jonathan stegall

When I was in high school and began getting to know Jesus, it was trendy to compare sharing one’s faith to having a cure for cancer that the world desperately needed. If only we would go out and tell people about our cure, they would come to us to receive it and be healed of their various deadly conditions. After all, what cancer patient would turn down an offer for a cure? Other popular comparisons were made to rescuers offering a lifeboat to people who were drowning, firefighters offering rescue from a burning building, and so on.

I very strongly wanted, and still very strongly want, to introduce Jesus to people that didn’t know him. I don’t remember ever using this kind of disease rhetoric when discussing faith with anyone, and I’m positive that if I did use it, it didn’t work and I would happily apologize to anyone with whom I may have used it.

Theologically, the idea of a cancer cure is not a bad concept. Humanity is messed up, and we all know it. I believe that one of the reasons that postmodernism exists is that modernism, with all of its science and objectivity and reason and knowledge, could not stop the most technologically advanced society of the 1930s from putting people into ovens. Following this time period, people earnestly questioned their knowledge and reason, and the idea of an innate human goodness.

Also, I don’t think there is a theological issue with the idea that Jesus can help us in our messiness. Many people, Christian and not, would agree for various reasons.

My issue is with the environment into which we are expected to put that concept. In post-Christendom, we as Christians are much more likely to be viewed as a cancer that needs a cure, contributing to the horror of the world in which we live, than we are to be viewed as people that might have a way to make the world a better place.

Especially in a conversation with a new friend or acquaintance, the idea that I have a cure or vaccine for the world’s problems because I’m a Christian is going to be met with ridicule at best, and a lifelong rejection of any consideration of Jesus at worst.

I believe passionately that the church loses its power and its prophetic nature when it baptizes and blindly endorses a political party, or a political candidate, or even a political idea. We have seen this occur in the United States over and over, and every time it does it blows up in our faces.

This makes it all the more wonderful to see the changes, however slow they may be, that are beginning to happen in American evangelicalism. People are beginning to realize that following Jesus does not coincide with following a party line of any kind. People that follow Jesus, ultimately, should not altogether be on any one’s side, because no one is altogether on our side (if you catch the Tolkien reference there, good for you).

In the last few weeks, I have been encouraged, annoyed, and angered by various ways that Christian engagement in politics, and the view that the rest of culture has of Christian engagement in politics, has played itself out. The Washington Post had a great interview with Brian McLaren the other day, where he simultaneously accepted and rejected the labels of conservative and liberal in favor of the message of Jesus, and it was a beautiful thing. Also, An Evangelical Manifesto was recently released, and stood firmly against aligning evangelicalism with partisan politics. While I don’t think the variety of voices within evangelicalism was given fair treatment, I appreciate many of the stances that were taken and hope that it will lay groundwork for further developments.

But the beauty of the Manifesto and of McLaren’s interview, with regard to politics, is that they retained their power to be a prophetic voice to politics without getting bogged down in blind allegiance on the one side, or in divisive statements on the other side. I don’t expect McLaren, or the signers of An Evangelical Manifesto, to publicly endorse a candidate. This is an incredibly wise decision for them, and will help to keep their voices as free from political garbage as possible.

Then, though, there is the continuation of Barack Obama’s struggles with his faith community. I hear the things that Jeremiah Wright has said, and I agree with many of them. I hear the things other ministers associated with Obama have said, and here is the issue: by continuing to speak about Obama specifically, or to speak in other politically charged ways at the same time that they are trying to speak in potentially divisive ways, they could be contributing to the end of Obama’s chances at the White House.

Obviously, if these ministers help Obama lose the White House they have missed the practicality of supporting a cause by helping to bring about its defeat. Obama took Jeremiah Wright’s comments from before the campaign (surrounding 9/11 and so on), and was able to talk to Americans about race as though they are adults, while still embracing his faith community and the core of what it stands for. I was incredibly pleased by this.

But as the saga has continued, these ministers have continued to talk in ways that 1) make it seem like Obama does, in fact, agree with what they are saying, and 2) are incredibly divisive to large numbers of Americans who otherwise might be united against many of the problems that these ministers are against. My gut feeling is that Obama agrees with some of what these ministers say, but is no longer free to speak in this way because he knows that he would then be associated with all of it, which obviously would hurt him.

Before you do anything with this post, visit www.zoecarnate.com and bookmark it. For several years, it has been an amazing resource for anything outside mainstream Christendom, and it continues to improve.

Now. Mike Morrell is one of the founders, and blogs at zoecarnate.wordpress.com. Currently, as part of a wide-ranging conversation that is occurring among emergent bloggers related to Pentecostals and charismatics, he is hosting a dialogue with John Crowder, a prophetic evangelist who wants to be “wasted on Jesus.” The dialogue is respectful, insightful, and is really a blessing to read.

An aside on the “wasted on Jesus” part of John’s message. I have often described experiences with the Spirit with that term, depending on who I was speaking with. I think it really is a valid, powerful metaphor for intense, life-changing encounters with the Spirit, and I never want to discount, forget, or stop desiring those encounters. Being a Post-charismatic should never negate the desire for these encounters, and I hope we who look at that term as a valid term will always make that clear.

On another note, though, I believe that one should not expect one who follows the Spirit to always exist in a “wasted” state. There are times of wilderness and darkness and suffering, and those times do not negate the presence of God even though we may be gripping with our fingernails for evidence of it. I have spent time in the wilderness, both because of the leading of the Spirit (Hosea 2:14) and because of my own laziness and stubbornness, and I have learned wisdom and patience and peace from those times (not that I am always wise, patient, or peaceful, but more so than I would be otherwise).

Pentecostals and charismatics have often struggled in leading a balanced life in the Spirit. They have often sought to live in the clouds, wasted, above the messiness and pain of real life. Non-Pentecostals and non-charismatics have often resisted intoxicating experiences with the Spirit because of this (and other, less noble reasons). Both sides have lost, and both sides have much to learn.

Like some others, I do see a link between the worldwide pentecostal movement (counting Pentecostal denominations, and charismatic churches and movements, it now numbers more than 500 million people) and the emerging church. I believe that the emerging movement, as it develops around the world alongside postmodernism in the West and postcolonialism everywhere else, has the potential to be one of the steps that the Holy Spirit takes to resolve this tension and lack of balance that exists in the church.

Recently, I’ve been reading Brian McLaren’s Everything Must Change.

I have also read The Secret Message of Jesus, which is meant to be read as a companion volume. If you have not read The Secret Message of Jesus, feel encouraged to click the link and pick it up, as it is on sale for $6.99 at Amazon.

In any case, as I have been reading Everything Must Change, I have found much to be challenged by, to remember, to share with others, and to allow Jesus to shape my life by. Most of the things that he presents are at least familiar to me, if not things that I’ve thought, prayed, discussed, taught, been taught, and been convicted by. Often, though, he expresses these things in ways that I have thought but not expressed, or have forgotten, or particularly in ways that bring up new implications for my life.

As an aside, there is a review of this book that Jonny Baker wrote several months ago, and it is worth reading. Jonny Baker is one of the people that is most aware of what God is doing in Western culture, and he has a brilliant mind and spirit. The post indicates that much of the thinking is already established in the U.K., although it is certainly radical in the United States. Brian McLaren has an insightful comment on the post, as well.

The strength of this book lies in the insights that it presents into what powers the world, especially America and those who are impacted by the American Empire, and in the insights that it presents into what Jesus has to say to that power. The “framing story” that Jesus offers really can and should change everything, in my life and your life and in the ways we interact with the world around us.

There are countless examples and quotations (and misquotations) floating around on the internet, and a quick search will bring up many of them. But there are a few things that have really shaken me, and inspired my imagination.

Communism, [Rene Padilla] says, specialized in distribution but failed at production. As a result, it ended up doing a great job of distributing poverty evenly. Capitalism, he says, was excellent at production but weak at distribution. As a result, it ended up rewarding the wealthy with obscene amounts of wealth while the poor suffered on in horrible degradation and indignity…

The twenty-first century began in the aftermath of the defeat of Marxism. The story of the coming century will likely be the story of whether a sustainable form of capitalism can be saved from theocapitalism [the religion-like seeking of prosperity], or whether unrestrained theocapitalism will result in such gross inequity between rich and poor that violence and counterviolence will bring civilization to a standstill, or perhaps worse.

There is an amazing amount of depth in that paragraph. and it helps introduce the “suicide machine” and its systems that this book is attempting to deconstruct. Certainly it is not an optimistic statement, but the book is constantly balancing it with statements like this:

If we believe, the decadent and self-indulgent West can be converted from overconsumers to creative stewards, from empire builders to community builders, from sex-obsessed and self-indulgent couch potatoes to people like Graciela, Luiz, and Leticia and their family - who along the way through their life, discover a magnificent vision and a sacred mission that give their lives unimagined meaning.

And this is the kind of statement that challenges everything about the way I live, and inspires my visions about the way I want to live. This is the kind of thing that makes the book a valid challenge to those of us who claim the story of Jesus.

I’m a male, Christian feminist. I have learned and taught the truth of Scripture, that before God there is no division between men and women, just as there is no difference between Jews and Gentiles. I have sought to authentically live that out, as a minister, as a husband, and as a person.

Now that I’ve gotten that statement down, I want to look at a couple of challenges that a guy who makes that statement faces.

When I was in college, one of the really trendy books for “young Christian men” was Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. I must confess: I read it once. Further confession: there were certain parts of it that I liked, and that I think spoke truth to me as a man (and, I feel that I was able to integrate certain concepts into my very different perspective). But other parts of it made me sick.

I haven’t read any of his other books, and I haven’t read his wife’s book (books?) either, so I may not be entirely informed on his views. But, a fairly large part of my memory of this book is the mental image of a man feeling alive and masculine because he was able to hike up a mountain with a gun, and kill a bear. Another fairly large part of my memory is the concept of a man being alive and masculine because he can rescue his lovely princess from dreadful dangers, because of course she wants a knight in shining armor to come galloping by and do just that.

I don’t believe guns make anyone masculine, and certainly they don’t make anyone alive. I think guns are barbaric, even when they are used against other beings that know how to use them. But against a bear? Bears may be big and look impressive, but what are they really going to do to a man from hundreds of feet away? Growl? Maybe stand up and wave their arms around, if they even see him?

Further, I don’t believe my wife needs a knight in shining armor. Certainly, she needs support. She needs to feel cherished and celebrated, and her mind sees those things manifest themselves in different ways that mine does. But rescue is a universal thing, and she’s as capable of rescuing me (and I need it just as much) as I am of rescuing her. And, of course, ultimately neither of us are entirely capable of rescuing each other anyway, and will utterly fail at marriage if we expect that from each other.

I was reminded of all of this as I was watching a video called Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage. Apparently, it is a series of six (or so) videos, and I’ve seen two of them.

First video

The first one was decent. It discussed the metaphor of a man’s brain as being full of boxes that are, by default, separate. So, there is a wife box, a kid box, a work box, a car box, a recreation box, and so on. Each box stays as separate from the other boxes as possible. Then, there is the metaphor of a woman’s brain as being like interconnected wiring. Everything touches everything else, and so everything affects everything else. An argument my wife has with her boss may pop up while she’s watching a movie, while an argument I have with my boss may never pop up outside of work.

This is not a new metaphor. I learned it in counseling classes in college, from people who’s wisdom I respect, and I do see evidence that it is at least partly true. I don’t entirely disagree with it (as long as its implications are not blown out of proportion, which they often are). However, it does bring up a strange question. Is this a Western issue? Typically, Eastern worldviews (this includes Jewish thought, which is very important to those of us who seek to understand Scripture that was predominantly written by Jews) are very holistic. Spirituality is not separate from the rest of life. Eastern thought, for example, does not have the saying, “I’d do ______ if only I weren’t in church,” because it recognizes that one’s interactions with Jesus are not confined to a single location for a few hours a week.

So, does this metaphor break down outside of Western society? Are Eastern men as non-compartmentalized as Western women? If so, why? How? What can I do to become less compartmentalized? If Western women do not have compartmentalized minds, how do they have an equally compartmentalized worldview (the above quote is given by women just as often as it is by men)? If Eastern men do have compartmentalized minds, how do they manage to have a holistic worldview? What can I do to get a more holistic worldview?

Second video

Now, I also saw a second video. This second session went into the oft-repeated idea that men essentially want to be action heroes, and women essentially want to be in wonderful relationships. Men want to beat up the bad guys, and (direct quote) “go back for the girl.” Women want to be in relationships, and for men to (direct quote) “go back for the girl.”

Aside from the obvious exceptions to both of those rules, (I hate action movies, unless they have intelligent thought, and don’t care to beat up anyone or anything, and my wife loves to make fun of chick flicks) the statement that the guy needs to go back for the girl has a direct implication that she is behind him. That makes me entirely sick, and in the context where it was used it reeked of chauvinism. It brought up the image of a man doing _____ while his wife sits at home, taking care of his kids (which was used as an example) until he comes back to sit down and talk to her until he goes back out to do whatever it is that he does.

The (most) frustrating part of the message presented in this video is that it takes legitimate differences between men and women (the fact that they do not think the same way), and uses them to impose limitations and illegitimate gender roles (because they don’t think the same way, certain limitations are seen as necessary) on the people who listen to it. It’s not the kind of message that says, “everything that can go wrong in a marriage can be fixed if the woman just does what the man wants.” It at least has progressed beyond that, as it regularly talks about mutual give and take between the partners in a marriage. I think there is good information mentioned in the message, and if this post weren’t already so long I might go into some of it. But the good information in part two, at least, seemed to be subpoints to a main point that is essentially oppressive.

The struggle that makes this post worth writing is this: being a male feminist who wants to continually improve his marriage is a difficult thing. I enjoy going to marital counseling with my wife. Whether or not I think there is room to grow, of course there always is. I enjoy resources that teach me to grow as a husband. In order to get anything out of some resources, I have to filter what I’m seeing or hearing through my own perspective because the perspective of the given resource (in the case of Wild at Heart, or this video) may be entirely antithetical to my own.

Other things

For what it’s worth, there are some great resources that can speak to a desire for equality.

• Are Men Really Human? (written by a male feminist)
• Christians for Biblical Equality (always a great presence at Cornerstone Festival)
• Christian Feminism blog
• Women in the Bible - Christian Thinktank

Thoughts? I may look further into what it actually means to be a male feminist if there is interest, but for the sake of this post I wanted to look at an issue that repeatedly arises in trying to improve one’s marriage.

As I’ve said fairly often on this blog, I met Jesus in a Pentecostal church, and went to a Pentecostal college for one of the degrees I earned. One of the really common parts of the Pentecostal and charismatic movements is revival. Seeking revival, predicting revival, announcing revival, and any number of other things.

What is revival?

The interesting thing is that there are as many definitions of what revival is as there are ways of looking for and identifying it. The Old Testament sees (thematically and linguistically) revival as restoring something to life - whether it is a person’s physical life, spiritual life, or the relationship of Israel to Yahweh.

The New Testament uses a word that is often translated as stirring up, or kindling (like a fire), and can also be translated as revival. So, a follower of Jesus can stir up the Spirit within her, and she is revived in this way.

Interestingly, nowhere does Scripture refer to revival as an event. It doesn’t speak of evangelists, or crusades, or altar calls, or anything else that we typically associate with it in modern, Western Christianity. Evangelists and altar calls and nightly meetings are not necessarily excluded from what revival is, but neither are they necessary.

In church history, revival typically comes when the church is at a low point, and a person or group of people begins to stir up the flame, and seek life in the Spirit. In some way, usually a way that is entirely unexpected, God responds.

Examples of this include the various monastic movements (especially the life and effects of St. Francis), the Protestant Reformation (especially the Anabaptists), the Methodist movement, several Great Awakenings, the birth of the Pentecostal movement in Wales and Los Angeles in the early 20th century, and the charismatic movement (and alongside it, the Jesus Movement) across mainline and evangelical denominations in the mid 20th century.

All of these examples, at their beginning at least, had two parts: personal and social. Many of the followers of Jesus in these movements saw visions, dreams, and had powerful encounters with the Spirit. They also experienced a renewal of desire to share their experiences with others, and started innovative churches and ministries, helped the poor and the outcast, and especially in the case of Azusa Street in Los Angeles, they saw that “the color line was washed away in the blood.”

Current revival issues

In the mid to late 20th century up to the present, the term revival has come to mean a lot less, and also a lot more. Now, it refers to a series of meetings with a guest preacher. Nothing really has to change at all, either inwardly or outwardly. If something is expected to change, usually it is narrowed down to physical healing.

There are still people who talk about revival in a more biblical sense. Graham Cooke is one of these, and defines revival as the restoration of the church’s passion for people who are far from God. Then, he sees a stage of reformation, where the effect of that passion goes out into society and changes people. Changes society, and influences it with the kingdom of God. And this, of course, is that second part of social influence.

What’s going on in Lakeland?

Lately, there has been a lot of talk about revival in Lakeland, Florida. Todd Bentley is leading this, and it has moved to the local (regional) airport, where there is not enough space to hold all of the people who want to be there.

I spent just over five years living in Lakeland, long enough to earn a couple of degrees, and earn some extra money to get out of Florida. When I first moved there to attend college, a group of people formed in a small coffeeshop to pray for revival. We wanted to pray for revival among ourselves, in our school, and in Lakeland itself. We kept this up for at least three years, maybe four, and we saw very little effect outside ourselves.

It’s interesting to look at what is happening in Lakeland (people coming from the outside, reports of miraculous things, and renewed and new passion for Jesus) from a distant perspective, and ponder whether or not this is the answer to our prayers. I have come to extreme respect for the wisdom of Robby Mac, and he has a recent post that I think has a very balanced perspective. In essence, he believes that the Spirit is, in fact, at work in Lakeland, but that his work there does not necessitate his approval of the theology or the methodology that is at work there, and it does not mean that people who want to be part of the work of the Spirit need to ignore their own sense of discernment.

And that’s a beautiful thing that I’ve taught, and have observed in my education and in various experiences in pentecost (referring to Pentecostal and charismatic things). God is less interested in perfecting our theology and methodology before he uses us than he is in using us while he changes us. There is great power in grasping that statement.

So, I would love to join some of my friends who are still in Lakeland, and have been to these meetings to see what God is doing. It’s wonderful to see a prayer like that being answered, regardless of how weird the answer is.

I received the following letter as a resident of Georgia who supports the National Religious Campaign Against Torture. Apparently, Georgia is one of ten states that do not yet have a congregation signed up to express opposition to torture.

Atlanta is a city that has an absurd number of churches. It’s impossible to drive more than a mile or two without seeing at least one, and many of them are incredibly large and wealthy, and can certainly afford to buy a banner. There are at least five churches within a mile of my apartment. And yet, the entire state of Georgia doesn’t have a congregation signed up to oppose torture?

Please consider the letter below, should you be in a position to influence a Georgian congregation.

——

Dear Pastor/Rabbi/Congregational Leader:

I am a supporter of the National Religious Campaign Against Torture (NRCAT), an interfaith coalition of more than 160 national, regional and local religious organizations joined together to ensure that the United States does not engage in torture or cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment of anyone, without exception. (For more information and to endorse NRCAT’s Statement of Conscience “Torture is a Moral Issue,” visit the website: www.tortureisamoralissue.org.)

As part of my work with NRCAT, I encourage your congregation to participate in the “Banners Across America” project this June. NRCAT is asking congregations of all sizes, from every state and all faiths, to join in a public witness against torture by displaying a banner outside their place of worship during Torture Awareness Month (June).

Click here for complete information about the project and to place an order. You can choose from two sizes and two designs, as well as an option to customize your banner to include the name of your congregation. The cost ranges from $100 to $175, including shipping.

You can also purchase a banner from another source or use one you already have. Just tell NRCAT’s John Humphries (contact info below) that your congregation will display a banner in June, so he knows that your congregation and your state will be participating.

Your congregation’s participation will help to raise the visibility of the national campaign in at least 3 ways:

• It will provide an opportunity for members of your congregation to talk together about the continuing shame of torture as government policy and about the role of religious people in speaking out on this moral issue.
• It will put your congregation on record as opposing torture, in a very public way, and can encourage other local congregations to join you in a collective witness in your community.
• It will help NRCAT document a nationwide religious resolve to end torture through a coordinated media effort to draw attention to specific communities with significant numbers of banners, as well as the breadth of participation across the entire country.

At the end of the project, NRCAT wants to produce a poster with photos of banners hung on a variety of houses of worship. They will deliver a copy of the poster to every member of Congress and the President, and they will make it available for purchase.

You can help NRCAT achieve these ambitious goals by:

1. Visiting the Banners Across America webpage (accessible via one of the red boxes in the center of the NRCAT homepage, (www.tortureisamoralissue.org) to get the complete information;
2. Encourage your congregation to purchase a banner and display it during June 2008;
3. Send NRCAT a digital photograph of the banner hanging outside your house of worship so we can post it on the website and possibly use it for a national poster.

If you have any questions or need assistance, please contact NRCAT’s Director for Program Coordination, John Humphries, at 860-216-7972 or jhumphries@nrcat.org.

Sincerely,
Your Name

As I’ve said, I have been reading unChristian, written by David Kinnaman of the Barna Group. I just finished it, and want to look at it as a whole.

First of all, I highly recommend the book. It’s worth reading, regardless of one’s situation, knowledgebase, outlook, etc. At Revolution, various people in leadership decided to read it, as we deal on an immediate and intentional basis with the opinions that outsiders to the church have of Christianity and of Christians.

The book’s audience

Second of all, once one decides to read the book it’s a really good thing to know who its audience is expected to be. It is written, mainly but not exclusively, with people that are already evangelical Christians, and most likely not part of the Mosaic or Buster generations.

With that being said, it is not really written to people who are well-acquainted with what is going on between the church and culture in our time. It has much to say to them, but much of it will be stuff that is already known.

The book’s value

I feel like people in the target audience could be shaken by this book, and that they should be shaken by this kind of information. I think it could serve as a bold call to repentance and change in the church.

However, anyone who reads it can and should get a lot out of it. There are great stories, there is great information, and there is a powerful heart being expressed. Consider the following:

We don’t please him [God] by pretending to be perfect or by taking offense at outsiders; we please him by making Jesus real to people, even those that don’t like us. This is how we start to shift way from unChristian faith. We halt our vain efforts to preserve self-image and start trying to be agents of restoration through self-sacrifice and in blessing the lives of outsiders. This is what pleases God.

This is a gripping statement, regardless of one’s current position, and for me it really helps sum up the value and the point of the book. It convicts and inspires me just as much as it should convict and inspire the pastor of a suburban, 100+ year old church.

From Emerging Pentecostals:

…a conversation about emergence within a pentecostal framework would be helped greatly if we took some time to share our stories of emergence.

This is a wonderful idea, and I want to be a part of it. Thus, consider this my story of emergence, or of how I came to be involved with both the pentecostal church and what is commonly called the emerging church.

I met Jesus when I was just shy of fifteen years old, and met him through what you could call a dramatic encounter that took place in an Assembly of God church in Salisbury, North Carolina. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to be a part of the supernatural actions of God in the world. I wanted to be close to him in tangible ways, and I wanted to bring others to be close to him as well.

As my faith developed, I began to grow in some very specific ways that together have shaped the person I am now, almost ten years later. First, I began to seek out how I, specifically, should serve Jesus with my life. I looked into being a pastor, a missionary to an obscure country, and a number of other things, because I felt strongly that I was called to reach out to people that were far from God.

Finally, I found confirmation in the idea that I was called to reach the outcasts of our own society. The people who did not fit in with the traditional church, whether because the church rejected them, because they rejected the church, or both. This manifests itself in more ways today than it did ten years ago. At the time, most of this kind of ministry was happening in the various underground subcultures, and it still is. But now, it has moved significantly further into the mainstream with organizations like Emergent Village. In any case, my heart was inextricably linked to the underground, and it remains so now.

As I began to learn about this calling, I also began to learn that I had a passion for being at the cutting edge of whatever I could. I can still remember a message I heard that described the church of today as the kind of organization that would build a church at the site where Jesus performed some great feat, rather than following him to see what he would do next. I passionately want to be involved in the current mission of God in the world. I don’t want to be where God was five years ago. I want to know where his heart is today.

In addition to, and as part of, these previous things, I began to have a deep desire to communicate with love, grace, and power to people who did not yet know Jesus, that they might see him as he really is and give consideration to the kind of influence he would like to have on their lives.

These areas have been molded and shaped through education, experience, prayer, thought, and conversation over the last several years, but at their core they remain the same, and they are derived from a desire to live in intimacy with Jesus, thus my involvement with the pentecostal and charismatic church. I am well aware of the shortcomings of the movement, and at this point I identify far more closely with the term Post-Charismatic than with pentecostal or charismatic, but I am also aware that there is much good in the movement.

As for my involvement with the emerging church, it began through my desire to be a voice to the underground. For most of my life, I have fit with the underground, and I’m comfortable with this. I feel at home there. It’s natural that I would want to share what I believe is commonly hidden about Jesus from these unique people.

As I’ve said before, I have been blessed to be involved with the Underground Railroad and learn from and be in community with the wonderful ministries that are part of it. Many of these ministries have been around for decades, and have been doing the kind of ministry that is now known as “emergent” for longer than I have been alive.

Thus, I have come into the emerging church, and thus into Emergent itself, from what you might call a back door. I have learned ministry by grace, unconditional acceptance, and the power of authenticity from the underground, and have sought to learn how it fits with my personal theology, my personal experiences, and my personal areas of calling. Many other leaders of the emerging church, including Andrew Jones, also came to be involved in similar ways.

I feel that this is one of the most valuable facets of the emerging church and the Emergent conversation: that people who spend their lives reaching out to the darkest corners of western society can come together with people who study postmodernism in universities or painting in art schools, with people who understand that colonialism is dead and its obituary is the power of the non-Western world, with those who do research on the effectiveness of modern Christianity in the Western world, and with those who simply feel like something is missing from their normal church experience.

More interesting still, than these examples, is that no one fits into only one of these areas. For example, I have a passion for walking into dark places as a shadow of Jesus, but I also have a ministerial education from a pentecostal university, an art degree from a secular art school, and a weird job history of discussing theology and politics and philosophy for hours at a time while cleaning toilets and mopping floors. Emergence indeed.

Over the last year or so, I have noticed a lot of interest in new monasticism. Blogs, organizations, churches, and so on have been learning about mysticism, hospitality, living in community, and embracing a simple life. They’ve been learning concepts of monasticism, and applying them to the emerging culture. Thus, they are learning to study, pray, and engage in social action as a real community.

Some of these include Missio Dei, The Simple Way, and to varying extents lots of other places.

I’ve watched these developments, and this week there was an article in the Boston Globe about new monasticism. It’s a great article. Worth a read.

More fundamentally, New Monastics consider themselves “monks in the world.” They are not interested in extreme isolation or asceticism (though there are stories about the occasional Protestant “hermit” living in the Mountain West). Nearly all have regular jobs and social lives. From the traditionalist perspective, many break the most essential monastic rule: they are married…

More importantly, these groups do not aim to separate themselves from society - on the contrary, they see New Monasticism as a means to better integrate core Christian values into their lives as average citizens. This is the fundamental difference between old monks and the new. New Monastics often quote one of their heroes, Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who captured the ambitions - and the ecumenical limits - of the movement when he wrote in 1935, “the restoration of the church will surely come only from a new kind of monasticism which will have nothing in common with the old but a life of uncompromising adherence to the Sermon on the Mount in imitation of Christ.”

In watching and thinking about these kind of things, I find that it speaks to me, but I’m not entirely sure what to do with it. It’s entirely possible that I could end up living in community. I find the thought challenging. I want to learn to engage in solitude, hospitality, and prayer in ways that I don’t know. It, also, is challenging.

Regardless of whether I end up getting a house with a bunch of other people, it is essential that I, and the church, learn from this kind of thing. I believe there are ways to integrate this at my faith community, and ways that we are, and probably ways that we are not, called to this kind of life.