jason evans

My new friend, Mike sent me these ancient covers (how old are you, Mike!?) from The Wittenburg Door. It pokes fun of the term "evangelism" especially as it pertains to Southern California culture. And what this points out is how shallow and self-serving people can appear as they conduct so-called evangelism.

So, what is evangelism?

One definition says, "the preaching or promulgation of the gospel; the work of an evangelist." ... You may read that and ask, "What's promulgation?" Promulgation means, "to make known by open declaration; publish; proclaim formally or put into operation."

For many Christians, we feel quite comfortable with the St. Francis of Assissi quote: "Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary." We like this, because we like the idea of our deeds mattering as much if not more than our words. And quite often, for good reason. Christians have said terrible things under the guise of evangelism. But when I read the definition above and I can't get away from the clear "use of words" in doing evangelism.

Quite frankly, I think we should take the term back from those that have tarnished it.

This isn't to dissuade us from taking up Francis' approach. Evangelism might not have such a bad rep' if more people actually backed up their words with a lifestyle that reflected Jesus' message. But at the heart of it, I think most of us are afraid. We're afraid of talking about God in the public square. We'll talk in our church buildings and in our homes, but we have no idea how to talk about Jesus in any other environment.

But maybe the public square misses the point too. In his great book, The Great Giveaway, David Fitch believes that the home, sacred space and other "third spaces" are the appropriate places of evangelism.

"They speak to an evangelism that invites one in to see the message before one hears the message in words. They speak to an evangelism that is willing to save via subtle osmosis versus immediate rational persuasion. It is an evangelism that meets [those] who do not trust individual argument, slick presentation, or scientific proofs. They want to come, see, and be confronted by the reality of Jesus Christ. The practices of postmodern evangelism therefore must converge in the living breathing spaces of the local body of Christ."

Fitch is working on a couple assumptions (in my opinion):

• That we are in Christian community and willing to invite others into that community
• That we are willing to live a life directed by Scripture
• That we are willing to be patient and engage in the conversation (and relationship) long-term

But I also think we have to 'fess up to something many feel: being a Christian feels awkward.

I once shared a meal with a young Christian leader at a cafe and as our plates came to us, he began to eat. I asked, "Can I pray for our meal?" He stopped and said, "Sure." And I did. After I was done, he explained to me how he thought it was more missional to not pray in public. His central reason was that it made us more approachable if we didn't engage in such odd behavior in public.

I honestly don't care if people pray before a meal or not. It is often an empty, thoughtless action. I often don't. But I still find his "reason" to be more an excuse for his sense of awkwardness than missional posture. Here's the deal, the whole missional work–or evangelistic endeavor–is done so with the conviction that you are different. In other words, the very definition assumes that, as a Christian, you participate in something that others don't... but should.

Maybe part of this awkwardness stems from a misunderstanding of what evangelism is. In another great book, Evangelism After Christendom, Bryan Stone argues that, for many, evangelism is simply about the end results–or what he calls, "external goods." And that feels just plain weird.

"Once an external good (such as quantitative growth, power, and influence of the church or the number of conversions one is able to produce) has come to be substituted for the internal good of the practice, and precisely to the extent that the church becomes skilled in achieving those external goods, the church ceases to have any good reason to practice evangelism well or virtuously."

In other words, once the idea of evangelism is divorced from a way of life and simply about outcomes, it becomes pointless. In a sense, evangelism is rightly understood only as the whole of how the Christian lives... which includes how we talk about why we're Christians.

So, how do we talk about the gospel in normative ways? What has changed in our culture and in what ways can/should our promulgation of the gospel change in light of our context?

Note that I'm not asking if we should or shouldn't. I'm assuming we should. I'm interested in how folks think this is to be done appropriately.

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We Protestant Christians have a funny relationship with ancient texts. Our entire living and understanding of God hinges upon one ancient text, the Bible. Yet at the same time, many of us enjoy taking jabs at those who site “extra-biblical” ancient books. (Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I heard what you said about the Apocrypha.)

Tony Jones addresses one of those unfamiliar, ancient volumes, the Didache (pronounced, di-dah-kay), in his book, The Teaching of the Twelve. The Didache is one of the earliest writings we have of Christians after Pentecost. And as Jones explains, this little book was to be, “a handbook for those new to Christianity.” But what might a book written by and for Christians in the first couple of centuries be of value to Christians today?

Christianity in the West is within the throes of major shifts–amidst the Church and surrounding culture. Within the upheaval, many Christians find themselves agitated by all the hoopla that is church. Why must we do this? Why do we need that?

Simultaneously, there are those that have stripped away all that seems unnecessary, yet find themselves asking, “What now defines us and binds us? And how do we go about our life together?”

For all those unsettled and searching, Jones’ new book brings a fresh, yet age-old perspective to the conversation. As he says, we aren’t the first to find ourselves faced with such challenges:

“Of course, we’re not the first generation to quest after a raw, primitive version of the faith. At various stages over the past two millennia, Christians have questioned the traditions of “church” and “religion” in an effort to follow Jesus more authentically. ... And all along, a manual of primitive Christianity sat hidden, right in front of us.”

But the reader is not left with just the opinions of another Christian academic. As Jones writes, he walks alongside a Christian community in Minnesota (Cymbrogi) that has reflected on the Didache for some time. His commentary is paired with that of this rural house church and it’s truck-driving leader, Frank. The inclusion of a contemporary community attempting to interpret and apply this ancient book only makes Jones’ take even more approachable.

I found the Didache to be a refreshingly uncluttered yet challenging reflection. And I'm a bit dissapointed that I haven't been thoroughly exposed to the Didache until now. As Jones says in the first chapter, “The Didache is the most important book you’ve never heard of. ” This may be true for many of us. Today we live with countless options and opportunities, we are never short of information. In the midst of that, following Jesus can become quite complicated. The Teaching of the Twelve encourages us to get “back to the basics.” As Jones says in his Epilogue:

“Our brothers and sisters in the faith who lived in the Didache community call us away from the marginalia that consumes us today. They call us to simple community in which righteous living is taught and expected, sharing life is a way of life, visiting preachers are welcomed but not given any power in the community, baptism and Eucharist are practiced regularly, and Jesus’ return is expected and hoped for. Just a few activities, done well, shaped the Didache community.”

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Anticipating the arrival of the (un)King
This is my second in a series of Advent reflections this year. You can read the first one, along with some notes, here.

Second Sunday of Advent • Luke 3:1-6
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"

For Reflection
In first century Palestine, I’m pretty sure that hearing or reading this passage would bring Rome’s highway system to mind. The Roman empire is credited for it’s roads. It’s system of highways spanned across the empire. These road systems impacted everyone. It made goods and services more easily accessible. It exposed different cultures to each other. It gave Rome’s military force quick access to it’s many territories.

Could it be that God’s liberation was coming in the form of empire?

But those hearing or reading this passage in first century Palestine would also have remembered the prayers of their ancestors as well: that God would provide a clear and quick path for those dispersed among other nations to come home.

Was God going to free Israel from occupation; establish a self-governing Israel?

Still, others may have seen John’s (referenced above) ministry–calling people to change their thinking and living, to initiation into another way of life (personal repentance and baptism). For those people, maybe they heard this passage in a much more personal way.

If I don't ‘clean up my act’ will I be excluded from God’s plan?

Jesus’ entire life would be a confrontation with empire. Even as an infant, authorities tried to hunt him down. And his closest friends grew perturbed when it became clear that Jesus wasn’t going to establish a free Israel. So, it seems unlikely that the first two questions were what John the Baptist intended. Yet, I doubt the third is wholly accurate either. Jesus frequently associated with people that neither lived the right way or believed the right things.

The passage makes clear that liberation is coming. But do we know how to look for it? Am I the type of person that is so concerned with myself that I miss the kind of crowd Jesus’ is inviting into this liberation? Or am I the type of person that gets so swept up in the agenda of 'my people' that I miss the bigger picture? Or can I be so enamored with the advances of empires (whether commercial, political or digital) that I just don’t notice that something grander might be happening?

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Source: World Christian Encyclopedia

What does this map say to you about the church in the west?

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I'm intrigued by the themes in Douglas Rushkoff's new book, Life Inc. Initially, what caught my attention was his use of the term "radical abundance." It's a term I've heard/read (and used) to describe the intent of Jubilee and Sabbath principles in Scripture. But there's a term used in Douglas' material that grates me a bit: getting rich. Getting rich tends to imply scarcity: you take all you can of said resource–at the expense of another–because it is a limited resource. Check. Rushkoff explains scarcity well. But by ending the video clip (above) with those who get on this cluetrain will get rich, it appeals to something that doesn't seem to place as high a value on the commons. As my friend Lee put it, "Private wealth will always move into a paradigm of scarcity." Certainly, there are those that think this an appropriate view of biblical economics (see The Atlantic's recent cover article). But I'm not one of them. In the perspective from which I read Scripture, "abundance" doesn't imply excess for the few but enough for all. This is how I put it in my recent article on theOOZE.com:

In the book of Exodus we read the story of manna falling from heaven, providing the sustenance that everyone needed to survive in the wilderness. There was one problem: no preservatives. It didn't keep. You couldn't save it for tomorrow or the next day. God provided just enough for everyone, every day. In the New Testament, when Jesus teaches his friends to pray he draws upon this story when he tells them to ask God to give them their daily bread. The concept is that God provides enough for everyone. Not enough for some to hoard, or have more than others, but enough for all of us to have what we need... not necessarily what we want, but what we need. This concept runs all the way through Scripture.

All this to say, the motives to get rich don't seem to be helpful if we care about more than ourselves. But the future isn't here yet and in the meantime some of these ideals are just plain hard to live into. It's gonna require a kind of shrewdness and wisdom to balance both survival in the existing economy while attempting to live in to the emerging one. My ideals don't like hearing that, but I fear that those of us trying to establish models that function on a different set of values often teeter on too much utopianism.

... and all of that from one closing statement.

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As a way of reflecting on a passage, I often re-write it in my own terms and then ask myself some questions in order to see how it connects to my own life and community. As today is the first Sunday in Advent, I decided to type it out to share with the Hawthorn House folks tonight–with some additional thoughts. Here it is for you as well. Please share your thoughts.

Anticipating the arrival of the (un)King - Introduction
For Christians, the Christmas season is meant to be more than the consumer frenzy it is for most in Western culture. In fact, traditionally the season leading up to Christmas is called “Advent” which means to wait or anticipate. And what do Christians wait for? The arrival of our (un)King, Jesus Christ. The four weeks of Advent are about preparation. While waiting for our (un)King, we consider what it means to follow such a leader, to allow our lives to be directed by such a God.

Why do I call Jesus the (un)King? Because in all but title, he is unlike any human king. As you read the story of his arrival in the Gospels, you will find a very unkingly story; his first cradle a feeding trough, poor farm hands to announce his arrival and so on. As you read the Scripture passages over the next few weeks, I challenge you to reflect on what it means to follow this (un)King and in what ways that might transform you life during Advent in preparation for the coming year.

A Note
For some, the idea of Jesus as God feels like a stretch. People have often debated whether Jesus intended to say this–or if he even did. I’d ask you to set this worry aside. One thing that is clear in the Gospels is that Jesus said, “Follow me.” And he was called “Lord,” a name reserved for Caesar (or the king). Can you follow the way of Jesus? Can you consider him your leader? If you can, do that and let the rest take care of itself.

First Sunday of Advent • Luke 21:25-36
Jesus said:

“When you see great changes in the sky and land,
When governments grow anxious over these changes
When the people make shocking claims of what is to come
When the leaders of nations seem to lose their influence
Then know that a great Liberator, of both the people and and of God, is coming
And when this happens stand up and raise your heads
Your day is coming too

Just as when the leaves of trees turn color at the change of seasons, take these signs as a changing of seasons as well. Know that the dreams of God are coming near you; are closer to becoming reality. Your generation will take part in this dream-come-true.

So don’t get bogged down in the worries of life and don’t drown your worries with excess of any kind. Stay alert and ready to participate in the new way coming. Pray for strength to resist the challenges and capacity to stand with the coming Liberator.”

For Reflection
The passage of Luke is my own “remix.” I encourage you to read it in your Bible and consider putting it in your own terms as well. Don't worry about getting it right. Just write it how you would say it if explaining it to someone who had never read/heard it before. Feel free to read the passages before and after this one to help make sense of it.

When I read this passage, I feel I can relate–climate change, a shift in global power (from the west to the east)–it’s all right there. Sometimes these things can seem quite dismal. But I also see signs of hope; people around the globe doing wonderful things that imagine a different kind of world.  Do you feel you can relate to the “time” Jesus is talking about in these ways?

I love doing things with tangible results. But I'm realizing if I don't do the work of preparing myself, I don't often get the results I want. If I'm not physically fit, I can't reach the goals I desire. If I'm not emotionally and spiritually centered, I'll burn out early during the hard work of activism or mission. If you choose to follow the (un)King, what do you need to do to prepare yourself?

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