Same Mission, New Methods (Brent Roam)

The worship team at One Family Church at a recent Sunday service.

The worship team at One Family Church at a recent Sunday service.

Years ago, my grandfather's house got burglarized. Twice. Both burglaries occurred on Sunday morning. Sunday morning seems like an odd time to burglarize a house. That is unless your victim is a pastor. Everyone in the neighborhood knew my grandfather was a pastor, so everyone knew where my grandfather would be on Sunday morning. He’d be at church. That’s what pastors do. They go to church. Every Sunday. In fact, that’s what Christians around the world do. We all go to church every week. It’s our main event.

Christians are defined by our practice of gathering on Sunday (the day Christ rose) to celebrate our risen savior. We call ourselves “congregations” because our main event is to “congregate.” We call ourselves “assemblies” because our main event is to “assemble.” The scriptures use the term ekklēsian to describe Christians. Ekklēsian means the gathering together of those who are called out. The apostle Paul refers to Christians as a “body.” The body works properly only when it is “joined and held together.” In other words, we’ve got to be together in order to be who we are.  

So what happens to the Church when we can no longer do what defines us? What happens to our enterprise when we can no longer experience our main event? 

Over the last few weeks, the Church has begun to re-discover that the answer lies in our central metaphor: “We are a body.” If the Church is an organism (a body), rather than an institution, that means we adapt. That’s what healthy and robust organisms do. They adapt to new and unexpected circumstances in order to continue thriving, growing and procreating. Alaskan Wood Frogs adapted to freezing temperatures by developing the ability to slow down their heart rate. Kangaroo rats adapted to arid climates by developing the ability to draw moisture from seeds. The threadfin dragonfish adapted to the darkness of the ocean by developing the ability to generate its own light. The Church is an organism. It’s time to adapt. Here’s how: 

 

1. Mission, not Method 

The mission of the Church has never changed. The methods of the Church have proven highly adaptable over the years. Since the Day of Pentecost, Christians have simply adapted to whatever circumstances we’ve encountered. We’ve figured out new methods to worship, love, serve, and care for our community no matter what. We gathered in the temple and local synagogues, then in houses, theaters, public halls, and parks. During oppressive times, we moved underground to catacombs, wood sheds, and basement halls. Today is no different. Our mission is the same. Our methods need to change. 

 

2. Adaptation, not Abdication 

When faced with adversity, two immediate options arise. We can shrug our shoulders, bemoan the seemingly insurmountable challenges, and abdicate our duties. Or we can adapt -- we can pursue fresh and innovative approaches to fulfilling our mission. As Elizabeth Coors reminded us last week, we always knew we needed a more robust social media presence. We always knew we needed to get better at providing services to those who travel or are shut-in. We always knew we needed to reach the generation of youth whose lives largely orbit their electronic devices. Our current crisis provides us an opportunity to do what we’ve always needed to do. We are being called upon to grow and change. Just as the Church moved from parchment paper and scrolls to printing presses and leather-bound books, so now we can recognize—we are being forced to recognize—that online is real. Digital media is a viable means of transmitting our message and connecting with our community. Zoom and Google Hangouts are not a perfect substitute for the physical presence of people in our midst, but they can be an effective means to recreate Fellowship Halls and Narthexis. When confronted with a virus, it’s time to learn to go viral. Our mission never changed. Our methods always will. 

 

3. Equip, not Entertain

I’ve been on Zoom calls for weeks now. Recently, I was looking at the small rectangular-framed faces of fifty of our church leaders. At that moment, I was reminded that Christ gave leaders to the Church not only to do ministry but also to “equip the saints for ministry.” The current crisis reminds us that Christ calls each of us to be his ambassador. The Apostle Peter writes: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” Our current crisis reminds us that while physical gatherings remain at the core of who we are, we ought not to forget that where two or three are gathered in Christ’s name, he is there. We don’t need to be in a building with a professional preacher in the pulpit to proclaim the gospel. The gospel can be proclaimed wherever we are. The advancement of Christ’s mission was never meant to be reserved for a special few, ordained and set apart. It was always meant for each of us. Our physical separation during this crisis reminds us that our weekly gatherings were never meant to entertain us while we were together—they were meant to equip us for the times we are apart. 

The truth is, I can’t wait for this to be over. As a pastor myself, I can’t wait to throw my arms around the members of our congregation. I can’t wait to hug them, squeeze their hands, pat their backs, and look directly into their eyes (not the pixilated version on the screen). But, I’m also grateful for the ways God is reshaping us, renewing us and refining us during this present crisis. And I am encouraged by the Apostle Paul, who challenges us with these words in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18: 

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

The Church can be heartier and healthier if we approach this current crisis with faith, confidence, and hope. Let’s remember what we are. We’re a body. We’re Christ’s body. If we’ll have the faith to adapt our methods during this crisis, we’ll see the fruit of our efforts when this is over. 

Brent Roam is The Carver Project’s board chair and founding pastor of One Family Church in St. Louis. 

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