Why I Did This, Part 1: Ministers and Mission

I think I was awakening to something during my ministry in Milwaukee in the early 90s, without fully realizing it. We were engaging the neighborhood school near our church, making advances in racial reconciliation, and also breaking down barriers between Christian fellowships. Looking back, I think I was experiencing missional impulses that were moving me beyond our church walls.

For reasons too complicated to sort out here (and I’m still not sure I could), we felt called to a church in Houston. It was a church with a great, and well-deserved, reputation for supporting many good works in the city. It was also a church with an ecumenical spirit and equality for women. But it was not growing, and I set myself to the task of trying to help the church make the changes necessary to attract the unchurched to hear the good news. It was the only way I knew.

For years I had studied church growth, and nearly all the experts said the same things—and most established churches struggled with their recommendations. We brought in a consultant, read books, and felt the pain of trying to change. But there was a revolution already happening in Christianity, and I was only beginning to become aware of it. America was becoming postmodern and post-Christian, and the theories of what this would mean for the church were becoming hot topics.  If I had understood these issues better, I think I would have understood better why I was struggling so much.

Many factors make it difficult for churches to change—tradition, natural human resistance to change, institutional leadership structures, increasing cultural irrelevance. But I am convinced now that the most significant issue we faced was a personal issue in my ministry.

After several years there, we moved back home to Nashville and I continued the mission of trying to lead an established church toward growth and outreach—with many of the same struggles. Then, with the help of Randy Harris and David Wray, we began a study of the “missional church” (interestingly, the church in Houston began the same study at about the same time). The issues facing churches in postmodern, post-Christian America began to appear in sharper focus, as did some of the more substantive changes we would need to make if we were truly to begin advancing on mission in the world—which is not the same as trying to attract people to the church building and church activities.

We began to see that “mission” is not just one of several things a church is supposed to do. Mission is the reason the church exists. God is on a mission in this world, and he created the church for that mission. As missional writers often say, “The church doesn’t have a mission; the mission has a church.” And being on mission doesn’t just mean trying to have the kind of church that will attract consumers to its services and programs. It means living on mission in the world—serving those in need and being friends to those who don’t know God.

But change was no easier even with a clearer vision. In fact, in some ways it seemed to become harder. We still faced issues of tradition, human nature, institutional leadership structures, and cultural irrelevance. But I began to realize that the issues churches face are deeper than could be addressed with program changes.

It began to become clear to me that a great deal of the problem was that too many of us in leadership in churches—including me—were not living missionally. I was a minister on a mission in the church, but I was not personally on mission in the world. How could I lead a church to become God’s people on mission in the world when I was not on mission myself?

My job was the church; my church was the church; and my friends were the church.

I had long lamented this reality as a barrier to my ability to reach unchurched people. But now those words were moving from an excuse to a conviction. I had to learn a new way of living in this world. Perhaps I could have done that and stayed in my role as a minister, but I don’t think so. 

We don’t really pay our ministers to be missionaries. Everything I was reading and hearing said I had to spend time where people are, in coffee shops and pubs rather than in a church office. But there were three problems with this. First, I hate coffee and beer…seriously! So what was I supposed to do in a coffee house or pub? I figured out I could drink hot chocolate at a Starbucks and fit in ok, but at the neighborhood pub there is no hot chocolate option.

Second, what church pays its preacher to hang out in pubs and have a drink with worldly people? Jesus ate and drank with tax collectors and sinners, but preachers don’t (and look at the reaction Jesus got from church folk!). Good brothers and sisters who want to believe that Jesus had matzos and grape juice at the Passover would not be ready for this!

Third, and maybe most importantly, I liked my church office. I liked being surrounded by my books, with my colleagues and friends just down the hall. I liked using it as a base to prepare to preach to Christians, to teach classes to Christians, to have planning meetings with Christians, to lead small groups of Christians, to visit Christians in the hospital, to comfort Christians at the funeral home, and to attend ministerial association meetings with Christian ministers. I knew how to do this. I liked it. I was pretty good at it. But I needed to leave it.

So we moved into the city and have been learning a new way to live. It has taken us to new experiences, but more importantly to new relationships. We built a house in a transitional neighborhood, one where the privileged and underprivileged live on the same streets. (We hadn’t planned on building, but we met the builders at a neighborhood meeting—they live here too.) Some of our neighbors are well off and are building new homes near their downtown offices. Others are on government assistance. We love the socio-economic and racial diversity of these neighbors working together to improve their community.

Now we have open houses for our neighborhood instead of for church members. We have our neighbors into our home, go to restaurants and events with them, and plant the community garden with them. I play trivia at the pub with the guys (I’ve learned to drink light beer…and have almost learned to like it). Our neighbors invite us out to eat and to their birthday parties. For the first time in 30 years, we were invited to a Christmas party at the home of an atheist—it’s the first time in 30 years that I have an atheist friend.

And that’s what bothers me most—30 years of missed opportunities to be like Jesus. I look back now and see so many chances I missed to be friends with people Jesus would have been friends with . . . but I was too preoccupied with being a Christian.