Word&Way Voices

A steeple is perhaps the most distinguishing architectural feature of churches. When you see a steeple, you think “church.” There was a time when churches were at the center of villages. And the steeple, pointing to heaven, indicated this community belongs to God.

In the previous column, I noted evangelism is alive and well even though it may not look like “old-fashioned soul-winning.” Instead, the 21st century approach is imbedded in the church’s ongoing service, morphing into new shapes which are culture-sensitive.

But moderate Baptist churches also need to ask the hard question: Is that enough?

During the 1970’s, I was pastor of a wonderful young church. The membership was composed of young families with lots of young children. It was an ideal opportunity for an energetic young pastor like me.

However, I quickly realized we had a problem. I could not accommodate all the pastoral expectations of the congregation.

The shift over the last few decades in church has been noticeable — and that’s a good thing. We have gone from wearing suits and ties and dresses and skirts, to wearing our jeans and holding our iced lattes as we gather for Sunday service.

And gone are the days where we hear the explanations for last Sunday when we missed. 

In recent years, I have had the opportunity to travel overseas a few times. Each time that I have visited a foreign land, I have returned to the United States with a renewed confidence in the formation of God’s Kingdom in the here and now and how God consistently works through people who simply make themselves available to God’s presence.

Whatever happened to evangelism? It’s a fair question. It’s a good question. But it’s one which needs unpacking. Asking whatever happened to evangelism is not the same as asking, “Why don’t we have revival meetings anymore?”

I have been an outsider among judgmental people. I know how it feels to walk into a room and for people to think they know who you are the moment they see you because of the neighborhood where you grew up or your family life circumstances.

We grew up in a predominantly African American neighborhood called the Ville in North St. Louis City. The Bible asks the question, “What good can come from Nazareth?” The question could be reworded to ask, “What good can come from the Ville?”

Regarding the discipline of practicing Sabbath (Jews prefer the Hebrew word “Shabbat”), I have read and written many sermons and articles. But nothing brings this floating, vague theological notion down out of the clouds like spending time with real, living, breathing Orthodox Jews who lovingly practice their faith. 

She’s a new mother; she is also an older mother. Because of her age, she worried herself silly during her pregnancy. Her physician quickly picked up on her anxiety and did her best to assure her that all was well, even ordering some tests that were only marginally needed. Near the end of her pregnancy, the doctor said with a smile, “I hate to tell you this, but you have had a perfectly normal pregnancy.”

In the gospels, Jesus had to regularly contend with what people thought of him and the people that regularly surrounded him. Whether it was fishermen, tax collectors or the sick, the religious elite wondered why he preferred being around the wrong people. In Luke 7:36-50, Jesus deals with this head on during a meal at the home of Simon the Pharisee.