Chapter 3 Excerpts: "From Paper to Pavement: Believing & Being the Gospel"

"It is not about trying to do what Jesus would do. Rather, it has to do with thinking the way Jesus thinks in order to live the way Jesus lived. Dallas Willard said, 'Another important way of putting this is to say that I am learning from Jesus to live my life if he were I. I am not necessarily learning to do everything he did, but I am learning how to do everything I do in the manner that he did all that he did.'" (p. 103)

"The power of Scripture comes to life when we give ourselves to it's message in the real living of our lives, letting it analyze us even more than we analyze it." (p. 104)

"People are not convinced by teaching but by encounter. Doctrine follows as a way of explaining the impact of the encounter." (p. 107)

"We are praying, 'Lord, I don't want to just read this passage and leave unchanged by it. Let me not just feed myself from this daily bread but help me feed others with it also.'" (p. 110)

"Jesus didn't say, 'Come and study me.' He said, 'Come and follow me.'" (p. 111)

"Do you just believe in Jesus or do you also believe Jesus?" (p. 115)

The thrust of chapter 3 seems to be that orthopraxy and orthodoxy go hand in hand.

*How are you experiencing the paper hitting the pavement in and through your lives and communities?

And Who is My Neighbor?

"Our very lives are our messages, and we cannot take ourselves out of the equation of mission." -Alan Hirsch (p. 92)

My wife, Heidi, is so good at noticing people. Whether it's a server at a restaurant, the checker at the grocery store, or a neighbor, she's great at initiating meaningful and uplifting conversations. Oftentimes (especially in a fast-food drive thru), she goes out of her way to say "please" and "thank you," make eye contact, and intentionally leave the other person feeling better after she's gone than before she arrived.

On the other hand, if I'm willing to reflect honestly, I "quickly judge what a person is like, what their motives are, and if there is anything to gain by pursuing a deeper engagement with them." (p. 84) In Chapter 2 ("Meet the Extras: The Habit of Beholding Others") of Right Here, Right Now,

Lance Ford challenges my unfortunate ability to categorize and/or dismiss people based on my own perceptions. In fact, he poignantly summarizes and suggests, "As Jesus' ambassadors, seeking to have a right here, right now impact, it is imperative that we cultivate in ourselves the Jesus habit of moving past prejudiced

assessments of others we get via these initial impressions. We should work to develop a hearing ear and seeing eye to what the Lord is saying to us about another individual." (p. 86, emphasis mine)

Honestly, although the contexts vary, this section reminded me of the opening rhythms of Revelation: "Are your ears awake? Listen. Listen to the Wind Words, the Spirit blowing through the churches." Perhaps, the Wind Words are consistently blowing relationship opportunities with other people our way, but we're too "plugged in" or "tuned out" to hear.

*"What would happen if every place you were to go today, as far as it depends on you, peace [and the habit of beholding others] would be manifest?"

Identity: Starter's Pistol or Finish Line?

"Perhaps the greatest factor that hinders the Western church from missional engagement is that most Christians here do not identify themselves as fully empowered agents of the Kingdom of God." (p. 71)

Although this sentence does not appear until halfway through Chapter 1, "Putting the Extra in the Ordinary: Viewing Daily Life with a Missionary's Eye," it seems to contain the thrust of what Lance Ford exposes, analyzes, and proposes in the chapter. I'd rather hear from you, so I'll briefly break down his statement through the lens of Right Here, Right Now.

First, what about this "missional engagement?" What does that mean or look like? I'll let Alan tackle that one by saying, "A working definition of missional church is a community of God's people that defines itself by, and organizes its life around, its real purpose of being an agent of God's mission to the world. In other words, the church's true and authentic 'organizing principle' is mission. When the church is on mission, it is the true church. The church itself is not only the result of God's mission but is obligated and destined to extend it by whatever means possible. The mission of God flows directly through every believer and every community of faith that adheres to Jesus. To obstruct this is to block God's purposes in and through his people." (p. 66)

Second, in the initial statement, with precision, Ford cuts into our identity. As the people of God in the world, who are we? In Jason Coker's beachfront context he's noticed Christians identifying themselves with the following distinctives, "The strongest churches here extoll conservative evangelical tenets: the inerrancy of scripture; the submissiveness of women; the threat of evolution to the faith; God's divine blessing on capitalism and Western democracy; an understanding of salvation as the assurance of heaven after death for those who confess specific boundary-marking tenets." Is that who we are? In UnChristian, the research data describes us as anti-homosexual, hypocritical, and judgmental. Is that who we are?

On page 67 of Right Here, Right Now, Ford proclaims, "There is nothing remotely average about a human being who has been born again with the very resurrection life that caused Jesus to rise from the dead, to have the indwelling Holy Spirit as guide, to possess the mind of Christ for needed wisdom, and then to be commissioned by Jesus himself to go into the world with his redemptive agenda." As the people of God, who are we?

Perhaps the latter section of the opening sentence provides a starting point to answering the "who are we" question: "...fully empowered agents of the Kingdom of God." As much as I would like to expound on what I think that means and/or looks like, instead, I'm going to defer to a humbling quote in So Beautiful by Len Sweet that should move us all to close our mouths for prayerful waiting and listening: "God is 'up to something.' Do we know God well enough to know what he is 'up to?'"

*What's keeping the Western church from shedding attributes that inhibit us from living as "fully empowered agents of the Kingdom of God?" Should we shed, renew, or reset?

*Should context influence identity, or identity cut into context? Where does contextualization fit in this conversation?

*What is God up to where you are at, and how do you know?

Moving Alongside in a Round-A-Bout Way

Thank you for joining my in-process journey through Right Here, Right Now by Alan Hirsch and Lance Ford. Currently, I’m traveling through Alan’s “Briefing” chapter and stopping to engage each of his four suggested movements “needed on our behalf if we are indeed going to partake of the movement that Jesus started: move out (into missional engagement), move in (burrowing down into the culture), move alongside (engaging in genuine friendships and relational networks), and move from (challenging the dehumanizing and sinful aspects of our culture). (p. 35) Here, we looked into the move out (into missional engagement), and in the near future, Heidi Mashele will offer reflections from her own move in (burrowing down into the culture). Until then, I’m moving forward with the move alongside (engaging in genuine friendships and relational networks).

In an earlier post, I mentioned Alan’s challenging reorientation of the “Great Commission” text in Matthew 28:16-20. As we consider the move alongside, Hirsch describes his perspective by writing, “It is not simply about sharing the Good News with people through abstract concepts about Jesus and calling for a response—this is at best only part of the deal, at worst a shoddy witness and mere salesmanship. Friendships should be part of the equation. We are called to disciple the nations, which means we are committed to a long-term relationship with them that must surely include meaningful friendships, genuine involvement, and compassionate concern for a person’s best good.” (p.50) In other words, the “Great Commission” breathes, grows, and expands through discipling relationships that look “part cultural savvy, part organic friendship, and part hospitality.” (p. 51) With a descriptive and prophetic challenge, Hirsch summarizes, “Missional Christianity needs to get relationally savvy, and it should come naturally because we are called to love and discipleship.” (p. 52)

These comments read really well in a book about "Everyday Mission for Everyday People," but does anyone else out there feel like moving alongside through discipling relationships, in fact, comes very unnaturally? Here’s what I mean.

Recently, Bill Kinnon and David Fitch wrote helpful, succinct blog posts that seemed to thoughtfully deconstruct and (at least attempt to) reconstruct ecclesial leadership. In different ways, both posts point out what leadership has been while offering challenging possibilities for what leadership might become (or return to). Unbeknownst to either author (at least specifically), their reflections serve as stark challenges to the training, modeling, and leadership development I have experienced. Primarily, in terms of leadership, I’ve been molded to make organizational decisions, formally teach the Bible, and cast and protect vision.

While I accept the fact that decisions must be made, the Bible should be taught, and vision should be shared, modeled, and guarded, I’m not sure these components best support the scaffold of leadership.

If I don’t hold any inherent disagreement or disgust for these three expressions of leadership, what am I actually critiquing? Without articulating much in terms of new ideas (except stories from my own experiences), I am critiquing the way in which I have led in the past and sometimes find myself still doing today. Basically, my leadership attempts have originated out of a title and, additionally, the role represented by the title.

As a result, after many years of embracing and propagating this type of leadership, I have noticed a few of its harmful implications. First, when I’ve set myself up as the primary, role-based decision-maker, people (at least from my experiences) seem to take on a “just tell me what to do” posture. In other words, I (and usually a few close partners operating under similar leadership dynamics) do a majority of the thinking, wondering, wrestling, and deciding while most others seem to wait patiently to be told what to do. Although this assumes the guise of servanthood, I wonder if the posture creates unhealthy distinctions and distances among people. I don’t really have to give myself to others, because I’m not (deeply) involved in relationships as much as I’m doing what I’m told.

Second, leading from a title has given me too much of the wrong kind of power. I like attention, recognition, and others to look to me for answers (although I just critiqued it above...let me be honest, I've crafted and enhanced such dynamics, too), and I don’t need more help liking those things. For me, title leadership fed (and feeds) the ego…sometimes too much (as if a little is okay!), and I began thinking things like: “Look what I did,” “We’re such a great church,” and “You need to let me teach you a thing or two.”

I’ll never forget the Monday after we launched (language intended) our first Sunday worship service. 110 people showed up in the elementary school cafeteria, and that next day, I was on the phone with a close mentor exclaiming, “We did it! We planted a church!” I shudder to even recall, let alone share, the memory; however, it reveals the desires for power, recognition, and applause that were in my heart at the time (that surely have vacated by now…or not). Obviously, I’m still giving much of this over to the Lord (and these Right Here, Right Now reviews are helping); and therefore, I'm not laying my pride at the feet of title-oriented leadership alone; however, being “The Man” sure hasn’t helped.

Finally (there’s more, but…) leading from a title bred loneliness for me. Here’s a confusing reflection: if I’m going to be a good leader, I need to be a good follower, and when I was trying the hardest to be a good leader, I found (or took) very little time to be a good follower. Know what I’m sayin’? In the end, I was pretty sorry at both.

In our podcast conversation and in Right Here, Right Now, Alan awakens readers to a form of leadership that I’ve felt (and even experienced) for a long time, but wasn’t quite sure how to put into words: moral authority. When we walk with people, care for people, serve people, and sacrifice for people, it “comes naturally because we are called to love and discipleship.” (p. 52) Translated by me: a title doesn't necessarily result in leadership. Instead, leadership becomes an invitation offered by someone else...to move alongside, because of the struggles and successes of a shared and relational journey of discipleship.

Maybe I'm not the reader I pretend to be, but I've only re-read two books (that I can remember!): Following Jesus by NT Wright and In the Name of Jesus by Henri Nouwen. (Sorry Alan & Lance!) Although I'm certain that Following Jesus has much to contribute along the lines of this conversation, of the two books, In the Name of Jesus is the one I have in front of me tonight. While thumbing through it again, I was captivated and convicted by this gem: "Laying down your life means making your faith and doubt, hope and despair, joy and sadness, and courage and fear available to others as ways of getting in touch with the Lord of life." To the glory of God, may we move alongside whomever the Spirit draws into our laid-down lives with prayerful hope for another little Jesus.

*What about discipleship? Have such relationships come naturally for you? Share a story or two.

*If so, how do they originate? How do they take shape, grow, change, and twist as relationships normally do? If not?

*Where does Scripture reading and study, prayer, and your local community of Jesus fit into this conversation?

Briefing the Briefing

Right Here, Right Now creatively portrays an engaging shared writing style. Alan writes a “Briefing” chapter at the start, and bookends the work with a “Debriefing” chapter at the end. In between, Lance unpacks a three-fold outline containing the following components: “Putting Our Hearts Into It (Missional Paradigm),” “Wrapping Our Heads Around It (Missional Analysis),” and “Doing Something About it (Missional Action).” Lance’s contributions are, oftentimes, poignant, personal, and practical, and in the midst of his reflections, Alan chimes in with theology, philosophy, critique, and/or cultural analysis that make for a thoughtful and productive dialogue. In other words, for a non-fiction book, the writing style successfully draws the reader into the “story,” and allows for different perspectives and people to share time during the conversation.

Alan’s initial “Briefing” chapter glides the reader through four movements. To me, his two-fold thesis is as follows: 1) “I believe with all my heart that the future of Christianity in the West is somehow bound up with the idea of becoming a people movement again. Somehow and in some way, we need to loosen up and learn how to reactivate the massive potentials that lie rather dormant within Jesus’ people if we are going to make a difference to our world;” (p. 31) and therefore, 2) “We suggest that there are a number of movements needed on our behalf if we are indeed going to partake of the movement that Jesus started. We have to be willing to move out (into missional engagement), move in (burrowing down into the culture), move alongside (engaging in genuine friendships and relational networks, and move from (challenging the dehumanizing and sinful aspects of our culture).” (p. 35)

First, Hirsch unpacks the need for the people movement of Jesus to “move out (into missional engagement).” As a result, at the bottom of page 35, he challenges, “…it might not be far, but the obligation is on us to go to them, not them to us.” It seems simple enough, but I remain stunned at my own stubborn ability to slothfully wait for people to come to me (or come to us). And you know what? In response to that posture, very few come and even fewer stick around. I don’t have a color-coded Microsoft Excel spreadsheet; however, I feel confident in saying that most of the churches I am connected to or have history with are in decline. Those that are not in decline are thankful for already-Christian move-ins that are looking for their flavor of church. That’s a harsh reflection and I hesitate to type it, but our failure to admit it would be more terrifying.

In August 2010, Bret Wells and I shared a podcast conversation (Missional Monks Podcast) with Alan. During our chat, he challenged us to a re-reading of the “Great Commission.” According to Alan, we have misinterpreted Matthew 28:16-20 labeling it as an evangelistic text instead of a discipling text. There are several implications that result from such a misreading; however, the one most obvious to me right here, right now is the lack of urgency about going to my neighbors.

We are well connected in our neighborhood, and share many good surface relationships. However, because of our existing relationships in the neighborhood, we also have a good idea as to the struggles and burdens our neighbors are carrying, and what are we doing about any of that? The couple on the corner just moved in…doesn’t know anyone…and is adjusting to life with a new school, neighborhood, and town. The couple across the street continues to struggle in their relationship with each other. The other couple on the corner just had a baby, and the late nights aren’t ceasing any time soon. The couple around the corner battles consistent health problems and rebellious children. Let alone the folks in our hood that we don’t know!

We’ve got to prayerfully go to them. In spite of any and every taboo in neighborhood suburban culture, Jesus said, “Go;” and therefore, we go empowered by the Holy Spirit and trusting in Christ to take care of the rest. On page 37 after a four-suggestion outline entitled: “Learning the art of the small,” Hirsch insightfully asserts, “For most of us, what will be required to engage in missional Christianity is to simply reach out beyond our fears and ignorance of others, to overcome our middle-class penchant for safety, to take a risk and get involved in what God is already doing in our cities and neighborhoods. It’s not a science really, although as we will see, there are sometimes tricky cultural elements to deal with. It is all about love. Just read 1 John again to remind yourself of this.”

I’m one step ahead of you, Alan! Before reading Right Here, Right Now, I had recently cracked open 1 John. Consequently, while reading Right Here, Right Now, this passage from 1 John rang in my head, “…but whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, ‘I abide in him,’ ought to walk just as he (Jesus) walked.” Christ, have mercy. Help us to walk (into our neighborhoods, workplaces, and third places) just as you walked.

This “Briefing” chapter is almost 30 pages, and there are numerous good and needed treasures to be discovered within it. We’re nearing 11:30pm CST, and I’ll be up for work at 6:30am. As a result, I’ll blog again soon on the “move in (burrowing down into the culture). For now...

*What are your reactions to Alan's two-fold thesis? What implications do you anticipate or are you seeing in your context when acting upon this thesis?

*Share a story of a "move out into missional engagement," so that we might praise God for his work in and through you or your group of friends. (Click here for a great one.)

*Wrestle with Matthew 28.16-20 and 1 John. What else is the Lord saying to us through these texts that contributes to this conversation?

*How can I pray for you and your "move out into missional engagement" among neighbors or social groups in your context?

Peace.

A New Book Splashes into an Unfolding Story

“You are here because you know something. What you know you can’t explain but you feel it. You felt it your entire life. There is something wrong with the world but you don’t know what it is. But it’s there like a splinter in your mind.” – Morpheus

As a Gen-Xer that journeyed through both high school and college in the 1990s, I resonate greatly with Morpheus’ comments. Without realizing it at the time, in high school, two close friends invited me into discipling relationships. Almost over night, I transitioned from attending (language intended…I still remember sitting in the balcony with my homeboy…half paying attention) a 4,000-member mega-church from 30 miles away to a high level of participation in a church of 225 within my town.

This hometown church welcomed me into their community. In particular, 2-3 families loved, served, modeled, and mentored me closely as I shared life (meals, trips, family celebrations, and more) with them and their own teenage children.

As I left home for college, and married my high school sweetheart, again I was invited and discipled into the way of Jesus. A close friend from high school, initiated opportunities for my wife and me to serve families living in pockets of economic poverty in our college town. For the first time, I found myself glaring drug addiction, domestic abuse, prostitution, and cycles of poverty square in the face. What I saw left me shaken and clinging to faith.

After college, my wife and I moved to the suburbs to serve in a quaint, friendly church. Most of the folks were in the thick of a time wandering in “Worship Forms Forest” wondering if singing during Communion, raising hands, preaching in segments, closing our eyes while singing, or other expressions related to the Sunday morning worship service were permissible. In addition, the church recognized the changes underway in the city, and timidly considered how we might be affected by and participants in such changes.

As we jumped into this community of friends, nice people all of them, we (Heidi and I) began longing for the raw, evangelistic, and adventurous experiences and relationships from college. We loved the people of this church, but couldn’t shake the stirring…the feeling we had, perhaps our entire life, “there is something wrong with the world…” In his song, Consuming Fire, Tim Hughes described our feelings, “There must be more than this. Oh Breath of God, come breathe within. There must be more than this. Spirit of God, we wait for you.”

As a result, in February 2004, we set out into unchartered territory (at least for us) with a burning question deep in our hearts: “What if we engaged our local people, neighborhoods, and cultures like missionaries?” Without any exposure to things post-Christendom, post-Christian, demographics, or Pew Research/George Barna, still, this question occupied the front seat of our minds. Having not heard (yet) of Leslie Newbigin, David Bosch, Darrel Guder, Craig Van Gelder, Mike Frost, or Alan Hirsch, we trekked downward (a metaphor I’ll unpack in a future post) along a steep path into a deep valley, and we had no idea just how far below sea level the path would take us.

In some strange twisty-turny, topsy-turvy way, this brings me to Right Here, Right Now: Everyday Mission for Everyday People by Alan Hirsch and Lance Ford. By the grace of God and sacrificial friends gracious enough to share the journey, Heidi and I have come a long way in the past 7 years. We trudged deep, spent transformative time in the valley, and have recently begun the overwhelming but necessary climb up the other side, and books like Right Here, Right Now are helping and encouraging us and our communitas of friends to continue the climb (sorry to get all Miley Cyrus all the sudden!), with a hip-out-of-socket limp, but still climbing nonetheless.

Consequently, I think I’m writing a review(s) of this book. However, as you may have already gathered, I don’t think it’s going to read like a “regular book review.” If you have any interest in reading my posts, I’m going to assume you’re already familiar with Alan and Lance. You already know how to connect with them, and if you haven’t ordered Right Here, Right Now yet, it’s on your to-do list or you’ll borrow it from someone.

Therefore, I’m not going to plow through the book in a typical fashion of summarization. Instead, thorugh a series of blog posts, I’m going to interact with the book from my walk with the Lord, discipling relationships, communitas experiences with my peeps: Christ Journey, and our prayerful responses to God’s partnership invitations to be about his Kingdom work in and around Burleson, TX and our specific neighborhoods, schools, playgrounds, and eateries.

If Right Here, Right Now is really about Everyday Mission for Everyday People, then let’s wrestle with the book as a people seeking God together, swapping stories together, and going into all the world…together. If missional is just a word, then the risk of failure is very real. But, if missional describes a way of life…a life that glorifies God as, together, we grow in looking like Jesus in and through the power of the Holy Spirit for the sake of the world…that’s spicy, or maybe better construed: salty; and therefore, worth sharing.

Saddle up (I’m in Texas. What can I say?), and let’s go.

I Once Was Lost

Everts, Don & Doug Schaupp. I Once Was Lost: What Postmodern Skeptics Taught Us About Their Path to Jesus. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Press, 2008.

I Once was Lost is a brief book that investigates and proposes a threshold-oriented perspective of faith development among postmodern skeptics. The book is significant, because of the five thresholds it presents as the authors seek to reorient our viewpoints concerning the journey toward God for postmoderns. In this review, through the purviews of summary and critical questioning, I will overview the five thresholds covered in this book, and make connections with my North American church planting context.

I Once was Lost shares critical reflection concerning the postmodern journey into Christianity. Initially, the authors analyze their experiences in college campus ministries seeking to learn from their students and friends. As they consider what has happened and what is happening in regards to their ministry contexts, the authors arrive at two formative conclusions. Everts and Schaupp remark, “The first lesson [postmoderns] have taught us about the path to faith is that it is, in the end, mysterious. Again and again, we found ourselves marveling at transformations that we never would have anticipated and shaking our heads in frustration at those who seemed near to faith but never got there.” (18) The authors allow themselves to wrestle with the implications, excitements, and frustrations of the mysterious faith-building pathways traveled by postmoderns. In the end, they decide that mystery leads to liberty. Mystery, although unpredictable and undefinable, presents much needed relief for church planters. With firmness, Everett and Schaupp conclude, “We cannot create life. It is impossible for us to predict why some of our friends will choose Jesus and why others just won’t. We don’t know how to change hearts…The path to faith is mysterious. To admit that is liberation. The monkey is off our back, and onto God’s back, where it belongs.” (19) In I Once was Lost, the pathways of faith development among postmoderns are celebrated as mysterious.
Second, I Once was Lost, reveals the organic nature of postmodern faith pathways. The authors share, “The second lesson this group of new believers has shown us is that the postmodern path to faith is organic.” (20) By referring to Jesus’ parable in Mark 4:26-29, the authors focus intently on verses 28-29: “All by itself the soil produces grain–first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come.” According to Everett and Schaupp, “Heeding this lesson, we are able to recognize the different stages of growth and seek to love our non-Christian friends wisely and sensitively, adjusting to where they are in their growth.” (21) Instead of seeking an either/or pathway to faith, I Once was Lost advocates an organic, season-oriented approach.

After constructing the mystery and organic frameworks for postmodern faith development, the authors dive into their five thresholds proposal. The first threshold involves a movement from distrust to trust. Poignantly, the authors reveal the challenging context for today’s church, “In another day and age, God, religion, and church enjoyed the general respect of the culture. Not today. Religion is suspect, church is weird, and Christians are hypocrites. Distrust has become the norm. People are tired of the ‘sales tactics’ often employed by Christians and are offended by our bait-and-switch attempts at introducing them to Jesus. In the past, the occupation of evangelist was viewed as a respectable profession, even by secular society. Today, evangelist has fallen to the very bottom of the pit, among the most distrusted occupations.” (31) Furthermore, Everett and Schaupp share from their own experiences, “When people first find out we are Christians, we often literally see them shift from relaxed to rigid, from warm to suspicious.” (31) In an interesting twist to conventional evangelical thinking, the authors muse, “When trust has not yet been established, lostness feels like wise skepticism and right thinking. If Christians are fanatical and narrow-minded, keeping one’s distance seems like the smartest posture to take toward us…Until this framework of distrust is shifted, growth is nearly impossible.” (32) From there, the authors share “Five Knee-Jerk Reactions to Distrust”: Defend, Bruise, Avoid, Judge, and Argue; however, they also propose “Five Kingdom Habits to Build Trust”: Pray, Learn, Bond, Affirm, and Welcome. Perhaps, the opportunity to operate in a climate of distrust could have a positive impact on the church. With encouragement, Everett and Schaupp suggest, “We need to learn to be unfazed by distrust. We are in an age of distrust, so instead of being surprised and reactionary when our coworkers or neighbors don’t trust us, we need to learn how to respond kindly and quickly begin the normal, basic and foundational investment of trust-building.” (37) How are you seeing and experiencing the climate of distrust referred to in I Once was Lost? In what ways are you seeking to build trust with a non-Christian friend?

In I Once was Lost, the second threshold of postmodern faith development involves moving from complacency to curiosity. The authors describe such a shift in the following manner: “To go from being complacent about spiritual things to being intrigued is a natural process. Our souls and our minds are built by God to be curious, to ask questions until we have landed upon satisfying answers. So this move from complacent to curious isn’t easy, but it taps into a desire and need that is wired into all people.” (51-52) Everett and Schaupp summarize this movement in three distinct stages: 1) Awareness: “Awareness of more options, more paths in life, is often the first baby step out of complacency. As people hear about Jesus, their old answers and old pictures of God slowly become antiquated and inadequate,” 2) Engagement: “Engaging with a real Christian, becoming friends with a Christian and taking time to read through the life of Jesus were concrete actions that caused [the author’s friend’s] curiosity to grow stronger over time,” and 3) Exchange: “This is an intense form of curiosity that means being so curious that you want to exchange ideas, ask questions and offer your own opinions.” (52-53) After describing the movement from complacency to curiosity, the authors provide three ideas for provoking curiosity among non-Christian friends: 1) encourage questions, 2) use parables, and 3) live curiously. (54-58) What responses have you received from your non-Christian friends when you have encouraged questions, shared stories, or lived in curious ways? How are you living curiously? What additional suggestions for provoking curiosity would you make?

The third threshold presented in I Once was Lost involves an openness to change. At this point in their journey, the postmodern skeptic seriously considers the changes necessary to embrace life with Christ. As we all know and experience, this can be quite challenging. Everett and Schaupp state, “Out of all five thresholds, becoming genuinely open to change is often the most difficult to overcome. Change is beautiful and horrific, after all. (Even for postmodern folks who proudly wave a banner of ‘openness,’ being open to real change is a tough thing.)” (69) At this point, the call to followers of Jesus includes: patience, enduring prayer, and a reminder of the mysterious and organic frameworks of postmodern journeys toward faith. The authors reiterate, “In the end it is only God’s Spirit that is able to overcome the human hesitancy, fear of pain and spiritual enemies that are against someone at threshold three. But when God does this, when he uses our patience and our prayers and our faithfulness to bring someone to a place of being open to change, it is a wonder.” (82) Are you sharing a journey of faith development with someone who has recently crossed into this threshold? Describe your shared journey at this point.

After an openness to change takes shape, Everett and Schaupp propose that postmoderns truly become seekers. They describe the journey across this threshold in the following vignette: “Those who have recently traveled the path to faith tell us that after trusting a Christian, becoming curious about Jesus and finally being open to change in their life, they still weren’t necessarily wanting to come to conclusions. For each of them there was another shift, a fourth threshold, to come: they needed to lean into the journey they were on and decide to purposefully seek final answers, a resolution. They needed to become seekers.” (85-86) Furthermore, the authors highlight this threshold, “There’s a subtle but important difference between someone who is sort of meandering toward God and someone who is purposefully seeking out and exploring Jesus. When someone is truly seeking, there is an urgency and purpose to their searching.” (86) From there, the authors suggest three major trends among seekers: 1) Seekers seek Jesus, not just God, 2) Seekers count the costs, and 3) Seekers spend time with Christians. (87) However, once someone shifts from an openness to change to a full quest after Christ, how are we to help? Everett and Schaupp share “three tangible ways [we] could starting living the kingdom in front of a friend who may need help becoming a seeker rather than a meanderer: 1) Show them how to build their lives on Jesus’ words, 2) Open up your prayer life to them, and 3) Provide satisfying answers to their initial questions.” (89-90) The authors conclude their description of this threshold by saying, “If the Spirit of God works in the concrete circumstances of someone’s life and in the profound depths of their soul, they can cross threshold four: moving from meandering toward Jesus to seeking some final conclusions. And once someone is seeking, only God knows where it might lead.” (101) What would you challenge about this threshold? What “tangible ways [of] living the kingdom in front of a friend” would you add?

Finally, Everett and Schaupp share a strong call to their postmodern friends to enter the Kingdom of God, and this marks the final threshold in their proposal. Initially, the authors remark, “While a truly open-ended, pressure-free process is most needed around thresholds two and three, it isn’t as helpful here at threshold five. Letting people just slide casually and vaguely across the line sounds very postmodern-sensitive, but with such a laissez-faire approach we keep people from knowing there is even a line to cross. And we don’t help them move from being lost to being redeemed.” (107) Then, after building a case for such urgency in Luke 15, the authors challenge, “Our friends stuck at threshold five need a concise summary of what Jesus and his kingdom are all about. They deserve to know, in a nutshell, what Jesus calls people to and what it means to become one of his.” (111) How would you challenge this urgent approach? How are you calling people into the Kingdom of God?

I Once was Lost seems weak on involving not-yet and new followers of Jesus in mission, and promotes an event-driven, programmatic evangelistic methodology. For the sake of time and space, I have chosen to leave out in-depth critiques of these two characteristics of the book. However, as we continue prayerfully engaging and living life with non-Christians, Christ Journey participants have found the five threshold framework significant in helping start relationships, discern relationships, and invite friends into the Kingdom. Although the ideas in the book do not originate from missional contexts, the work can provide benefit to anyone seeking to rub shoulders with those who will one day proclaim: “I once was lost.”

Fearless

The latest book from Max Lucado hits bookstores today. Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear tackles that which “has taken a hundred-year lease on the building next door and set up shop.” (5) Fear. As Lucado points out, “We fear being sued, finishing last, going broke; we fear the mole on the back, the new kid on the block, the sound of the clock as it ticks us closer to the grave.” (5) Fearless leads us into our fears by helping us admit their existence, captivating and inviting narratives, and an intense focus on Jesus. I would highly recommend the book to anyone looking for a handle on fear.

First, in Fearless, Lucado helps us stare our fears in the face. In the fifteen chapters, we encounter the following fears: insignificance, disappointing God, health, kids, challenges, worst-case scenarios, violence, death, what’s next, God’s absence, global catastrophes, and God getting out of our boxes. Whether I thought I struggled with the specific fear mentioned in a chapter or not, there was something in each chapter that helped me recognize ways in which I am susceptible to fear that I did not realize. I appreciated Lucado’s inclusion of fears specific to individuals or individual families and fears on national or global scales. He understands the global and local characteristics of the 21st century. Fearless honestly unveils a wide spectrum of fears, and does not allow the reader to sidestep any of them.

Second, in typical Max Lucado style, Fearless shares powerful narratives that allow readers to laugh, cry, contemplate, anticipate, and join the storyline of the book. Whether it is the opening story of his brother’s death, the twist-at-the-end story of the conversion of “Jack,” or the story of the woman who did not believe the man standing in front of her was Max Lucado, each narrative presents an opportunity for the reader to identify with the characters, consider their own reactions to the plot, and enter into a readiness to deal with the specific fear being presented. Lucado’s books always offer inviting stories, and Fearless does not disappoint.

Third, Fearless moves effectively from welcoming narratives to biblical narratives often involving Jesus and his disciples. In each biblical narrative presented, Jesus is the star of the story, and Lucado reveals how he confronts and overcomes any and all forms of fear. We experience Christ walking on water, feeding thousands, calming storms, and transfiguring on Mount Hermon. Lucado challenges and encourages readers by exposing the disciples’ fears and Jesus’ reassurances. Also, on several occasions, in the midst of these biblical narratives, Lucado provides bullet lists of Scriptures that readers might want to post on their bathroom mirrors or car dashboards. The biblical narratives lead readers to Jesus, the One who reassures us: “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me.”

Like a light shining into the darkness of a world filled with terror threats, financial collapses, and unsightly doctor’s reports, through honesty, stories, and an eye toward Christ, Fearless empowers readers to fear less. The book is a quick, piercing read that I highly recommend.

Read and Share Toddler Bible

A month ago, my friend Steve told me about the Thomas Nelson Book Review Bloggers opportunity. After signing up, my first book choice was the Read and Share Toddler Bible by Gwen Ellis. At first, that may seem like an odd selection; however, I am Dad to an 8-year old, 2-year old, and an 11-day old. In addition, I am a participant in a 4-year old church plant with several young couples who have young children. Consequently, I expect to turn the pages of the Read and Share Toddler Bible quite often. In this review, I will summarize the strengths and limitations of the Toddler Bible and provide additional “likes and suggestions” at the end.

There are many strengths to the Read and Share Toddler Bible. First, Gwen Ellis’ active writing style is a dramatic strength of the work. For example, in “Noah and the Big Boat,” Ellis tells the story in the following manner, “[Noah] found some boards and his saw. Then Noah went to work. Pound! Pound! Saw! Saw!...Crrrrrreak! Crrrrrreak! God shut the door of the boat. It started to rain. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The wind blew. Oooo! Ooooo!...” (25 & 29) When reading aloud to my 2-year old son, he enjoys chiming in with the story whenever an action word comes along. Second, the illustrations throughout the book are just as inviting as the active writing style. We live in a time where images are quickly taking the place of words as conveyors of truth, meaning, and information. Therefore, especially in a toddler Bible, the images must be large, sharp, detailed, colorful, and powerful tellers of the story. Steve Smallman does all of that and more. Furthermore, he creatively includes small animals like rabbits and birds in many of the pictures that draw the attention of toddlers and add a nice touch to the stories. Additional strengths to the Read and Share Toddler Bible are the parent/child activities at the conclusion of each story. They provide opportunities for reflection, conversation, and action involving both parent and child. Finally, I appreciate the inclusion of the Scripture references for the Bible stories. Many of the parents that I work with or am reaching out to through our church plant do not know most of the Bible stories that many who have grown up in church have been exposed to time and again. As a result, including the Scripture references to the stories becomes extremely important, because I am hopeful that as parents are reading these 40 stories to their children, they are also cracking open their “not-so-toddler” Bibles to engage the stories by themselves or with others. In my opinion, the Read and Share Toddler Bible does well with all of the above.

The Read and Share Toddler Bible has limitations as well. First, to me, the overall vibe of the work seems heavily centered on the toddler. If I were you, at this point I would be shaking my head at the computer screen saying, “Isn’t the book a toddler Bible?” My response here is one of understanding; however, after finishing the book, I felt a tension revealed in the following question: How do we convey identity, worth, the goodness of God, security with God, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and inclusion to toddlers while also portraying a life with God to be lived for the sake of others? For example, minus the “Jesus Loves You” ending, the grand crescendo of the book is the story entitled “Jesus Goes to Heaven.” In my opinion, the story misses the point by concluding with the following section, “We are still waiting for our Best Friend, Jesus, to come back. He will come, and when He does, we will be with Him forever!” Is it too far-fetched to think that a toddler may respond with the following question: “If Jesus is my best friend, why isn’t he here with me?” What if the finale story of the book were a call to mission? Especially when utilizing the Acts 1:6-11 text, what if we introduced and called our toddlers and their mommies and daddies to a Spirit-empowered life of mission where we don’t sit around and “imagine heaven,” but we participate as little Christs with God breaking into the hear and now with glimpses of heaven? My toddler doesn’t need any help viewing the world as all about him. Instead, he needs his parents, grandparents, siblings, church, friends, and Bible to open his eyes to others in need, pain, brokenness, poverty, and sorrow. Throughout the Read and Share Toddler Bible, I did not experience a call to live with God for the sake of others. Second, the two garden stories miss the point also. Adam and Eve’s waywardness in the Garden is much more than a “no-no.” What if the story was framed less as a “no-no,” and more as a rejection of relationship with God? Toddlers can understand rejection and broken relationships, and this seems to be the bigger theme taking shape in the story. Why does the “Adam and Eve and the Sneaky Snake” story end with “Out you go...You can’t live in the garden anymore” (21) instead of a retelling of Genesis 3:21? At this point in the Story, community between God and humans, humans and humans, and humans and creation have been severed; however, God does not relent in his pursuit of relationship with humanity. Finally, I felt like the Toddler Bible struggled in the area of incarnation. Okay, I’m not advocating that the word “incarnation” should have been used in the work; however, tell my toddler a little more about who Jesus is. For example, in “Sleepy Sleepy Shepherds,” the story concludes, “There in the straw is a tiny, wee one. It is the Savior. It is God’s Baby Son.” What does “Savior” and “God’s Baby Son” mean? Are there ways of explaining “Messiah-Jesus” to toddlers? This leads me to a subset of this limitation: the cross seemed to be an add-on to the “Jesus and His Donkey” story. On pages 174-175, the people are celebrating Jesus and on page 176, all of a sudden, “Jesus had something important to do.” This seems confusing. My toddler son and I have had conversations about Jesus’ death and resurrection, and I would have preferred a more prominent telling of the story. There are a few limitations to the Read and Share Toddler Bible.

The Read and Share Toddler Bible was an eye-catcher for me. In our church plant, at least one woman has been pregnant at any given time since April 2005. As you can see, we have toddlers everywhere! In addition, I have a toddler of my own, an 8-year old, and a newborn. Therefore, I was eager to read, reflect upon, and review the Toddler Bible. I have not gone through such a process with a toddler Bible before, and I must say that it was quite enjoyable. Throughout this process, my 8-year old read the Read and Share Toddler Bible from cover to cover as well, and we have been reading through it on most nights with all of our kids. As with any book, there are strengths and limitations to the Toddler Bible; however, I would recommend it for use in our church and home. Below, I have includes additional “likes and suggestions,” and a review-oriented comment from my 8-year old.

Additional Likes
*The Noah stories were my favorites.

*The Jericho and shepherd David stories were fun as well.

*Color-coding the page numbers was creative.

*The “Word to Parents” was thoughtful and inciteful as to Gwen Ellis' ideas in writing the stories.

Suggestions
*Include a “God said that it was good” comment in the “In the Beginning” story.

*Leave the “Out of the Garden” story out.

*“Moses Leads the People” should include the people in slavery and crying out to God for deliverance.

*What about share your fish sticks with your neighbors and/or friends as an addition to the parent/child activity at the end of “A Little Boy with a Lunch?”

*Tell us more about Zacchaeus.

My 8-year old was most impressed by the colorful story headings and the illustrations.

Thomas Nelson's Product Details
Format: Hardcover w/DVD

Trim Size: 6.10 x 7.10 x 0.9

Page Count: 192

Retail Price: $14.99

ISBN-10: 140031464X

ISBN-13: 978-1400314645

Have you read this book? Are you considering a read of this book? Are you interested in sparking a discussion of the themes, points, critiques, and challenges of this book? Do you have questions or counterpoints of assertions from this book? Post a comment and join the conversation.

Beyond Belief

Hamilton, Josh. Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back. New York, NY: Faith Words, 2008.

Over the past two years, my family and I have become strong fans of the Texas Rangers. Having lived in the DFW Metroplex since 1982, I have always followed (sometimes up-close and sometimes from a distance) the Rangers; however, recently the youth, potential, homerun power, pitching (Did I just type that?), and ticket specials of the team have prompted loyalty from my household. As a result, we have stumbled upon several opportunities to utilize free tickets, and have taken advantage of numerous specials including $10 Friday night fireworks tickets, Free Kids Tuesday nights, and most recently, six tickets for the price of one. We’ve probably been to 10-15 games over the past two years.

During this time, we got to know Josh Hamilton as a fantastic 3-hole hitter and centerfielder. Last year, he had 95 RBIs by the All-Star break, and even though he has struggled to stay healthy and productive this year, the last game I went to with my daughter, he crushed a huge homerun to right field. There is no doubt that Hamilton is my kids' favorite player, and as a result of his looks, my wife's favorite player, too. It was after watching Josh Hamilton the baseball player that we were introduced to his amazing, inspiring, and in-process story. After hearing bits and pieces, I purchased Beyond Belief and read the entire book last Friday.

On the back cover, the book is classified as a “Sports/Memoir,” and that’s a good description of the style and content of the work. Beyond Belief is written by Josh Hamilton and Tim Keown from ESPN The Magazine, and the significance of the book can be found in its narrative structure, authenticity, and insider access to the world of professional baseball. In this review, I will summarize the importance of these three categories as revealed in Beyond Belief.

First, the narrative structure of the book makes for a compelling read. This is the story of Josh Hamilton’s life up to this point, and as a result, it’s easy for the reader to accept the invitation to enter into the narrative. Story drives the world we live in. From our favorite television shows to our employment histories to the current school year experiences of our children, stories that reveal the colorful pages of our lives are taking place all around us. Stories shape the way we view, interact with, and contribute to the world. Typically, in stories, we ultimately learn about ourselves, because we identify with the plight of a prominent character. As a result, we join with them in comparing their experiences with our own. With Beyond Belief, the storytelling quality of the book allows the reader to do just that. In the Epilogue, Hamilton recounts a time when a fan brought his sister to a ballgame in the hopes of having Hamilton say words of encouragement to her in the hopes of stopping her drug abuse. Hamilton reflects on the experience by saying, “There are so many people out there searching. So many people who struggle and want to do better but can’t find the strength. So many confused, sad, desperate people who need the right kind of guidance to change their lives. People just like me.” (256) Many of the themes discussed in the book: family, work ethic, parenting, pressure, jobs, relationships, temptations, faith, boundaries, forgiveness, repentance, transgressions, on-going transformation are all aspects of life that each of us encounter almost everyday, and Hamilton’s ability to share his life in a narrative fashion offers opportunities for others to join the story by reflecting on these issues in their own lives.

Along with sharing his story, Hamilton and Keown write with a high level of authenticity. Even today, as news of his January 2009 relapse surfaces, Hamilton does not shy away from responsibility or confession, and Beyond Belief continues the precedent. Whether it was the time as a 7-year old that he hit a homerun off a 12-year old, the time he relinquished his wife’s wedding ring as collateral for drugs, the time he passed out on the floor of Murd, Leon, and Lester’s trailer, the time he snorted an 8th of an ounce of cocaine all at once, the time he hit a 549 ft home run, or the personal emotions associated with Ian Kinsler, Michael Young, and Hank Blalock showing up at his first Texas Rangers’ press conference, Hamilton holds back little in an effort to authentically share his struggles and successes. As C.J. Wilson, Texas Rangers’ relief pitcher, tweeted today, “I’ll say this only once about Josh so listen up- he’s a bigger man than anyone I know. Who else can admit EVERY mistake they’ve ever made?”

Finally, Beyond Belief is worth your time, because of the insider access into the world of professional baseball offered throughout the book. Whether it’s a batting practice homerun contest with Jose Canseco his rookie year, his travels through the minor leagues, his conversation with the Tampa Bay Devil Rays’ General Manager in regards to his reinstatement, or his feelings during the 2008 Home Run Derby in the old Yankee Stadium, getting a behind-the-scenes look at life in Major League Baseball through the eyes of Josh Hamilton is a rare and fascinating opportunity.

Beyond Belief is a quick and worthwhile read for anyone interested in baseball, Josh Hamilton, or life in rural North Carolina. In addition, if you are even partially impacted by drug abuse, the book is a must. Hamilton attributes his new life, sobriety, and professional platform to Jesus Christ; and perhaps, through Beyond Belief, you might encounter Him, too. The book is significant because it is in story form, authentic, and a first-person account of life in and around professional baseball. I would recommend reading Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back as a great way to spend a couple hours.

Amazon.com's Product Details
Hardcover: 272 pages
Publisher: FaithWords (October 13, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1599951614
ISBN-13: 978-1599951614
Product Dimensions: 9.1 x 5.9 x 1 inches
Shipping Weight: 1 pound

Have you read this book? Are you considering a read of this book? Are you interested in sparking a discussion of the themes, points, critiques, and challenges of this book? Do you have questions or counterpoints of assertions from this book? Post a comment and join the conversation.

Next, I will review Thomas Nelson Publisher's Read and Share Toddler Bible by Gwen Ellis with illustrations by Steve Smallman as part of my participation in this opportunity.

Evangelism after Christendom

Stone, Bryan. Evangelism After Christendom. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Brazos Press, 2007.

A Review of Evangelism after Christendom: The Theology and Practice of Christian Witness by Bryan Stone

Evangelism after Christendom is a comprehensive treatment of the definitions, histories, contexts, subversions, environments, and virtues that shape, nurture, and challenge evangelistic practice. The book is significant, because of its thorough review of appropriate literature, movement from theology to practice, and emphasis on the “evangelizing community” and the virtues that originate within this community. Throughout this review, through the purview of reflective critique and agreement, I will summarize the basic arguments of the book and apply these arguments to my context of North American church planting.

Initially, Evangelism after Christendom serves as a prophetic call to the church to reclaim its true and intended evangelistic identity. In the book’s introduction, author Bryan Stone states, “The thesis of this book is that the most evangelistic thing the church can do today is to be the church—” (15) Moreover, he provides a specific framework for how this might take shape. Stone continues, “…to be formed imaginatively by the Holy Spirit through core practices such as worship, forgiveness, hospitality, and economic sharing into a distinctive people in the world, a new social option, the body of Christ.” (15) For Stone, this is the nature of evangelism.
Furthermore, these descriptions serve to construct the framework of what Stone, later in the book, frequently refers to as the ecclesia. However, Stone’s attention toward ecclesia begins with a theological foundation of evangelism as practice. Stone uses the work of Alasdair MacIntyre to purport, “A practice is especially important in MacIntyre’s overall argument, for it provides the context in which the identity of a tradition is constituted, the narrative meaning of human life is enacted, and the character, virtues, and skills for journeying toward that meaning are displayed and refined.” (30) However, as he builds the argument, Stone succinctly asks, “Is evangelism a practice? To the extent that it may be so understood, it likewise employs a number of varying skills, arts, techniques, and activities. But if evangelism is a practice, it is never reducible to any of these…” (31) Next, Stone clarifies his reference to MacIntyre by involving James McClendon’s description of a “game.” I found this metaphor to be quite helpful in describing evangelism as practice. Stone unpacks evangelistic practice through the lens of McClendon’s “four necessary elements to a game: (a) an end or goal, (b) the means to that end, (c) the rules by which the game is played, and (d) the proper attitude in playing.” (32) Finally, throughout the rest of the book, Stone structures his assertion of evangelism as practice upon the pillars of narrative, social context, and virtue.

In Evangelism after Christendom, Bryan Stone assembles a case for evangelism taking place in a narrative context. In other words, as Stone articulates, “This story [the story of the people of God], with its various characters, subplots, twists, turns, and surprises, literally ‘makes sense’ out of the Christian life by depicting its beginning, way, and end and thereby orienting us on a journey.” (55) At this point, however, I would take slight exception with Stone’s description. Perhaps, it is not the story of the people of God, but instead, the story of the God of the people. As Gary Holloway and Earl Lavender state in their book, Living God’s Love: An Invitation to Christian Spirituality, “…the main character in my autobiography is not me, but God.” Nevertheless, during this portion of the book, with outstanding thoroughness and meaning, Stone walks the reader through the stories of Israel, Jesus, and the early church. As an underlying form of foreshadowing, through his articulation of “the story of the people of God,” Stone lays the foundations for his later call to ecclesia.

Before Stone arrives at his call to ecclesia, his pilgrimage winds through potential rival narratives of “the story of the people of God.” For the purposes of his book, he tells the story of two main rivals: “The Constantinian Story” and “The Story of Modernity.” For me, this was a meaningful portion of the book, because of the immediate application to my context of North American church planting. I find myself as a resident in a church culture that still bears many marks of Christendom, and a suburban culture that reflects the categories of secularization, religious pluralism, and consumerism as described by Stone. In response to these cultural frameworks, Stone asserts, "Only insofar as the church is itself a visible communion, a material culture, a form of life, an embodied social imagination, a public, a politics and economics in its own right, will it pose a threat to the individualization and subsequent massification of persons inherent in the modern invention of sociality and its institutional offspring." (170) With experience to reflect upon, I concur with Stone’s assessment. Furthermore, for Stone, the church embodies this description by communally subversive means choosing not to opt into a dominate culture of individualism, marketing, and choice. In rebuttal to the dominate culture, Stone writes, “The question we must ask is whether the church is the eschatological sign and living demonstration that the end of time has come or whether it is to be viewed in strictly functional terms…” (168) Throughout this section of the book, Stone remains true to his prophetic calling toward the church to be the church.

Next, as a specific element within Stone’s calling toward the church to be the church, he launches a section of the book in which he unpacks the ecclesia as witness and invitation. First of all, the ecclesia serves as a witness to the reign of God. In support of this point, Stone says, “The new creation to which evangelism witnesses is God’s peaceable reign—a work of prophetic imagination that both demands and makes possible a distinctive reordering of loyalties, priorities, and relationships and of the way power and resources are shared and distributed.” (177) For me, this prophetic call, or maybe better stated, a prophetic community living out this way of life (“God’s peaceable reign”), is much needed in my suburban context. Ironically, for Stone, the second service of ecclesia involves invitation. As Stone reveals, “The practice of evangelism announces and embodies this imaginary even as it seeks to invite and initiate persons into it through a fully material formation into a people, a Spirit-created social option in space and time.” (177) Stone continues to describe witness and invitation in terms of cruciform politics and economics. In other words, his suggestions for evangelism after Christendom find root in the practices of ecclesia instead of the propositional truth and scientific methods of modernity. As a result, conversion must be viewed in terms of process or being continually converted. In a conversation about the measurability of evangelism, Stone concludes, “If evangelism can be ‘measured’ at all, perhaps it can best be measured by how well a community prepares a place at its table for those who are not there yet, for those who have not even heard, much less heeded, its invitation.” (274) In Evangelism after Christendom, the ecclesia embodies and invites people into “God’s peaceable reign.”

Finally, in what, in my opinion, is actually a discussion about spiritual formation, the author digs into the character of the evangelist who would proclaim (or live out) such a life (“God’s peaceable reign”) in ecclesia. Basically, Stone summarizes the “martyrdom and virtue” of the evangelist in the following four characteristics: presence, patience, courage, and humility. I found the “churchwomen,” Oscar Romero, and the Common Cathedral to be prophetic exemplars of Stone’s description of the evangelist, and consequently, stories saturated with conviction. This portion of the book left me introspective as to how I, through the power of the Holy Spirit, might exhibit such virtues in my church planting context. These pages of Evangelism after Christendom and my Tuesday night covenant group’s study through Discipleship Essentials by Greg Ogden simultaneously ushered me into Jesus’ words in Luke 9.23-24: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” As evangelists who are also participants in ecclesia may we “come after” Jesus with such Spirit-fueled intensity that our evangelistic practice spreads through the virtues of presence, patience, courage, and humility.

Evangelism after Christendom provides an extensive theological framework for discussion concerning evangelism in a post-Christendom context. I would recommend it as a worthy, cost-effective investment for any church leader discerning God’s prophetic call toward the engagement of such a post-Christendom culture with the story of God or desiring a full description of evangelistic practice. Bryan Stone’s treatment of practice, narrative, history, ecclesia, and virtue contribute thorough scholarship, thoughtful critiques, and meaningful applications in the context of any discussion concerning evangelism. Teleologically speaking, Stone set a course to prophetically challenge the church to be the church, and in Evangelism after Christendom, he remains true to this end.

Amazon.com's Product Details
Paperback: 336 pages
Publisher: Brazos Press (March 1, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1587431947
ISBN-13: 978-1587431944
Product Dimensions: 8.9 x 6 x 1 inches
Shipping Weight: 1.2 pounds

Have you read this book? Are you considering a read of this book? Are you interested in sparking a discussion of the themes, points, critiques, and challenges of this book? Do you have questions or counterpoints of assertions from this book? Post a comment and join the conversation.

Next, I will review Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back by Josh Hamilton and Tim Keown.