And to think it all began with The Church Without Pants

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Parable of the Buried Talent

This story may remind you of a parable recorded in Luke 19:9-26. In that story, the heroes are the nine servants who earn large profits using their master's money. As interpreters have taken the parable and allegorized it (I know "allegorize" may not be a word, but remember, we're allowed to make up words in The Church Without Pants), the nobleman (Jesus) is appointed king by an absentee king-maker of some sort (God) over the objections of his subjects (those who reject Jesus). This Jesus figure rewards those who are faithful and executes those who tried to get in his way. The moral to story (i.e. What we learn about the Kingdom of God) as we've been traditionally taught it usually sounds something like: "God will give more responsibility to those who demonstrate responsibility in small things," or put simply, "God helps those who help themselves." This story is also used as grounds for the idea that in God's Kingdom "The rich get richer and the poor get poorer." This story is commonly known as the Parable of the Ten Talents (or Minas).

But what if we've got it all backwards and inside-out? What if the king/master in the story is really what he appears to be: a complete and total slob; a Jabba the Hutt kind of a guy who is rotten to the core? And instead of many heroes who gain profits, there is but one hero: the only one who dares to speak out and pull the veil away from evil, revealing its stench and ugliness in such a way that no one can ignore it any more. This version of the story might be called The Parable of the Buried Talent and if we read between the lines (as all good readers do) it might sound something like this:

The Parable of the Buried Talent

Jesus, having just dined with Zacchaeus, a tax collector and notorious sinner, was asked by his followers to explain himself and his actions.

They questioned him saying, “How could you lower yourself to do such a thing?”

“Why do you question me on this?” he asked. “Surely you can see that this man was lost but that now salvation has come to his house. He is once again a son of Abraham and has been restored to his people. This is why I came.” And Jesus continued on his way saying, "Let us go to Jerusalem now, and do the same there”

Thinking upon this, his followers wondered: Surely now, Jesus will restore our kingdom to its former glory.

But knowing their thoughts, he took pity on them and told them a story so they would understand their rolls in unraveling the kingdoms of the world.

He said: “You remember Herod’s son? The man who went to Rome to be appointed lord of the realm? Well, let me tell you the story of another man of noble birth, who, like Herod’s son, was ambitious and wanted to be Governor of the land. And like Herods’ son he too was very unpopular with the people and his subjects hated him. Fearing the crowds, he went to the emperor to secure his appointment as governor and gain the backing of the might of the empire. He was confident the emperor would appoint him because he had already proven himself worthy by greatly expanding his holdings and he now controlled not only all commerce in the cities of the realm, but he also commanded many powerful and ambitious barons who served him and did his bidding without question or hesitation.

"But before leaving he called ten of his most trusted barons and giving them each a large sack of gold he put them to the test saying, ‘Put this money to use while I am away.'

"Meanwhile, his subjects sent a delegation to the emperor to protest saying, 'We don’t want this man to rule over us!' But while the emperor heard the protests of the delegation the would-be governor arrived for his audience and the emperor invited the nobleman to sit with him and make his request.

"'Faithful friend,' the emperor began, 'I have heard of your success and your record speaks for itself. You are a man much like myself. You reap where you do not sow and you take for yourself what is not yours. You reward those who service you and you punish those who stand against you. I need resourceful men like you as my deputies and governors.'

"And so in spite of protests by his subjects the emperor appointed the nobleman to be governor of the realm.

"When the new governor returned he called his ten trusted barons to account for the gold he’d left with them.

"The first baron reported that he used his gold to purchase the services of mercenaries who seized a trade vessel. After paying the mercenaries he sold the goods from the vessel at market and also sold the ship’s crew into slavery. He earned 10 sacks of gold with the one the nobleman had left him.

"The second baron reported that he used his sack of gold to purchase 10 young slave women and a large well appointed villa at a seaside resort. The baron set up a fee-for-service menu for the villa's "guests" and in the short time his master was gone his small home business had returned five more sacks of gold.

"The story of each baron was similar and for every sack of gold the barons deposited at the feet of the newly appointed governor, he rewarded them in kind by putting new lands and new cities under their dominion.

"That is, until the last baron came before the governor with just one sack of gold. He told the governor, 'I once admired you but in your absence I’ve realized that you are a cruel man and possessed by an insatiable greed. I know now that you are a hard man and that you reap what you do not sow and you take what is not yours so I buried your gold and let it sit while you were gone. Now I’m giving you only what you deserve.'

"'How dare you!' roared the governor. 'A ‘hard man,’ indeed! And knowing this you still held back from me? I will judge you by your own words.' And calling his soldiers he ordered them to take the sack of the gold from the rebellious baron and give it the baron who earned 10 sacks.

"The barons and even the soldiers were surprised at this and whispered among themselves, 'But he already has 10 sacks of gold.'

"Overhearing the whispering in his own halls the governor raged, 'Listen carefully, everyone. This is how things work in my kingdom. To everyone who has, more will be given, but as for those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. Now, bring to me the delegation and all those who did not want me to be governor. Bring them here and kill them in front of me.'"

And Jesus said to followers, “This is where we are headed. This is what our Jerusalem is like. The kingdom here is nothing like God’s realm. This is why I weep for Jerusalem. But I have spent my whole life in preparation for this. We will be a bright and searing light entering a dark and corrupt world. Now, be steady and follow me. It will not be easy." Then, with a gleam in his eye and a flicker of a smile he said, "Let's go stir up the hornets’ nest ...”

And having said this he went on ahead of his disciples, going up to Jerusalem.

In this parable our hero discerns that the governor is nothing but a criminal who champions corruption, cunning, greed and cronyism over generosity, hospitality, justice and compassion. He stands alone with the buried talent as evidence before the lords of the realm and names and exposes the evil in front of him. In so doing the mask that hides the governor's true nature begins to unravel.

Simply stated, Truth undoes evil. This, I believe is a powerful lesson about the nature of God's Kingdom that is too easy to ignore when Jesus is left in the role of the appointed king.

However, in the Buried Talent story, we see this clearly as the governor's temperament devolves from that of a "hard man" who merely steals from his subjects and exploits his land to a vengeful beast and malicious executioner. We see that once the curtains that shield evil from our eyes are peeled back, evil can no longer disguise itself. The "hard man" is a murderer. There is no place evil can hide.

I was lucky enough to spend a few days with a man named Os Guinness (not sure he's related to Obi Wan, but yes, he is the great, great, great, grand something or other of another famous Guinness) many years ago. We took a drive together in Santa Barbara and I remember a few of the many things we talked about. One idea he shared is that truth, by its nature, is self revealing (like a city on a hill that can't be hidden?). A corollary to this might be that just as truth can't be hidden, once a lie is exposed or begins to unravel there is no way for it to remain hidden either. Ultimately, as the Blue Fairy says to Pinocchio, the lie becomes "as plain as the nose on your face." It becomes impossible to ever put a kind face on the monster again. There is no place for untruth to hide and the full depths of evil are ultimately exposed for all to see.

So, when we look to the parables for some enlightenment about the way things are in God's Kingdom, will we read Luke 19 and continue to rationalize why the king/Jesus character is portrayed as a petty thug who rewards his cronies and executes those who stand against him? Is the Kingdom really about the rich getting richer? Or is Jesus the one who tasks us to stand with him against evil and call it out, exposing it, making it harder and harder for evil to disguise itself until finally there is no place anywhere in God's realm where evil can abide or hide?

Monday, August 29, 2011

Love, Jesus (Un-invited, Part 2)

We (She, Another, Another Other, One More and I) were parking the old Honda in the big Big City Church parking lot (as far away as possible, near their Youth Complex, so as not to embarrass ourselves) when She blurts out that she visited a church in Georgia that didn't allow children in their worship services.

"Really? says I.

"Too distracting," says She.

"Unbelievable!" says Another.

"Did you take a picture of the sign?" asked Another Other.

 We're out of the car and walking by now.

"Yup. Big signs right there at the doors," and she holds her hands out in front of her as if to demonstrate "plain as day."

"Signs signed: 'Love, Jesus?'" I ask.

(glaring from everyone directed at me)

The talking stopped there as we were overcome with a sense of ... maybe we should stop talking ... as we approached the Doors of Big City Church.

"If there is a final judgment, Americans will need to go through twice," says She. (We didn't even know about the Nordstrom's, yet!)

We took a breath and entered into the cavernous entry space where She noticed the Bistro and ordered a "Death by Caffeine" Latte. (Formerly known as the "Final Judgment Latte." Says She, "A little caffeine is always a helpful precursor to a sermon.") She sipped and we noticed the brushed stainless steel lettering above us:

"Serving the Poor, the Homeless and the Unloved"

We looked around ...

"Hmm... maybe. Just not right at this minute," says One More.

"And probably not right here," says Another.

"Maybe they're talking about us," says She.

"I'm taking a picture of this sign!" says Another Other.

We survived the drinking of the deadly latte and subsequent judgment and walked past the worship area.

And there was Big City's version of the sign (using the same blog friendly font):

Children Accompanied by Adults are
Welcome in the Sanctuary.

It wasn't signed by Jesus, but it still made it quite clear that there were to be no distractions during worship and that any potential distractions were to be accompanied by an adult. That, or maybe worship here is R rated.

"Really?" says I.

"Too distracting," says She.

"Unbelievable," says Another (but using her sotto voce so as not create a distraction.)

"I'm taking a picture of this sign!" says Another Other.

"Don't forget to turn off your flash," says I.

Two nights later Still Another friend joined us and would share the musings of Rachel Held Evans about a child with Cerebral Palsy who was escorted out of a worship service (reportedly on Easter Sunday) for being a distraction (You can read Blessed-are-the-uncool here.)

"You know, of course," says Still Another, "worship wasn't always cool ..."
The first occurrence of the Hebrew word that is translated into English as "worship" is found in Genesis as Abraham is taking Isaac up into the mountains for a little father-son time. The Hebrew word is a verb and it means "to fall down" as in fall on your face before your god. A few translations toss in a "worship" as early as Genesis 4 when people "called on" the Lord. But most translators hold off on revealing the "W" until the well known story in chapter 22.

You can read it now if you like, but here's how the story goes:

Abraham and his true love, Sarah, finally have the child that God promised them so many years ago. The boy is named Isaac and while he is still a child Abraham is told by God to offer Isaac as a sacrifice. At that time, some 4,000 years ago, that meant there would be a lot of blood and a lot of fire (very uncool worship). But, Abraham silently obeys. So he takes Isaac, along with some of the men from his household to a place God had appointed and there he would offer Isaac as a burnt offering to God. (As you can already tell this is another one of those I just want to feel good about my worship experience stories.)
 When Abraham comes near to the place he takes the fire wood from the donkey and tells the young men from his house to wait while " ... the boy [Isaac] and I go over there. We will worship (there it is, the first appearance of the "W" in Scripture) and then we will come back to you."

I know this is hard to do, but from here on we need to look at what we know of the story from Isaac's point of view, remembering that Isaac doesn't know what Father Abraham has in store for him ... we need to forget for a moment the plan to roast the only son. Today this story is about a boy and what he understands about worship.

Isaac thinks he is going with his father to worship and so he has certain expectations. He also has certain responsibilities. Let's begin with the fact that Isaac is only a boy, a "lad" according to some translators. He is going to "worship" with his father. He is carrying the wood. And Abraham is carrying the fire.

As they walk together toward the place appointed by God Isaac interrupts and asks, "Father?"

"Yes, son?"

"I was just wondering ... you've got the fire and I've got the wood, but where is the offering?"

Abraham simply says, "God himself will provide the lamb for the sacrifice." He probably said and did more than that, but the two of them went on ...

So this very first depiction of worship in the Scriptures involves a father worshiping with his young son. It is obvious that either Abraham has thoroughly prepared Isaac for what they're about to do (minus one little detail), or they've done this before because the boy is able to detect that something's wrong. Something's missing. It is Isaac, the child, who recognizes that their worship will be incomplete because there is no offering.

Isaac knew what was supposed to happen. Worship involved a journey, a destination, an offering and some sort of action. Worship was messy and hard. It involved blood and guts and fire and smoke and smells that would tighten our throat holes and turn our stomachs inside out. By our standards it sounds gruesome and barbaric and not very pretty and probably not very "age appropriate." Hell, I'd probably be arrested for making my kids witness such a ritual. (And we think worship today isn't kid friendly...)

Yet none of this was strange to Isaac because he understood what worship was.

There was no sitting, no entertainment, no performances. It was hard work and all about what you put into it. The only thing anyone would "get out of it" was the satisfaction that they'd been obedient to God. And most important is that the boy, even if he didn't understand all the nuances and significance of worship, knew enough about what was happening to recognize something was missing.

hip was never, ever an "adults only" endeavor.

When it came to worship there was no such thing as "no children allowed" even if the activity might seem a bit grisly.

So what happens in our worship today that seems to make it so universally kid unfriendly? The copious amounts of spattered blood in our Sanctuaries and the sacrificial killing of virgins? (This might also explain why 80% of unmarried Christian adults in America are sexually active*.) Or is it candles? Maybe the announcements? Or possibly the fog machines and worship bands? Or maybe the prayers and sermons? Hymnals? PowerPoint presentations? Passing the plate? Just what goes on in today's worship services so that children (and their families) are considered distractions?

I wonder if today's brand of worship service might focus too much on us being served by talented professionals. I wonder too, if we're so consumed with consuming a brand of worship that makes us feel good about God and what God does for us that we've forgotten that the foundation of worship is us bringing something, offering something, to God.

I wonder, if our children can't get what's happening, or if their presence is going to be a distraction to us and the professionals serving us, are we missing the point of worship?

What would happen if we re-constructed the whole worship thing so that children and their families could be participants rather than distractions? No need, though, to turn everything upside down all at once. Let's take small steps. Maybe we could start by welcoming children without disabilities. 

 Or maybe it would just be easier to invite all of them to use their own space, perhaps a Youth Complex, to do their own thing.

* "(Almost) Everyone's Doing It," Relevant Magazine, October 2011

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Un-invited (Part 1)

Some friends and I recently visited Big City Church (not its real name). It's new and edgy. And it's big. Huge, even. More like a campus than a church. The architects melded the main structure into the swell of a rolling hill so that it managed to blend in and, at the same time, call an almost obscene amount of attention to itself. It's pure genius... The blue lights at night are a real cool touch producing an almost iridescent glow. On the inside they had their own bookstore, a bistro with fair-trade coffee, a Nordtroms Rack, an Audi dealership, and plenty of hip young adults. My old Honda with the rocket launcher roof rack was totally embarrassed when we drove up.

A few generations ago the mainline churches in the United States decided they were going to un-invite a whole segment of the population from their gatherings. It certainly wasn't the first time the Church un-invited a group of people from their house and it probably won't be the last.

Big Old Church (not its real name), where I now serve is pretty old and pretty mainline. It's closer to 200 years old than it is to 150 and throughout its history the people of this church have played central roles as public servants working in government, health, business and trade professions. They even helped establish a major university in the community. Within a few years after the civil war, Big Old Church helped set a tone in the community by becoming one of the first churches in town to accept people of all colors as members. The church even employed African Americans. This went on until near the turn of the century, when by seemingly mutual agreement a new and separate "colored" church was established. Whether or not anyone protested or decried this action, no one now remembers the conversations and there is no record of anyone calling very loudly for the groups to stay together.

Today, although Big Old Church would welcome any person from anywhere, any African American who visits can hardly avoid noticing that this is a congregation of "white" people. Old white people.

We can only imagine what Big Old Church might be like today had someone one hundred years ago insisted that they work out their differences. What if they had chosen the more difficult path of looking their problems straight in the eye and declaring without blinking, "Not here, Satan. We are the Body of Christ and we're better than you think." What a model of authenticity and determination they might have been. Instead, they all took the easier road and one hundred years ago the "coloreds" were invited to leave.

And they still have not come back.

A half century later churches all over the country invited their youth to go somewhere else. Well, they could stay in our buildings, but usually in some funky, out-of-the-way corner of the facility. It probably seemed like a very cool idea. (At Big Old Church they met upstairs in the unused room below the bell tower. It was very cool and very out-of-the-way, not even in the same building where the younger children and adults met. It was accessed by ascending a spiral staircase then walking across the balcony of the sanctuary. The room was poorly heated, un-airconditioned and it leaked when it rained. It was the epitome of funky.) We'd even supply them with leadership and funds for programming and events. They could do all the stuff they like to do, sing the way they like to sing, talk the way they like to talk and dress the way they liked to dress. And we could do the same. They'd be happy doing their thing and we'd be happy doing ours. Every once in a while we'd invite them back to put on a show for us. It would be called "Youth Sunday." The Youth Pastor or one of the youth would preach (not very well because they don't do that very often), sing (songs we didn't like with words we didn't understand and usually not sung to our high standards) and pray (in the stammering manner of youth who think "Uhhh" is a complete sentence) ... And we'd smile and applaud and silently give thanks that next week everything would be back to normal. (And maybe they'd be just as thankful that they wouldn't be trotted out on stage to be put on display next week, too.) Instead of doing the hard things like cooperating and learning and adapting, we chose the easier road. It was about three generations ago that we invited our teens to leave our churches.

And they haven't come back.

In fact, we gave them enough confidence in doing their own thing that that's exactly what they're doing. They're starting their own churches and they still meet in funky places. They still preach differently, sing differently and pray differently than their parents and grandparents. And for the most part they resist the denominational labels of their churchly elders and predecessors. (Curiously, they're beginning to recognize that they can't function independently and so they form "associations" of like minded churches. I like to think of these associations as "proto-denominations.")

So, was it a mistake to invite people of different ages (or colors) to leave and do their own thing? Did we do the right thing? Or, what if under the guise of, "We were just doing what we thought was best," we seriously missed the target?

If we did the right thing, then let's stop complaining that our children and grandchildren are joining with congregations that think and do things differently than we do. Let's recognize the fruits of our labors and celebrate when these newer churches sprout up on the swells of rolling hills or in living rooms and basements, or in our downtown storefronts, coffee houses, bars and nightclubs ... (They do meet in the funkiest places, don't they?) And no, they're not coming back. We invited them to leave. We gave them our blessing to go and do their own thing. And Big City Church, you might want to be a little more gracious and a little less audacious. And maybe even say, "Thank you." Because your "parents" did the right thing.

But if not, if the "parents" did make a mistake by inviting these people to leave, and some of these newer churches are the offspring of our mistake ... Should churches like Big Old attempt to reconcile with Big City? Would that be the Godly thing to do, or are we beyond redemption?

I also wonder, Are places like Big City a correction, a perpetuation or possibly a magnification of that mistake?

And mistake, or not, Would you vow to do things differently than your "parents"? Even under the best conditions I think anyone who has ever been a child has, at some time, promised that when they grow up they'll never treat their children the way their parents treat them. And every parent, even on their best days, can find themselves regretting that they just said and did the very same things their parents said and did.

So, what will our children's and grandchildren's churches do with their younger generations?

Will they do the hard thing and figure out how to live in the same room together?

Or will they also invite their children to do their own thing in their own space?

That's my brand ...

The "Hollister" brand is incredibly popular and people pay big money to be seen with "Hollister, CA." waving gently over their boobs and asses. They don't make anything big enough for my ass (probably intentional), but my daughter, who used to work at a Hollister store, is just the right size.

They have a dress code for their employees: Hollister, or something that the common shopper would mistake for Hollister. They also have an ingenious scheduling formula. My daughter was one of 150 young people on payroll and she worked 5-6 hours per week at minimum wage. Even with her employee discount she (and 149 others) earned just enough to purchase a pair of pants and a couple of blouses or shirts each month. She tried shopping elsewhere, but good luck finding Hollister ware at Target.

She worked there for 8 months and I don't think they ever had to pay her a dime.

But this isn't a story about Hollister. Hollister, CA is just good fodder for a story about marketing and branding, the lengths we will go to be associated (or not) with a "brand" and the price we pay for falling for this crap.

The Hollister* brand evokes thoughts of sunny California beaches and California girls. The kind whose asses you want associated with your brand. It is so "beachy" that their stores are set up in the style of oceanfront cabanas.

I had a friend in college from Hollister. His name was Tim and he didn't surf. That's because Hollister isn't near the beach. Hollister is right next to Gilroy, CA., "The Garlic Capital of the World." You can smell Gilroy long before you even know you're in Hollister. Just a little further away is Salinas, "The Lettuce Capital of the World." Salinas is more of a beach town than Hollister. In fact, before the clothing line came out, Hollister's only claim to fame was it's proximity to Gilroy. Just ask Tim.

Here is a picture I took of Hollister, CA. in 2008.

It looks just like Hollister did in 1978. And it looks a lot more like Iowa than it does "beach." It feels more like Iowa, too.

And it still smells like Gilroy.

But for some reason no one uses Hollister and cows (or garlic) in the same sentence.

I just think the whole marketing/branding thing is amusing because it seems to be a game of asking, "How far from reality can we go before we're discovered?"

It's almost as if the strategy is to clearly identify what we are, evaluate whether what we are will sell, and if necessary, change the equations to something that will sell. In the case of Hollister the equation would look something like this:

Farm = Beach

and everyone will buy it because

People = Cattle

In my town, Mega Suburban Church (not their real name) decided recently that their "brand" was stiffling their growth and so they've changed their name. They dropped the denominational tag because they no longer want to be associated with a denomination that is known for building "walls and fortresses" and behaving like "hyper-separationists" (sic). (This was such big news it made the front page of our local paper not once, but twice!)

Not that they no longer want to be associated with their denomination. In fact, the pastor affirms that all denominational ties are intact and healthy and that the church will continue to affiliate with the denomination and support denomination endorsed causes.

They just don't like people thinking that they "build walls and fortresses" and act like "hyper- separationists" (sic) like others with the same name.

"We feel we can tell [a better outreach story] if we don't make people outside our church think we're something we're really not."

Really. And Farm = Beach.

Mega Suburban Church, the one that just changed their name, has their own school (up through 12th grade). They do their own form of "biblical" counseling for personal psychological, emotional and social issues. (I know of a woman who was in a physically abusive marriage and the "biblical" counsel she received was to stay in the relationship and "submit" to husband.) And someone there is teaching their congregants that other denominations (for example, Orthodox Christians) are heretics and that people specifically in Big Old Church (where I work) are not "saved."

How far from reality can you go before you're discovered? Pretty far, it seems. A few years ago the senior pastor at Big Old Church**, a woman, called the senior pastor at Mega Suburban Church to ask what the deal is and why they find it necessary to slander other Christians. I was with her in her office and she began the conversation by stating, "I'm sure we have more in common than not, so could we talk about this?" He said he didn't have time to talk to her. Ever.

Just imagine what Mega Suburban would be like if they were the type who built walls and fortresses or acted like hyper-separationists.

I think it would've been more appropriate for Mega Suburban Church to totally drop Church from their name and replace it with Institute. (Then they could be known as Megatute.)

But that would change the equation to Farm = Farm.

And that will probably never happen because Hollister is right, People = Cattle.

* A note about Hollister ware. I've heard that the brand is named for a person. While that may be true, the clothing often reads something like, "Hollister, CA."

** A word, or two, about Big Old Church and the Megatute (Mega Suburban Institute). For example, we carry the same denominational "brand" that Megatute used to carry, we both have schools that meet on our grounds and we both have had counselors and therapists in our congregation. A few differences between us would be that we haven't dropped the brand (yet), the school at Big Old is a public school, and the therapists at Big Old support laws that protect family members from each other because of their faith. We both teach "submission" - but at Big Old we find that mutual submission captures the essence of the Scriptures more fully than just having our women submit to men. We both have a story: Megatute’s story is crafted and told by a pastoral staff of about 10 (men) and a deacon board of about 31 (men); Big Old's story includes men and women who serve in every capacity and in any position of leadership within our church, even as senior pastor. We both seem to affirm and celebrate our Christian and denominational roots - but the people of Big Old can join in on projects with other denominations and serve the community along side people who don't share our religious or spiritual values without hiding behind judgmental and slanderous comments. I could go on but then I'd eventually have to talk about all the stuff Big Old sucks at, so ... let me just say I'm not sure we're the ones who are currently building walls and acting like the "separationists" that Megatute says prompted them to change their name. A bit of irony here, though, is that whenever Big Old is in the news (usually for something like feeding people downtown or hosting an event that may not include "Praise the Lord" in the dialogue) our local media almost invariably gets confused about our names and they end up putting Mega Suburban’s name on what we’ve been doing. I think repeatedly seeing and hearing their name put on something the people known as Big Old (Super Fortress) Church does really pisses them off. So much so that they finally had to change their name. But whatever the reasons they give, I’m glad they did ...

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Church Without Pants

New churches are so dime a dozen. I live in a relatively small city and six new churches have opened in the last three years just in our little downtown. Seriously. They try to come off as unique and distinct but they're all doing the same things: Marketing consultants and demographic surveys, "branding," distinctive logos and signage, mass mailings, glitzy websites, young (white) male pastors with either shaved heads or pointy hair, passionate (but totally hierarchical) leadership with no venue for accountability, "Biblical" teaching and "dynamic worship experiences", names like Connected, River of God, Path, and City Church, gritty bands, color coordinated storefront locations, no denominational trappings, big goals, and a target audience. I wonder what that sixth and latest church thinks they're going to do in our downtown that the five previous iterations aren't doing. Maybe they think they'll be our own local version of Elevation (Please stop here to check out "The Code". It's a glitzy presentation of Elevation's story and viewing it helps the rest of this story of The Church Without Pants make a lot more sense). Maybe they imagine that they'll do for the church what The Beatles did for music.

But except for maybe the glitzy websites, we've been there and done that. The fact is there are so many of these cool churches out there using words like dynamic, single minded, purpose driven, dominating, and unapologetic to describe themselves, that I wonder if they might not be losing their edge. ("The Edge" - Now that might be a cool name for a church.)
But when I get a vision for something new I can count on three things: 1) it's not going to be The Beatles of church, 2) it certainly won't be considered "cool," and 3) it probably won't really be new. Maybe that's because it was more of an hallucination than a vision. But just imagine, if it was The Beatles of church, what might it be like ...

... In my vision/hallucination, it would be The Church Without Pants.

I think the whole "pants" thing comes from the fact that I keep outgrowing mine. Which makes me think of expansion. Maybe I should I call this new thing Expansion Church. The name borders on cool. It conjures images of growth and substance rather than bare tushies. But it could also just be a reminder of some kind of unwanted swelling or the fact that my ass is already bigger than my brain and it is still expanding.

And instead of using words like "compelling," "dominate" and "audacious" this Expansion Church will use words like "we," "ordinary," "dorky," and "zing." And we'll use lame phrases like "We am ..." Expansion is dorky followers of Jesus whose vision (and whose asses) are too big for their pants.

So here's part of our secret code, 11 of the expansive secrets of Expansion:

I We live an outrageous faith - This makes it possible for us to make up words (see secret VIII below) and sing Beatles tunes whenever we want. Most church folk think we're downright crazy. And they're right.

II You don't want to be here - Well, maybe you do, but most people don't. Not really, anyway. If you come to church in order to receive something or "get something out of it" there is probably a big box church nearby that is targeting consumers of religious and spiritual goods, like you. Go there. We can get more done if you're consuming worship somewhere else.

III More about the box - Cool people think they think outside the box. The even cooler people think they think inside the box. We recycle boxes.

IV We have a vision that's too big for our pants - God never changes but our vision of God does. Our vision isn't for a 3D or XL God or even the 2X version of God. We want all of God. Give us the God of 5X. And when we've met God 5X we'll want the 7X God. Give us the Big God, The One we can't totally figure out.

V You don't get it - Actually, no one gets it here. You only get it by giving it away. Faith and worship are not about us receiving. God gives us everything we need whether we worship, or not. Faith comes alive and worship happens when we start letting it go.

VI We am what we am - An expansion of a truth made famous by Popeye the Sailor. Some communities are like hives with thousands of drones. They are efficient and usually guided by a dominant personality with a simple and singular vision. At Expansion, "We" is everyone. Expressing our passions, personal preferences, choices and opinions is what makes us a community. It makes us what we am. It also makes us different from a hive.

VII We are guaranteed unprofessional - Turn down the house lights and turn on the fog machines then scream, applaud, capture video, tweet or text your friends, and wave your cell phones as much as you want. Just don't pretend that's what worship is. Stop being a schnorrer and cough up the bucks for a ticket if you really want to see a show or a concert. Worship isn't a show. Worship is literally "falling down" before God and we have no professionals leading us in face-plant rituals from the stage. (But perhaps we should ...) Expansion is just "we" offering ourselves to God. If a dazzling presentation accompanied by shouting, jumping and Christian mosh pits (Sanctified feel-up sessions) is your idea of worship see secrets II and V above.

VIII Our community has some added "zing" - Besides making up words (see Secret I), we are constantly de-monumentizing, un-inertiatizing, re-initializing, momentumizing, missionizing and transformizing because we are constantly making huge mistakes (zing), discovering new things about ourselves and God (see secrets IV and VI above) and becoming a new-improved version of what God is doing with us. (Zing. Zing. Zing.)

IX We are united by the dream of God's dream - "... Your will be done on earth as in heaven." Really? Jesus wants us to pray that the earth will be like heaven? If that's true, we had better get a better glimpse of what heaven is like. Hint: Heaven is not full of churches where cool people are entertained while children, homeless, hungry ... (feel free to add to the list) are either paraded in to put on a show to make us feel better about ourselves, or are made to feel unwelcome, stupid, out of place, unworthy or untouchable.

X We should expect this - God may make the rules and God has graciously let us in on some of them, but by no means can we presume to know all there is to know about God and how God wants things done. And so we are not surprised when God does something surprising. We expect the unexpected.

XI Leave your fancy pants at home - Just bring yourself: your plain, ordinary, sinful, dorky self. The self that God sees and yet still invites to the party. The self that God is saving and bringing to life. We believe in that self, too.

Expansion Church - For those whose asses are too big for their pants but who still want to grow in every known and yet-to-be known dimension. It's the Church Without Pants.