Couldn't Help Noticing

Gospel growth vs. church growth

While preparing for and promoting the Gospel Growth vs. Church Growth conference next month, I've often been asked by people, “So what is the difference?” I've come upon some words by David Wells from Above All Earthly Pow'rs: Christ in a Postmodern World (Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, 2006) which explain the difference quite poignantly.

No doubt all churches are trying to reach the infamous ‘postmodern’ generation. Wells defines these people as ones who

inhabit a psychological world in which Good and Evil have no real objective status but typically dissolve merely into good and bad feelings ... [T]he search for spirituality today frequently takes a therapeutic direction and moral reality is most commonly only in the far-off distance ... [T]his search allows people to develop their own spirituality in their own way. (p. 119)

Wells says that seeker churches (aka ‘church growth’ churches) are “brilliantly exploiting this spiritual search”. He continues:

[The spiritual search] is producing a seeker's culture. America is tuned in to spiritual matters but not to religious formulations. This makes it very easy to gain a hearing for what is spiritual but hard to maintain a genuinely biblical posture because that becomes a part of “religion.” It is very easy to build churches in which seekers congregate; it is very hard to build churches in which biblical faith is maturing into genuine discipleship. It is the difficulty of this task which has been lost in many seeker churches, which are meeting places for those who are searching spiritually but are not looking for that kind of faith which is spiritually tough and countercultural in a biblical way. (p. 119)

Wells seems to be implying that church growth strategies and ministries are giving the postmoderns exactly what they want: empty spirituality. Alternatively, a gospel growth church focuses on ‘genuine discipleship’, which is biblical and countercultural. To many, this just isn't flashy enough or attached to enough group-dynamic jargon to be considered helpful. But this is what Jesus called his followers to do (Matt 28:16-20).

Viral ministry

Craig talks about setting up MTS at Drummoyne on the DVD I'm watching. It's funny that he says that MTS is seen as being too much of an Anglican thing in some parts of the Sydney Presbyterian church and regional areas because in Melbourne, the complaint is that MTS is far too Presbyterian!

I hope the MTS ‘virus’ continues to keep jumping denominational barriers to infect gospel-minded people everywhere. It's not really about shoring up denominational structures; it's about finding good ways to put 2 Timothy 2:2 into practice: “[A]nd what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also”.

Here’s mud in your eye

Of all the quirky, delightful and intriguing things that happen in John chapter 9, perhaps the most inexplicable is why Jesus bothers with the mud. You remember what happens—how Jesus sees a not-at-all random blind man as he passes by, then makes the morally superior disciples look stupid (again) by telling them that the blindness is not the result of the man's sin or his parents' sin; how Jesus then spits on the ground, makes mud with the saliva, anoints the blind man's eyes with it (although ‘anoint’ seems like too regal a word for mud), and finally sends him to the Pool of Sent to wash it off.

We can only wonder what was going through the blind man's mind during all this.

“Oh, thank you so much for reminding me that I am blind. I got up this morning and forgot. And thanks for sticking the sandal in at the same time. What do you want me to say? Yes, it's all my fault. I did some bad things in the womb, and came out blind! ... But wait a minute! Oh sweet! Apparently I've been sitting here blind all these years just so that the works of God might be displayed in me? I'd like to see that. Or perhaps grope about and maybe hear that!

“And now he says that it's nearly night time, when I could have sworn that I've only been sitting here for a couple of hours. Anyway. Oh, and what is that sound?! Is he spitting at me? This just keeps getting better. And what's he slapping on my face? Is that mud?! He's put mud in my eyes! Well, yes, I guess I will go off for a dip at the pool. Got to wash the mud off somehow. Thanks for everything, fella!”

And of course he goes and washes, and comes back seeing.

Perhaps my attempt at the blind man's inner voice isn't really fair, because, as the chapter unfolds, he emerges as a very likeable character. He is honest, courageous and quick-witted before the Jewish leaders (unlike his spineless parents), and, by the time Jesus meets him again at the end of the chapter, he is ready to believe in Jesus and worship him. His transformation from blindness to sight exactly parallels the descent of the Pharisees into blindness.

But why the mud? Jesus could quite easily have healed the man with a word, as he did so spectacularly with the official's son a few chapters earlier. So why the rigmarole with the saliva and the mud?

We get our first hint well into the chapter when John happens to mention in passing, “Now it was a Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes” (v. 14). And in the ensuing Jewish interrogations of the formerly blind man, the exact manner of the healing and its implications for Sabbath-breaking are a constant issue. The Jews keep asking the ex-blind man how Jesus did it and the ex-blind man keeps hedging his answers.

So the thought begins to form in the reader's mind: is it possible that Jesus deliberately made the mud (which would be construed as Sabbath-breaking) to provoke the Pharisees? He could so easily have avoided offending them either by healing without making mud, or by coming back and making mud the next day. Was he trying to wind them up? And if so, why would he do this?

The answer comes in Jesus' final conversation with the ex-blind man where he summarizes the meaning of the sign he had performed: “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” (v. 39).

Jesus' mission was not only to save and rescue and heal and restore, but also to expose and divide and harden. He came to give sight, but also to give blindness. His parables and teachings and miraculous signs all had this twin effect. For those who had ears to hear—or, in this case, eyes to see—his words were the words of eternal life; for those who closed their eyes and stopped their ears, the ministry of Jesus only pushed them further into hardness of heart and unbelief. They thought they were sitting in judgement of Jesus and his message. But in reality the judgement was all running in the opposite direction.

Paul makes the same point about the gospel in 1 Corinthians 1. It was God's wisdom to bring salvation in such a weak and foolish way that the strong and clever of this world would despise it, and in their pride and arrogance bring shame and judgement upon themselves.

All of which puts a dampener on my natural instinct to want the gospel to be as attractive and winsome as possible to everyone at all times. I want the gospel to be reasonable and compelling and loved by all—and especially by the clever, powerful and influential people. I want them to see that Jesus really is the One, and to admire his gospel as the most glorious message in the world.

But if it's the true gospel I'm sharing with them, there's every chance that it will be a stench in their nostrils—that they will despise it as weak and stupid and irrational—that, claiming to see, they will, in fact, only be made all the more blind by their contact with Jesus and his word. God's judgement comes upon them even as they come within touching distance of his Son—like a strange, divine toast that wishes salvation to the world by saying, “Here's mud in your eye!”

Funding of religious schools

Recently Bob Johnston, the Executive Officer of the Australian Association of Christian Schools, was asked to participate in a public debate on the subject of ‘Should taxpayers be funding religious schools?’. As Australian (and particularly New South Wales) readers will know, there has been quite a sustained attack on the funding of non-government schools—particularly ‘religious’ ones—over the last few years.

With Bob's kind permission, I have posted his notes for this debate on our website. They provide an excellent critique of not only the flawed philosophical assumptions behind this attack, but also a helpful outline of the true facts and figures on government funding—facts which are often distorted for political purposes.

Here's an extract to whet your appetite:

• Public education, while defined in the Act as ‘secular’ in nature, is far from neutral in matters impacting beliefs, moral standards, interpretations of curricula, selection of course content, the values orientation of policies, etc.
• While state school advocates might claim that they are not influenced by particular creeds or religions, they are nonetheless influenced by philosophical axioms that more or less define the worldview within which they unpack the complexities of life and nature embodied in the curricula.
• Philosophically, the worldview that is commonly promoted and modeled within state education lies somewhere in the mix of Secular/Scientific Humanism, Naturalism, Utilitarianism, Deconstructivism and Post Modernism.
• It's a composite worldview that, while not religious per se, stands in the place of religion in that it positions itself both formally and informally on the same metaphysical questions that major world religions address: Does prime reality begin with matter or God? Is life autonomous or created? Is nature random or ordered? Are humans complex biological machines or image-bearers of God? Is morality just a social and cultural convention or an extension of the character of a good God? Is the end of history in the lap of chance or the eternal purposes of God? and so on.
• The worldview that is therefore promoted in state schools clearly positions itself as a substitute for religion.
• Its advocates claim the intellectual high ground simply on the basis that they are not religious.
• I find this a curious logic and a convenient blind spot in their raison dêtre.
• Is there an hypocrisy going on here? For one belief system (for that's what it really is) that remains largely unexposed to public scrutiny appears to be okay to be publicly funded, yet another, that is open to any who care to examine it, is not in the public interest and certainly ought not to receive public funding.
• Let me ask again: isn't this a double standard and isn't it time it was exposed for what it is?

Treasure for all

While doing a bit of itinerant preaching these last few months, I had the opportunity to take in quite an array of church music. I listened to and sang many older hymns which I have not heard in some time, and it was a joy to think about and be encouraged from such substantial lyrics. Unfortunately, against this backdrop, many of the modern songs we sang came across even worse than I had remembered them.

At many of the churches, we sang ‘Come, Now is the Time to Worship’. Given my dislike for the song, I haven't thought about the lyrics in some time. There are certainly many lyrics that make this song quite unpalatable. But, as I heard it over and over, I was struck by one part of the song that I had never taken note of before:

One day every tongue will confess you are God;
One day every knee will bow.
Still, the greatest treasure remains for those
Who gladly choose you now.

Each time that stanza came around, I couldn't help but wonder if the songwriters have misinterpreted a Biblical text. “One day every tongue will confess you are God; / One day every knee will bow” is presumably an allusion to Philippians 2:10-11. Then the interpretation of that Scriptural allusion comes in the next line. This is where I get confused. By stating that the treasure is “greatest” for those who choose God now, there seems to be a strong and obvious implication that there will still be “treasure” for everyone at some time.

It could mean that some (those who gladly choose God) will receive a form of treasure right now and the rebels who refuse to confess God—well, they will just have to wait. Another way of understanding this line is that there will be a hierarchy of treasures in heaven, and those who choose God now in the present will receive the greatest treasure when rewards are divvied up in the future. Either way, the point seems to be that even those who don't choose God now will receive some type of “treasure” on the day they confess Jesus as Lord. It just may not be the “greatest”.

There's no doubt that the lyrics to the allusion are correct: one day everyone will confess Jesus as Lord. However, the sad and devastating reality is that only some of those people will actually consider it a treasure. The rest will continue to hate God and hate all others for eternity.

So maybe next time this song is played, it act as a reminder to ensure that the gospel is taught clearly to our friends at church, just in case some misunderstand. Perhaps we need to make a point to talk about the gospel (instead of the most recent sporting event or TV show) after the formal gathering concludes. That way the true gospel of judgement and salvation from that judgement (to borrow from DB Knox) is heard by some. And if further singing is needed, perhaps the songs in Revelation 19 are a better place to start.