On a more personal note, I met Brian McLaren at Willow Creek a few years ago. At that point, I had read Brian’s books, knew of his work with Emergent, and was just looking forward to hearing him in person. He has a way of making you re-think things and isn’t that what great leaders do ... always push for change.
Surprisingly, I got the chance to talk with him myself and was disarmed by how present he was in the conversation. What I took away from that moment wasn’t so much the content of the conversation but how he paid attention to being in the now. I’m so glad that you’ll get to hear his thoughts.
This session of the Leadership Summit may have been historic.
Bill Hybels called his interview with Richard Curtis "very disturbing," and it takes disturbing messages to change history.
We'd all agree the interview was fascinating and powerful. But the conclusions Bill drew pushed "fascinating and powerful" up to the edge of disturbing, and then over it. Bill articulated the irony that all of us felt: Here is a comic film-maker who hasn't "put the pieces of faith together" yet, who is caring for people in poverty (for whom God cares greatly!) more than any of us who may claim to have the pieces of put together.
Bill said it well: An unmistakable mark of followers of Christ is that they care for the poor, yet often it is people who don't call themselves Christians who bear this mark, and people who call themselves Christians -- even Christian leaders -- don't.
[Side questions: Have any of us really put the pieces of our faith together so well? Are we really as different from Richard Curtis as we might think? Might we have some pieces of the puzzle put together better than he, but he has some pieces put together way better than we do?]
Bill said, "The older I get, the more this bothers me," and I feel the same way. In my thirties, I think, I was trying to "make it" as a pastor. I needed a big church -- or at least one that was bigger than it was last year -- yes, because I wanted to serve God and fulfill the Great Commission, but also (recalling John Ortberg's powerful words earlier about our "shadow mission") because I needed to be significant, a winner in the pastor game, the leadership game, whatever.
Something happens in the forties and fifties, though. If we achieve the goals we set in our younger years, we wonder if that's all there is. And if we don't reach our goals, if we resign ourselves to the fact that we'll never be a star, we wonder what we'll be and do instead.
Either way, we reach a point of possibility, of choosing a higher road.
A friend of mine provides a wonderful example. His promising start as a pastor had a tragic end. He planted a church that grew, but then his child was molested by a church member and the church supported the member more than their pastor and his family. My friend left to work for another church where he soon ended up on the wrong side of a turf battle and was squeezed out. All his dreams of pastoral glory had turned to dirt. But I saw my friend a few months ago, and something has happened to him. From his terrible pain and disappointment in the pastorate, a resurrection has happened.
A few years ago, he somehow ended up visiting a desperately poor place in another country. He was touched there by God, and he began doing what he could to help the people there. He has a day job now back in the U.S., but he is constantly raising funds and recruiting people to go there on mission trips several times a year with him, building houses, attending to health care needs, simply doing what they can to show God's love to people in need. He told me, "Before I die, I want to touch every person in this poor community with the love of God." When he said this, there was a light in his eyes, that spark that identifies someone who is on a mission from God. You'll probably never know this guy's name. He won't write books or be asked to speak at conferences, but I can't help but think what a waste it would have been for him to succeed at being a "big name pastor" and miss the chance to join God serving among the poor.
Scripture makes it so clear that the injustice of poverty is a key concern to God. Micah's summary of what really matters to God implies it: doing justice and loving compassion are put on par with walking humbly with God. And Jesus' example and teaching overflow with it, even though we are often amazingly "good" at minimizing or avoiding this dimension of Jesus' good news -- which, according to Luke 4, was especially directed to the poor. We miss how, for example, when Jesus called the rich young ruler, he was calling him to join Jesus in his mission to the poor. We miss what it is that lands another rich man in hell, according to Luke 16:19 ff. That may mess up our normal theological categories, but there it is.
Since my life and plans were disrupted by a new understanding of "good news to the poor," I often speak about this inescapable dimension of Scripture. Almost without fail when I do, someone will respond by quoting Jesus against Jesus, so to speak. By quoting Matthew 26:11, "The poor you will have with you always," they seem to feel they've raised a Scriptural shield against the brute power of the message Bill Hybels and Richard Curtis brought today.
Although Matthew 26:11 may be used to dodge the call to get seriously involved in justice for the poor, it proves a flimsy shield when we realize that Jesus is quoting Deuteronomy 15. The rest of the sentence Jesus quotes -- I'm sure he wasn't ignorant of it! -- goes like this (15:11): "Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land." If that weren't bad enough, we also can notice that the first half of this sentence -- that there will always be poor among us -- is in dynamic tension with a sentence earlier in the chapter (15:4), which says, "However, there should be no poor among you, for in the land your God is giving you he will richly bless you." In other words, if there are poor, it's not because God didn't provide enough for everyone; it's because we didn't distribute what God provided. (That could be a good sermon.)
We so often miss this theme again and again as it surfaces throughout the New Testament. For example, in Galatians, an epistle that celebrates the precious truth that we're saved by grace, not works, it's so easy to gloss over Paul's words (2:10): "They asked only one thing, that we remember the poor, which was actually what I was eager to do."
I loved Bill's question: "Can you leverage what you do well to rectify this injustice of poverty?" For the many pastors and other church leaders at the event, this is a powerful question. How can our preaching, teaching, counseling, budgeting, planning, and goal-setting be used to address the injustice of poverty the way Richard Curtis has used film and television work?
I wasn't surprised to hear Richard say that what motivated him to care for the poor was the Sermon on the Mount. I couldn't help but think that the "red nose day" that he has helped create in England may be more in the spirit of the Sermon on the Mount than our normal Christmas celebrations! He said the Sermon on the Mount was the "truest thing" he had ever read, and I wondered, maybe simply preaching or teaching the Sermon on the Mount would be one thing pastors and other Christian leaders could do to help their congregations move in the direction of the call we heard today. The challenge would be not to tame the Sermon on the Mount down, not to tame it to fit into our normal boxes. The challenge would be to let it be free to disturb us.
Bill said, "I'm calling every single one of you to a life like that. I dream of the day when it's normal for every church to take justice matters seriously" I can only say amen.
If we respond to what we've heard today, if we let this “very disturbing” message disturb us right out of our comfort zones, shadow missions, and status quo, then Richard's dream and Bill's dream could come true, and we could make history by making poverty have a smaller place in the history of our future. And I think Jesus would say, “That's my dream too. Thanks for being part of it.”
So, now it is your turn. What would you say disturbed you most? What are you rethinking? Let us in on your process.