Category Archives: Culture
I remember the stares and smirks on people’s faces as we walked past. It was the middle of the day, I was about 12 years old, and we were on holidays at Penneshaw on Kangaroo Island. My friend and I were bored and decided to go fishing. We grabbed our gear and began the walk around the bay to the jetty.
Most of Penneshaw is built looking over Hog Bay and it’s always easy to know when the fish are biting: You just look out your front window and see how many people there are on the jetty. Hence the smirks and shakes of the heads as we trudged past houses on our way – the jetty was completely empty.
Still, it was something to do. We walked out along the jetty and fumbled around with our lines. I’d never liked fishing and had little idea what to do. So it was pretty surprising when, not five minutes later, we’d caught a fish! And then another. And then more – almost as fast as we could reset our lines a new fish would jump on. Within a few hours we’d caught 81 fish (81 more than we knew what to do with), and you guessed it, most of the town were out there on the jetty getting their share too.
I won’t say that I learned to fish that day. But I did learn this: If no-one’s fishing it doesn’t mean no-one’s biting.
One of the myths that holds us back from effective mission is the idea that no one’s interested in God any more. It’s just not true. But if we believe it to the point where we stop fishing for people, we’ll prove ourselves right – in a way. I guess it’s true that fish won’t bite if you give them nothing to bite on.
So I wonder are you willing to walk that “walk of shame” to the jetty, and have a go even if you’re no expert? Like my friend and I that day, you might catch fishers as well as fish!
One of the most challenging tasks of sacred agents is contextualization. (Oh the irony, I’ve used a 19-letter word and a 17-letter word already.) Contextualization is the challenge of translating the great news of God’s Kingdom, which reaches across all time, places and cultures, into a specific time, place and culture so that it can be understood. If you’ve ever looked at someone, scratched your head, and thought “how can I possibly put this wonderful hope in a way that you’ll be able to grasp?” then you’ve wrestled with contextualization. It’s tricky.
And of all of the trickiness, there’s the danger that it makes us tricky. It’s good for us to keep our finger on the pulse of societal trends and communication methods. In our dealing with the world we are to be as wise as serpents. But we’re also meant to be as innocent as doves.
If we follow too closely the PR approach to mission, never wanting to offend or repel anyone, loudly proclaiming the “upside” of following Jesus and fudging on the cost, we can end up being quite unlike Jesus in our efforts to represent him. There is a wonderful straightforwardness to Jesus, speaking the truth lovingly but also directly and clearly, and being up-front about the cost of discipleship.
(Selling Christianity as a lifestyle choice by highlighting how its benefits far outweighs its costs has problems in itself in leading to consumer Christianity where people “select” Jesus for his usefulness rather than submit and entrust themselves to him, but let’s discuss that later.)
Another form of trickiness comes when we make reconciliation to God an over-complicated process. When a person is 1,000 miles from God’s kingdom, sometimes we try to influence them towards a place just 990 miles from God. Nudge them a little bit closer, and feel that we’ve done some mission. But a person 1,000 miles from God is actually only one step away (hallelujah!), and we see many such people in the Gospels coming to Jesus and being wonderfully transformed. Do we inch people along the garden path sometimes instead of inviting them to come right on in?
What might it mean for us to be clear and straightforward as agents of the Kingdom? More wise and yet less sophisticated? Might it not be both truer to the gospel and refreshing and appealing to many in our time and culture?
It’s a tricky game we’re in. As agents for God’s great resistance movement, just mentioning the movement is frowned upon by the cultural police, let alone openly recruiting for it! How can we possibly get away with it? Psst, just pretend like you’re reading a blog and let’s talk about it.
One of the problems with an underground movement like ours is paranoia – you come to believe that everyone else is against you. When we focus on our difficulty to speak out in a Christophobic society, we forget that there are others, too, who regret the Great Forced Silence: the sympathetic enquirers. They are open, even wanting to be recruited. They want to join the resistance, but they don’t know where to apply.
(You might think it obvious – apply at a church, speak to a pastor – but some are concerned not to expose themselves so obviously (think of those who like Nicodemus approached Jesus at night), and some are not even sure that any given church will connect them with the real movement.)
Such people want to ask their questions, they thirst for a spiritual D&M, but they are not sure where it’s safe to get it. Which leads to my point: Do the people around you know that you’re a safe person to have a spiritual conversation with? How can you hint that you are?
If you keep your Christianity privatised and use no hint or symbol in your everyday space, people will not be likely to approach you for the inside word. On the other hand, if you’re over-the-top in your continual gush about Jesus people may not consider you safe, either. I know people that I dare not ask about fishing without running the risk of losing the rest of the day lost in tackle-talk and spot-speak!
So even when we’re not in a position to make the first move, are there ways we can hint that we’re pro-resistance and safe to approach? I know some who keep a Bible in view at their work-station. Others wear a cross, or have a Bible verse on display in their home. And which verse? Or what other ways might be ideal signals for your setting? Discuss…
I came across someone this week who was talking about the kind of evangelism needed to reach “a deaf culture”. That phrase really got me thinking.
Imagine you’re talking to someone, and they’re clearly just not getting what you’re trying to say. It’s just a blank stare. If you assume that it’s because they’re a bit deaf, the tempting thing might be to repeat yourself, but a bit louder. And louder again, if needed. Can you picture it?
How embarrassing it would be to find out that they’re not deaf at all, it’s just that they don’t understand English! (More to the point, the problem is that you don’t speak their language.) Getting louder and louder is just making yourself look like an obnoxious fool.
I wonder if we sacred agents can be a bit like that in our endeavours to express the gospel to those to whom we’re sent. If we’re not connecting, it’s easy to put the blame on them. THEY’RE just not interested, we might tell ourselves and others. Or THEY just don’t get it. THEY’RE closed. THEY’RE deaf. But the truth might be that WE just haven’t done the missionary work of learning their language.
Could it be that we are the deaf ones – not taking enough time to listen to people to understand their world-view, their way of thinking, their language? It’s fascinating to me that God’s approach from the beginning (in the Garden of Eden) and Jesus’ approach to so many was not to open with “Have I got news for you” but rather with questions, drawing people out and being prepared to begin by listening.
I’m not convinced that our culture is deaf, or completely closed to God. It might be deafened by the incredible multitude of voices and messages that bombard it daily. In that case, raising our voices louder and increasing the din isn’t really a good answer. What if we found ways to give quality time to really listen with interest to people, all the while asking God’s Spirit for insight into just how His great news can best be communicated to them?
Evangelism does involve speaking. We do need to find our voice. But we need to find it in their language.
When we think about what the gospel is, quite often we get fixated on the details of how people can be saved. How to get into the kingdom. The trouble is, there’s no point in telling people how to enter a place they don’t want to go. What’s the point in hailing down cars telling them how to get to the airport, when they don’t want to go there?
The how is important – it’s worth knowing and getting right. But we could, I think, swing more of our efforts to telling people the WHO and the WHAT of God’s kingdom – and they may well then ask us how to enter.
Many people seem to have the idea that God’s big dream is that everyone would behave themselves and attend church – a club, they think, where everyone is very careful to conform and pretend to be good, a club where the rules are explained over and over and the game is never played. Have we contributed to that impression? Do we continue to in ways?
God is so much more than a cosmic referee with whistle in mouth looking for people who are breaking the rules. His dream is not that people would stop sinning, but that they would be explosively transformed. Not merely that thieves would “stop thieving” – but become givers! Not merely that cursers would “stop cursing” – but become encouragers (Eph 3:28-29)! Our message is not merely that empty people can come and “be filled” – but come and be turned into fountains (John 7:38)! It’s a message of radical and good transformation! (Yes, for those fixated on how, not by our own efforts but by God’s grace and empowering).
Our message is not merely “Come follow Jesus” but also “…and he will make you fishers for people. He will enlist you in his incredible re-creative plot. He will transform you, and through you, the world!” Now that’s explosive.
The gospel of behavioural conformity has its roots as much in new-world-settler-western-imperialism as it does in Scripture. It’s an emasculating message that defuses people down to worker-bees. The biblical gospel, on the other hand, is explosive in releasing people as carriers of a viral goodness that will supplant the empires. One saps, the other inspires – which one are we conveying?
I had a rude awakening last week. It was the height of the December rush, work was incredibly busy, the kid’s end-of-school week was just done and renovations were underway at our house. Read: stress.
It was just as I was grappling with a kitchen installation that I saw through the window a young man striding up our driveway, clipboard under this arm.
My heart sank. I hate doorknockers. My single thought as I approached the door was “How quickly can I get rid of this guy?” And sure enough, before his opening sentence offering re-roofing was complete, I’d packed him on his way. I was firm and kind – though probably not in equal proportion.
Actually I was fuming. Who buys a roof that way?! I screamed inwardly. If I want a new roof then when I am good and ready, I will research companies on the net and in my own good time I will make the call.
And right then came an Advent moment – I realised that Jesus is a doorknocker. He comes when he is ready. He breaks into our world in his own way in his own time. (And he will again.)
Boy can he be inconvenient! When he called his first disciples on the beach, they could have said “Look mate, can’t you see we’re in the middle of a shift here?” But instead they drop their nets, and some good fish rot, and some good customers are lost – because the kingdom of God has come by.
Jesus doesn’t just come to town, he comes through town and some people drop everything and follow while others – people like me? – just can’t fit him into their schedule and agenda. Jesus never fits into anyone’s agenda. You can’t fit him into your life. But you are invited to fit into his.
“Here I am, I stand at the door and knock,” he says in Revelation 3. Will we truly receive him or send him packing? But furthermore, what does this say about our roles as sacred agents – ‘doorknockers’ on his behalf? Are we prepared to risk the irritation and ire of those who aren’t ready?
PS Doorknocker, quite possibly angel, I’m sorry! I skipped the reroof but got the reproof.