Evangelism is NOT a dirty word

Evangelism tends to be a dirty word in progressive church circles. We still define evangelism as people "pushing their gospel on us." We picture people on the street (or worse, coming to our door) handing us a flyer and trying to "save our soul." We understand evangelism to be oppressive and mean spirited.

But...I LOVE EVANGELISM. Really, I do. And here's why:

"Evangelism is anything you do to help another person move closer to a relationship with God and/or into Christian community." Martha Grace Rees

Evangelism is anything we do that touches someone's life in a meaningful way and moves them closer to God or a faith community. Evangelism is welcoming people to be a part of our family of faith, it's loving on them, sharing a meal or a smile or a hug. Evangelism is telling our story of the one who loves us and why we love others...even those nobody loves.

And you know what? It's time to reclaim this "dirty word" evangelism because it is our call. It is our mission. It's biblical. Furthermore, we're already doing it. Why let someone else define it for us?

This week I have been back in school learning about a new scorecard for evangelism. Instead of counting the number of bums in pews, we're measuring our influence.... on the web, through social media, to the entire world!! That's really our mission right? Share the gospel...take it to the ends of the world. That's what any media (newspaper, radio, TV, telephone, text, tweet, like, share, etc) is doing. It is allowing us to share and spread our story in a new, evolving, exciting way.

We measure how well we evangelize (refer again to the definition as I know you've already forgotten) by measuring our influence. It's both high touch and high tech. High touch because we want the story we tell to be powerful, to be moving, to be worthy of the Jesus we love. High touch is getting the casserole to the family in need, it's providing a shoulder for someone to cry on, it's being fully present with others in a real and loving way. High tech is making the best use of the tools we've been given. It's embracing the new technologies that better connect us. This week we've played with all sorts of new social media (path, prayer engine, basecamp, etc) in churches all over the U.S. and Canada to extend our reach...to further our impact...to evangelize.

Evangelism. It's not dirty at all. It's beautiful. It's powerful. And it's our call.

Religious Tolerance = Weak Christian Identity?

Last week I heard Brian McLaren speak and I'm still chewing on some of what he said. He shared the philosophy that having a common enemy builds a strong identity.

Then he described his observation that there is a strong Christian fundamentalist identity that is built on making another faith (or non faith) group (Muslim, Jews, atheist, etc) the enemy. And there is a weak tolerant Christianity that is unable to make another group the enemy and thus their identity suffers.

McLaren suggests that it doesn't have to be one way or the other. That there is a third way where we can be tolerant of other faiths and still hold onto our own. He does this by making hostility itself the enemy.

I love this way forward. Though, I'm having a hard time moving forward with how this common enemy - hostility- strengthens our common identity. Here's why:

In my generation, many of us who were raised in a tolerant ("weak") Christian identity are choosing not to go to church. We're grateful for our Christian upbringing and take from it that we are to be nice and practice hospitality to others. (McLaren mentioned this, too). But apart from our choice to be nice we're having a hard time CLAIMING Christianity over other faiths or as a faith at all.

I think our identity has to be built on something more than just our commitment to being tolerant and respectful and nice.

Being a ridiculously curious student, I asked McLaren about this and he had a fascinating answer. He said that younger generations need to reclaim rituals and traditions in order to build their new strong identity in Christ.

I've been thinking about this a lot this last week and it seems to hold true for myself and my worshipping community. We're hungry for space, for silence, for meditation, for prayer, for laying on of hands, for communion and baptism. We want to be anointed. We want to find the sacred in the mundane. We want to find God in the mystery, wonder, and awe of our everyday lives.

I wonder how we might reclaim language, too. How we can reclaim our Christian stories and live into those. I'm excited for how worship and service and fellowship space might change to accommodate the new expressions of this new, tolerant, strong Christian identity.

Be Anxious for Nothing

Anxiety is something I've always dealt with. As a young student in elementary school, I remember talking about my anxiety over tests with the teacher because she wanted to understand how I could do so well in class and then freeze on tests. As I got better about managing my stress in school, life decisions began causing anxiety. My desire to make the right choice and choose the best path became an obstacle to my ability to do anything at all. Throughout my life, I've had to continue taking deep breaths and reminding myself to CHILL OUT. To lower my expectations a little and trust that things are going to be alright.

It's a little humorous, though not too humorous, that I now find myself in a stressful role (pastor) for a stressed institution (the Presbyterian church). Our mainline churches (PCUSA included) are facing great financial stress and we're having to address deep rooted questions of how to be the best stewards of what we have left. We're having to discuss the vitality of our church and be open to the Spirit's movement away from the way things have always been done. And not only are we having these stressful conversations, but we're doing them on a timeline (one that no one really knows). We're dealing with decreasing numbers and an apathetic culture. Needless to say, our church is really anxious.

Anxiety can be a good thing. It can lead us to have important conversations and make wiser decisions. It can teach us to sit put for a second and listen more before we act. It teaches us to take each step with caution and realize the ripple effects of our actions. And anxiety can be good because it points to our deep concern for something. Just as my own anxiety at school points to my deep desire to do the best I can, Presbyterians' anxiety points to the fact that we care SO MUCH for the church. We as a church don't want to make the wrong choice or do the wrong thing. We want very much to know the will of God and to follow it.

Anxiety definitely becomes a BAD thing however when we let it take over. When we allow it to paralyze us. When we live and sleep and dream anxiety over making the right decisions and doing the right thing that we can't move forward. We're stuck in the present, longing for an idealized past, and terrified of the future. We turn inwards to ourselves and hold even higher expectations of what we can and should do to make the situation better.

Yet, scripture calls us to do something different:

"Be anxious for nothing. But in all things make your requests known to God and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your mind and heart forever in Jesus Christ." (Philippians 4:6-7)

We need to acknowledge our anxiety concerning the livelihood of the church and recognize this as a sign of our deep commitment and love of the Church. And we also need to let go of the reigns anxiety holds over us and take a huge leap of faith to TRUST God enough to try something new. To dream. To be open to new perspectives. To live into the promise of hope that we are not alone, that God is still alive and at work here.

And when we let go of our desire to control the outcome, we can live out God's promise to us - "that the peace of God will guard our minds and hearts forever in Jesus Christ."

Amen.