Category: Emerging Church

Tradition

Posted on

Tradition.

And yes, that must be mentally read to the Fiddler on the Roof tune.

Recent discussions here brought up the need to respect and submit to the authority of tradition in the church. Those of us in emerging discussion based churches were accused of just being individualists with no higher authority but ourselves. We were asked what church authority we submit to in the faith with the assumption that everyone should be submitting to someone. Such things like liturgy were championed because they are rooted in tradition and hence are often put forth as therefore the appropriate way to do church. This is a discussion popular in the church these days – even in emerging circles. We have Phyllis Tickle saying that the future of the church is in the hyphenateds – traditional denominations that are engaging the emerging conversation. Jim Belcher’s recent book, Deep Church, suggests an alternative to emerging Christianity is to have the church rooted in tradition, specifically the conservative reformed Presbyterian tradition. And Brian McLaren even recently affirmed what Richard Rohr said about the need for Emergents to be rooted in tradition –

It seems to me that the emerging church is emerging because people are finding the ability to have a grateful foot in both camps—one in the Tradition (the mother church) along with another foot inside of a support group that parallels, deepens, broadens, grounds, and personalizes the traditional message. But you don’t throw out the traditional message, or you have to keep rebuilding the infrastructure or creating a superstructure all over again.

I get all that. I see the beauty of tradition. I see the futility in think we are building something from scratch. I don’t think tradition should be scoffed at or rejected. I’m not anti-tradition.

It’s just that none of those are my traditions. I have never been rooted in liturgical practice. I didn’t grow up in denominations with catechisms and standard hymnals and theological tomes that cannot be questioned. I feel no allegiance to Luther, or Calvin, or Barth. I know I am influenced by them and owe my faith to the path they laid, but I’ve never been part of that tribe. I guess I could choose to adopt their tradition as my own just like I could decide that I wanted to become thoroughly culturally Chinese, but at the moment I feel no inclination to become Lutheran (or Chinese).

I know I am part of a great tradition. My faith does not exist in a vacuum – I respect and am grateful for the heritige of my faith. But I get uneasy with the repeated insistence that I must have at least one foot planted firmly in some tradition in order to have a holistic and healthy faith. I am told that I am rejecting tradition in pursuit of an individualistic faith if I do not. But honestly how can I reject something I never had? Those aren’t my tribes. I am just a low-church mutt who has found her place in the emerging conversation.

So given that – the question becomes “is tradition necessary for faith?” Or, can I be a Christian outside of a historic tradition or must I choose to align myself with an established tradition in order to be truly faithful? I know that’s the Catholic and Orthodox stance – but is it the official stance of the Lutherans, or Presbyterians, or Anglicans, or the emerging hyphenateds thereof? Must I choose one of those tribes? Or is there actually room for building new infrastructure and making a tribe out of us fringe immigrants who have no home?

This discussion is often framed as a dichotomy between tradition and rejection thereof – but not all of us fit neatly into those two categories. There needs to be room for us too – even if that requires changing the nature of this whole discussion.

Read more

Thoughts on Christianity 21

Posted on

So I’ve been trying to figure out what in the world to say about Christianity 21. It wasn’t a straightforward conference so it’s difficult to narrow down what exactly I want to say about it. It was intense, exhausting, uplifting, and encouraging all at once and I am still attempting to process it. (traveling immediately to Dallas the next day to go see U2 didn’t help with the exhaustion thing, although it totally carried on the spiritual high). So I’ll just throw out some of the things drifting through my mind about it.

In the lead-up to the conference I was part of numerous discussions regarding the need to give the stage so deliberately to a group of women. I get the desire to be at a point in the conversation where women’s voices don’t have to be highlighted but are just a normal part of things. Or to be at a place of if there is a Christian conference where the main speakers are women people don’t assume that it’s a women’s conference. I’d love that, but we aren’t there yet. I think C21 moved us forward in that direction, but women’s voices had to be highlighted this time in order for that to happen. mark spencerAnd I love that men who typically speak at these sorts of conferences came instead to serve at this one – doing all the behind the scenes stuff that we women often end up doing. Jay Bakker, Shane Claiborne, Spencer Burke, Mark Scandrette, and Gareth Higgins came to serve and help out. And as Doug Pagitt joked, to see the end of their careers as the privileged ones given the microphone at these sorts of events. Bono is right – women are the future and after this conference there can be no excuse for not inviting women to lead sessions at conferences because gifted intelligent women are out there. (and as a total aside the money quote from the weekend came from Shane Claiborne. I was talking to him about how he had “killed” my husband in a game of assassin as Wheaton College and he said “I love Assassin, I have to get my violent tendencies out somehow!” Awesome.)

all welcomeThe conference itself was intense. There was little down-time, little interaction or workshop time, just rapid-fire hearing from the presenters on what they see as important things to consider for faith in the 21st century. Granted, this wasn’t back to back lecture after lecture. There were some lectures of course, but there was also the telling of stories, short dramas, spoken-word poetry, musical pieces, times of prayer and reflection, conversations on stage, and a fast-paced group presentation pairing reflections with visual images. And as one of those presenters – let me just say that 21 minutes is a really really short time to try to do anything (especially when it is further broken apart into even shorter segments). Hearing a new idea every 21 (or 7 or 5) minutes is intense. With no time for interaction or question, jumping from one idea to another hardly gives one time to wrap ones mind around any given idea. So I am having a hard time summarizing what any one person talked about. I know Sybil MacBath did her thing about praying in color, Alise Barrymore did an amazing poetic speech about growing down. Seth Donovan pushed us to let people show up at church decompartmentalized from our identities and labels. Phyllis Tickle and Nadia Bolz-Weber chatted about the future of the church. Lauren Winner gave a killer list about what Christianity will be known for by the end of the 21st century. And Debbie Blue talked about roadkill and Jesus having an anus (it was beautiful, seriously). I remember the moments and that it was beautiful. And for all the controversy leading up to the event, this was one of the most Christ-centered, Bible and church affirming gathering I have been a part of in a long time.

nadia phyllisAs with most emerging conferences, one of the best parts was just being able to connect with people. I loved meeting friends from the Emerging Women blog and sitting down for drinks with someone I used to argue with all the time at The Ooze some seven years ago. I loved hearing people’s stories and what brought them to the conversation. I even got to spend the plane ride home continuing the conversation with new friends. I was blessed to learn from the Queermergent folks (and I totally apologize again for ditching so early, I was so falling asleep on the couch…). I enjoyed making new friends and getting to reconnect with old members of my tribe.

And I’m sure my rambling here makes sense only in my head, but I just need to get my thoughts out (as discombobulated as they are). But I do know that something significant happened this past weekend. And I was blessed to be a part of it.

Other people who are sharing about the experience –

Christina Whitehouse-Suggs on Drunk on the Wine of New Love

Danielle Shoyer gives a recap

Imago’s blog’s reflections

Tony Jones looks back at the event.

Seth Donovan talks about starting in a new place.

Pam Heatley compared C21 to a tropical vacation

Shula at Sensuous Wife blogs her reaction to the event.

Don Heatley has created an amazing highlight video from the event that really helps capture some of the themes that emerged there.

For more fantastic pictures from the event, visit Courtney Perry’s Christianity 21 photostream (the pictures here are hers, excepting the panorama which is Jake Bouma’s )

and if you want to witness for yourself the amazing live sketching Paul Soupiset did at the event, watch them here, here, here and here

Oh, and I’m super excited about the new publishing house, Sparkhouse, which launched recently. They created a video at C21 about sparking new life into faith communities, it’s pretty neat (I’m the space-y one in it).

Read more

Matter ’09

Posted on

So I am feeling very blessed. In the last two weeks I have attended two theology conferences – the Emergent Theological Conversation with Jurgen Moltmann and the Matter ’09 conference. I forget how much being a part of an experience where people can learn and discuss and debate ideas is such a vital part of who I am. Getting a short discussion some weeks in Sunday school or interacting even on blogs just doesn’t cut it for the need to be feed through such interaction. I miss it, and so was very grateful to have a few days where I could be myself. I’ve been reflecting on the Moltmann conversation already here and may continue that as well as add in a few reflections from the Matter conference in the upcoming week.

But I want to say how much I appreciated Matter ’09. It was put on by Shechem Ministries and was billed as a creative theology conference. In essence it brought the arts and theology together through a variety of mediums. As conferences go, it was a very small conference and had some serious kinks in the planning/implementation side of things, but I hope those don’t stand in the way of this becoming a regular gathering. There really is so little being done in the church that explores how art and theology and church life and faith all work together. We need safe spaces where we can explore those sorts of questions, and the Matter conference is the perfect opportunity to make that happen.

This year at the conference we got to approach the issues and learn from a variety of different styles. Throughout the conference there were presentations/workshops from a variety of voices. Some of these were strictly academic, others were talks on the practical intersection of art and faith, and others were artistic sessions like poetry readings or short drama. I was privileged to lead a session on how our mental images of God affect if our response to Eucharist turns us inward to a personalized faith or outward to a service orientated faith. Then there were three main sessions where an academic and an artist engaged the theme verses of the conference while in dialogue with each other. So a painter and a biblical scholar, a filmmaker and a philosopher, and a musician and a textual critic explored together how to interpret and reflect on scripture. Then we also got to hear multiple times from Pete Rollins, who explored with us creative liturgy and pushed us to reflect on lived faith that is in the world but not of it. He, as always, was brilliant and challenged us to remove the facades of our faith. It was cerebral, and emotional, and worshipful all at the same time.

I was grateful to be a part of this event, and thankful to those who put in the work to make it happen. I truly hope it does evolve and survive so that we can continue to see these diverse disciplines interacting and deliberately learning from each other.

Read more

Moltmann Reflections 3

Posted on

Over the next few days, I’ll be blogging my thoughts about the Moltmann conversation. I’m not a theologian, and I’ve read very little of Jurgen Moltmann (although now I want to read a lot more), so I will just be reflecting on what I heard at the Emergent Theological Conversation.

I think one of the poignant soundbites from the Moltmann conversation came during the rapid fire round. Tony Jones would throw out a name and Moltmann would give a one sentence response. While this of course brought out some moments of praise (“Pope John Paul II – “He was a good pope” and Miroslav Volf – “dear friend, gifted theologian’), it also brought a few criticisms (Augustine – “ask his wife” and Pelagius – “he is the saint of American Christians”). I found his reply to what he thought about Hauerwas to be significant – “The New Testament speaks not about a peaceable kingdom, but a peace-making kingdom.”

Moltmann is very insistent on the need to have an active faith. Apathy is the enemy of faith, and can lead one to passivity. But if we are serving Christ and truly looking towards the hope of the Kingdom, we will be actively engaged in the faith. A peaceable kingdom is not one of action, there must be deliberate attempts made to established the hope-filled world that Jesus calls us to.

In a later session, Moltmann then expanded on what he meant by that idea of a peace-making kingdom. He likes the future idea of a peaceable kingdom where swords will instead be plowshares, but he also reminds that peace-making is what does the actual work of transformation. He said, – we need communities that anticipate this peaceable kingdom, and communities that work for peacemaking in this world. A double strategy so that peacemakers do not become too violent themselves without this ideal vision or people end up not preventing any war by living in their own peace. He captures the dangers of both the peaceable and the peace-makers, the former can be so afraid of conflict that they are frozen in inaction and the latter so committed to a goal that they adopt the tactics of the violent to achieve their ends.

I’ve seen the dangers of those that think the best route to peace is to do nothing, who believe that even words create too much conflict. And I’ve also seen the beautiful examples of peace-makers actively taking a stand for what is good and right without fear of their own safety or intention to harm oppressors. The women of the Niger River Delta who stood up to Chevron to protest the destruction of their homes, or the women of Liberia who peacefully ended a bloody civil war (as depicted in Pray the Devil Back to Hell) demonstrated this active peacemaking. And Moltman himself felt the tension as well, after he was released from the WW2 POW camp he vowed to never again take up arms in a military, but he also vowed that if given the chance to kill an evil dictator like Hitler he would take it. It’s complicated, but it’s also a good reminder that peace has little to do with passive pacifism, and everything to do with actively seeking justice and peace.

Read more

Moltmann Reflections 2

Posted on

Over the next few days, I’ll be blogging my thoughts about the Moltmann conversation. I’m not a theologian, and I’ve read very little of Jurgen Moltmann (although now I want to read a lot more), so I will just be reflecting on what I heard at the Emergent Theological Conversation.

One of the things I appreciated most in the conversations with Moltmann, was his insistence on returning to the simplicity of the gospel. Often he was asked a question on some controversial issue in the American church, and he simply scoffed at how we make such a big deal over it. His thought is that God is God and the gospel is the gospel – how we keep trying to manipulate and add things to it seemed preposterous or even heretical. Take for example his response to two such hot topic issues much discussed lately in America – gender language for God and homosexuality.

Moltmann was asked about the difficulty in “coming up with pronouns that are appropriately intimate and personal for God and yet don’t anthropomorphize God with a gender.” His response was that God is neither he nor she nor it – God is God. We should not use God’s divinity to justify the domination of men over women. The image we have of the trinity is not one of hierarchy or domination, but of unity. This unity can be reflected in our church communities – being in community the image of the communal identity of love. I found his view of allowing God to be God to be refreshing. Too often God is used for that very purpose of domination that subverts and destroys community. Sometime we get so wrapped up in the complexities of our own opinions that we paint elaborate portraits of God in our own personal images.  Moltmann proposes instead a simplicity that doesn’t fall into idolatry by reducing God to gender, and yet remains intimately connected to God through the use of multi-gendered pronouns for God.

Same thing with homosexuality. When the schismatic nature of sexuality in the American church was brought up, Moltmann replied that the whole discussion isn’t a problem in Germany. He said they have never had a struggle about this in the churches and in between the churches, because the church is about the gospel and not about sex. Christians believe in the justification of human beings by faith alone, not by faith and homosexuality. That, according to Moltmann, is adding heresy. I find this tendency, especially in the American church, to add things to the gospel to be disturbing. I’ve recently been told that I obviously am not a true Christian if I, say, read gender neutral Bible translations, do yoga, refuse to spank my kids, or become a vegetarian. As farcical as it sounds to turn the gospel into “believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and continue to eat meat and you will be saved,” it is unfortunately representative of a growing trend in the church these days. When prominent church leaders regularly question the salvation of those who don’t follow the teachings of Calvin, the warped idolatry in the church is apparent.

So, I loved that Moltmann simply scoffed at America’s adolescent stupidity and encouraged us to get back to the gospel. Let God be God. Let the gospel be the gospel. Of course, opinions and theologies will always affect our faith, but sometimes we just need a good reminder to get over ourselves and stop manipulating God for our own ends.

Read more

Moltmann Reflections 1

Posted on

Over the next few days, I’ll be blogging my thoughts about the Moltmann conversation. I’m not a theologian, and I’ve read very little of Jurgen Moltmann (although now I want to read a lot more), so I will just be reflecting on what I heard at the Emergent Theological Conversation.

At one point Moltmann, spoke about the two crosses of Christianity – the real cross at Golgotha and Constantine’s dream cross (a discussion I assume he develops further in his book, The Crucified God). The cross that appeared to Constantine in his vision was the cross of empire and violence. It was used to conquer, oppress, and destroy opposition. His cross is one of power and domination, not of response and reconciliation. But it is Constantine’s cross, and not the cross of Golgotha, that the church has most readily accepted through the ages. Moltmann mentioned that it was the precursor of the Iron Cross and Victoria’s Cross – crosses that spoke not of the sacrifice of Jesus, but of empire and political maneuvering. We place that cross on flags to demonstrate the forced acceptance of a political interpretation of Christ. Accepting Christ and his cross has become about accepting the empire’s official version thereof.

Moltmann suggested instead that we need to go back to the origins of our faith to find a new future for Christianity in the world outside of imperialism. We have so confused the cross of Constantine with the real cross of Christ that we fail to understand and honor what the cross truly means. We honor our idea of a powerful, vindictive cross instead of a suffering cross. Unless we break from this idolatry, the probleofm  the Church causing pain in this world will continue.

I found the image fascinating. When the cross becomes our shield and sword instead of a symbol of hope, our faith becomes about struggle with the Other instead of love of the Other. Instead of acknowledging that through Christ’s suffering, all can be reconciled, we desire to forcibly make others think as we do. But conversion through coercion is not a reflection of hope and love, but of fear. If we cannot let the other be who they are and encounter the cross on their own terms, then we have forsaken the cross in favor of empire (be that a political or ideological empire). I fully agree that we need to return to the real cross, but I also do wonder what the future would look like apart from this need to use the cross to justify our disrespectful and inhumane treatment of others. A cross that embraced the suffering of others and helped them develop hope from that suffering instead of causing that very suffering is a vastly different sort of cross; and a church that shunned the cross of empire in favor of Jesus himself would be a very different church.

Read more

Thoughts on “A Jesus Manifesto”

Posted on

I have to say that I’m disappointed in Frank Viola’s and Len Sweet’s latest internet push “A Magna Carta for Restoring the Supremacy of Jesus Christ, a.k.a. A Jesus Manifesto for the 21st Century Church.” Besides the crazy presumptuous title and slight affront to jesusmanifesto.com (which Mark has addressed nicely), the document really seems to be a step backward for the church. In essence “A Jesus Manifesto” calls Christians back to a Christ-centered faith. Which, in general, is something I heartily support. And, in fact, there is much in the document that I completely agree with. But when they say stuff like “What is Christianity? It is Christ. Nothing more. Nothing less.”, I start to have problems.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a Christ-centered faith. And unfortunately those of us who are uncomfortable with the document are now being accused of wanting to ignore Christ or question his divinity. So let me say upfront, that is not the case. Christ is central. Period. But the assertion that Christianity – the movement of the followers of Christ – is nothing more or less than the person of Christ just really seems to miss the point.

The attack and reason for the document springs from the talk about the Kingdom of God and social justice within emerging missional communities. Viola and Sweet insist that such talk turns Jesus into an abstraction and tempts us to ignore the person of Jesus. They say “Jesus Christ was not a social activist nor a moral philosopher. To pitch him that way is to drain his glory and dilute his excellence. Justice apart from Christ is a dead thing.” I’m sorry guys, but Jesus was both of those things. He can’t be reduced to those things, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t embody those things as well. To say that is all he was would yes, drain his glory, but to say he wasn’t those things too denies reality. What is going on here is really a discussion of which image of Jesus we want to embrace – a niche Jesus of one extreme or another or the full Jesus.  More on that in a bit.

My main problem with the document lies in their assumption that those of us talking about justice and the kingdom are doing so apart from the person and power of Jesus. That’s just plain and simply not true. But it has become the favorite straw man argument for the opponents of the emerging missional community. I think in many ways it is based on a misunderstanding of us that projects the theology and history of the classic liberal social gospel movement onto the missional movement. Len Sweet even admitted that the document sprung in part from the lessons he’s learned from teaching a class on the history of the Social Gospel movement in early 20th century America. And while that movement was influenced by theological discussions that questioned the divinity of Christ and sought to find the “historical Jesus,” it is unfair and inappropriate to assume the same thing of the emerging missional movement.

I don’t know how many times we have to stand up and say that caring for the Kingdom, seeking justice, and loving others is all about choosing to focus more on Christ. As Christians we believe in him and follow him. He said, if you love me you will obey me. Not “if you love me, you will worship a ethereal, conceptualized version of me that is disembodied from action and the world I came to save.” When following Jesus becomes simply about doing works or simply about standing in awe of a divine person then we’ve got problems – and a Jesus that has nothing to do with the Jesus of the Bible. Those images of Christ are dangerous, but what I see the manifesto doing is attacking a (projected) incomplete image in favor of another incomplete image.

While Viola and Sweet may personally think that following the commands of Jesus is part of what it means to be a Christian (although they say it is just about Christ), to tell others that talking about the commands of Jesus takes the focus off of Jesus is unhelpful in the extreme. I grew up only hearing about the person of Jesus. Jesus is divine, he did miracles, I am to believe and worship (be in awe of) him. Nothing more. Ever. It is naive to believe that just by presenting this Jesus, people will start doing all that he commanded if those commands aren’t allowed to be talked about. For instance, my daughter attended one night of a neighborhood backyard bible club this week. Her lesson was on Jesus serving the poor and healing the sick. The takeaway was that Jesus did miracles so therefore we have to believe in him. No mention at all of the “go and do likewise” aspect of being a follower of Christ. At this same club, the leader presented the Wordless Book, but after doing the Gold (heaven), Dark (sin), Red (Jesus), White (substitutionary atonement) pages she turned to the Green page and couldn’t remember what it was for. (the green page, btw, is the grow in one’s faith page). It was the perfect representation of a faith that focuses on the need to believe in the person of Jesus to the exclusion of following Jesus. This is the faith I grew up with – one that cares a lot about the person of Jesus but which doesn’t even talk about following his commandments. An impotent faith that essentially tells Jesus that we don’t love him enough to obey his commands.

It is because I love Jesus that I talk about and pursue justice and the kingdom. Even Viola and Sweet mention that “the teachings of Jesus cannot be separated from Jesus himself.” I just wish they wouldn’t falsely accuse us of doing that. And I wish they wouldn’t encourage these dichotomized versions of Jesus by criticizing the actual following of his commands. It is a step backward into the faith my daughter witnessed the other night at the Bible club, and truly unhelpful to the church in the long run. I love Jesus, but I want nothing to do with a faith that is disembodied, disconnected, and impotent. I want to believe in, worship, and follow Christ (since those are all technically one and the same). I’m sorry, but a real Jesus Manifesto wouldn’t be about such a one-sided incomplete image of Jesus. No – it would present Jesus in the fullness of the gospels and not be afraid to tell Christians that following Christ involves a heck of a lot more than standing there slack-jawed in awe of him. I’d love that message to get out to the world, but this, “A Jesus Manifesto” was simply a disappointment in that regard.

Read more

Stories That Mean Something

Posted on

So for the last month or so, Mike and I have been watching the Firefly DVDs. Now that we’ve seen them and the movie, we can now join in on the “what a fantastic show, what idiot cancelled something that good???” outcry. I like good stories – stories that go deeper than mere entertainment, that take the time to explore the human condition. Stories that ask questions and in doing so run up against the mysteries of the universe.

Of course, most of these good stories fall into the SciFi/Fantasy realm. There is something about that genre that allows for the unknown to be explored and tested. And there is something about those of us who are drawn to those stories that allow for them to be lengthy tales. Part of the magic in something like Lost for example is the convoluted drawn-out path the story has taken. Having cut our teeth on epic tales like Lord of the Rings or three part stories like Star Wars, we want worlds we can enter and stay for awhile. That’s why I think Deep Space Nine is my favorite Star Trek series – we got to see a continuing story of a community unfold. So it was sad to get caught up in the Firefly story and have it cut short before it even really began.

But it made me wonder why so many of us within the emerging church are caught-up in these sorts of stories. During the spring it seemed like every person on my twitter page was watching Lost as the mystery unfolded and deepened. I wonder if in part it is our affinity for these ever-developing stories that brought us to the emerging conversation in the first place. Too many faith communities act as if the story is over – as if the story of our faith was merely a static event of the past that holds no mystery or wonder for us now. That sort of story isn’t engaging or alive and can only be entered into in the most perfunctory of ways. But those of us who had an inking that there is some sort of epic tale unfolding around us and who believe that God in all his mystery is still at work in the world wanted to join our friends at a campfire and tell better stories. And we find ourselves watching together the good stories like Lost, or Firefly, or Lord of the Rings, or The Matrix because in them we see glimmers of the stories we want to affirm we are a part of. Or as Sam says in Lord of the Rings, “Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why.”

So what stories hold the mystery for you? What are the good stories you watch or read that go deeper than just entertainment?

Read more

The Burden of Inclusion Should Rest Upon ‘Insiders’

Posted on

As I process the conversations I had recently at EVDC09 (a gathering of emerging church participants to discuss the future of Emergent Village), I realized that one of the topics that keeps surfacing in relation to Emergent Village is that of the inclusivity of all voices. Critiques have been made (with good reason) regarding how EV often seems like a club for insiders. Heck, I’ve even said that before — wishing that more voices could be heard as part of this conversation. And as I’ve mentioned before, this critique is not so often based on reality as it is on the perception of reality. So even if all voices/people have always been welcomed, that welcome or presence hasn’t been seen by wider audiences and so is perceived not to exist.

Even amidst the group gathered this past weekend we had to confront the feeling of being an outsider. On one hand we had to admit that from a certain perspective the 23 of us gathered in a room to discuss the future of Emergent Village screamed “insider.” Just the act of gathering like that might imply to some that we were on the inside of some secret society that held all the power. But in fact as we confessed to each other that first evening, we all felt like outsiders, wondering why we were there.

This feeling is not something I am unfamiliar with at all. For a long while my interactions with Emergent came through reading the books and occasionally going to hear some big-name author speak. Sure I participated in online discussions and a local cohort, but I didn’t feel like I had a voice within Emergent as a whole. My experience attending the 2005 Emergent Convention in Nashville only confirmed that outsider status. For reference, I attended with my 3-month-old daughter and was under the impression that I would never again be a fully-functioning human being (much less get a full night of sleep). I recall attending the Emerging Women lunch and feeling very overwhelmed and worthless as all the other women at my table talked about their seminary experience and recent conversations on their blogs. So while I resonated and came alive with everything I heard there, I felt like I could never truly belong.

Same thing at the 2006 Emergent Glorietta Gathering. I felt like I was crashing a party of really good friends. But after that event, as I started connecting online with the people I had met at the Gathering, relationships were built. I slowly realized that being part of the Emergent conversation simply meant making the effort to be a part of it. So for better or worse, I jumped in — hosting blogs and events to help facilitate the conversation. Did that turn me into an insider? Maybe. To me it just felt like joining the conversation.

But at the same time I completely understand the barriers that are still perceived to exist. And those barriers were talked about this weekend. No matter how often we in Emergent say we are open source or about shared power, if people can’t easily perceive and access that then our words have no value. So there need to be deliberate steps taken to listen to the voices of the many, to link to the diversity of voices within the conversation, and to make invitations to join the conversation (both publicly and privately) up front and apparent. Unless leadership is transparent and invitations for involvement continually offered, the perception of a closed group of insiders will persist. Granted, there will always be some that will be angry about being on the outside unless they (or at least their special-interest group) is handed power, and that can’t be helped. But the truth is being part of Emergent often means being willing to put in the work of stepping up, using their voice, and working for the good of the whole. It’s about choosing to serve and share power — always extending invitations to the Other.

So of course we have a long way to go to reach a point of true openness; there is no denying that. And while we can say that all are welcome if they will just step up to the conversation, I think the burden of inclusion should be on us who are already comfortable as part of the conversation. We need to be the ones extending invitations, welcoming others in, and making it easy for them to be a part of the conversation.

So while we may not see ourselves as insiders, we are at the very least in a place where we can at least blur the perceived line between insiders and outsiders. Because in the end those desiring to be a part of this conversation are all in the same place. We all struggle, we all question, and we all desire a community to do all that together with. I think Amy Moffitt described it best in her reflection this past weekend:

The truth, of course, is that there really isn’t an inside. There are folks who know a little more than other folks, but it became apparent — to me at least — that every single person there is an exile in some sense. We came together, believing in the real worth of Emergent Village, because it has served as a meeting place for us

Read more

Announcing Christianity 21

Posted on

Christianity 21: Faith in the 21st Century
21 Voices
21 Ideas
21 Minutes Each

We live in a time of epochal change.

Many find this change exciting; for others, it’s a challenge. Call it globalization, pluralization, or postmodernism, this change affects our economy, politics, government, and education—all of society. And, of course, our faith and our churches are not immune to change.

So we have gathered 21 of the most important voices for the future of Christianity—21 voices for the 21st century—to speak into our future as people of faith in this age. They represent a diverse array of backgrounds, interests, and passions, and they will provide a wide range of innovative and challenging presentations.

Christianity21 is less a conference and more a happening, an event—a gathering of voices and ideas that will shape the future of our faith. And to the 21 voices, we want you to add your voice, whether you’re a seeker or skeptic, leader or layperson, disciple or doubter.

We hope you consider joining your voice to ours at Christianity21.

Friday, October 9 – Sunday, October 11
Colonial Church of Edina
6200 Colonial Way
Minneapolis, MN 55436
$195

I am really excited about this event. I’ll can’t wait to hear from these presenters, and I get to join them as I will be speaking on “seeking justice in the everyday” I think this will be a gathering where we can really dig deep and explore where faith is headed in the 21st century. We can’t ignore that changes are happening around us, and I appreciate the opportunity to think out loud with others about what this all means. So stick it on your calenders and plan on join us in October!

Read more