The Church and The Gym, Part 2

NOTE: I have no idea what the proper spelling of judgement (judgment) is. I don't really care enough to look it up either.

I reread my post from yesterday. I don't think I was completely clear and I think clarification might show us something that is a little more helpful.

Yesterday when I wrote about the gym I seemed to describe the gym as a completely non-judgmental place. That simply isn't true, no matter how good it sounds. Take yesterday at CrossFit for example. We were doing some back squats and I took on way too much weight. After you've done a few back squats, you're supposed to move up a bit in your weight but my legs were exhausted. I fell out of the next squat. Of course, the whole gym saw me. I couldn't help but think about what they were thinking.

And as much as I'd like to think that they didn't think to themselves, "that guy has no idea what he is doing," my guess is that several of them did. There's no doubt that people observe each other at the gym and judge what they're doing (for better or worse) against what they themselves are doing.

This CAN be good. "Oh, hey, that guy is really keeping his chest up and look how straight his back is!" might allow you to learn from the guy in front of you. But...it can also be bad. "Man, that guy just fell out of his back squat twice," is helpful for neither party. It, perhaps, even encourages a "I'm better than him" mentality that has historically led to a bullied existence in extreme circumstances.

If one were to read my post from yesterday and assume that CrossFit is this magical place where no one judges anyone ever, one would have taken away the wrong image. I like to think that people love watching others succeed and don't consider it when they don't, but that's simply not true. If the rest of the world's people are even half as bad at being a human as I am, then they judge. I know they do because I do.

We see this in the church as well.

Perhaps you're thinking that the vision that I presented yesterday is more of an eschatological one...like this non-judgment state of nirvana is the end goal. But I'm not quite so sure that's it either.

Judgement exists in several forms in both the church and the gym. Maybe understanding that more fully is the key.

See, in the church we do judge people. In fact, I'd argue that we are called to judge people. If that sounds shocking, it's likely that you and I are working with two different definitions of judgement. When I speak of judgement, I don't speak of someone making a judgement and then using that to make one feel like an outsider. I speak of a sense of accountability. My hope is that my judgement is more of an encouragement! The judgement I speak of attempts to spur one on toward Christian perfection, not keep one out of the walls of the church.

So perhaps what I truly mean is that neither the gym nor the church are free of judgement. The care that must be taken within these two bodies is in the type of judgement used. If I fall out of a back squat, I want someone to hold me accountable to the amount of weight I put on the bar and the poor form I executed the squat with. Will that be painful to hear? Perhaps. But if it is done in a mild and encouraging manner (as it often is at CrossFit), I can learn. And...do better than I did last time.

So is the struggle of the church. The church, in fear that it might be forced to apologize for who it is has--in the past 200 years--created this judgement that pushed others away. The intimidation, as I said yesterday, is too much. "All these people speaking another language and judging me."

What if, though, our judgement were initially perceived as an encouragement rather than a judgement? What would it take to pull that off? What might that pastoral tone sound like?

These are all the questions we MUST ask ourselves as Christians. Judgement is something we are called to. But it's not the judgement of this world. It's not the judgement that pushes people away. It's a judgement that has its own set of standards and practices and is unapologetic about that. It's also a judgement that spurs one on toward perfection in an encouraging way. It's one that reassures the judged that a community is standing behind them.

It's not that no one judges in the gym. Neither is it that everyone judges in the church. But...both entities ought to strive for a more encouraging accountability that builds up its members so that they might do better than they did before. I'm happy to say that quite a bit of the good judgement happens at CrossFit. I'm honestly unaware how much of it is currently happening in our churches.

It's a paradigmatic shift and it's one that is needed now in our churches. Pronto.

-B

The Church and The Gym

I once heard a pastor compare joining a church to joining a gym.

I grew up in the church. I was a good little Baptist boy, baptized at a relatively young age, who sang in the children's choirs, youth choir, youth praise band, and yes, when I was empowered, the big church praise band. My family went, primarily, to the contemporary service as my parents were actively involved in the planning and execution of it. Church was fun. I enjoyed going and I can't remember a time in my life when I gave me parents a hard time about going. I was into church.

Moreover, I spoke the language. Christians who are deeply integrated into the life of the church likely know exactly what I'm saying. In the church, we talk about things that the outside world isn't too concerned with talking about. We talk about grace, holiness, and judgment. We sing songs directed toward and about Someone not of this world. In the church, we speak a different language. As a kid who grew up in the church, I spoke the language. I knew what to do and when to do it.

Growing up I wasn't particularly concerned with athleticism (shocker, I know). I was an inside kind of kid who enjoyed watching sports but was pretty awful at participating in them. I was awkward and uncoordinated, generally lazy, and with that I never had the determination to get much better at any athletic activity. After all, to this day I struggle with keeping my heels on the ground during a squat because I've lived my life walking around on my toes. I even have students who recognize me across campus because of the way that I walk. Needless to say, I was never an athlete.

Recently, I've joined a CrossFit gym. It's the first gym I've ever joined and I decided to pay the outrageously high monthly fee just so that I'd force myself to go. Now, I live on a college campus with a more than adequate gym--that I technically pay for--and I can count on one hand the amount of times I've actually gone to it to workout. I pay for CrossFit. Today it was snowing and it was a 10 minute drive to CrossFit. I went to CrossFit.

Gyms scare the hell out of me. There, I said it. When one goes to a gym, they encounter a different kind of person. They encounter a person who is big, strong, and intense. They encounter a place of judgment. (If you can't dead lift 300 lbs, you obviously don't belong here.) Or, maybe we should say that that's the place that one encounters in one's mind. For me, at least, that intimidation factor and my own self consciousness of my awkwardness is what created a 6'2" 230 lb individual. It created a person with a resting heart rate way higher than it should be. It created a person who is generally depressed and ashamed of their body. It created a person who stopped taking care of themselves. I gave up. The intimidation of the world of fitness was far too overwhelming for a weak soul like me living inside a weak body. In my mind, it was just too much to take.

I even bought P90X online because I figured I could work out in private where the intimidation simply wasn't there. I never made it through even half of the P90X program.

Last month, I joined CrossFit. CrossFit is one of the hardest workout programs out there; it doesn't matter how strong you are, it will kick your butt. You know what I discovered? That gym that intimidated me for so long? It's not reality. This morning I worked out with women that must have been well over 60 years old. They couldn't lift much and they sure couldn't do lateral jumps over a bar, but they were there and they worked hard. And yeah, the guy in front of me looked like he could bench press an elephant, but who cares? The intimidation factor went right out the door when I first went to CrossFit because I realized that there are people of all shapes and sizes there, all on different levels of fitness, all working toward the same goal: to do better than they did last time.

Yeah, awkward me can barely bench press the bar. And yeah, I get some weird looks when I get to the bottom of the back squat and literally can't stand up. Yeah, my push presses barely get my elbows straight. But the only time the coach has yelled at me? When I apologized for not being able to do something. I met a group of people who want me to succeed no matter how bad I am at it. I met a group of people who are so diverse, not only in their age and background, but in their fitness level. Once I realized this, the intimidation factor of working out began to fade.

I can't help but think that that's how the church is to outsiders. In their minds, it's got to be as intimidating as a gym is to me. People, so far along in their progress (toward holiness), speaking a language that only they think, who are intense about everything they do in that realm. I can only hope that there are some new Christians who walked into the Body of Christ because their friends said they should and hoped for the best. And, when they came, they met a group of real people, all at different points on their journey, all working together in their path toward Christian perfection and hoping to do better than they did last time.

In the midst of a time when the church seems to be dying, gym membership isn't. People are learning the gym language. Less people are learning the Christian language.

As Christians, we have to opportunity to learn from such a trend. Gyms work to make themselves less intimidating so that more people will get excited about taking care of their physical bodies. Churches might do well to ponder this model.

How can we, the Church, work at conveying who we are (a disciplined set of believers who, while admittedly speaking a different language, are wholly excited to welcome others in so that they too might get started on their path) in a positive light? How might the world see our community? How might the world see our accountability? How might the world see Christ's love through us?

CrossFit doesn't apologize for who it is. It's hard. It's a lot of work. It takes discipline and practice. And yes, there is a new language to learn.

If the Church is going to get serious about evangelism, I think it is time we work toward that end by beginning to understand how the world sees us and figure out a way that the world might understand the gospel message through our presence rather than being completely overwhelmed by the intimidation of such a presence. That, to me, is how the Church's evangelistic mission might better be lived out in the world.

The Church can welcome others in without apologizing for who it is. But, in today's society, it's going to take a bit more work. Don't worry though, my guess is that it will be worth the investment.

-B

Yes, Use Words When You Preach the Gospel

You can say a lot of things about Mark Driscoll, and I often do, but he is one of the preachers in today's world who is actually using theological concepts in his sermons.  He doesn't sugar coat anything and he doesn't preach simply for the sake of his own voice (though he is often accused of such things).  His sermons are passionate, clear, long, and theological. There's not any fluff in Mark's sermons.     In case there is any confusion, this is the way things once were.  Pastors have served as theological guides since the beginning.  They've described hard concepts for parishioners to get and they've outlined things like salvation so that their understanding of the Scriptures is clear.   Mark may be wrong in many ways, but he is doing what others, recently, haven't been.   Yesterday he said this, in regards to the St. Francis attribution, "Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.":   [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tm6j_Bxy6wI&w=640&h=385]Mark's view is clear: The Gospel must be preached, with words.  Demonstration is not enough.  This is not a new idea by any means.  At first though, I was struck by his tone.  I mean, it's St. Francis for God's sake.   St. Francis was all about demonstration of the Gospel.  We remember St. Francis and his lifestyle more than many many who have preached the Gospel.   Mark's understanding hinges around his conception of salvation, and I've made it clear in the past that I don't agree with his concept of elected salvation much at all.   However, I tend to agree with him here.  I suppose that Jesus's command to preach the Gospel is significant, but Jesus's command takes different forms at different points. In Mark, Jesus commands his disciples to enter ministry by casting out demons.  In Matthew, Jesus gives direct command to the disciples after his resurrection to go make more disciples by baptizing them and telling others to follow his teachings. What, then, is ministry truly supposed to look like?    Probably, both and.   I agree with Driscoll.     Not because it might lead to damnation if you don't, but because it is practical for the spreading of the message.  Mercy, hospitality, help, etc are all important for the livelihood of the Gospel. They are things that Jesus and Christian history has spoken of time and time again. But, in practicality, are they enough to spread the Gospel?   The truth is, we communicate with each other through words.  Sometimes these are developed languages, sometime they are little more than grunts.  But we communicate with each other through vocal inflections that we mutually agree mean something.  These inflections help us to understand things.  These inflections help us to understand each other.  These inflections help us to understand our actions.   Evangelism is, I think, a word that was hijacked by those trying to save souls. They used it for all kinds of things: monetary gain, bigger churches, among others.  They used the crap out of it, over and over, even distinguishing themselves from the mainline denominations with it.   I think St. Francis's quote has been used a lot as of late because society has begun to regard evangelists as crazed, religious people who fight with whatever powers they can until their bullhorns run out.  Society hasn't appreciated the Christian television programs because they seem inauthentic.  So, Christians not associated with these people have turned to other ways of spreading the Gospel.  And the quote has found a new home, within people who want to spread Christ's love, and care little about telling people why.   But evangelism is a call upon Christians.  A call for the future of the Church.   And it's a call that some Christians are afraid to approach now because of the connotations of it in our society. And that's a problem.  Less and less churches in America have a steady string of members and attendees. Which means less and less Christians are being formed.  And less and less Christians are being inspired to go and spread the Gospel.  Which means that less and less Christians are hearing the Gospel story.  Which means there are less and less Christians.   Which means that Jesus's command isn't being followed.   We should exhibit works of mercy.  We should also preach, with words.   Both, and.   -B

Practicality of Methodism and Scott Kisker

Ok, so we read another Methodism book in Wesleyan class. I sure hope this counts as credit toward being a Methodist. And that I don't get in trouble for that last sentence. Scott Kisker's Mainline or Methodist? can be summed up, not entirely, but mostly by saying that the United Methodist church has fallen away from it's Methodist roots and may be past the point of hope for change inside of what we know of as today's Mainline denominations. Methodism got comfortable, reacted to certain events in American history and forgot the commitment that Wesley required to be a Methodist to begin with.

In example, the United Methodist church has reacted so much to other denominations not being open that they have become too open. Open hearts, open minds, open doors, open table. Anyone can eat the bread and drink the juice. Anyone is welcome, but not all are encouraged to seek ordination, etc.

All the Wesleyan books have pointed out many of the same concepts. In the development of the Methodist movement, Wesley set up societies to serve as accountability groups for faith followers. The groups served as a means of fellowship, accountability to living a holy life. If you desired to progress from society to society(it was a bit hierarchical), there were requirements.

Here is where it gets interesting to me.

Wesley had his experience at Aldersgate where his heart was strangely warmed and he finally realized that he could not do anything to earn his own salvation. Only the grace of God that is offered through Jesus can provide true salvation. This is often(whether incorrectly or correctly) thought about in terms of legalism.

And this is where we all get confused about Wesley's theology.

We can't earn our own salvation. That's understood in today's Christian culture. But Wesley called on those who desired to live holy lives(as holiness is heart and life was key to salvific living) to demonstrate this by following certain rules. These were strict, and those who did not want to follow them did not have to, but it meant giving up your place is the class, band, or society.

Kisker claims that perhaps Methodism needs to make a reappearance inside of United Methodism. In a sense, one could gather that Kisker desires that we reinstate some of these requirements of being a Methodist in order to begin to build the discipleship of the church again. The argument can be made that this discipleship can then be used as resource for evangelism and actually act in the way that Wesley intended.

My confusion comes when we compare these ideas to Wesley's experience at Aldersgate. I thought that this legalistic idea of salvation was the opposite of Wesley's experience. He finally realized that God alone provided salvation.

I know what you're thinking. Bryant, this is the idea of atonement. Our works and actions can't earn us the atonement. God alone provides that. And the classes, bands, and societies help us to continue and be held accountable in our pursuit of righteous living. They dont equate. I get that. I'm not saying that Wesley was wrong.

But the question I present is regarding the practicality for bringing this to today's culture.

We often equate legalistic ideas (whether they are for atonement, salvation, or just to live a holy life) with those who stand on the street corners and preach damnation and eternal fire. They preach things about not practicing homosexuality, worshipping false idols, and being friends with Muslims.

Rightly, the United Methodist Church saw this and ran. We opened things up so that we didn't get seen as legalistic by any means. And this is what Kisker(and others) says needs to change. We need to require something of our parishioners again. There is a cost and responsibility to discipleship. While this may be true, it is easy to see why Methodists became they way they appear today.

So can Methodism, in the way it appeared in Wesleys day, actually survive in today's world? If we were to enact rules, would people just see us as legalists and write us off as they do many other denominations? I would agree that in theory a righteous lifestyle is the best form of evangelism, but are the accountability rules a practical in today's culture? Would it work?

I'm not so sure.

-B

For more thought, think about what Wesley's open-air preaching might look like today. How would it be perceived?