Thoughts on Alan Roxburgh’s “The Sky is Falling”

I’m headed out of town today for a Company of New Pastors retreat where we’ll be discussing Alan Roxburgh’s book The Sky is Falling.  Despite being a church-planter, it’s been a while since I’ve read one of these “the world is changing and we have to become missional before the Church dies” books.  As I’ve discovered the fruitfulness of reading works from the early Church, books in Roxburgh’s genre have become less appealing.  But this book did have some important ideas regarding the formation of leaders for the Church in our context and the roles those leaders then fill. I want to comment on these because I find his proposal both promising and lacking.

Anyone considering reading this book should know that the first nine chapters (140 pages) of the book are designed to set up the final 3 chapters (48 pages).   This last section of the book is where it actually gets exciting. As for set up, here’s what you need to know: The Church in our context is in a situation of liminality – a period of change in which one is in-between two different stages or places, a prolonged time of standing in a threshold. Think of Israel wandering in the wilderness, living in-between the life they’d known in Egypt and the life they would know in the Promised Land.  During such periods of liminality, the people going through this change discover a new sense of connection or bonding called communitas.  If you’ve ever been on a mission trip, you know what this feels like. It’s the sense of connection that you develop with that team of people while you’re experiencing an adventure in an unfamiliar context.  Roxburgh sees the Church in a period of liminality, and argues that both traditional and non-traditional leaders need to work together to create communitas in order to survive the transition.

Once you get to Chapter 10, Roxburgh starts to lay out a vision for leadership in the Church which sees Christian leaders with various roles and gifts and united under the leadership of an “Abbot/Abbess”.  These leaders with differing functions and spiritual gifts would ideally be trained not in modern seminary environments but through hands-on apprenticeship under masters of the faith. These ‘masters’ should be characterized less by academic credentials and more by experience, wisdom, and spiritual maturity.  Ideally this is already the goal of apprenticeship programs such as The World Christian Discipleship Program. Here I agree with Roxburgh’s general observations about leadership formation. After describing some of the roles which these leaders fill – poet, prophet, pastor – Roxburgh moves on to his proposal for an office of “Abbot”. The Abbot or Abbess functions less as a manager of an organization and more as a curator of an environment. Borrowing a term from Lawrence Miller, Roxburgh calls this person a synergist, defined as “a leader with the capacity to unify diverse and divergent leadership styles around a common sense of missional vision for a specific community” (p. 155). Surprisingly to me, Roxburgh envisions the Abbot not as the leader of one congregation, but as an overseer of many various ministries and congregations. (If you have the book, see the chart on page 182 which makes this clear.)  Essentially, Roxburgh is proposing having a bishop.  He avoids this word, probably because of its authoritarian and institutional connotations, stressing that the Abbot is “not a denominational executive” (p. 182), but I can’t help but think that Roxburgh’s Abbot is close to what a bishop should be. This is good, and I find it particularly relevant to our own context where Pittsburgh Presbytery is implementing a new mission plan which will eventually lead to us having four “branch ministers” who could each lead just as Roxburgh envisions his Abbot or Abbess leading. Good.

Promising as this is, there’s something missing in Roxburgh’s ecclesiology. And it’s something big. The problem with this book, and with so many other books on missional ecclesiology, is that it totally neglects the role of the sacraments in shaping and sustaining the life of the Church.  Despite occasional suggestions that we look to our history for guidance, Roxburgh doesn’t always present an accurate reading of Church history.  Contrary to the overview of early Church history in pages 148-150,  the early Church did have a defined pattern of leadership in which hierarchy did not always equal bureaucracy. The office of bishop evolved very early in the life of the Church not out of captivity to our culture’s professionalism or bureaucracy, but out of a desire to ensure proper celebration of the sacraments. Ordination was practiced by the Church to set people apart for the leadership of worship, not administration. Like other similar books, Roxburgh at times reflects anachronistic projection of contemporary emergent distrust of hierarchy onto the history of the Church. The primary concern of the early Church’s first bishops wasn’t paperwork.  It was a life of worship culminating in the celebration of Eucharist each week.  And if that’s the primary job description of a bishop, I see no reason to fear using the word bishop. Roxburgh’s choice of the word Abbot reflects a low ecclesiology, rather than a true sense of monasticism, in which the Abbot also lives a life of worship.

But this correction is no reason to abandon Roxburgh’s vision. Rather, the book’s proposal for leadership should be deepened to reflect the spirituality necessary for leadership of the Church in our context.  What if the Abbot or Abbess whom Roxburgh pictures overseeing multiple congregations and ministries was primarily concerned with cultivating environments of holy and beautiful worship? What if prayer and spiritual disciplines were essential parts of the apprenticeships which prepare the leaders who serve under the Abbot? What if remembrance of our Baptismal identity and celebration of the Lord’s Supper provide the connections to the “core Christian narrative” which Roxburgh says we need to recover? That’s a vision for the Church that I find appealing.

Squirrel Hill Clothing Swap!

Tomorrow is the Squirrel Hill Clothing Swap! For four hours on Saturday, October 2nd, Upper Room is going to be turned into the equivalent of a thrift store.  For a $3 donation to the Squirrel Hill Urban Coalition anyone can fill up a trash-bag worth of clothes from what people have donated over the past month.  And there are tons of clothes available, in all styles, shapes, and sizes. 

It’s happening at 5828 Forward Ave. from 1 pm to 5pm.  For more details see the Facebook event page.

Less About The Building

Two international students from China visited Upper Room this past Sunday. Both are new to the US and had never visited a church before. They had heard the name Jesus but didn’t know anything about who he is. Basically, their only exposure to Christianity before Sunday had been what they’d seen in western movies.

In fact, when our friend Peter asked them where they wanted to sit, they surveyed the eclectic assortment of chairs in our space and pointed to the old pew in the back. “Let’s sit there. That’s what the seats are like in the movies.”

We had heard in advance that they would be visiting us, so as a gesture of hospitality, Mike pasted Chinese translations of the scripture passages for the day into the slideshow. They were happily surprised to see it on the screen, and participated in the service attentively.

Obviously, we wanted their visit to provide a good first impression of the Church, and not just our church, but the whole worldwide Church. So was it a good impression?

As they were getting in a friend’s car to leave after the service, one was overheard saying to the other, “I think church is less about the building and more about the people who believe in Jesus.”

Yes, I would definitely say that’s a good first impression.

Taking Ownership

I have not been blogging much recently for one big reason: Eileen and I bought a house.  For two weeks all our spare energy has gone into packing, moving, and working on the new house.  It’s a wonderful house, and we’re truly blessed to have it.  And in only a few days of living there I’m noticing a number of differences between renting and taking ownership.

This feeling probably wears off for homeowners after a while, but everything in the house comes with a greater feeling of responsibility.  When a doorknob is loose, I know I’m responsible for fixing it.  Weeds in the yard, squeaks in the floor, and spots of peeling paint can’t be as easily overlooked anymore.  There is no other landlord who will fix things that break.  No one else is going to pay for the water-heater to be replaced.  No one else is going to water the plants or cut the grass or fill the bird feeders.   We were always responsible renters, but I know there were things that I’ve overlooked in other places we’ve lived thinking, “That’s not my problem,” or “Someone else will take care of that.”  Not anymore. Eileen and I have ownership, and that means one big thing: responsibility.

And of course I think there are parallels between these feelings and life in the church.   Normally members of newer churches have a higher feeling of ownership over the ministry than in existing churches, but like home-ownership it doesn’t take long for the  joy of responsibility to turn into tiredness and burnout.  Friends who have been homeowners for years sometimes lament to me the amount of time, energy, and money they put into home maintenance.  Sometimes they even said, “Don’t buy a house.”  Responsibility and ownership sound nice, but renting is clearly easier sometimes.  I think church “renters” are a perennial presence in all congregations.  They stay in one place for a short period of time, not putting down the roots that it takes to build deep community.  And they give less time, energy, and money to the maintenance of the community because they’re not rooted there.   But no church community will survive without people taking ownership.  Someone has to claim responsibility for the maintenance, especially with the less glorious and more painstaking tasks of ownership. I love the windows in our new house, but I do not look forward to scraping and repainting every window frame.

So this raises questions for me:  How can churches cultivate attitudes of church-ownership rather than “renting”?  How can we help people find joy in the responsibility of belonging to a church community?  Well, to extend the analogy, why do people by houses?  I think rootedness plays a role.  Eileen and I decided to buy a house because it became apparent that we were becoming rooted in and committed to Pittsburgh for the next several years.  Perhaps people take ownership in a church when they see the benefits of being rooted in one community over the long-haul.  The opportunity to take control was also a factor in our decision to buy a house.  We wanted the freedom to garden as we chose and to have a dog.  But we couldn’t have those freedoms and privileges without increased responsibility.  Likewise, if people want to help shape a church culture, they have to take on the extra work that it takes to do so.   One more reason a lot of real estate is purchased for the sake of investment.  Generally speaking, it’s good stewardship to buy rather than rent.  Owners have something tangible to show for the money they pay toward their housing, while renters give that money away. And, if the conditions are right, in time the value of the property increases and there is a return on the initial investment.  For a church member to invest a church community means taking on more responsibility, but it also means a greater return on what’s given.  Relationships that last over years and years provide more return that short-lived and shallow ones.  Seeing hearts turned toward Christ and signs of his Kingdom coming in a changed neighborhood is the return investment in a new faith community.

Eileen and I don’t know all our neighbors yet, we don’t know what the coming years will bring on our block, and we don’t know what other curve-balls God may throw at us in the meantime.  But we’re committed, so we chose to buy rather than rent.  And I have hope that in the end it will be worth it.  I pray God will grant our church community the same graces of ownership.

Surprise Testimony to Hope

Three nights ago, while at work at 61C Cafe, I stumbled across a beautiful testimony to hope.  While straightening up the shelves where people leave fliers and advertisements and picking up old newspapers, I found a copy of the Squirrel Hill Magazine with a hand-written message on it in blue ink.  This is what it read: 

I’m so thankful for this life.  I was blessed with such a great life. I hate how often I find myself whining incessantly, yearning for something different.  I love where I am in life and who I’m with and what my purpose is.  I wish I would have come to this realization earlier so I would have shared it with more people.  Suicide should never be an option and I’m disgusted that I ever thought it could be my escape.  I love life. I LOVE LIFE! I love life, and I love you!  Thank you.  Thank you God for blessing me with life.

How amazing is this?!  First of all, praise God that this person found the joy in life in that moment  to want to stay alive.  It reminds me of the Kate Hurley song “Tree Branch”.  In the song, she describes the depression she feels when looking at a blooming tree and realizing that it doesn’t move her as it once did.  Then she sings “I’ll tie a rope and make a swing, and I’ll fly high and wide.  I’ll laugh and throw my head back, and choose to be alive.”  Whether s/he knows it or not, I believe this note about choosing to be alive , left on a random magazine cover, is a testimony to new life in Christ.  

Second of all, notice how anonymous the message is:  There’s no reference to anyone by name, place, or even gender.  As Eileen pointed out, it’s a bit like PostSecret, a random confession, written in a medium accessible to strangers, but (perhaps) not in a way that’s accessible to a person’s most intimate relationships.  Perhaps this person felt the need to express that joy, but how much richer would it have been if expressed into community?  Who will celebrate with this person?  Who will confirm that it is God who loves and sustains them?

The end of a season . . .

Two years ago, Eileen and I moved into a home with three other people (two of whom were married and have since had a child).  Writing about that move, I said we were starting a season of community.  Last week, that season came to a close as Eileen and I moved to a duplex in the Squirrel Hill.  Last night with our men’s group from The Open Door, I shared that it’s a bittersweet feeling to have moved.  Eileen and I are happy to have our own place – more space, a kitchen all to ourselves, a study where I can keep all my books and read and write in peace and quiet.  And there’s the rub: the emphasis in my mind has been on “our” and “my”.  In some ways moving out is an admission that I am not good at living in community.  We knew it would be a spiritual discipline to live with others, but what it revealed in me is much that still needs to be sanctified: my selfishness, my attachment to “my” possessions, my desire to sneak away and hide from the world at times. 

And this is why I will miss the ways in which I saw Christ shining through our old housemates, the ways in which I saw the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit alive in them: Alison’s passion for justice and her desire for open and honest communication.  Kendall’s selfless and saintly work for his church, ELDI, and the communities of East Liberty and Garfield.  Jen’s natural pastoral concern for others.  Lucia’s reflection of the image of God and the beauty of creation, life, and new birth.  The house garden growing organic vegetables in our backyard.  I thank God for them and pray that God will continue to bless them and use them for the good of the Kingdom.

The end of one season is also the beginning of another, though.  As the men’s group sat in our living room last night, being brutally honest with each other in a way that can only happen through the work of the Spirit, I had a foretaste of what’s ahead of us.  In the coming months, that space will be where the core group of members for the new congregation will meet.  We’ll pray with each other, eat with each other, share various parts of our lives with each other. Just as in the cycles of life and death everywhere else in creation, one season has ended but a new one with new life is beginning, and I look forward to watching what blooms.

Starting a Season of Community

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” Psalm 133:1 TNIV

Last night Eileen and I met our two new roommates, who together bring the house total to six, or five and a half. Explanation: Oliver, a longtime friend of Kendall with only two classes left in a Masters program here is going to be staying at the house from Sundays through Wednesdays, while commuting home to New York state to be with his wife of one year during the rest of the week. Since he’s only living there half the time for half the year, we jokingly say he’s half a housemate. Allison, a friend of Jen from her college ministry years with CCO at Chatham, will be living there all the time, having just finished Mission Year in Oakland, California. Together the six of us will be living in community, sharing the house, our possessions, and all the joys and trials of life in the coming year.

Before going to sleep late last night, the six of us gathered downstairs in the living room and spent close to half an hour praying for each other and for the house. Looking around the room at every different face, I knew that this was one more reason why God brought us to Pittsburgh. The connection with our housemates that I felt last night while we prayed was strikingly similar to the feeling I had when Jonathan and Michael and I gathered for prayer every night of our summer in Thailand. Praise God for the gift of brothers and sisters who are passionate about living out their faith together! I look forward to the adventures that are ahead of us!

Moving to Garfield, An Anniversary,West Virginia, and Church

The past two weeks have been packed for Eileen and me, hence the lack of new posts during that time. Everything that has happened, however, is significant, so here’s a quick overview of what God’s been doing in our lives:

1) Moving. As of July 22, we no longer live in the Seminary’s apartments. That day, with the help of a few friends from the Open Door and from the Seminary, as well as with a U-Haul truck four times bigger than necessary, we moved into a house in Garfield, a neighborhood just a few blocks away. The owners of the house are Kendall and Jen Pelling, and we are renting a bedroom from them while sharing a kitchen, living room, and dining room. The house is over a hundred years old but feels almost brand-new thanks to Kendall’s remodeling expertise. There are two reasons why we’re doing this: a) It’s a chance to live in Christian community, sharing possessions and space with each other the way the early church did. There are many other Christian communities doing this in America’s cities and inner-cities today (Simple Way), and while the house probably won’t take on the monastic flavor that others have, it will be an amazing experience. I don’t know how God will change us during this time, but as our lives together take shape, I pray that Christ will be glorified and that we will all become more like Him through this time. b) This is the first time Eileen and I have lived in a mostly African-American neighborhood. A distinctive mark of similar Christian communities which I mentioned above is a passion for racial reconciliation, manifest in moving into neighborhoods that other white folks might not. This will also be a new experience, but priceless, I am sure. Praise God that now after talking/blogging here and there about problems of racism in Pittsburgh, I get to walk the walk.

2) Yesterday was our first anniversary! Praise God for a year of love, growth, and joy. Of course there were rough spots, but Eileen and I would both surely say we’ve grown through them. To celebrate, Eileen and I took off to Faith Mountain, a retreat center for pastors in the middle of rural West Virginia. Our weekend there was amazing as we enjoyed the beautiful mountains of WV, hiked, explored the small towns nearby, and spent time reconnecting with God and each other. Once we have pictures available, I may post a bit more about that trip, especially the bizarre looking turtle we stumbled upon while hiking.

3) Right after we returned from WV yesterday, we went to the Open Door where we participated in a special prayer time for Amara and Emilee, two young women whom we were blessed by every Wednesday in our weekly Bible study at the Open Door. They are each leaving Pittsburgh, both to New York state, though for different callings. Saying goodbye to them at the Creasys’ house last night made me think about how the composition of the Open Door will change this year. Even as Eileen and I become a bit less involved there so that I can pursue field education at Northmont United Presbyterian Church, I know part of my heart will always be with the folks at Open Door. I have encountered no community like it who as a church embodies what it means to be followers of Jesus. I’m grateful for all the encouragement they’ve given me this year and look forward to seeing what God will do in the future there.

So with moving, church busy-ness, and the celebration of our first anniversary, it’s obvious that a lot is happening in life. I hope to post more about the insights and lessons that I learn in the coming months. Praise God for his faithfulness and life in Christ!