A Hopeful Heretic

What Did Jesus Tell Us to Do?

After a whirlwind tour of churches large and small, new and old across the country, Jim Henderson and Matt Casper wrote a book: Jim and Casper Go To Church and Casper, the atheist, asked the question that really makes me squirm.  "Is this what Jesus told you guys to do?"  I want to rise in defense of the church, I want to throw it back in his face but the trouble is, I have to answer in a meek, embarrassed voice, no.

I wish that my defense could begin by noting that Henderson and Casper spent their time in weekend services.  They saw two hours a week in the life of each church.  They didn't see small groups at work.  They didn't see people in prayer, people serving or counseling or comforting others.  But again, the trouble is that I have to admit, they saw the part of "church" that occupies the greatest amount of time and takes the lion's share of energy and resources in most local bodies.  They saw the part of church that comes to mind when most people think of church.

And what they saw was, for the most part, embarrassing.

I've recently been challenged by someone I respect to spend less time on deconstruction of what we call church in the United States.  Consequently, I don't want this to be just another rant about stuff that I don't like because, after all, I'm no expert.  I'm just another Christian guy with a blog.

So I'd like to turn Casper's question around and humbly ask, "What did Jesus tell us to do?"  At the end of Matthew's gospel we find our marching orders in a manner of speaking:

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."
Matthew 28:19-20 (NIV)

We've come to call this passage "The Great Commission" because it is the succinct call to action given by the risen Lord to his followers.  Better scholars with greater minds than mine have done exposition of these lines for centuries so I won't waste any (potential) reader's time with that approach.  But I think that it's worth spending some time reflecting on the very idea of "making disciples."

• What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus in this age and this culture?
• Does it "disciple" mean the same thing as "Christian?"
• How did Jesus "make disciples?"  Should we be doing it the same way?
• Should "church" be only about making disciples, primarily about making disciples or generally about making disciples?

It seems to me that the current blogosphere discussions over Pagan Christianity are reflective of a sincere desire to recapture the essence of Jesus' directions to his followers.  Since the book hasn't made it to the top of my pile yet, perhaps this is a good place for me to start.

Evelyn Wood I Need You!

There is a stack of books on my desk.  There's Can We Trust the Gospels by Mark D. Roberts, Concise Theology by J. I. Packer, The Myth of Certainty by Daniel Taylor and a book that my brother thinks I should read called Black Rednecks and White Liberals by Thomas Sowell.  I'm also re-reading Eldredge's Wild at Heart since I'm leading a group study on it next month.  In my bedroom I have McLaren's latest book, Everything Must Change.  As an aside, I really appreciate Brian's style because I can read a couple chapters before I go to sleep and still retain most of the information.

I'd like to get to a copy of Reveal study so I can come to my own conclusions about its implications.  Likewise with Pagan Christianity.  Then there's a whole list of classic and neo-classic theology books that I'd really like to crank through.  Anyone see where this is going?

I don't think I feel any compulsion to read these things.  This isn't some deep insecurity seeping out of me, at least I hope.  Honestly, I really thirst for the insight that these authors bring to me.  Reading isn't a chore, it's a pleasure.  It's just that I'm drinking out of a firehose here.

It has only gotten worse since I've taken to following blogs.  It's not that the practice takes time away from reading - that's one of the great things about blogs: they're brain candy.  They're lots of ideas in comparatively little space.  No, the problem with blogs is that the really good bloggers must be world-class speed readers.  Michael Spencer must read three books a week and don't even get me started on Scot McKnight.

When I read something on someone else's blog that refers to a book I haven't read yet I get a little hungrier, particularly if I am motivated to join in the discussion.  But there's also a sense of intellectual integrity at work.  I generally don't feel qualified to comment on something when I've only read reviews and excerpts from it.  When the conversation is rich and deep that's just torture for me.  It's like watching other people enjoying a deep dish pizza while you're on a diet.  You know you can join in but it just wouldn't be right.

So I'm being transparent here.  Anyone else have this issue?  Anyone know how to handle it?