Monday, December 9, 2013

The Calling of the Church - (An Offering in Ecclesiology)

The Calling of the Church

THE CALLING OF THE CHURCH

Brian R. Paulson, Pastor – First Presbyterian Church of Libertyville, Illinois

May, 2009

INTRODUCTION

By the word of the Lord the heavens were made,
   and all their host by the breath of his mouth. …

Let all the earth fear the Lord;
   let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him.
For he spoke, and it came to be;
   he commanded, and it stood firm.  

                                                                  - Psalm 33:6-9 sel.

            There are an abundance of spiritual voices in the world today.  Societies are increasingly plural in speech about God.  However the abundance of possibility being voiced has yet to satisfy an evident spiritual hunger among the peoples.  The church “is in, with, against, and for”[1] this plural world in multiple ways all at once.  The church catalyzes the world in varied forms according to the divergence of settings in which it is found.  Yet regardless of its circumstance, the church always exists in response to the call of God.

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.

When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them,

    and the sheep follow him because

    they know his voice.

They will not follow a stranger.                                   

                                                                   - John 10:3-5

            Here is the starting point for my understanding the Church.  It is God’s creation.  It is not simply another spiritual manifestation in the world.  The Church belongs to Jesus Christ and is God’s creation by the power of the Holy Spirit.  Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls to us, seeks us out, and satisfies our spiritual hunger in pastures green with spiritual nourishment.

BORN OF THE SPIRIT

“Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God

 without being born of water and Spirit.”                              

                                                                   - John 3:5

            The origin for an understanding of the Church is found in the power of the Holy Spirit.  The sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit is both the origin and the sustaining force of the church.  Consequently a proper understanding of the Church requires a grounded understanding of sanctification.  (Further on, I will offer some original biblical meditation upon the calling of the church.  However, since this paper is written in the Jubilee year of John Calvin for the benefit of the Presbyterian Church (USA), my primary source for foundational Reformed perspectives will be Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion.)

            Sanctification was a central emphasis of Calvin’s ministry in Geneva and has properly belonged at the heart of Reformed witness ever since.[2]  Sanctification is the “newness of life” attained through faith that is conferred by Christ.[3]  Christ “unites himself to us by the Spirit alone”[4] and “faith is the principal work of the Holy Spirit.”[5]  This work of the Holy Spirit is nourished and guided through the Church in God’s children “until they mature and at the last reach the goal of faith.”[6]

            The power of God manifest in the Holy Spirit is what shapes the Church.  Vague and generalized talk about the movement of the spirit does not identify the Church.  Christians are not called by inchoate spiritual winds.  “Take away the Word and no faith will then remain.”[7]  The Church is born of the “ruach” - the “wind” of God’s breath.  That breath, “the Word”, is established.  It calls for response and blows in the world with the force of God as Holy Spirit.

            The sanctifying work of God offers a framework for understanding the calling of the Church.  God calls the Church into being and sustains the Church in mission.  The call of God gathers us and the power of God sends us.  The mission of the Church and the nature of the Church are united in its calling from God.

            The Reformed heritage of the Christian faith has emphasized the sanctifying work of God always reforming our life together.  As Harold Nebelsick wrote, "We are the recipients of the activity of the Holy Spirit which reforms the church in accordance with the Word of God."[8]  This transforming work of reformation is recognized: in clear proclamation of the Word; and as the sacraments are shared in accord with the grace of God.[9]

            We understand that a calling from God does not exist in solitude.  The Holy Spirit came upon the gathered disciples on the day of Pentecost.  Today the community lends its confirmation to every genuine call because each true call sustains an echo in faithful response that is audible for those whose ears are trained to hear[10] the work of the Holy Spirit.[11]  This training to hear may be called the discipline of nurture in virtue – another true mark of the Church.[12]

            The Holy Spirit calls us toward a common destiny.[13]  The Church nourishes our lives by this training that is powered by the Holy Spirit.[14]  Sanctification is described by Calvin as the life changing work of repentance.  This work of the Holy Spirit is regeneration by faith.  Such transformation takes place in the Church as a kind of lifelong school of discipleship.[15]  The power of the Holy Spirit strengthens and sends the Church to teach and preach the Gospel in every place.  This is not the work of a day, but of a lifetime.[16]  It is the work of the Holy Spirit that calls, transforms, and sends the Church in proclamation.

THE GREAT BANQUET

The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.

- Matthew 22:2

            The Gospels of Matthew and Luke share a parable of Jesus about a great banquet that was prepared.[17]  Invitations had been sent out to guests so that they were able to prepare for the occasion.  On the day of the banquet, servants were sent out to inform the guests that all was ready.  Yet the invited guests did not arrive in timely fashion.  So the servants were sent out again.  Only this time the servants were sent to gather people from the roads and hedgerows so the extravagance of the banquet could be shared.

            Since the gathered Church is a foretaste or exhibition of the kingdom of heaven, allow me to use the contours of this parable to reflect upon the calling of the Church.

Called to Celebrate

            In our wired and highly interconnected world, there are barely a few places in the globe that have yet to hear about the Christian faith in some way, shape, or form.  Even if the faith is understood as but a caricature laced with misunderstandings or apprehensions, most of the world has heard of Jesus and people who call themselves Christian.  Just as most of the world has spent some time discussing heaven and what may await them after death.  So also, most of the world knows that Christians live with an expectation of heavenly reward.

            Every time we gather for the Lord’s Supper in our congregation, we anticipate the great heavenly banquet.  Our lives are oriented toward this heavenly reward of communion with God and with the beloved whom God has called.  The world knows that we anticipate this banquet - just as the villagers in Jesus’ parable must all have been aware that a banquet had been planned.

            The rub of the parable begins when servants are sent out to announce the banquet was ready.  Yet despite the fact that everyone knew the banquet had been planned no one deemed it worthy of their time to come.  Could this tell us something about the Church and the world?

            I realize that the parable at this point is addressing a different context and that tensions between Gentile and Jewish Christians can be seen in its exposition.  But I would like to consider it in light of our own situation.

            Could it be that the world knows of an invitation but, after watching the Church through the centuries, considers our banquet to be a tasteless meal?  Or could it be that the Church has grown so familiar with its routine that it has forgotten to celebrate the life we have been given?  I believe we are called to celebrate.

            In my household the call goes out most every evening for dinner.  Everyone hears the call and understands that there is an expectation involved in the call.  My wife and I respond to each other’s call because we know that all is ready and we love the person who calls us.  The call and the table define our lives in relationship to each other.  The call sets our lives in motion to be gathered and nourished.

            Like the call to dinner at home, God’s call brings us to the table and sets our lives in motion.  Like at home, some days are more ordinary than others.  Yet the call to every Christian is a call to celebrate.  We are called to celebrate a meal that tastes like heaven.  I believe the Holy Spirit gives us power to celebrate the life we share as Church.


Called to Change

            Those who respond to the call of God come as they are, drawn by the power of grace.  Just as billions of people around the world come to the Lord’s Table for communion every week, so the banquet hall in Jesus’ parable was filled with guests.  The celebration began even without those who defined their lives by their excuses.

            Yet even as the hall is filled in Jesus’ parable, a jarring note is sounded.  Luke suggests that none who were invited would taste the meal, then Jesus, in Luke, goes on to tell us we cannot be his disciple if we do not take up the cross.  Matthew tells the story with even more jarring impact.  The king noticed that one of the guests was not wearing a wedding robe.  When the man was speechless without excuse, he was bound and thrown into the outer darkness.

            In our family, when we gather at table, there is an expectation of manners.  This extends not only to the particulars of Emily Post, but also to the quality of the conversation we share.  We are expected to be honest about our daily lives.  We also are expected to encourage one another in our challenges as well as our successes.  These and other expectations are rarely explicit except when they are noticeably neglected.  The manners of Holy Spirit that we expect at table are as integral to our meals as our clothes are to our being.  They are noticed in their absence.

            How could the King expect a guest pulled from the hedgerows to have found a wedding robe in short order to wear?  Likewise, how can the grace of God call us as we are and yet expect such dramatic change in our lives?

            We are expected to change because the Holy Spirit has called us to “put on Christ.”  Our baptismal gown is a wedding robe that engrafts us in Holy Communion with Christ.  We are changed when we come to the table – not because of our accomplishments – but because the power of the Holy Spirit has made us part of the Body of Christ.  The sanctifying power of God is a call to change.


Called to Announce

            “Don’t shoot the messenger,” goes the familiar expression.  Yet the poor messengers of Matthew’s parable seem to gain nothing but trouble.    They are ignored, scoffed at, shamed, and even killed.  In Luke, the messengers are met with nothing but excuses.  Yet still the master sends them out to announce, invite, and even compel by word and deed.  Why does the master keep sending them out from the banquet hall? 

            From the window of my dining room, I look out upon the birds of the air – as I try to gain the wisdom Jesus commends me to notice.  Yet for all the beauty and the joy I gain by watching these birds, I have noticed a primary avian fixation – they are all about the food.  The birds out my window are on an insatiable quest to eat every last seed from our bird feeders.  The feast is prepared and they know it right well.  Even ducks, with no pond in sight, come waddling up to the seeds that smaller birds carelessly toss overboard to the ground.  At least the birds can appreciate a banquet – for them, it’s all about the food!

            But in Jesus’ parable it is not all about the food.  In many ways the banquet seems to be all about the invitation.  Were we to arrive at this banquet, I believe the most important element would not be the dishes or decorations.  It would be the place card prepared with our name upon it.  The invitation – a place at the king’s table – that is what the banquet is all about.  There is a place prepared for us all – family, friends, poor, blind, and crippled.

            Since the banquet is all about the invitation, the servants are sent time and again to announce that all is prepared.  Just as the disciples had gathered in one place for prayer, the wind of Pentecost sent them with power into the streets for proclamation.  In the gospel of Mark, the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus and he was immediately sent into the wilderness and his first spoken words were these, “the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”[18]  The kingdom of God is near – the banquet is ready.  Repent and believe the good news – Calvin says this is what the Christian endeavor is all about.[19]  The same Holy Spirit sends us.

            Presbyterians acknowledge two sacraments because they are the actions Jesus commanded us to do.  We come to the banquet table as Jesus commanded us in remembrance of him.  We then are sent to announce a newness of life and reconciling grace as we baptize in the name of the Triune God.  A calling from God sets our lives in rhythmic motion to and from the table where we are nourished and changed by the grace of God.

DESTINED FOR GLORY

“We begin in the present life, through various benefits, to taste the sweetness of the divine generosity in order to whet our hope and desire to seek after the full revelation of” the glory of the Heavenly Kingdom.[20] 

– John Calvin, Meditation on the Future Life

            Every meal at our table begins with prayer.  While we have taught our children how to “pray in all circumstances,” the first posture of prayer has been to bow our heads.  Then, as each prayer finishes with an “Amen” our heads are lifted.

            The head of a believer is lifted.  The Holy Spirit elevates our vision from the ordinary to the extraordinary.  The “epiclesis” – the bidding of the Holy Spirit – in our prayers of thanksgiving welcomes this vision into our sacraments.

            When believers have “once lifted their heads above everything earthly,” with mind intent upon heaven,

“before their eyes will be that day when the Lord will receive his faithful people into the peace of his Kingdom, ‘will wipe away every tear from their eyes’, will clothe them with ‘a robe of glory … and rejoicing’, will feed them with the unspeakable sweetness of his delights, will elevate them to his sublime fellowship - in sum, will deign to make them sharers in his happiness.”[21]

We exhibit the kingdom of heaven in the Church because we expect the kingdom of heaven at the last.

            Jesus Christ “unites himself to us by the Spirit alone.”[22]  “Faith is the principal work of the Holy Spirit.”[23]  The Church “belongs to the realm of faith”[24] and nourishes that faith with its being.[25]  “The proper object of faith is God’s goodness”[26] and we begin to taste the sweetness of that goodness in the life of the Church.

            At least, that is God’s intention.  Yet all too often, our life together in the Church breeds contention and discord.  We do not eat together.  We do not invite others to our tables.  We do not change our behavior toward one another.  Have we neglected our calling?

            When I learn I will have to sit beside someone at dinner, I become more thoughtful about my behavior.  How might our behavior as Church change if we would not only acknowledge our common baptism but also embrace our common destiny at the heavenly banquet?

            Presbyterians are regularly dragged into conversation about predestination.  Then, our speech often devolves into discussions of who is in and who is out.  Yet would it not be more profitable to consider our common destiny?  If the “pre” of every Christian is being born of water and the Spirit, is not the “destination” of our lives the great banquet feast where we are to glorify and enjoy God forever?

“Yet, to embrace the unity of the church in this way, we need not see the church with the eyes or touch it with the hands. … For here we are not bidden to distinguish between reprobate and elect – that is for God alone, not for us, to do – but to establish with certainty in our hearts that all those who, by the kindness of God the Father, through the working of the Holy Spirit, have entered into fellowship with Christ, are set apart as God’s property and personal possession; and that when we are of their number we share that great grace.”[27]

            Since, “even the best and most excellent plan of the present life is only a progression, we shall arrive at that goal” (of being spotless and blameless before God) “only when, having put off this sinful flesh, we cleave wholly to the Lord.”[28]  This is our destination by the power of the Holy Spirit – to be sharers in the happiness of God.  Shall we not embrace the union we share in Christ and encourage our daily progressions with heads that are lifted and vision that is fixed on our glorious shared destiny?

CONCLUSION

“Let us remember how far the secret power of the Holy Spirit towers above all our senses … What, then, our mind does not comprehend, let faith conceive: that the Spirit truly unites things separated in space.”[29]

            The calling of the Church is born of the Holy Spirit and establishes a glorious destiny.  Our senses are often dulled to the vitality of faithful life in the Holy Spirit.  Yet still the call of the God is gathering us, renewing us, and sending us to flavor the world with hope.  We dare not become salt that has lost its taste.

“The faithful are never reconciled to God without the gift of sanctification – to this end we are justified – that afterwards we might worship God in holiness of life.”[30]

            The banquet is ready.  Let us come, be refreshed, and announce good news to the world.

 

 

 



                [1] Douglas F. Ottati, Reforming Protestantism: Christian Commitment in Today’s World  (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995), 93-116.

[2] Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform, 1250-1550: An Intellectual and Religious History of Late Medieval and Reformation Europe (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1980), pp. 372ff.; referenced in John H. Leith, Basic Christian doctrine (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993),  p. 187, n. 4.

[3] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles  (Philadelphia:  Westminster Press, 1960),  3.1.1, 537-538.

[4] Ibid., 3.3.1, 592.

[5] Ibid., 3.1.4, 541.

[6] Ibid., 4.1.1, 1012.

[7] Ibid., 3.2.6, 549.

[8] Harold Nebelsick, "Ecclesia Reformata Semper Reformanda," Reformed Liturgy and Music (Spring 1984); quoted in Anna Case-Winters, “Our Misused Motto,” Presbyterians Today, May 2004.

[9] Ibid., 4.1.9, 1023.

[10] Ibid., 3.2.6, 548-49.

[11] Ibid., 3.1.4, 541.

[12]  The Scots Confession, in The Book of Confessions, Part I of The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Copyright © 2004 by the Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 3.18.

[13] Calvin., 3.9.3, 714-15.

[14] Ibid., 4.1.6, 1020-21;  Gal. 3:2

                [15] Ibid., 4.1.4, 1016.

                [16] Calvin’s New Testament Commentary Series. ed. David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance, trans. John W. Frasier and J.G.W. McDonald, vol. 6, Acts of the Apostles 1-13 (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1965),  32.

                [17] Matt. 22:1-10; Luke 14:15-24.

                [18] Mark 1:15

                [19] Calvin, 3.3.1, 592.

                [20] Ibid. 3.9.3, 715.

                [21] Ibid., 3.9.6, 718.

                [22] Ibid., 3.1.3, 541.

                [23] Ibid., 3.1.4, 541.

                [24] Ibid., 4.1.3, 1015.

                [25] Ibid., 4.1.1, 1012.

                [26] Ibid. 3.3.19, 614.

                [27] Ibid., 4.1.3, 1015-16.

                [28] Ibid., 3.17.15, 820.

                [29] Ibid., 4.17.10, 1370.

                [30] Corpus Reformatorum, vol. 7, Antidote to the Acts of the Synod of Trent, 448.; noted in John H. Leith, Basic Christian doctrine (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993),  p. 188, n. 9.

Friday, March 8, 2013

#grace precedes #missional

Darrell Guder, an early author on the topic of Missional Church said, “I see the term ‘missional’ everywhere, but can’t always determine what those using it mean.”  He observed, “The term ‘missional’ has become a cliché in an astonishingly short period of time.”  Yet far from being just a cliché, Guder insists that, “mission defines the church."  Indeed it is, "because of God’s mission," that "there is the people of God.”1



Ponder for a moment the mission of God.  Here is one familiar expression of that mission:


‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.  Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.’  - John 3:16-17

That is a pretty powerful and personal mission.  I can say for myself that, on any given day, my failures usually outnumber my successes. Truly, a mission from God sending his Son - for me - well, that is a mission I would call an amazing GRACE.

Yet here I'd like to lift up a reminder that grace is a quality that precedes mission.  As Guder suggested, it is because of God's grace-filled mission that the Church has been created.  Since grace precedes us, it is worth considering the implications of God's imitative for our engagement with the world.

In my Reformed tradition of the Christian faith, God's preceding grace is always at the forefront of our thought and senses.  At baptism we remember the biblical admonition, "We love, because God first loved us."  This has implications for the kind of "missional" witness our Church is called to offer the world.  Rather than being sent as grand conquistadors into a land which needs to be subdued, we understand our mission as a work of interpretation.  The founder of our tradition, John Calvin, could see the handiwork of God throughout creation:



"Meanwhile let us not be ashamed to take pious delight in the works of God open and manifest in this most beautiful theater.  For ... although it is not the chief evidence for faith, yet it is the first evidence in the order of nature, to be mindful that wherever we cast our eyes, all things they meet are works of God, and at the same time to ponder with pious meditation to what end God created them."2

In many ways, the mission of the church is to help the people of the world discover the grace of God that is all around them - even within them!  Reformed Christians are loathe to dissect grace into a taxonomy of disparate parts.  However we do often highlight a distinction between what is called "common grace" and "special grace."3

In the third chapter of his work, He Shines in All That's Fair, Richard Mouw writes that, "If God is glorified by his non-human creation - which seems to be a fairly modest claim to endorse - then it seems reasonable to assume that God takes delight in those non-human created phenomena.  And then it also seems to be quite plausible to assume that God takes delight in various human states of affairs, even when they are displayed in the lives of non-elect human beings."4

This assertion by Mouw encourages us to consider the fact that "missional" Christians should not only point out the grace of God in the beauty of creation, we also should point out the grace of God in the very lives of the people we meet - who may not have any cognition of the saving grace of God.  From this place of spiritual discovery, we are given the opportunity to open the door to a deeper personal understanding.

I love the way that the character Attwater expresses God's grace in Robert Louis Stevenson's work The Ebb-Tide  He says, "There is ... nothing but God's Grace! We walk upon it, we breathe it; we live and die by it; it makes the nails and axles of the universe."  Once we start an astounding journey of spiritual discovery  - the discovery that the grace of God has preceded us and it all around us - a "special grace" begins to dawn in our hearts.

The beauty of "special grace" is that, as Jonathan Edwards put it, "a spiritual [man] loves others as of God, or in God, or some way related to him."  Without the gift of God's saving grace, people may go through life with some sense of how to "love others, but ‘tis someway or other as appendages and appurtenances to [them]sel[ves]."5  The "special grace" of God calls us to our true destiny in covenant relation to God and each other.


All the universe is awash in the sovereign love of God.  Even in hardship, we discover the sovereign love of God is suffering with us as we groan for the fulfillment of a new creation. A "missional" Christian carries the Good News of God's saving grace in a deeply personal way into the world.  

My one reminder to "missional" Christians is this: God precedes us, so be an indicator of God's grace.

#grace precedes #missional




1 The Presbyterian Outlook Sunday, 26 October 2008, Guder challenges church leaders to help define, fulfill “missional”
2 Calvin, Institutes
3 See John H. Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine, p. 221.
4 Mouw, p. 35
5 Edwards, Works 18, 533.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

... and Who is my Neighbor? - A Thought on Immigration

It seems to me that Jesus always encourages us to look beyond the routines and boundaries of our lives.  I am often challenged by what I see.

My wife and I went to the mall a few days ago.  Perhaps I should start by saying, I really don't enjoy going to the mall.  So, to say that my wife and I went to the mall is a significant event.  Even more, we went to the mall on a Sunday.  That is an especially odd event.  Ordinarily Sunday afternoons are an attempt to follow up on some pastoral care and take some needed Sabbath respite from a long day of preaching and worship leadership.

By going to the mall on Sunday, I saw a different clientele than I see on the other occasions I am at the mall - normally my one day off, Thursdays.  What I saw were whole families enjoying the circus of activities, sights, sounds, and smells that fill the mall.

It was also clear that I was seeing people who may work six days a week and only have Sunday for their whole family together.  It was also possible that many of the people I saw were first generation residents of our nation - some may even have arrived in our land without proper documentation.

When you see children holding the hands of their parents, you see people in a different light.

Our nation is embarking afresh on a debate about immigration.  The blogosphere and airwaves are being flooded by statistics and speeches on the dynamics of immigration.  In all of this debate, I find myself considering the challenge Jesus presents.

Jesus is confronted by a clever lawyer who is seeking to justify himself in a story told by one of the gospels, Luke 10:25-27.  Jesus helps the man articulate the fact that our destiny is framed by love: the love of God and the love of neighbor.  In response, the lawyer asks a lawyerly question - "and who is my neighbor?"

In typical fashion, Jesus responds with a story.  The key to the story is found in the eyes of compassion that motivate an outsider to risk caring for a man that others neglected.

Jesus does not say at the end of the story, "the outsider is your neighbor."  Instead, Jesus asks, "who was a neighbor?"  Jesus takes the outsider - the neighbor - and makes us the outsider - a neighbor who acts with mercy.

This morning I heard a fragment of a news story while driving to work.  The subject matter was immigration. Frankly, I was tired of hearing the politicians debate and I turned off the radio before the story got very far.  But one phrase stuck with me, the policy wonk said, "we believe we should send a message," by preventing a path to citizenship.

I think I understood what he meant:  We don't want to make crime pay.  It is a crime to enter our nation without documentation.  We should not reward people who break the law.  Such people should be prosecuted and sent back across our borders.

But after my eyes saw parent and child at the mall on Sunday, I found myself pondering.  Why do people want to come to America?  How hard is it to come to our nation?  As a descendant of Norwegian immigrants, I wondered why we would want to restrict immigration.

Then I wondered, what would cause a person to risk prosecution, hardship, and the loneliness of leaving everything familiar in their family of origin for the opportunity to work 6 or 7 days a week in America?

What kind of message would realistically prevent such a person from taking the risks they currently endure in order to come to our land?

This question caused me to turn the question - not unlike the way that Jesus turned the question about neighbors.

Here is what I wondered next.  How am I called to be a neighbor for people in lands far away from mine?  How can my nation send a message of support that strengthens the health and well being of people who live in far distant lands?

The answer to both of those questions is not easy.  If it was easy, it would have been accomplished long ago.

However I believe the better answer to immigration lies not in messages of prosecution that make our nation seem smaller than we truly are.  I believe that we are required to recognize our global village is closer than ever before.  Every act we undertake to make the world more safe, healthy, transparent, and hospitable is a blessing that fulfills our destiny.

This morning I said a prayer for the families I saw at the mall.  I said a prayer for our leaders who are faced with challenging choices.  Then I said a prayer for myself, asking that God might make me a better neighbor.

... and who is my neighbor? ... Well, ... better for me to be a neighbor.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Leading as an Artisan of Time

One of the most profound dynamics of ministry lies within our structures and shaping of
time.  Read an article I wrote in 2007 for a group of colleagues reflecting on a pastor's life as measured in unites of time: Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, Years, Decades, Centuries, and Millennia.  The article is posted on my WorshipLife.Net site.  You can link to that particular article here: Leading as an Artisan of Time.