(e)mergent Voyageurs

[Our summer program is well underway and things are going really well.  Kim approached me a few weeks ago to write a monologue for part of the program.  The following is what I wrote.  I was under some requirements and limitations, but I think it turned out nonetheless.  It is read with a collection of images playing in the background, as well as some sound effects.  I hope you enjoy]

Centurion:

This is a land forsaken by the god’s.  A dry and barren backwater of the Empire inhabited by a backwards and arrogant people whose weak minds can only conceive of one god.  To be stationed here is an insult upon my name and my family’s name.  Only the dregs of our soldiers are sent here.  I am a captain of centurions, what have I done to be so dishonoured?

And now I oversee the escort this Jewish prisoner around.  He seems harmless enough, but he is but a petty dissident, a tool for the local religious leaders to play at their politics with Governor Pontius Pilate.   So we must make a good show of it, keeping the natives appeased.  What a waste of my skills and service.

This prisoner- this… Jesus- hardly seems to warrant such an escort.  I heard the story of when they captured him, betrayed by one of his own men.

When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. “I have sinned,” he said, “for I have betrayed innocent blood.”  “What is that to us?” they replied. “That’s your responsibility.” So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.

He didn’t even put up a fight, holding back his men as well.  One of the temple soldiers screamed like a madman when one them lunged clumsily at his head with a crude sword.  Jesus, I am told, actually went to him to make sure he was alright- what weakness.  The sword missed him entirely, though the man swears his ear had been severed.  Covering up for his cowardice, no doubt.  That is what separates us from these so called soldiers.

He stands before Pilate now, being questioned for his crimes.  He has already been judged by his own religious leaders, declaring him a blasphemer, a so called crime our courts could care less about.  But they seem determined to have this man executed, so they cast their before the Governor, claiming he called himself the King of the Jews.  The fool confirmed it with his own mouth.  Still, it hardly seems a crime worthy of crucifixion.

Early in the morning, all the chief priests and the elders of the people came to the decision to put Jesus to death. They bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate the governor.

“Do you refuse to speak to me?” Pilate said. “Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?”

Jesus answered, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”

It seems Pilate shares that judgment.  He washes his hands of the matter, declaring he would not have this mans blood upon him.  The crowd clamoured that his blood could be upon them and their children, so hungry of judgment they are.  They even called for the release of a murderous dissident to be released instead of this harmless, if misguided teacher.  Fools.  So we are to scourge him.  Perhaps of a taste of Roman strength might quench their blood-thirst.

When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!”

All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”

I am glad I am not the one to use that whip.  It is bad enough that I must watch.  As a seasoned soldier I have seen much brutality, but scourging always turns my stomach.  They strike him again and again.  The sharps of the cords tear at his flesh.  He will be lucky to survive this torment.  The smell of blood is heavy.

The other soldiers are making good sport of this wretched man.  They mock his pitiful claims at kingship a scarlet robe on his torn back, beating a crude crown of thorns into his head.  I almost pity the man.  I would be happy to be done with this whole business.  Blindfolded, they beat him, calling for him to name his attackers.  They expect no answer, nor does he give one.

A crowd has grown along the streets, as there always is before a crucifixion.  This Jesus is trying to carry his cross up the steep streets to Golgotha, but he is too weak.  I must chose a local to help him.  The men in the crowd shrink back under my gaze, knowing what I am looking for.  Not wanting to anger the locals needlessly, I spot a foreigner, a Cyrene by the look of him, and drag him forward.  Reluctantly, he takes up the heavy timber.

As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross.  They came to a place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”).  There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it.  When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots.  And sitting down, they kept watch over him there.

I have rarely seen such anger and cruelty from the crowds.  Or perhaps it is because this strong, but gentle man seemed not to deserve such hatred.  Whatever the reason, the pain in his eyes has stirred something in me.  I try to offer him the vinegar and gall to ease his pain, but he refuses, not with the stubborn defiance so many display in these last moments of life.  Rather, he seems to accept his fate with a determination.  His eyes meet mine for but a moment, filled with- what is this?!?- compassion?  Who is this man?  I am confused, disoriented.

The spikes and mallet are brought to, as they wait for me to decide who will nail his hands and feet the cross.  I know which men would excel, but the dark cruelty in their eyes disgusts me.  I will do it myself.  Better me than some of this men, whose lives seem determined to inflict pain for their own pleasure.  And so, his writhing body pinned by the others, I steadily pound the nails through his flesh, piercing his wrists, then his feet.  Blood streams down my hands and his agony wracks his broken body.

And then this Jesus is lift up for all see watch him die in his nakedness and shame.  A cruel sign has been nailed above his head, declaring him “King of the Jews”.  The religious leaders roared their anger at this blasphemy.  Then, looking to the heavens, he spoke the words that tore through me like the blade of my gladius:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”

The crowds mock Jesus, spurred on my the religious leaders who have come to gloat.  Petty politicians, the lot.  Yet none of this seems to bother the teacher on the cross.  He has spoken words of comfort to those few friends and followers who have come to him.  He even comforted one of the other criminals who was being crucified beside him.  What kind of man is this, to give so much to others in the midst of agonizing last moments on earth?

A foreboding darkness has fallen, unsettling everyone.  Jesus’ pain must be worsening now.  He has to be getting weaker.  He cried out something moments ago, but I did not understand the words.  Whatever he said, it sent a stir through the quieting crowds.  Again, I tried to offer him the vinegar for the pain, but the crowd barked in protest.  I am sure my mean mock me for my kindness.  They can be damned!  This is not right.

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. 46 About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). When some of those standing there heard this, they said, “He’s calling Elijah.”  Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.”

Suddenly the sky darkened even more, as if it were night.  Something was happening, something beyond reason.  This was no mere man.  I gazed up at Jesus and I clearly heard his words as life began to final slip away from him:

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit”

And with that, a rattling shudder went through Jesus’ body, a wheeze of breathe escaping his lips.  And then… he was dead.

I could not hold back.  Despite the shock and dismay of my men, I cried out to the God of the this nam Jesus.

“Surely, this was a good and innocent man!”

The crowd seemed to sense the same deep, dark truth that had burst from within me.  Heads down, voices silenced, they crept away, one by one, until only a few were left behind.  Word was sent that the body was to be released to a wealthy patron of this dead rabbi.  Against custom and to the distaste of my men, I ordered them to help remove the body and carry to the prepared tomb.  I followed, wanting only to be near this man, this person who was so much more.

Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

A friend recently told me to check out Helium.com, an online article bank (so to speak) where you can write on any number of topics, have peer reviews and possibly even make some money on the side.  While I will be primarily be writing at this blog, I have already started writing some short articles over Helium that I think you might enjoy checking them out.  It is a great place to write about topics that you would otherwise not spend the time writing (I know, I know).  Let me know what you think (as you can’t comment on articles at Helium):

Does Society Favour Men?

Could Christianity Survive Without The Bible?

Is There Biblical Support For Dating?

Is Drinking A Sin For Christians?

What Is Evangelism?

Honouring Marriage

If you are interested in joining Helium.com, let me know.  If I invite you, I could get some “points”, so…  you know…  whatever. (wink)

With the unforgiving heatwave here (that has just broke recently), and the busy schedule with our summer program and the bookstore, I have not been able to sit down and write anything of substance for the blog. Besides, overtired from being locked out of my house last night for hours with swarms of ruthless mosquitoes, coupled with the fact I was up at 5am to do an airport run (anything for you, Chris!), I was somewhat cranky when I woke up.

That is until I saw this at Santosh’s blog. Made. My. Day!

Have a great weekend all!

 Previous Post -Prophetic And Bureaucracy

Too tired to post much, as I have been reading Harry Potter non-stop since I got it.  Add to that the ridiculous heat and humidity here and… brain… not… tick… … cog? 

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(NOTE: I should be clear from the beginning that, when I reference the prophetic in the title, I am speaking of in the sense of the role of the prophet to be a voice against the abuses of power by the rulers and systems of the world. I know this does not encompass all that prophecy and the prophetic express, but it is the heart of what I will be exploring here.)

Living and serving in the inner city, I find myself confronted daily with the systemic injustices of the world, especially towards the marginalized (i.e. the poor, the racial minority, women, etc.). It is a discipline, at times, not to allow righteous anger to turn to bitter cynicism. So deeply are these injustices engrained into the fabic of our cultures, systems and wordlviews that it can seem hopeless. How can you bring change into such situations?

While this is a challenge to all believers, I think it is particularly difficult to those who are stirred in their calling/gifitng of the prophetic. We are called to be a voice against injustice, as well as a community who lives lives against the grain of injustice whenever we can. However, some are called and gifted to be a “louder voice” against the leaders and systems that perpetuate these failures. From what I have experienced and seen, it can often be a lonely place for those women and men.

Specifically, I have begun to realize some of the dangers that go along with that role in our current society. One such challenge is relating to advocacy groups and organizations that are seeking to bring the same kinds of change. These groups do essential and valuable work, with Christians being too often from their ranks. These groups can often be a source of experience, resources and community for Christians wanting to address injustice, especially the prophetic voices.

However, there are some challenges and dangers that come with this. The more I interact with such groups myself, the more I realize that the means by which things get done raise some difficult questions for Christians. For example, a great deal of the work of these groups is aimed at acquiring finances to further their goals, often getting entangled in the bueracratic systems to do so. Further, their posture is often so angry and combative, that their message seems more important than the people involved.

Therefore, I have begun to realize that to engage issues of injustice, the Church needs to respond as community (or communities) itself. I am not suggesting we have NO involvement- by no means! I do not want to suggest that we set up a “sacred vs. secular” dichotomy againt. Rather, I think Christians needs to recognize that the reasons and means by which we are called to address injustice is different (and often incompatible) with the other common approaches.

So what does this look like? How does the Church address systemtic injustice in its role as a prophetic agent in the world?

Sorry for the delay in blogging lately, but I have been busy at work at the store where we will be opening The Dusty Cover in September (Lord willing). We gots keys to the space at the beginning of the month. Unfortunately, we are stalled at the moment, as the previous tenants “stuff” has yet to be fully removed. It has tried my patience work around it, but it is still exciting to be in the building.

We have already begun making some purchases, including most of the shelves (found a great deal), as well as the couches and chairs (another amazing deal, but still painfully expensive). I have been researching equipment for the coffee section, with some great options brewing (pun intended), but I am always open to suggestions. We want to serve fair trade, but not sure our neighbourhood can sustain the cost. Perhaps someone out there would like to support the store by providing the product…? We’ll see.

I hope unveil a new logo in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for that. We have a gifted designer donating time to that project, for which we are very grateful (again, more on that later). Some creative ideas are coming together for the kids section, with some volunteers showing interest in adopting the section as a project. All very promising.

Funding is still a challenge, as not many people have expressed interest to support the project (many, MANY thanks to those of you who have and do). Our goal is to make the stores “success” not dependant on income, so this is a crucial part of the plan. We have a few grant applications out, but no word so far. I am hopeful it will all come together.

Anyway, feel free to make any suggestions, ask any questions, so forth. I’ll post some pictures next week.

As you have likely noticed, the topic of missional, its nature and practice. As passionately as I love the topic and as convinced I am that it is one of the more crucial areas that the Church needs to explore, I often find myself confounded by the twists and turns that its leads me through. this is especially true as we explore the topic together in conversation. It is at the same time thrillingly collaborative and frustratingly muddled.

Recently I have begun to feel the edges of a distinction that, for me at least, is helpful in understand the engagement of missionality both in concept and as practice. Be clear that I am not intending to coin new terms, but rather want to introduce two terms that help me navigate some of the trickier places of understanding the topic: micro-missional and macro-missional.

As we discuss missionality, I often find people talk from two ends of the spectrum. Micro-missional is what I would characterize largely as places where we explore missionality as individuals, small groups and perhaps even communities. It finds expression in questions like “What does it mean for me to missional?” and “How can our congregation be missional?”. The diversity of what this will look like is virtually endless, though still shaped by the underlying DNA of missionality (essentially, the Missio Dei). This perspective is obviously very pragmatic and absolutely essential.

Macro-missional, on the other hand, looks at it from a wider lense, specifically where we explore missionality in respect to the Church as a whole, the Body of Christ. While we will obviously look at it through the lens of our current place in history, it is essentially (if not intentionally) informed by both the past and the future. It finds expression in questions like “What role does the Church play in the Missio Dei?” and “Where has God brought us from and where is He leading us to? What part do we, the Church, play in that grand narrative?”.

For example, when I recently said that I believe that relocation is an essential aspect of missionality, I was referring to macro-missionality. In the big picture, if relocation does not happen within the Church somewhere, someone is failing to be missional. So, looking at being missional within the Body of Christ, it then is clearly one essential aspect that must be practice in order for the Missio Dei to be fulfilled. However, by my failure to clarify this, it was read by some that I was saying it was essential to micro-missionality. Clearly this would be wrong, as not everyone must relocate to be missional.

In addition to being helpful for differentiating the concept of missional in our dialogues, I also think it is an essential safeguard against losing sight of the bigger picture. One challenging aspect of postmodern thought is that it can undermine the importance of history and our place in it. So many Christians live their faith so deeply in the now, our missionality can become merely universal principles of living (albeit, excellent ones). If we can maintain the historicity and directionality of the Mission Dei, we will then be able to respond more responsibly in our pursuit of building the Kingdom together.

It is, perhaps, idiosyncratic of me to focus on macro-missionality when I am primarily a practioner (or a practical theologian, as a friend recently refered to me). If you are familiar with MBTI or KTS, I am an INTJ and therefore love intuitively exploring systems, with a fascination for the “meta-system” of things, if you will. However, I hope that this distinction will help bring clarity to some in the discussion, as it has certainly helped me. It is by no means a completed thesis, so you are likely to find flaws here and there, but I think the heart of it stands up.

What do you? Does this help or hinder understanding of missionality for you?

Previous Post – On A Lighter Note

After the great discussion that we’ve been having over at my post on missionality & location, someone asked a great question. Having explored ideas about missionality in suburban and urban contexts, what about being missional in rural contexts? Having grown up in a small town, this is something I have given a great deal of thought to. In fact, if it were not for my clear calling to the urban context, I would live in a rural setting in a heart beat (oh yeah, that and my wife would die of boredom).

Many people ask us how we live in an inner city context with all the problems and challenges. While there are serious issues and many sacrafices, it isn’t actually that difficult to be missional there. Of course it is demanding, but because the church has largely abandon these communities, you can pretty much do whatever you want, daring to explore the missional possibilities with a freedom otherwise unknown. Small towns are, in many ways, far more difficult to be missional in.

Whenever I visit my folks in my old home town of Rainy River, ON, we get to talking about what it means to truly engage the community as a congregation. It doesn’t take long to find how deeply rooted traditions and models are, making the idea of change and innovation very difficult. Of course, these problems occur in every context, but rural contexts are generally more parochial both in the church culture and the wider community itself. Further, as failures become fairly widely known in a very short time, it can be a very unforgiving context to experiment.

At the same time, rural contexts offer wonderful advantages. The very thing that often makes these communities overly insular also contributes to genuine community. Further, the spheres of influence in the community (i.e. education, commerce, politics, etc.) are so closely connected, that there is amazing potential for a faith community to have a significant impact on the very fabric of the area. While not driven by size or “success”, a small community can present some achievable goals that can be hard to see in large, urban and suburban contexts.

What do you think? What does it mean to be missional in a rural context? What doesn’t work? Have you seen models of missional community in rural areas?

P.S. I have always had a dream of working with a group of people who are passionate about missionality to partner with a church in a small town on experimenting with missionality. I know I am biased, but I think Rainy River would be an ideal location. Dare to dream, eh?

Previous Post – Missional & Location: Inseparably Connected

With the relative intensity of my last post (though I have thoroughly benefited from the dialogue), I thought I would share something on the lighter side tonight.

This evening, several of us were sitting around chatting about relationships, counselling and marraige.  I was passionately discussing the importance of going into marraige with as much understanding as you can have.  This is something I have seen as been particularly lacking for many young couples.  Of the Christians couples I’ve spoken to, many have entered marraige particularly ignorant about sex and sexuality, something I think it problematic.

Having long desired to help young couples in this respect, I made a passionate statement, drawing the amused and confused look of everyone in the room:

“Someday I hope I get the chance to be a pre-marital sex counsellor!”

And on that queue, I knew it was time for bed.

Previous Post – Carnivorous Bunny & Winged Watchers

UPDATE (June 10, 2007): I just had lunch with Brother Maynard and I think we understand each other better.  We didn’t even have to resort to trading fists (wink).  I want to add that in order to understand this post, please go and read the comments at Bill’s blog I link to below.  When I quoted BroMay, I presumed readers would get the context by read those comments first.  That was a mistake, meaning that some would have read the excerpt of his comment out of context and got the wrong impression.

BroMay, obviously believes that location/context is important.  What was at issue was that he felt I had not clearly communicated my concept, leaving the impression that I believed everyone must relocate to be missional.  While he & I may still disagree on some of the details on the issue, we understand the others position better.

The other day, while reading over at Achievable Ends (one of my daily favourites), I noticed a link to a new blog by Allelon called “Moving into the Neighborhood”. Admittedly, when I saw that title I made the assumption that it was (at least in part) about relocating for missional purposes. When I realized that this was not the intention of the blog, but rather about being missional engaged in suburbia, I expressed my disappointment in the comment section. Here is where the misunderstanding began.

I was not disappointed that Allelon was launching a blog on this topic, but rather, as I was excited about the prospect, I was disappointed that my assumption had been wrong. In fact, I think few organization are better poised to explore this important issue. Perhaps now more than ever the need for an intentional engagement of missionality within the suburban context is necessary. For those who find themselves in this context, I believe this blog will be invaluable.

However, the discussion that resulted between myself and my good friend Brother Maynard has sparked some interesting questions for me. Is location a significant aspect of missionality? Brother Maynard suggests:

Missional to me is about incarnating the message, embodying it… and on that basis, location doesn’t matter. The inner city is of course a concern and needs people to embody the message there, but that’s not the same issue. People need to act/engage missionally. End of sentence.

I agree that missionality is incarnational. Location certainly does not centrally/exclusively define how missional a person is. However, I do believe that location cannot be separated so definitively from missionality. From an individual perspective, location becomes a much more clear issue- no location or vocation is more important than any other. However, if we look at the big picture of the larger Church, it’s importance becomes more significant. Let me try to explore this from my own context.

I was first introduced to the importance of relocation over five years ago when I first met my late friend, Pastor Harry Lehotsky. He made pioneering the YWAM ministry in Winnipeg possible with all the ways he served us, but on one condition- that we would move into the neighbourhood and make it our own. We gladly agreed. He then gave us a copy of “Restoring At-Risk Communities: Doing It Together and Doing It Right” by John Perkins. Relocation was one of three R’s Perkin’s advocated (the others being reconciliation & redistribution). After five years, I am more convinced than ever.

I live and minister in an inner city neighbourhood that is populated by dead and dying churches (that said, those that remain are often amazing examples for us all). The need for missional communities to become part of the neighbourhood is desperately needed. While I am not advocating every Christian abandon their rural and suburban neighbourhoods, I believe for communities to be missional they must consider intentionally rooting their lives in specific communities as an essential expression of their missional commitment. One cannot be missional without prayerfully considering their location, not letting it be incidental to the incarnational faith.

Again, I am not saying everyone must relocate. Rather, I am saying that to be truly missional we must all, as individuals and communities, consider if our location in the context of our missional vocation, both in the specific vocations and the universal vocation of the whole Church. The great narrative of God through history as seen throughout the entire Bible seems significantly rooted in location. We cannot assume that we are called to a location simply because that happens to be where we are- that may end up being the case, but the question must be asked.

What do you think? Is location critical to missionality? Am I overstating things as a result of my own choices and vocation?