More Thoughts on “The Godblogosphere’s Black Hole”

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Last Thursday’s post, “The Godblogosphere’s Black Hole” riled up a lot of people. Unfortunately, I was unable to devote time on Friday to keeping up with the comments because of a hectic day and more household illness, so I think I’ll say more here.

First, I want to thank everyone who commented. I read every comment even if I didn’t reply personally. Blogging can consume all your time if you let it, so I couldn’t comment on everything that readers said. I hope to cover a few general replies here, so read on if you were slighted and just maybe I’ll ramble into addressing your particular concern.

Second, I’m not down on blogging as a tool. Blogs make dialogue possible. While that’s perfect for heated discussions, I feel we’re thinking too small with that use. I know hundreds of people who are hurting or covering for hurts they feel the Church will never address. I want to address them. I want to find a way to meet the practical needs of hurting people all around, whether they be hurting because of physical needs or hurting because they don’t know Jesus Christ.

Before I get a number of responses saying that someone knows of a church that’s meeting everyone’s needs perfectly, DestituteI would like to add that my own experience as a Christian is that in most of my darkest times I had to tough it out alone because other Christians hit the road at the point of my deepest need. And it’s not just me. I talk to other people all the time who are left twisting in the wind by the Western Church. I would even venture a guess that the majority of people sitting in the pews on Sunday have a viable need going unmet. Say what you will, but this is the Biblical model right here:

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.
—Acts 4:32-35 ESV

There was not a needy person among them. Can we say that about our churches today? Or the Church universal?

Now a complete lack of monetary want may very well be the case in some of our upper crust churches; you know, the ones with the chauffeur’s entrances. But while I did attend such a church at one point in my life, I don’t today. My church is packed with needy people. I suspect yours is, too.

If even one person in our churches is going ignored in an area of need, then we can’t sit back and say we’re doing the job right. Not only this, but I think the Lord would have us expand our notion of what constitutes a lack of need by going beyond money fixes. I know people who are dying for someone to call them on the phone to talk for a few minutes. I know single moms who would love to have a solid Christian man around for her sons for a couple hours each week. I know a family who faced foreclosure on their home because the breadwinner lost his job to outsourcing and can’t find a job to replace it. I know a family that would have loved to have had someone talk to them at the church service this last Sunday. But you know what? In every case that need went unmet. No one called, no one took the single mom’s sons to a sporting event, the family lost their home because no one bothered to help them, and the mom, dad, and two kids that showed up this last Sunday made it all the way back to their car in the far corner of the church parking lot without anyone caring enough to say hello.

I’m sick of those stories. I contend that one of the reasons that Christianity is not growing in the West is because of stories like those. Every year more people stop going to church in the United States, Canada, and Europe. Yeah, even if our doctrine is perfect, our living out the Gospel sure needs a major overhaul. This is the major reason why I’m not going to participate in anymore theological “discussions”—especially ones guaranteed to be contentious. I don’t need a finer point on my doctrinal stance. I need a bigger heart for the needy. I need to put the doctrine I already know into practice or else it’s utterly worthless.

The fact is that if all this truly made a difference to us, we’d go to whatever lengths it took to meet people’s needs. Unfortunately, too many of us simply don’t care because:

  • We’re too mired in our jobs.
  • We’re too addicted to entertainment.
  • We’re too geared up about buying the latest digital camera, computer, plasma TV or other piece of ephemeral electronica.
  • We’re too in love with the world system.
  • We’re too worried about what other people might think if we went 100% counterculture for Christ.
  • We stopped asking God if He wanted to use us in a way that could change the world, even if it meant that we started small by just helping our nextdoor neighbor or the family beside us in the pew.

To whom shall we go? Where is the Kingdom of God found outside of Jesus? Do we need to fill our houses with one more gadget when the money we spent on it could have been better spent funding a dozen struggling churches in Africa? And for all the good that Christian books have done us, why do most of us Christian eggheads need one more tome for our sagging bookcases when we’re not putting 0.00001% of that accumulated wisdom into practice reaching out to the lost, destitute, and broken?

I’m not sure we really believe there’s a heaven. We don’t live like the world to come matters more than this one. If we did, I suspect we wouldn’t be so hot to be on our second generation of iPod or standing in line for the latest digital camera to replace the one we bought just four years ago. We’d be asking God every day how to give it all away until it no longer mattered because it no longer held our interest—instead, heaven was ringing in our ears. We’d be known as people who lived unencumbered lives. As Leonard Ravenhill was fond of saying, it is one thing to say that Christ is all we need, and something altogether different to say that Christ is all we have.

If it really mattered, we’d find a way—even if it meant we had to pick up a cross and carry it daily. Oh wait, we’re supposed to be doing that already. It’s easy to forget isn’t it? Hey, there’s a sale at Best Buy….

I’m working on a Godblogger map that may help us field needs more effectively. I also think it would do a better job of getting bloggers together if they saw how close their proximity is to other bloggers. Still, the point of that map is to make it easier for us to help other people. If we purposefully made ourselves more available, especially those of us who get huge traffic running through our sites every day, perhaps we could become a resource for meeting people’s needs. We have so many strong Christians blogging. I’ve got to believe that we can somehow band together to use all the gifts God has given us to make a difference in the lives of the unheard people, many of whom may be too poor to even own a computer.

We know that the world’s need is great. I believe that the power of God’s word paired with a Good Samaritan’s heart might be the synergy needed to reach a world that is not so impressed with what we say as it might be with what we do. We Christians get a lot of bad press today and I think part of that is reflected in the fact that we’re not as plugged in locally as we should be. Our atheist neighbor may have all sorts of preconceptions about the greater unwashed mass of Bible Thumpers that get in his way of receiving what we have to say about Christ, but I can guarantee that those barriers will come down if we’re the one there for him when he is ill (especially if—as is so often the case—no one else bothers.)

And like I said, that kind of charity begins at home. If we can’t practice it in our churches on each other, then there’s no possible way we’re going to make it work with “scarier” kinds of people out there in the gutters of the world.

Earlier in this post I said that I believed that the majority of people in our pews have vital needs going unmet. I’ve been around long enough to know that this is absolutely the case. If you don’t think that’s true, I don’t think you’re looking hard enough. Many people may appear fine on the outside, but inside there’s devastation that we know nothing about. Some people in our churches possess minds ingrained with the idea that they can’t ask for help because American Christianity states that “God helps those who help themselves.” So they go without, sometimes for decades. I think it is a sad thing to hear from people that they’ve been in various churches over the years and no one ever bothered to lift a finger to help them when they were struggling. I heard another one of those stories just this morning. As long as their need is within the bounds of what I can do to help, I can’t call myself a Christian if I can’t be there for that person. Should their need be beyond what I can do, then I either find someone who can make it happen for them or I throw myself on the mercy of God alongside that person so they know they are not alone. And not just once, but for as long as it takes.

God created the Church to be His chosen instrument to the world. Yes, He can act on His own through miracles if need be, but more often than not, He wants us to do the work.

As for me and my house, we’re rolling up our sleeves.

The Godblogosphere’s Black Hole

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Four days.

Yesterday, I joked about jumping back into the charismatic/cessationist debate that fueled the Godblogosphere discussion during the last quarter of 2005. Now Phil Johnson over at Pyromaniacs, mere hours after I posted my comments on Acts 2, is going to prove ONCE AND FOR ALL that the gifts have ceased. Four days into the new year and here we go again.

All I want to say in response is that my white flag is up—I quit.

No, Cerulean Sanctum isn’t going away. But to be honest here, I really feel like we’re wasting our time blogging if this is the best we can do with this fantastic medium for bringing together great Christian minds. If the sum total of Godblogging is to see who’s right and who’s wrong then we might as well pack it in.

This is not to say that on any given Christian doctrinal topic that some post on some blog somewhere at some time won’t cause someone to change his/her mind. But more often than not, the camps just circle their wagons and pump a figurative QWERTY volley into the other camp. The end product is that everyone gets off a few stingers at someone else’s expense, and like Civil War re-enactors, after a day we pick up our weapons and trudge off the battlefield to go back to being mechanics, photographers, real estate agents, middle managers, and hairdressers.

And what gets accomplished? A whole lot o’ nothin’.

The Godblogosphere trend in 2005 that I most hated to see—and did not witness in previous years—was the increased cutting down of other Christian bloggers, denominations, movements, and so on. How this advances the cause of Christ is beyond me, though. It doesn’t feed the poor, clothe the naked, or visit the prisoner. Black holeI’m almost positive it doesn’t do all that well in making disciples, either. In short, all it creates is a black hole of wasted talents, wisdom, and time.

Some get it, though. The genius behind eBay, for instance, is that it brings together little bands of people in search of what other little bands of people have to sell. Hummel figurines from 1948? Got that. The cigarette lighter from a Mercedes Gullwing? Check. Every day, eBay leverages the power of individuals to make dreams happen for other individuals. It’s the epitome of what the Internet can do.

So is blogging, my friends. When properly leveraged, blogging can bring together small bands of Christians to make amazing things happen. It can truly be an answer to prayer. Think of what a dozen likeminded bloggers can accomplish! It staggers the imagination.

What staggers me right now is how we’re squandering this opportunity on squabbling.

A few days ago, I wrote about Bruce Wilkinson’s implosion in Swaziland. I came right out and asked Wilkinson’s critics what any of them had done to meet the oppressive need of the AIDS orphans in that blighted nation. I had to ask myself that question, too. Such a great need and yet here we are at each other’s throats. My how that must honor the Lord!

Blogging represents a remarkable opportunity to be Jesus to people. Why are we dragging it into a black hole and tossing in all that Christ has blessed us with?

My call to Phil and anyone else out there who blogs or reads blogs is this: Let’s stop one-upping each other so we can prove who’s right and who’s wrong. Instead, why not make 2006 the year that we Godbloggers united in the name of Jesus to make a difference in our neighborhoods, cities, states, countries and eventually the world?

Surely there are people all around us who have deep needs that we can fill if we can mobilize each other and our readers to reach out with an open hand in the name of Jesus. Isn’t that a more God-honoring use of what Christ purchased for us than to ball that hand in a fist and shake it at each other?

Folks, is there anything we can do as a group to annihilate the Godblogosphere’s black hole? I mentioned the failure of Wilkinson’s Dream for Africa project. What can we bloggers and readers do to pick up that slack? Can we pool our collective minds and prayers to help all those kids in Africa? Or is it going to be the same old “I’m right and you’re wrong” crap today, tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that until the Lord returns in wonder at how wasteful we all were with what He gave us.

I’m not arguing doctrine anymore. I’m out. Instead, I’m looking for others who want to make a difference for Christ in the lives of the hurting and the lost.

Good grief! We are so blowing golden opportunities! We can make a difference in the lives of real people beyond filling their heads with more knowledge they won’t use. (I know my own head is full, but I’m not so sure about my heart.) We can meet the needs of brothers and sisters in Christ who are struggling with practical burdens in their lives. We can introduce the lost to Christ (I doubt they’re reading our blogs) by working together to use our connectedness to connect them to Jesus.

Any single moms and dads out there who need someone to watch your kids so you can have a date or just some time to yourself? Are there any elderly people who have housework they just can’t do because they can’t find anyone with a few hours and a strong back to do it? Anyone with a special needs child who is looking for a friend for that child? Any prisoners who need someone to send you hard-to-get Christian materials? How can we Christian bloggers serve you?

As for us bloggers, we could start by putting together a Google map that places each of us and our respective churches on the map. From there we could start directing people to places they can get the help they need. If someone needs a Christ-honoring church, we could direct them to a blogger. That blogger could then pair up with him/her/them at the blogger’s church and start making a difference to real people. This is just one way that we bloggers could meet a pressing need. Millions more exist. Now, when do we start brainstorming ways in which we can reach out? (Any Google Map guru want to take a shot at this or tell me how it can be done? I’m ready to go!)

To every Christian blogger and to every reader of our blogs, let’s utilize this medium to make a difference for Christ in 2006 rather than dishonoring Him by tossing the opportunities He gave us into the black hole of our own petty bickering. It’s amazing what happens when we put down the big guns and start ministering together. Maybe some of our differences won’t seem all that great in the end.

Now who wants to join me?

Hidden Messages of American Christianity: The Outstretched Hand

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This is the seventh (and last) in a series of posts covering the hidden messages that sneak into American churches' proclamation of the Gospel. For more background, please refer to this post.

Though today's post addresses what is a hidden message, I don't have any answers for it. I'm throwing it out there because I hear it all the time. I'm hoping that you readers have more insights than I do. (I'm also going to ask readers to bear with me because I sense this post is going to ramble excessively.)

It's one of the most prevalent excuses I encounter in my area of the country for people not attending church. Men who avoid church like the plague cite it more than any other issue for their lack of attendance, Offering platefrom what I've personally heard. The older the commenter gets, the more likely this issue sticks in his craw.

It's money.

No, I'm not talking about folks who are ticked off that the church is preaching budgeting instead of preaching Christ, it's their complaining about the church asking for money. It's as if no other message can get through once the offering plate is passed. The "There they go again shilling for money!" lament is raised and the sermon message is now permitted to go in one ear and out the other.

"Always with the money thing! Why do they need so much money, Martha? The pastor makes twice what I do and I caught a whiff of Chanel No. 5 on his wife when I walked past. How much does that stuff cost? A thousand dollars an ounce? And he's asking for money? How low can you get?"

Now I'm not naive enough to think that the majority of these grumblers aren't using money as an excuse to sleep in on Sunday or to justify their rejection of Christ. But why do I hear this complaint so often if it didn't carry some actual weight?

At one point in my life I attended a well-known Presbyterian church in the toniest suburb in Pittsburgh. The corporate elite of Pittsburgh occupied the pews every Sunday. It had a chauffeur's entrance. The choir (paid) consisted of the leads of the city opera. When industrial meltdowns and financial strife rocked the area in the mid-Eighties, this church was targeted by activists and their Sunday services disrupted for no other reason than wealth. The church I left last year was suburban, middle to upper-class, and rarely asked for money. The pastor had a hard time bringing up the issue. As a result, this huge church was always encountering one cash flow problem after another. My present church is more rural ("penturbian," if you want the exact, trendy word), is lower to middle-class, has a mini-sermon about tithing shared by one of the elders every Sunday, and seems to do a reputable job staying in the black. Not only that, but every time there is a need over and above the regular giving, people always come through with an amount that surprises me.

I'd love to draw some kind of conclusion about these three churches, but there are too many variables. One never asked for money because it was loaded. One rarely asked for money, should have had it in abundance anyway, but didn't. One talks about money every Sunday, doesn't seem to want for it, plus it always has reserves. No matter the case, money plays into every aspect of how each of those three churches operate. That's true with every church, every ministry. But is there a way to downplay the whole issue of money so that those who complain that churches are only out for money have no more ammo for their assault?

It's Christmastime, so we're now under bombardment by Project Angeltree, Chuck Colson's organization. We donated money to them a few years ago to send the kids of prisoners to summer camp. Christian camping being near and dear to my heart, I couldn't say no when my wife suggested it, even though it violated our decision to only give to charities run by people we personally knew. Starting in September, I swear we get letters from Angeltree every week, plus scores of e-mails.

I'm not the type to complain that Christians are always asking for money, but the sheer volume of mail we get from Angeltree makes me uncomfortable. Whatever we gave a few years ago has been more than eaten up from the cost of their mailings to us.

So I can understand how some people have a problem with Christians asking for money. This isn't to say that money is not needed, but the sheer amount of money that some churches and ministries burn through is incredible. To sustain whatever they're doing, more and more money is solicited. But is this hidden message that churches and parachurch organizations are always on the lookout for cash really a message we want to send, even if it is not entirely true in every situation?

Now I can't speak for parachurch organizations, but I wonder if the way we do church today relies too much on money. I think our buildings are too expensive, not only to build, but to maintain. I don't see in Acts that the early Church spent their money on buildings. Nor was there much in the way of expensive programs and church initiatives. Benevolences were turned around and filtered back to the neediest in the community of believers in the early Church, yet the way we collect church monies today often leaves the givers in the dark as to where their money went. And too often, overhead consumes the majority of money rather than benevolences. Shouldn't we be asking if we're handling money for the Kingdom in the best way possible?

Shouldn't that advise the way our churches are structured and operated? What if a church met in homes rather than an expensive church building? What if the pastoral staff went unpaid (or partially compensated), but was large enough so that one person didn't carry the whole ministry load, each staff member living the life of a genuine "tentmaker"? What if we went beyond tithing and set everything we caretake for the Lord on the table so that anything needed was available to anyone at any time for his or her need? What if the Church functioned to unite giver and receiver personally, rather than having our monies go into an ethereal pool of funds? What if our newfound financial reliance on each other allowed us to step out of the rat race? What if churches didn't ask for money at all?

Most of all, what if the Church handled money so uniquely that it took away any objections by those who believe that Christianity is all about the Benjamins?

I know that Americans are funny about money, but I still hold out hope that one day our churches will look different because we've found a better way to handle it. The house churches in China are destitute compared with the Communist-approved state churches, but somehow they keep growing, effectively making disciples in a way we in America long ago forgot. While there are many mitigating factors in that growth in Chinese house churches, I've got to believe that our attitudes toward money in the American Church are partly to blame for our lack of effectiveness. We've built some fancy churches and installed some expensive programming, but what do we have to show for it?

Is it possible that something better could arise in the American Church if all our money disappeared some day? Maybe if it did, the lost might be able to look beyond the our hidden message of money and to the true heart of the Gospel.