Category: Emerging Church

Claiming Emergent

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So apparently the trend this past week has been to publicly declare if one is in or out with the whole emerging/emergent thing. I have a mixed reaction to the discussion. On one hand I want to admit that yes, I am Emergent and have no problem supporting that group. But on the other hand, I find the whole process of drawing lines and declaring teams to be a bit silly. So in my near incoherent ramblings that seem to be my modus operandi these days (getting computer time in 5 minute snatches is starting to get annoying…) I’ll try to explain what I mean.

I’m Done With Pretending
I’ve spent far too much time in recent years playing a role that was not who I am. I existed in church circles where I let others assume I was just like them. I knew who I was (my politics, my theology, my cultural habits) did not fit into their box of what a good little suburban evangelical woman should be. So I let them assume lies about me instead of rocking the boat. I’m done with that (okay, I’m attempting to be done with that). I am part of this emerging/emergent conversation and I am not going to hide from that. Sure I could use whatever euphemisms I desire, but in all truth the emerging/Emergent label fits who I am. Sure there are numerous people out there that don’t understand what those things mean. They hear the term “emerging church” and assume we burn our bibles, worship Satan, and eat or children (or something similar). Do I choose to lie to make up for their stupidity, ignorance, and closed-mindedness? I will try to be upfront and transparent with what I believe, if others would rather believe hearsay about me, then that is their problem. All too often we emergents are accused of not caring about truth – at this point I’d rather be truthful about who I am than let the misunderstanding and judgements of others force me to hide.

This is My Tribe
I am at home with the emergent crowd. For the most part I agree with the books written by Emergent leaders. I’m not following them with mindless devotion or joining a personality cult as some have accused (in order to dismiss the whole idea and avoid real discussion). But I like the ideas that they are discussing and have resonated with their faith journeys. I’ve appreciated the resources provided by Emergent and have benefited from the networks it created. I have my criticisms of Emergent and have even expressed them here. But I like to think that I do so as part of the group not as an outside critic. I have found a community with Emergent and want to help shape it into the best it can be.

I am not afraid or organization but neither do I see Emergent as my church or denomination. The fears that others have expressed on that issue are lost on me. I am very low church and have never been too fond of denominations (possibly the result of my non-denom Bible church upbringing). By affiliating with Emergent I am not joining a new denomination, but neither am I abandoning any other (since I have none to abandon). There has been much talk recently about the need to just bring the emerging conversation into existing congregations and denominations. Phyllis Tickle recently wrote about –

…churches and congregations that are moving to embrace emergent Christian thought while melding it with extant and/or historic expressions of the faith. They are known as the hyphenateds. They are the presbymergents and methomergents, the luthermergents, and the baptimergents, the submergents and the anglimergents, etc. They fascinate me more even than do completely emergent congregations, because they seem to me to be engaged in the more difficult task of bringing to the party the best of two worlds, the ancient and the future. They are hyphenated, in other words, because they seek to meld the DNA and passion and post-modern theology of a new form of Christianity with the extant body and operative history of an established tradition.

As much as I love Phyllis Tickle, I do not see myself in her description of churches. I don’t have a tradition to meld and am really not interested in joining one for the mere sake of claiming a tradition. So while others can have a great time being hyphenateds, I am a low-church mutt who has no problem calling gathering with other like minded believers “church.” I’ve found where I belong and I am going to claim it. I don’t fear too much or too little organization nor am I wary of labels. I just want to be part of the community.

I Like Diversity
Missional, Emergent, emerging, ancient/future… Do we really have to each be separate and distinct groups that have nothing to do with each other? Sure there are widely different expression of faith among each of them, but do we have to build walls and delineate boundaries so intricately? I know that this might just be me, but I’m okay with ambiguity. I like agreeing to disagree. A huge value in our old church was that it was okay to disagree with each other as a worshiping community. I didn’t have to have my identity spelled out for me by someone else nor was I afraid to associate with people who weren’t exactly like me. I like being part of the emerging conversation where some people are experimenting radically with worship, others exploring what it means to live missionally, and still others digging deep into theology. Some of us are doing all of those things (and more), others simply desire to engage in one or two aspects of the conversation. But we are all part of the discussion, repeated for every generation and era, of what it means to be a follower of Christ in our world. I’d rather us coexist than have certain streams take their ball and go play somewhere else. In the past I’ve heard people reject the emerging church for theological reasons, recently I’ve begun to hear people reject us because of our infighting. They see a splintered group with various factions seeking dominion over each other. So instead of unraveling into such rigid and modern subsets, I’d prefer us to accept postmodern ambiguity and coalesce as a diverse and inclusive (albeit hard to define) community. Would loving and accepting and supporting each other really be that difficult?

So I claim the term Emergent, but find this whole labeling war a bit silly. Does it really matter who’s in or out? Have we abandoned humility and love of neighbor so that we can each get our way? Of course all of this is messy and awkward. Of course we will disagree from time to time. Of course we will have to be generous and understanding with each other. But isn’t all that just a normal part of being a Christ follower trying to live faithfully each and every day?

(and yes, I see how these thoughts could be called merely naive. I’d prefer to call them simply frustrated but hopeful…)

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Slouching Towards Bethlehem

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Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity. 

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

– W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming

I remember that this poem captured my imagination back when I was in high school. Yeats’ personal beliefs held that history moved in 2000 year cycles as represented by conical spirals. One spiral represented religious power and the other secular powers. As history unfolded, these “gyres” increased and decreased in inverse proportions. Every 2000 years a major upheaval occurred for each. So around the birth of Christ, the secular Empire of Rome was at its strongest and religious power weak. But at that moment, history shifted with the birth of Christ. Religion increased in power for the next 1000 years then started to decrease as scientific advances began giving secular systems the edge. To Yeats, as the year 2000 approached and religion spiraled down to its weakest point, the stage was set for some great change to occur. And so he asked – “what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

While I didn’t buy into Yeat’s occult beliefs in dualistic powers guiding the unfolding of history, I recognized the truth behind the patterns and changes in history he described. History, especially religious history, does seem to function in cycles of a sort. One witnesses some great event or renewal movement that inspires a few generations but which dwindles in influence and power over time. Eventually its power and passion have become so weak that a new renewal occurs starting the cycle over again. It is fascinating to trace these sorts of developments through history.

So I’ve been intrigued to hear Phyllis Tickle speaking and writing on these historical trends recently. I assume this is the topic of her upcoming book The Great Emergence, but I’ve heard her speak on it recently on the Mars Hill podcasts and to Sojourners Magazine. She describes that every 500 years, there is upheaval and renewal in the church – and that we are in one of those times right now. The zeitgeist of the age, the issues in the world, and the moving of the Holy Spirit all conspire to effect great change. Phyllis Tickle is calling our current change the “great emergence” – referring not just to the emerging church, but to all the reforming movements in the church today. I look forward to reading her book and hearing more of her perspective on the matter.

But what amuses me the most is that the current changes occurring in the church (and the ones in the past for that matter) were viewed as a malevolent force more reminiscent of Yeat’s “rough beast” than the movings of the Holy Spirit. Change is feared and its harbingers vilified (if I hear one more person refer to Brian McLaren as the antichrist…). The calls of the reformers are not properly understood and often seen as a rejection of all that has come before. While it may be difficult to convince some that questioning and critique is not rejection (or arrogance), I think Yeat’s imagery could prove useful in this case. The widening gyres represent a continuous unfolding of history that expands and contracts, but never breaks away fully from its spherical path. What one experiences is a shift not a genesis. Accepting that perspective may help some more easily dwell within the unfolding of history.

With Yeats’ I agree that “things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.” But I believe that to be a good thing – the impetus that pushes us to renewal and revival.

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Laughing at Ourselves

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So I followed the links recently to Michael Kruse’s Why did the Emergent Chicken Cross the Road. I read it, it was cute, I smirked. Yet as I thought about it later, I realized how odd posts like that are. Think about it. How often is it commonly accepted to simple state the beliefs and practices of a religious group as the punchline of a joke? If those statements had been about evangelical “chickens” instead of emergent, would the response have been the same? Would such outright mocking be accepted if it was directed at anyone else? It’s not that I find the list (or others like it) offensive, it’s just that I’ve noticed that Emergents are expected to take such mocking in stride. In fact if we are offended by things like that we are mocked even further and told to get over ourselves. At the same time if any of us criticize the beliefs of another group (not even in a mocking way) we are derided as unfair and accused of thinking of ourselves as better than others. I’m all for taking criticism and being willing to laugh at oneself, I just find the double standard curious.

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Thoughts on Emergent Gatherings

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I assume most emerging folks have heard by now that the Glorietta Emergent Gathering as it has been will no longer be occurring (more info here). It’s apparently grown too organized, too structured, too different than what it once was. Given those changes the organizers are shutting it down to make room for other sorts of gatherings/events. While I understand the rationale behind the decision, I find it a bit sad. Granted I was never part of the early days of the Gathering. As hard as I tried to make it in earlier years, I was only able to attend the past two Gatherings. So apparently all I saw was the more structured, on-ramp for the newbies sort of event. And I guess I was one of those newbies trying to find my place and my voice in this conversation. I got to hear the reminisces of the “good old days” and the complaints about how things have changed, but I also seriously appreciated what I experienced. And personally I’m going to miss that.

We are being encouraged instead to seek out local events or to put them on ourselves as alternatives to the Gathering. On one hard this is a great idea. Finding others in one’s area to meet with and provide encouragement to through things like cohorts is a wonderful thing. And having put on a few local emerging conferences, I know the value of those events as well. Those are times for like-minded people bound by geography to find each other. I’ve had fun at these events and have been blessed by the people I encounter there. Sometimes these things develop into ongoing community, sometimes they don’t. As we’ve discovered with the Chicago cohort, we have an email list of over 300 contacts, but rarely see more than a dozen at any given gathering. Often people show up once or twice, attend the big events with the big name speakers, ask to be part of the network, affirm that they aren’t crazy for asking these questions, and then never plug into community. It meets a need, often a very vital need in their faith journey, but lacks a certain something for those of us committed to the emergent community for the long haul.

While I have met some wonderful people though the local events, cohorts, and conferences, I still find that most of my emerging interactions occur online. My community is scattered across the states (and the world). There are members of this community who I have only met at the big trans-regional events like the Gathering. So while I still love the idea of and will continue to help organize regional events (yes I am think of a Texas Emerging Women gathering soon), I’m going to miss the opportunity to connect with the larger emergent family. And while the idea of a National EV Conference is appealing, I doubt it will be as open-source, fun, and inexpensive as the Gathering. I doubt we will see whole families there or have the chance to cook meals together. So I’m going to miss the family reunion/pilgrimage that was the Gathering. And I’m curious how it’s absence will affect the nature of the conversation – will it truly spark more grass-roots conversations or will everything just default towards more and more structure? In other words, how can the spirit of the Gathering be maintained without the Gathering itself actually existing?

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Jesus and Compassion

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I read something in the comments the other day over at Eugene Cho’s blog that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. The post was in relation to the whole Seeds of Compassion event. I’ve been slightly disturbed by the outcry from some sects of the faith as to why Christians (Doug Pagitt and Rob Bell specifically, apparently Desmond Tutu doesn’t count to evangelicals) would participate in an event with the Dalai Lama and other non-Christians. Then after the fact the complaints turned into certain voices getting their panties all in a bunch because those guys didn’t give the four spiritual laws or something. I tried to ignore those fringe voices trying to cause trouble, the whole idea of not being in dialogue with people of all faiths is so farcical that it hardly deserves comment. But then I started hearing other issues raised – ones I found infinitely more disturbing. This comment illustrates the issue well –

Christ does not call Christians to ‘make the world more compassionate and a better place’. Christ calls us to proclaim the Gospel message of Christ Crucified for sinners. This message is not compatible with any other religion or spirituality.

The idea was that Christians have no place at an event discussing compassion since that has nothing to do with Jesus. I don’t deny that we are called to proclaim the Gospel (although I have a feeling that I might differ with the commenter on what exactly that involves), but to say that Jesus didn’t call us to spread compassion? Has this person read the Bible? Ever? Does she ignore the story of the good Samaritan and the subsequent command to “go and do likewise.”? Or ignore Jesus’ call to give food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and care for the least of these? Or Jesus’ proclamation that he came to set the oppressed free? Or his commands to love, bless, and pray for even our enemies? Or his response when he witnessed the lack of compassion in the Temple?

Often when some of us talk about the full Gospel, or about reclaiming the message of Jesus, we are told “but everyone believes that anyway” (implying we should stop talking about it).  The idea is that just because it isn’t talked about, or takes a secondary place to preaching a doctrinal formation doesn’t mean that people have forgotten about it. But here I see the full extent of the dichotomy between doctrine and the Bible in action. When some can claim that being a Christian has nothing to do with making the world more compassionate I know petty prejudices have usurped scripture.

Perhaps since such commenters refuse to engage with people of other faiths, they may not have heard how many people see Christianity as utterly irrelevant because of this dichotomy. I’ve heard numerous people dismiss Christianity because all we care about is converting people to our club and not about meeting their real needs. They have not heard of Christ’s call to love, to give aid, and to make disciples who do the same. This truncated Gospel not only distorts scripture, it hurts our message. I would prefer truth to be discussed and demonstrated, but sadly that doesn’t always happen.  But even more disturbing – are there really people who think compassion is a bad thing? how has the church let this happen?

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Guilt and Unity

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Something I often find myself struggling with is the call to be unified with other believers and my ability to put up with crap (to put it bluntly). I know I should get a better attitude and try to be more open and understanding and all that, but it honestly is a struggle. It’s not that I don’t intellectually acknowledge that we are all part of the church universal or that I don’t see other believers as brothers and sisters in Christ. But there are times when spiritually I just can’t handle week after week of soul-crushing interaction, theology, or worship. And I’m really sick of being made to feel guilty because of it.

Recently I have encountered numerous accusations against the emerging church that we are an elitist denomination who doesn’t know how to play well with others. Because we express dissenting opinions or rethink the mechanics of church, we are the outsiders who are destroying the church. If we would just shut up and deal then all unity will be restored or something. To an extent I understand that. There is so much division in the church that even unintentionally causing more is difficult for me. But the conditions of such unity are often too hard to accept. If I have to stop thinking and asking questions is it worth it? If I have to accept that shallow prayer requests, trendy music, and listening to lectures is all I need for spiritual growth? If I have to pretend that fill-in-the-blank “bible” studies (followed by craft time) are the only theology women need? Or that my highest calling is to be a good mom? I can understand that such things might work for some people, but I can’t do it. So why am I constantly told that I am wrong and divisive because of that?

I’ve heard from so many others who have completely left the church because of these issues. If they didn’t fit into one particular packaging of the church they were made to feel guilty. And of course leaving the church for the demonized denomination down the street was out of the question, so they just stopped going to church. The homogeneous one size fits all church appears to be all about unity of faith, but in reality how many people have had their faith destroyed because of it? I have way more questions than answers here. And I am sure that I’ve offended traditionalists of a variety of stripes. But as I become more comfortable with who I am and with choosing to seek God, I get more and more disturbed by the accusations leveled against me by those who boxes I don’t fit into.

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Rumors and Lies

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So this has been a busy week again. Sorry for the lack of posts, comments, or returned emails. I’m working on it. So once again I give you a weekend rant out of frustration.

This past week on Andrew Jones’ blog, he hosted some comments from Chuck Colson who was promoting his new book The Faith. Now I’ve not been a fan of Colson for awhile now. I remember being disappointed when he was chosen to speak at my college graduation, appalled by his CT opinion piece saying that not dressing up for airplane trips is a sign of the moral decay of our society, and always uncomfortable with his personal definitions of postmodernism. But I know he’s popular in certain circles and is the voice for some segments of Christianity. So I generally quietly disagree and just try and ignore him. I was a bit offended though by his comments this past week when he wrote (about his book) – “You will notice in chapter 4 of the book that I distinguish between the “emergent community” which rejects the Bible, and the “emerging movement.” There’s much about the emerging movement that I applaud.”

I know others have commented on how absurd that statement is, asking for him to name just one emergent church that rejects the bible. While the part of me that stands for truth and reality echos that call, I know that such an accusation is easily flung about (it surfaced here just this past week). “Rejecting the Bible” is of course code for “does’t think the same way as I do.” But it is never phrased that way. “Think as I do” is warped into “biblical” or “how all Christians have always believed.” I’ve written here before that such concepts are basically a myth and demonstrate a complete lack of historical perspective. The assumption that the modern evangelical belief of the last 150 years or so represent “all Christians ever” is fairly arrogant, but apparently it’s easier to believe the myth than act humbly.

I guess I’m just sick of the repeated accusations that I reject the Bible. People who don’t know me (or other emergents) revel in spreading this lie and refuse to accept the truth of our actual beliefs and experiences. Do they hate and fear us so much that they choose falsehood over the truth? Yes we may disagree, arrive at different interpretations, or develop divergent doctrines. But “rejecting the Bible”? Are you kidding? I know how I interact with the Bible. I dig deep into it each week, I see it as God’s word, I let it teach and inspire me. I desire to discover more about it and the world it describes. I don’t worship it, or make it fit into modern boxes. But I most assuredly don’t reject it. So I would appreciate it if people would stop spreading rumors that I (and my friends) do. Talk to us, engage (gasp) with us, disagree with us, but stop telling lies about us. Please.

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Integrity in Faith

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I’ve been making my way through Krista Tippett’s new book Speaking of Faith recently and have enjoyed her reflections on her personal faith journey. I always find myself intrigued by her radio program by that name, but hearing from her own experiences has helped me better understand how she engages so brilliantly with representatives of so many faith traditions. At one point in the book, she explores how she became aware of the wideness of the Christian tradition and how that sustained her faith. Her background was in a rather fundamentalist Baptist tradition and as she returned to faith as an adult she desired to only return there “with open eyes, rigor of thought and speech, and the same powers of reasoning [she] expected of [her]self in the rest of [her] life.” As she wrestled with the process of accepting where she had been while still moving forward with integrity in her faith, she quotes a few lines from T.S. Eliot –

Of all that was done in the past, you eat the fruit,
either rotten or ripe
And the Church must be forever building, and always
decaying, and always being restored.

I love that image of church – accepting what has come before and yet always moving forward. It portrays a church, a faith, that is alive – ready to affect the world it inhabits. I find such an image hopeful and know that similar realizations have saved the faith of many (especially in the emerging church). We want a faith that stands up to questions and doesn’t reject us for merely framing those questions. We want a faith that serves the world in life-giving ways. It is a blessing to finally discover a faith like Ms. Tippett did that pushes us beyond disillusionment and can still inspire and transform us without limits.

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Book Review – The New Christians

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I recently read Tony Jones’ new book The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier and I have to say that I thought it was a great book – a needed and welcomed contribution at this stage in the emerging church conversation. This is the book to read to understand the history of this thing called emergent and the passions of those of us drawn to it. I’m not going to do a strict review of the book here, others have done sufficient jobs at that, but I just want to list what it is I liked about the book and why think it’s a helpful addition to the conversation.

First, to be completely narcissistic, I enjoyed reading Tony’s story of his journey into Emergent because it echoed so much of my own experience. I know that he has received criticism for not being inclusive enough of various forms of emerging thought in this book, but he makes it clear in the book that he is telling the story of his own experiences, the groups he has encountered, and the friends he has made. Sure not everyone encounters emerging/Emergent thought in the exact same way he did but he doesn’t assume to tell everyone’s story. He gives snapshots of where he has encountered the conversation and summarizes the trends he is witnessing. Some people may not see themselves reflected in this book, but for those of us who have trod similar paths as Tony, it is affirming to have part of our story told. This book represents our reality – from the questions, to the conferences, to the online emphasis, to the conversations. I appreciated reading the history of people I know which helps me better understand who they are. I like that I can point at this book and its description of Emergent and say – “this represents me, I am unashamedly a part of this, this can help you understand where I’ve been and what I am doing now.”

I also like that Tony isn’t afraid to tell the truth about the messy parts of Christianity and emergent. The messy parts exist and many in this conversation have experienced pain because of them. While I have heard some crying out for disagreements to be hidden and ignored in the name of unity, I think such action causes more problems in the long run. Generally the voices calling for “unity” implicate whoever isn’t the dominant voice as the troublemaker. Those asking questions and pushing for reform are told to toe the party line and stop rocking the boat (silenced by cliche for the sake of Jesus and the church of course). Instead of addressing the issues and working through them one is labeled heretical for having questions at all. It’s all a bit farcical. So I appreciate Tony’s willingness to say that yes Emergent has critics, yes there have been falling outs, and yes some people have refused to play ball with us. It’s reality and hiding from it won’t help resolve differences. And its high time, imho, the truth was told that its not just emergents causing the problems.

I appreciated the way Tony dealt with the issues of homosexuality and women in ministry. Instead of dealing with each as “issues,” he just told the stories of real people. He was inclusive and affirming in practice while not alienating in dogma. Of course this could just mean he pisses off everyone on both sides of these issues, but I thought he was fair in how he approached such controversial topics.

I enjoyed his affirmation of how popular culture shapes our reality. There are streams in the emerging church that refuse to condescend to popular culture. One often feels like one needs to apologize for watching TV or for listening to mainstream music around other emergents. I liked how Tony used popular culture as metaphors and as keys to understand the forces shaping the conversation. I prefer this thoughtful engagement to the snobbishly turning up of the noses I often expect in emergent circles.

There were of course other stories and ideas throughout the book that I enjoyed, just as there were a few things I questioned and a couple of things that I found annoying (the layout). But this is a good book, well worth the read. I just thought I’d ramble on here about a few of the reasons I personally liked the book, but honestly, if you want to know more about emergent, understand where it came from, or just hear the stories of real people who are a part of it – read this book.

(and Tony, sorry for such a scattered response to your book. It really is a good book, deserving of much more coherent thoughts than this. Thanks for writing it.)

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Life of the Mind – Part 1

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Over the next few days I want to put some thoughts out here on my blog about the life of the mind. And yes, I like to think and read books so this will in many ways be a defense of intellectualism. I’ve just encountered various accusations recently that attempt to ridicule or at least make one feel guilty for being intellectual, so I feel the need to address some of those ideas.

The first topic came up as part of our conversation at up/rooted last night. The accusation what that emerging church leaders are all too intellectual and focused on cognitive ideas. They try to change people’s hearts by presenting ideas instead of helping people have a relationship with with Jesus. It was mentioned that the books and the blogs are heavy on theology and ideas and not on worship and contemplation. These books give theological reasons for why we should say help the poor instead of encouraging us to pray for conviction or just go out and serve. Someone also mentioned that they were really disappointed in how at the Midwest Emergent Gathering last summer all the big name leaders skipped out on every worship session to blog or hang out. In essence, the charge was that the EC is just about ideas and not about being in a relationship with God.

I personally saw some underlying truth in that argument, but disagreed with some of its assumptions. The basic flaw in the argument, in my opinion, is the assumption that people can’t worship or connect with God through books, discussion, and theology. Those things apparently teach one about God, but only prayer, contemplation, and worship can help one actually get to know God. This is an argument that I’ve heard many times before and one I strongly disagree with. I do connect to God through things like books and theology and I find things like singing and contemplation forced and hollow. I’ve been told my whole life that the only real way to connect with God is through those acts and that there must be something wrong with me if it wasn’t working for me. And when I did draw closer to God through intellectual pursuits I was informed that I wasn’t really engaged in worship or true relationship. It all served to make me feel rather inadequate as a Christian. But those assumptions just aren’t true. My experience and the experiences of others I know demonstrate that intellectual paths are just as meaningful and valid ways of relating to God as the more emotional and mystical. Discovering things about God and what he has done does connect us to him. I won’t deny that basic reality any longer and I refuse to let others invalidate my spirituality just because it doesn’t look the same as theirs.

That said, I think there are a lot fewer people who connect to God intellectually than emotionally or mystically. And most of us who do connect intellectually have ended up in positions where our voices are the ones that get heard – pastors, speakers, bloggers, writers… When people hear emerging church leaders, the life of the mind is generally the primary option presented. Add to that the voices accusing us then of not being truly spiritual and problems arise. Unless we want to be utterly ineffective in our message or scare away those with different spirituality languages, more of a balanced perspective needs to be presented. I don’t like the false accusation that I am not spiritual, but I also can’t assume that everyone should connect to God intellectually (although intellectually learning about God is necessary, but that’s another day’s topic).

So what does this mean on a practical level? I think it will take some willingness to accept others by everyone. It might take some leaders affirming practices they might personally find trivial (praise choruses and prayer journals spring to my mind), but it will also take the majority of Christians being willing to expand their conceptions of spirituality as well. Continuing to dichotomize the life of the mind and spirituality is not healthy for the church or the emerging movement. Affirming these different paths to God so to speak may be the only thing that will lead to mutual understanding and appreciation. At least it will acknowledge that God is God and isn’t limited in how he connects with each of us.

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