’s not a memory; it’s a recurring daydream – the saddest thought I ever have: it’s just an old man, in an utterly quiet, impeccably clean cottage, carefully washing up his cup and saucer.  I don’t know anything about him – no one knows his name… he just stands at the sink with his wrinkled, expressionless face fixed on the empty cup in his hands.  I don’t know why, but this image is just chilling to me – so quiet, so empty, so stupidly pointless.  For the first time, as I was thinking about this man today, I saw in him the world – busily accomplishing something, but tinged with a certain… I don’t know what.

 

Then I wondered what would happen if these two men were to meet…  Was that a flicker of embarrassment I saw in the sandwich-man’s eyes?  “Don’t worry mate,” I whispered… “I know of a certain bin….”