Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 151

Numbers in the Church: Is Bigger Badder or Better?

I've heard it from both sides, if not always so forthrightly.

"How many people now go to that church? It's huge! It must be the music. Or maybe they have lasers and a smoke machine. I hope we never sell out like that."

Or,

"How many people even go to that church? It's so small! They haven't baptized a believer in years. Their influence and importance is basically nil. I hope we are never irrelevant like that."

I realize people rarely state their opinions so candidly, but the sentiments are out there. And both sides have a point. Some big churches are more show than substance. They may have thousands of people, but they sacrificed maturity, depth, truth-driven preaching, biblical ecclesiology, and maybe even the gospel to get there. On the other hand, some small churches are backward and insulated. They may talk a big game about standing for truth, but their small size is less about gospel courage than the fact that they are hyper-critical, dated in the worst ways, and unconcerned about the lost.

Churches can be big or small for all the right reasons. Or for all the wrong reasons. We simply should not conclude that bigger is better or smaller is more sanctified. In God's eyes, the success of your church and your pastor are measured by criteria more important than weekend attendance. While we must not be scared of bigger numbers or automatically skeptical of them–numbers in the best cases represent people after all, people who are hearing the gospel and bearing fruit–neither should we fixate on numbers. Every church is different, with varying locations, gifts, opportunities, abilities, facilities, people, and cultural contexts that we can't possibly be so crass as to think big churches are always doing things better than small churches. Surely, the emphasis must be on faithfulness.

If a blessed forgetfulness about numbers seems anti-missional, we should listen to Leslie Newbigin, still one of the most seminal theologians in missional circles as he summarizes the New Testament approach to numbers:

Reviewing, then, the teaching of the New Testament, one would have to say that, on the one hand, there is joy in the rapid growth of the church in its earliest days, but that, on the other hand, there is no evidence that the numerical growth of the church is a matter of primary concern.

There is no shred of evidence in Paul's letters to suggest that he judged the churches by the measure of their success in rapid numerical growth, nor is there anything comparable to the strident cries of some contemporary evangelists that the salvation of the world depends upon the multiplication of believers.

There is an incomparable sense of seriousness and urgency as the apostle contemplates the fact that he and all people "must appear before the judgment seat of Christ" and as he acknowledges the constraint of Jesus' love and the ministry of reconciliation that he has received (2 Cor. 5:10-21). But this nowhere appears as either an anxiety or an enthusiasm about the numerical growth of the church. (The Open Secret, 126).

Wise words. We love to see more people loving Jesus and living in greater accordance to his commands, but we should not think church size, when judged by the only Judge that really matters, is a reliable measure of a church's success or a pastor's faithfulness.

Monday Morning Humor

Surely, the line around 1:20 can be used in someone's campaign commercial.

Don't Give up on the Evening Service

My whole life I've gone to church Sunday morning and Sunday evening. My parents took us to church and Sunday school on Sunday morning and they always took us back on Sunday evening. The crowd was much smaller, but there were always people eager to be there. Over the years, the evening service felt less like a "real" service. We'd watch a video for a month or combine with another church for the summer or try small groups. I have nothing against videos (in their proper place), joint services, or small groups. But at the time they all seemed like efforts to keep up the tradition of the evening service without putting forth much effort.

In college I went to a Baptist church with strong preaching. My friends and I went Sunday morning and came back hours later to their well-attended evening service. While at seminary, I attended an great OPC congregation. The attendance could be sparse on Sunday night, but I made a point to come (and even met my wife there).

My first pastoral charge was at a large church in Iowa. As the associate pastor I would often preach on Sunday evening. We had around 900 people in the morning and about half that in the evening. I was glad to be there for two services.

When I came University Reformed Church in 2004 the long-standing tradition of evening services had just about disappeared. I don't think the interim pastor had much interest in them and the attendance had dwindled to a few dozen. I told the search committee that I was committed trying to resurrect the evening service. Over the years, the service has grown to a strong core–around 125 during the school year, or about 1/4 of our Sunday morning attendance.

Every church I've ever been a part of has had a Sunday evening service. I've always gone. It's what I grew up with. It's part of my rhythm as a Christian and I am immensely grateful for it. I hope this brief blog post will encourage other Christians and other churches to consider making an evening service a part of your Christian walk and worship.

Saying Enough, But Not Too Much

Before I say anything else, let me make clear that I don't think Scripture absolutely requires an evening service, nor do I think a church member is necessarily disobedient if they don't attend their church's evening service. I know some good Reformed folks will argue that the evening service is a matter of biblical obedience. I just can't make the case that definitively. Some churches may be in cultures that make a second service on Sunday evening prohibitively difficult. Some congregations may be really committed to home groups on Sunday nights. Other congregations may have repeat services that stretch into the afternoon, or they may do the same Sunday morning service on Sunday evening. Many churches have never had an evening service. It's just not in their DNA. I sympathize with the difficulty they may have in even considering an evening service. Other churches may find it difficult to pull together a second quality service because their resources and personnel are stretched thin. Many smaller churches or church plants may be in this situation.

And then there are the individual church members who may have a hard time getting back to the evening service because they live an hour away. Or the person who has to work on Sunday evening or at 4am on Monday morning. Or the family with very young children that need to be in bed before the evening service will be over.

I know there are many reasons why having, starting, keeping, or going to the evening service may be difficult. I do not want to require more than Scripture requires.

What Is Still Worth Saying

Having said all that, let me give you several reasons why I'm thankful for our evening service and why I hope you'll consider keeping yours, going to yours, or even starting one at your church.

1. Fitting.

2. What we believe about the means of grace.

3. Lord's Day instead of the Lord's morning (even more of problem with same evening service, or a Saturday night service)

4. Hunger for the word – MLJ, get more of the Bible

5. More time in the word for your pastor, more opportunities for others to preach

6. Tradition of the church

Encourage you that it takes work. You must put forth effort. You have to give your pastor time to do it or allow other men to preach.

The One Truly Universal Condition

Like many pastors and most everyone else I know, I struggle to manage my time. We are all busy, busy, so dreadfully busy. There are many reasons for this busyness, many spiritual realities that can be both symptoms and causes of our crazy lives. Maybe I'll explore some of them later (when I'm not so busy!). But for today just some good old commonsense from Peter Drucker. He's writing about "the effective executive" but what he says about time applies to us all:

Time is also a unique resource. Of the other major resources, money is actually quite plentiful. We long ago should have learned that it is the demand for capital, rather than the supply thereof, which sets the limit to economic growth and activity. People—the third limiting resource—one can hire, though one can rarely hire enough good people. But one cannot rent, hire, buy, or otherwise obtain more time.

The supply of time is totally inelastic. No matter how high the demand, the supply will not go up. There is no price for it and no marginal utility curve for it. Moreover, time is totally perishable and cannot be stored. Yesterday's time is gone forever and will never come back. Time is, therefore, always in exceedingly short supply.

Time is totally irreplaceable. Within limits we can substitute one resource for another, copper for aluminum, for instance. We can substitute capital for human labor. We can use more knowledge or more brawn. But there is no substitute for time.

Everything requires time. It is the one truly universal condition. All work takes place in time and uses up time. Yet most people take for granted this unique, irreplaceable, and necessary resource. Nothing else, perhaps, distinguishes effective executive as much as their tender loving care of time. (The Effective Executive, 26)

So what do you think? Could you use more of Drucker's prescribed TLC with your time? Personally, I'd like to explore this topic of busyness in more in depth. It would be good for my soul and perhaps for yours too. If only I could find the time.

Just Keep Going

William Wilberforce was born in Hull, England into a well-to-do family on August 24, 1759.  Like almost all Englishman of his day, he grew up with at least a veneer of Christianity. But Wilberforce was not a Christian.  Early in life, while staying with his godly Uncle William and Aunt Hannah, he grew attracted to Methodism and its evangelical piety.  But by the time he entered college, that attraction had faded and Wilberforce was, as he said later, "as thoughtless as the rest of them."  He was proud, pompous, sarcastic, and cynical like most young men from the upper class.

By 1785, Wilberforce, now having been in Parliament for several years, had a spiritual crisis.  He felt immensely convicted of sin and ingratitude and mourned for his misspent life. He had wasted his privileges, his time, his talent, and his opportunities.  He prayed to "that Saviour who died upon the Cross" to atone for his sins and to warm his dull heart.  Wilberforce had been converted.

Almost the first person he confided in as a born again Christian was the slave trader captain turned Christian turned hymn writer, John Newton.  Wilberforce had heard Newton preach years ago when he lived with his aunt and uncle.  From 1785 on, Newton would be his spiritual mentor.  On Good Friday, April 14, 1786, Wilberforce received communion for the first time.  He was a changed man.

In 1787, Wilberforce, now an evangelical Christian, made his first public declaration of his willingness to take up the cause of abolishing the slave trade.  Over the next decade, Wilberforce made countless speeches, served on committees, and introduced legislation tirelessly. For years his minor successes were met with greater setbacks.  The cause of abolition was not going to succeed.  In 1796, he wrote a letter to Newton explaining that he wanted to retire from public life.  Newton, always the wise mentor, told Wilberforce to stay in Parliament:

Some of [God's] people may be emphatically said not to live to themselves.  May it not be said of you?…You meet with many things which weary and disgust you…but then they are inseparably connected with your path of duty; and though you cannot do all the good you wish for, some good is done…

So Wilberforce continued to labor in Parliament.  Every year, from 1797-1803, he suffered setbacks.  From 1797-99 his annual motion for abolition was defeated.  Then his motions were postponed by the conflict with France.  But all the while, even as Wilberforce suffered defeat after defeat, the tide was turning in Britain.  By his relentless pursuit of Christian principles and his living out of Christian virtue, Wilberforce had made, as it was said later, goodness fashionable.  Which was making the slave trade, and later slavery itself, unfashionable.

In 1807, Wilberforce once again made a motion to abolish the slave trade.  Nearly everyone who spoke was in support of the motion and personally applauded Wilberforce.  At four in the morning on February 24, the Commons voted to abolish the slave trade 283 to 16.  They all stood and gave three hurrahs to Wilberforce while he sat in his seat with his head bowed and wept.  It took twenty years and Wilberforce's leading and Newton's mentoring to abolish the slave trade in the British empire, and it would take more years to work for the emancipation of the slaves.  John Quincy Adams, the sixth president of the United States remarked "Wilberforce is one of the party called in derision the Saints…who under sanctified visors pursue worldly objects with the ardor and perseverance of saints."

In Revelation 13 John warns of a terrible beast who is allowed to make war on God's people. Saints will be taken captive and destroyed. That's the reality John outlines in verse 10. But the response to such antagonism is not to retreat but to entrench. "Here is a call for the endurance and the faith of the saints." Some of us may be called to accomplish great things in the cause of Christ like Wilberforce.  Others will be called to endure great trials and suffering and even persecution on account of Christ.  All of us, in a world often unfriendly and unsympathetic to genuine Christian faith, are called to perseverance and faithfulness. There is no hope, no holiness, and no influence without it.

Unity Based on Truth

In this excerpt from Turning Around the Mainline: How Renewal Movements are Changing the Church, Tom Oden writes wisely (and passionately) about the right and wrong ways to pursue ecclesiastical unity. Evangelicals who still call the mainline their home will know exactly what he is talking about.

Oldline ecumenical debate and planning are prone to misfire through a fundamental misunderstanding of the relation of unity and truth: They do no seek unity based on truth.

Four modern ecumenical arguments in particular misfire, as shown by David Mills. They even make Christian disunity more likely. These four following arguments have prevailed in liberal ecumenism, each unintentionally eliciting disunity. Each is a mistake "if-then" correlation:

1. If we can just get together on some common ethical standards, then we will therefore achieve the unity of believers.

2. If we could have the same open ecumenical feelings or experiences, then we would feel our unity.

3. If we could just be open to dialogue, then we would grow toward unity.

4. If we merge the separate institutions based on different memories created by the Spirit, then we would experience our unity through an institution, and thus we now must renew our commitment to the institutional vestiges of ecumenism.

All these attempts are alike in one way: they put unity ahead of truth. They squander the truth to achieve a superficial unity. All are mistaken. All spawn disillusionment with efforts at Christian unity. Together they have resulted in the ecumenical turbulence that now buffets us.

All misfire for the same reason: they base unity on something other than the truth, by avoiding the only basis from which Christian unity can emerge—that is the revealed Word whose hearing is enabled by the Holy Spirit and received through faith. (111)

What the Debates Say About America

I haven't seen all thirteen thousand Republican debates, but I admit I've seen more than a sentient being should want to see. I've not commented on them because I'm not interested in making this blog an endorsement for any party or candidate. But it's hard not think about what the debates say about America, what they can teach us about ourselves, our values, and our political process.

Herewith, then, a few observations:

1. Communication matters. Some people decry the debates, like they did Obama, saying that being a good talker is not what the presidency is about. Presidents should do things, not just talk about things. And while it's true that Presidents should do things, it's also true that they should be good at saying things. In times of war or crisis, the President must reassure. In confusing times, he should be able to explain. In dark times, he should be able to connect to people through the power of words. Speaking is one of the most important things a modern President does. He will give speeches, talk with foreign leaders, do interviews, hold press conferences, and make grave announcements. Communication is key. It's good for the debates to test this.

2. It's unfortunate that the debates are covered almost entirely as a horse race. Style points are not irrelevant (see my previous point), but the winners and losers of these debates has almost nothing to do with how cogent a person's arguments were. The postgame analysis is all about who looked nervous or pinched or confident or cocky. The commentary focuses on the minutia of debate tactics just like the general election coverage is obsessed with momentum and campaign strategy more than the substance of ideas. The debates are American Idol for people who sing worse, dress more respectably, and spend equal time on their hair. The candidates perform and then the judges on every channel discuss whether they should get a ticket to Hollywood (er, South Carolina).

3. People in this country value competence (see Rick Perry's oops) and want someone to give voice to their emotions (see the rise of Newt). They want intelligence, but don't try too hard (see Jon Huntsman's Mandarin). They like plain spoken politicians (see Herman Cain), but don't want their leaders to plain run out of knowledgeable answers (see also Herman Cain).

4. As always, Americans claim to dislike negative campaign attacks. And as always, they can be greatly swayed by them. We all say we want a candidate to stay above the fray and run a positive campaign. But we won't in the end vote for him after he's been beat up by everybody else. Presidential campaigning is like Owen's dictum on sin: kill them or they'll be killing you.

5. Americans will overlook almost any sin if they think you think you are a mess. They will overlook almost nothing if they think you think you have it all together. Mitt seems to care about his reputation as a man of integrity, which makes him more vulnerable to attacks of character. Newt has more baggage than the Orient Express so no one much cares when another potential scandal or inconsistency surfaces. Americans hate the smell of hypocrisy and flimflam.

6. The debates over the past months, and the election in general, exposes a number of inconsistencies about Americans.

We want to be rich and want politicians who will promise to make us richer. But we don't like our politicians themselves to be wealthy.
We want candidates to give straight answers and not dodge hard questions. But when they give specific answers to hard questions their answers will be ridiculed as dull or will be held against them.
We want our leaders to be super confident, super competent, and super intelligent. But we hate elites.
We want the president to be one of us and above us and unlike us at the same time.
We want someone to be an effective executive in the labyrinth of legislative, judicial, bureaucratic, military, and diplomatic tasks that face the modern President. But we also want him to be a complete outsider with no experience in how any of that works.
We want politicians unsullied by the real life tradeoffs, lobbyists, and interest groups of politics. But what they are like in the rest of life doesn't really concern us. They can compromise in everything but politics.

Politics is messy because it's government by messy people for messy people. But at least in a democracy the people have a say. No matter who you like or don't like this time around, the great thing about America is that we get the person most of us want.

And usually deserve.

P.S. There are a few things you don't need to leave in the comments because I understand the sentiments are already out there: 1) How Obama has ruined our country. 2) How this field of Republican candidates is terrible. 3) How Ron Paul embodies every virtue and none of the vices mentioned in this post. 4) How we don't always get the President we want because the electoral college is stupid. Just trying to rope in a few steers before they bolt out of the barn.

 

 

Nuance Is Necessary

Christians must be careful thinkers, especially those who teach other Christians how to think. Very few heresies were the result of self-understood snakes sneaking into the church. Most doctrinal mistakes, of which "heresy" is only the most serious category, come from well meaning people intent on safeguarding an important element of the faith.

Arianism and Docetism were two of the church's first and deadliest heresies. And yet, both were attempts to preserve the truth. Arianism wanted to defend the majesty of God. So Arius stopped short of affirming the full deity of Christ. Surely the glory of God would be compromised if we make the human Son equal with the divine Father. Docetists saw the problem moving in the opposite direction. They too wanted to defend the perfection of God. So they refused to affirm the full humanity of Christ. Surely the Son must only appear to be human. How else can we protect the full splendor of this divine Savior?

Both sides were both trying, at least in part, to protect the truth, but their human logic and philosophical assumptions prevented them from seeing the whole truth. They defended what was right by devaluing what wasn't wrong. This doesn't mean the right answer is always the mythical third way or some combination of all the options. But it does mean we ought to avoid the mistake of making the Bible fit our grid instead of allowing for complementary scriptural ideas to work side by side.

Almost every doctrinal error starts with the desire to affirm or to protect some important doctrine.  But without careful thinking and delicate nuances, working hard to avoid one mistake will simply lead us to another. Maybe even worse.

Monday Morning Humor

Cute. My kids like this. Hope yours do too.

HT: JJ

Sitting Is Good News

[image error]Hebrews 1 tells us that after making purification for sins, Jesus "sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs" (3-4).  It's striking imagery if you think about it.  Picture an attorney making his closing arguments to the jury, and then after a crescendo of rhetoric he says, "I rest my case" and sits back down next to his notes.  Or think of a mom who has had no time for herself all day.  She's made meals, cleaned the house, changed diapers, folded clothes, helped with homework, played in the backyard, raced to the grocery store, and now finally has the kids snoozing in their beds.  She walks wearily down the stairs and for the first time since she woke up 14 hours ago, she sits down.  Sitting down, in both examples, is more than an act of rest.  It is representative of completion.  All that was needful has been accomplished.

That's why it's thrilling to think that Jesus is seated at the right hand of God.  His work is finished.  He accomplished all that was needful for our salvation.  And having shown himself to be the victor over sin, death, and the devil, it is given to him to sit, not in any old place, but at the place of honor and exaltation at God's right hand.  All things have been placed under his feet (Eph. 1:20-22).  All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him (Matt. 28:18).