Mark Driscoll thinks Francis is crazy for walking away from his Cornerstone. Francis says he left his church because he wants to live a life that fits in the context of the Bible. His point is that leaving a healthy ministry and the comforts of home in order to be part of what God is doing is a relatively tame move in light of scripture. He jokes about how his life would fit into the New Testament: “James, killed. Peter, imprisoned. Francis goes to Asia.”

I’m proud of Francis and his family. Not because we need to seek out suffering. Not because we’re in a race to see who can “give up the most for Jesus.” But because they have stepped out in radical obedience, even when others didn’t understand.

Francis didn’t want his church to depend on him. He didn’t want his audience to think that planting a church in an affluent suburb was the standard of success. But now, more than ever, I wish they would imitate him. As a prominent pastor in the U.S., Francis is doing something that others should consider. Rather than building a kingdom, why not plant and move on? Why not leave what you’ve built in order to have your worldview influenced by first-hand accounts of what God is doing outside your cultural context? Why not venture out beyond a short-term mission trip to allow believers from other parts of the world to influence your perspective on faith, church, culture, money, and life?

Francis didn’t do anything crazy, he just went first.

Who’s next?

Some might read my commentary about widespread pragmatism in the American church today and ask, “So what?” Others might share my concern, but see few alternatives. I have never wanted to be merely a critic, so here I’d like to draw some conclusions. Next, I’ll try to share some ideas for what a counterintuitive church might look like.

As missionary church planters, we were constantly faced with the challenge of thinking through the eventual outcomes of our strategies and approaches to ministry. This was due, in large part, to the fact that our efforts to cooperate with the few evangelicals we found in Europe were often frustrated by their adherence to what their churches learned from the American missionaries who planted them a generation ago. European evangelicalism today looks a lot like American evangelicalism from the 1960s. Why? Because there are consequences to the decisions church leaders make.

Everyone’s traditional. Some of us just start new ones rather than following someone else’s. There are consequences to the tradition of pragmatism. You might be seeing “results” with the way you’re doing things but consider this:

• If people come to faith through confrontational, guilt-trip evangelism, they’re coming to a confrontational, guilt-trip faith.
• If your church’s myopic focus on Biblical knowledge makes it more lecture hall than place of worship, you’re likely going to get a bunch of armchair Reformation theologians and wanna-be ancient Greek scholars who are more concerned with being right than anything else.
• If you allow your church to get so large that it’s a challenge to really know everyone (anyone) else in that local body, (versus starting smaller, more local gatherings,) you are discipling your people into a less personal expression of Christianity and, therefore, a less personal view of Jesus. [Pragmatic argument:] Of course, relational church can happen in your megachurch (through small groups, cliques, informal social circles, etc.), but as you add programs and square-footage, it begins to happen in spite of how you do church, not because of how you do church.
• If your church mired in legalism, it won’t last. Legalistic religious people eventually can’t keep up with their legalisms. To them, God is only pleased with an impossibly demanding cycle of performance. They usually end up abandoning their “faith” or isolating themselves for fear of secular contamination.
• If your church worships worship, your people might not learn to worship God. At the very least, they could be left unable to worship without a worship band and Mediashout® video backgrounds. Believers need to learn to worship, learn, serve, and share without the help of the professionals who make their livings by (intentionally or otherwise) perpetuating dependence.
• If your church sits in grandstands with the lights dimmed, staring at a jumbo-tron, don’t be surprised if they act like spectators.

Nobody has a perfect church. I certainly don’t have all (any?) of the answers. And if we wait until we’ve got it right to do ministry, we’ll never start. Nevertheless, we must always be open to changing the way we do things- especially as we begin to see the potential detrimental results of  the way we do things. We must be sure that we know the costs before we say that we can do “whatever it takes.”

What’s wrong with practicing pragmatism? It tells people that we serve a pragmatic God. But we don’t. Ours is a God who time and time again shows Himself to do the opposite of what we would do.

NEXT: Impractical Worship

So far, three parts into my multi-part series on the counterintuitive nature of life in Christ, and I’ve yet to receive any comments accusing me of being too negative or of harboring jealousy over the megachurch’s success. Clearly, I’ve either offended (or bored) away everyone who disagrees with me, or I’ve not been clear. Let’s be sure it’s not the latter.

Megachurches are based in extreme pragmatism. Consider the rationale behind them:

• “They allow the church to have resources that smaller churches just can’t have.”
• “We didn’t set out to build an impersonal empire of seeker-friendliness, but its what the people wanted.”
•  ”Hey, God’s blessing it.” or, “As long as people are coming to faith…”
• “The Bible doesn’t say we shouldn’t have a multi-million dollar building with a coffee shop and a parking structure.”

Video Venues are an exercise in pragmatism. Supporters will be quick to claim:

• “The video sites allow our pastor to increase his influence.”
• “This way, I can spend more time with my family.”
• “People don’t even seem to notice that the preacher isn’t physically there.”
• “Whether we like it or not, people come to hear (our pastor) speak.”
• “Paul wrote letters and sent them around. We use DVDs and streaming live video.”

Professional parachurch missions are a pragmatic response to the Great Commission. Churches outsource missions to them because:

• “Our people are better trained for missions than most people in the local church.”
•  ”People are dying and going to hell.”
• “A small church with limited resources can’t do as much as we can.”
• “We’ve organized the work into strategic priorities.”
• “We have a great insurance program.”

I am not saying any of these things are necessarily bad. I am saying that they are sensible solutions to perceived problems that may not be God’s best for His church. We should not default to these sorts of pragmatic approaches to ministry, mission, and church just because they “work” or “make sense.” Why not?

How we do ministry has profound and long-lasting detrimental consequences on the churches we serve. If we elevate practicality, effectiveness, and sensibility as church values, we risk changing the very message we preach. So much of who Jesus is and what Jesus does is counterintuitive. Why is it that so much of what the church does just makes sense?

My question is this: how can someone like me (missionary, practitioner) gently and lovingly point out the pervasive pragmatism in the American church without coming across as a negative, overly critical, know-it-all jerk? 

NEXT: What’s Wrong With Pragmatism?

Whenever we talk about our theology of church, we usually look back to the “first church” that we read about in the book of Acts. Some read what they’re doing into the account (from a modern church lens). Others follow the example of the early believers quite literally. Certainly we can all be thankful and learn from our spiritual heritage. But why stop at the Jerusalem church? As we think through what it means to be the church, why not consider the church that Jesus planted?

Maybe Jesus planted the church he intended. Maybe the twelve disciples (plus the 60 or so others) were a church:

• The scriptures mainly feature the men in the group (they were the ones he first called), but we know there were others, including women and young people in the larger group. Maybe initially only the Twelve met the qualifications for church leadership.

• Spent a lot of time together, but didn’t meet congregationally, and didn’t have a building.

• Ministry was teaching, meeting needs, challenging the religious, and throwing parties for unbelieving friends. They were known by their love.

• Were a region-wide social network.

• They stayed involved in their Jewish religion (insofar as they could).

• Were sent as missionaries and disciple makers. They saw themselves as planters of the church (which is, perhaps different from being church planters), intersecting with various oikos’ and declaring the kingdom.

• Were accountable to one another and to their teacher.

• Concerned themselves with abiding in Christ, forgiveness, and loving God and one another.

• Worshiped, prayed, and ate together.

• Proceeded in the power and authority of Jesus.

My point here is not to advocate for a roaming gypsy commune-style church, or even to be critical of church as we know it. I just wonder why we don’t consider Jesus a church planter, when he clearly saw Himself as one. I wonder why we focus on church at the local (or multi-site) level when Jesus almost always talked about it in terms of the Kingdom.

This “Mom-and-Pop Church” series of posts is my attempt to cast a vision for an expression of church that is sustainable, relational, and biblical. I believe that despite the megachurch’s efficiency and momentum, the trend is fundamentally flawed and limited by its own culture and pragmatism. I continue to challenge leaders to think like missionaries in all that they do, in order that we might participate fully in the building of God’s Kingdom.

The megachurch is following the same path. For all its effort in creating an “experience,” it’s size, culture, pragmatism, and impersonal nature will leave thousands of megachurch Christians wanting for something local, unique, responsible, and sustainable.

Let me introduce you to the Mom-and-Pop Church (yes I’m just making this up as I write). This small(ish) operation looks like this:

-The Mom-and-Pop Church is a spiritual nuclear family. It is small, informal, and personal. The small size allows the group to be in touch with everything the church does. The informality keeps time together comfortable and prevents worship from becoming a performance. The personal nature of the group insures real accountability and ongoing involvement in the lives of other church members.

-The familial structure helps the church know how to behave when they’re together. Brothers and sisters. Moms and Dads. Even the logistics are affected- children sit at a “kiddie table” (just like at Thanksgiving with the relatives), some serve, some make decisions, some sit on the couch and watch football.

-Just like people are born into their families, Mom-and-Pop church members are called into their spiritual families. There’s no “shopping,” “hopping,” or “targeting.” People don’t leave their families when they disagree- they work it out because family is important. Children learn from elders. Responsibility is expected. Discipline is integral. Love is unconditional.

-Church members see themselves as church planters. As they share their faith by talking about it and living it out publicly, they don’t invite new believers to join their group. Instead, they disciple friends in the context of their spheres of influence with the goal of seeing a new Mom-and-Pop Church started (complete with its own leadership and familial structure). New churches don’t carry any brand identity and are therefore free to develop their own personalities based on gifting, affinity, and experience.

- Mom-and-Pop Churches hold tightly to the identity of the church, and loosely to its form. Church doesn’t need to meet congregationally (at a regular time, or all at once), teaching doesn’t have to be sermonic, and worship doesn’t have to include singing. Their identity is that of a local church which is part of the Universal Church. Their Kingdom mentality means that growth happens at the city level- not the local level.

-Kingdom focus also leads them to pray for other gatherings of the church. Churches keep up with one another through the same social network that planted them in the first place.

-Mom-and-Pop Churches don’t have (or need) buildings. Instead, they meet wherever they live- in homes, parks, cafes, restaurants, and schools. They have no overhead; no facilities, no sound system, no rent, no insurance. Their tithes and other giving goes to ministry, generosity, social action, and the food they eat together. Pastors aren’t salaried, but their part-time income may be offset by personal gifts.

-At least two elders. These are (relatively) older, spiritually mature men (if you must) who take responsibility for the total well being of the local church. This would include insuring that the group gets sound doctrinal teaching, and that it engages in regular worship, service, prayer, and fellowship. Elders guard the unity, identity, and sanctity of the local church. (By the way, “sound teaching” may include sermon podcasts, video, etc.)

-”Church” is what they are, not what they do. Belonging is not tied to activity. When you’re a member of the family and you don’t show up for dinner, family members are disappointed, but you’re still part of the family.

Tune in next time for the final part of the series.

“I would argue that megachurches are intrinsically unhealthy because of the exorbitant building costs, reliance on attractional church programs, and the fact that your pastor doesn’t know your name.”

A couple of Ed’s readers responded to my comment with,

“I guess I’m not into questioning the idea of megachurches till one get’s larger than the church in first century Jerusalem. I don’t think James knew the thousands of parishioners in that church by name.”

and

“Didn’t the church begin as a mega-church? ie Jerusalem and 3000 were saved in one day.”

It never really occurred to me that there were Christians who believed that the first century church looked even remotely like church as it’s known in America today. I can’t imagine that early believers organized themselves congregationally, or that what they did/could (in any way, shape, or form) be compared to a modern megachurch.

This is a classic example of bringing American Christian presuppositions to the scriptures. The commenters on Ed’s blog didn’t say this, but let’s apply the thinking; the elders (“pillars,” Galatians 2:9) were staff members, the church met all together in one place, the pastor preached a sermon.

Scripture doesn’t paint this picture of the early church. According to the book of Acts (2:42-47), the first Christians were Jews. They participated in the Temple, they observed Jewish traditions. Their Christianity was expressed through learning, sharing, eating, praying/fasting, praising God and meeting needs. The Lord added thousands to their number. Maybe it’s my postmodern distrust in all things institutional. Maybe it’s my time on the mission field, away from established traditional churches. Whatever the reason, I don’t see this as a megachurch.

Why would we assume that “praising God” means that the believers met in one place for a time of guided “praise and worship?” Why would we think that early church leaders were pastors in any sense of the word as it’s used today (seminary-trained, full-time, executive preachers)? What would lead us to assume that the “Jerusalem Church” was a local church and not a unified citywide  movement? Why would we think that a felowshipping network of believers could be safely “translated” into something compartmentalized, attractional, branded, and programmatic? Can we not see that applying corporate and commercial principals to church actually change what it means to be the church?

Our inability to conceptualize church outside the formal, building-and-staff centered model may be one reason for the relative ineffectiveness of American missionaries planting churches on the mission field. In the short run, we can reproduce First Baptist Church by re-wiring people to think in modern, rational, and propositional term. We can build (rent/borrow/receive as gifts) buildings, set up rows of chairs all facing the pulpit, and teach people to sing in order to worship, but the popular American model for church simply isn’t sustainable, even in America.

So what might a more biblical and missional church look like? Stay tuned for my next post: Mom-and-Pop Church.