Okay, we haven’t done this in a while.

I have lots of folks reading this blog who I’ve never met — folks from all across the USofA — folks from as far away as Australia (hey, Wendy). I honestly don’t know how you people found me or what you’re looking for. But I’d love to know.

Who are you? Where are you from? What are you looking for?

Last week I asked you to consider the assumptions church people have about church, and the feedback I got has been very helpful. Jason Harris submitted two sides of the same coin when he wrote this:

Old styles of worship are not effective (don’t flame me)
Change is giving in to culture

Obviously, both of these assumptions say something about how different people view change. For some, change is mandatory. These people sincerely believe that if we don’t change things, we cannot hope to be effective.

For others, however, church must stand in stark contrast to culture. Church should shape culture — not the other way around. These people sincerely believe that change, then, is compromise, and compromise is heresy.

For what it’s worth, Jason, I’m not going to flame you. However, I do wonder what exactly constitutes “old forms of worship”. Are we talking about meeting in catacombs and chanting? That’s a very old form indeed, and I bet it would be pretty ineffective. Likewise, going to Jewish worship gatherings on the Sabbath and trying to convert people to the Messiah — while a practice used in the first century — is probably not the most effective way to witness to your Jewish friends and neighbors.

Here’s the trouble with our attempts to use first century forms in the 21st century: it’s not the first century anymore. We have computers and air conditioning and printing presses and projectors and electric guitars now. It’s futile to pretend we don’t, and it’s potentially irresponsible to pretend we shouldn’t put those tools to good use.

Culture has changed, and we are all embedded within a changed culture. Our forms of worship ought to be authentic to who we are. Some will resonate with more liturgical forms — reading and preaching through the church calendar, singing ancient hymns, reciting creedal statements, etc. Others will resonate with more free church forms — topical preaching, contemporary music, spontaneous responses, etc. I don’t believe church is a one-size-fits-all thing.

The first camp you mention — the folks who believe that old forms of worship are ineffective — need to make sure they’re not just using that as a smokescreen to cover for the fact that they just don’t like old forms of worship. Perhaps their assumption is true; perhaps it is false. But just because something is new doesn’t make it better.

The second camp you mention — the folks who believe that change is compromise — also need to make sure they’re not just using that as a smokescreen to cover for the fact that they just don’t like new forms of worship. Sometimes, I believe, change is just giving in to culture. Sometimes, though, that is precisely what needs to happen.

One of my favorite quotes right now comes from Craig Groeschel. He says, “To reach people no one else is reaching, you have to be willing to do things no one else is doing.”

Beyond that, I’ll say personally: I do not believe the most effective forms of ministry for the 21st Century have been discovered yet. I believe church leaders should work and think and experiment and fail and learn.

One day we’ll figure it out, and the day after we do we’ll find we have jumped the shark and have to start over again.

Update: I forgot to end this post with a question like I usually do! Sorry about that! How does your home church handle change? Does your church assume that change is normal and healthy? Or does your church assume it’s all been figured out already and that change would be compromise? Which way do you lean?

Yesterday we talked about the assumption that Sunday morning assemblies are the most effective time and place for an evangelistic call to a first time commitment of faith.

I think it is generally agreed upon that this is a false assumption. Perhaps there was a time when this was true. And perhaps it is still an appropriate use of a Sunday morning assembly periodically. But, by and large, this is an ineffective practice based upon a faulty premise.

The question, of course, is whether or not leaders will have the courage to stop doing something that doesn’t work and is built on a false assumption.

My guess is that those leaders who are courageous enough to do so already have. The rest will continue to practice it, even though they know it’s dumb. Such is the state of leadership today.

But now I want to shift a little to something Peggy wrote the other day. She said one assumption she grew up with is this: “If I attend Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night and especially if I attend Bible classes as well, I am a ‘good’ Christian!”

First of all, it baffles me why there are still some churches who meet on Sunday night. What could possibly be the point of that?

But let’s probe a little deeper into this presupposition that church attendance and Bible class automatically qualifies a person for “good” Christian status.

Is the assumption really that a person cannot become a good Christian on their own? Or is it that more information is the key to becoming a good Christian? Is the assumption that church attendance turns someone into a good Christian? Or is it that church attendance is the mark of someone who has already become a good Christian?

Thanks for all the good feedback in the comments section of yesterday’s post. I also got some email and some folks left comments on Facebook.

Today I’d like to begin digging a little deeper into some of the assumptions you came up with. And I want to preface this by reminding everyone that our assumptions may be either true or false. Or perhaps they were true at one time and are no longer true now as society continues to change. Regardless, we all have assumptions, even if we think we don’t.

For example, Terry Hanger wrote, “ass/u/me — guess that is why I do not assume anything.”

Here’s my response: Terry, that sounds good. It’s clever and all, but it’s not really true, is it? When you go to that big pink building on Sunday morning, you have certain expectations. You expect to sing some songs — you even expect to stand while singing some of them. You expect to hear a sermon. You expect someone will pray in public. Given your particular heritage, you expect to take communion every Sunday. These are all assumptions (or presuppositions) on your part, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with them. I just think we need to periodically question our assumptions, or at least remind ourselves that they do, in fact, exist.

Matt Dabbs brought up this assumption: “An invitation song is necessary for any worship service otherwise it is unscriptural.”

Matt, it seems to me there’s an assumption even deeper that led to this. The assumptions that drive “invitation songs” or “altar calls” are probably (1) that people should to be given the chance to make a commitment to Jesus and (2) a plenary session is the most effective time and place for this. Therefore, (3) if a community of people is serious about evangelism, they will always offer people the opportunity to respond to the gospel anytime they are gathered together.

Now, do you think those assumptions are true or false? Were they true at one point in time and are no longer true now as society has changed? How can we take the good part of those assumptions and apply them today?

I spent most of yesterday with all the strategic partner churches of North Point Community Church. One of the things Andy Stanley talked to us all about yesterday morning is the fact that we all have assumptions about church.

Sometimes our assumptions are true; sometimes they’re false. But the real problem is that we sometimes forget that not everyone shares our assumptions about church. These assumptions are so obvious to us that we can’t imagine how a person could not share them.

Here are some examples:

Everyone likes to stand in rows and sing.

Sunday morning is the best time to meet.

What are some other examples of assumptions church people have about church?

It’s hot and dry and dusty there in the summertime. It feels like someone’s following you around with a hair dryer blowing in your face all the time. The nearest Italian restaurant was more than an hour away from our house — if you don’t count Pizza Hut — which you shouldn’t.

It’s also flat. My standard joke is that Amarillo is so flat that on a clear day you can see the back of your own head. The golf course I played there was called “Hidden Hills”. And if by “hidden” one means “non-existent” then it was an aptly-named course.

There are some nice people. We made some friends there. There are also some of the meanest people I ever encountered. We got hate mail from church people.

It was the hardest time of our lives. It was some of the most profitable in terms of lessons learned. It almost made me leave church altogether. But it drove me closer to God than I ever was before.

And it solidified my marriage like nothing else ever has.

But, without a single doubt, the best thing about Amarillo, Texas is that seven years ago this morning we were given the gift from God that is Eliza Faith Turner.

Sometimes churches, in an attempt to maintain their holiness, withdraw from the world and become insulated from it — losing their ability to influence the world.

Other times churches, in an attempt to connect with the world, actually become assimilated into the world’s standards and values — running the risk of being contaminated by those false standards and values.

What are some ways you’ve seen churches swing too far in one direction or the other?

How can churches intentionally avoid the extremes?

Most of the time we use the phrase “two-faced” in a negative fashion. It means a person is one way when they’re with one group of people and another way when they’re with a different group of people. It can mean hypocritical or inconsistent.

And there are lots of people in lots of churches who fit that description.

But that’s not what I’m talking about here. I think there is a sense in which a healthy church must have two faces, two sides, two identities.

On the one hand, the church is supposed to be holy, made up of a holy people committed to living holy lives, called out from the world and set apart for a special purpose. It’s supposed to be special and peculiar and different. Outsiders could look at us and think, “Those folks are odd — just plain weird.”

On the other hand, the church is supposed to be worldly, constantly going throughout the world, rolling up its sleeves and getting involved in the pain and mess of others. It’s supposed to be made up of regular people with regular struggles. Outsiders could look at us and think, “They’re just like me — they have the same problems.”

This is what Bonhoeffer (I think) called “holy worldliness”.

But pendulums are tricky things, aren’t they? It’s nearly impossible to keep them from swinging wildly from side-to-side.

Which side of the pendulum do you think your church is right now? Is it more concentrated on being holy and set apart? Or is it more concerned with being connected to the world?

Follow Up Question: In your opinion, is one side of the pendulum better than the other?

Way back on May 1 I started this series on the building blocks of a Christian worldview. I’ve talked about this before. I’ve written about this before. But this time I wanted to look at it from a different perspective; I wanted to think about how Christian thinking is fundamentally different from other perspectives. And I wanted to think about it all in the context of how we as Christians can actively engage the culture around us.

So far we’ve talked about God and what he’s like — about what systematic theology calls “theology proper”. We said God isn’t just interested in “spiritual” or “religious” things; he’s interested in everything. We also said that God isn’t just interested in “spiritual” or “religious” people; he’s interested in everyone. Eventually, we got around to noticing that God is not just a God of mercy and compassion; he’s a God of justice as well.

Then we started talking about us — about humans — about “anthropology”. We noticed that you simply cannot talk about humans without dealing with both their inherent dignity (that whole thing about being made in the Image of God) and their undeniable depravity (that whole thing about how all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God). We also said that humans aren’t just souls trapped inside bodies. Those bodies are important, too. And humans are incurably social beings, so the social networks which they create are important as well. As Christians attempt to serve their fellow human beings, we must reach out to them and work for their betterment in all three arenas: spiritually, physically and socially.

After that we talked about Jesus (“christology”), because — let’s face it — you can’t talk about a Christian worldview if you don’t talk about Jesus Christ. He’s sort of essential. Jesus left the most glorious and, no doubt, comfortable existence imaginable to come to earth where he endured physical fatigue, hunger and thirst, emotional distress, humiliation, alienation and utter rejection. Knowing fully what his Incarnation would bring, he willingly put himself in harm’s way to rescue lost and dying people.

Most recently, we’ve been talking about salvation — about “soteriology”. We said that because humans are more than souls, salvation has to be more than just getting into heaven when we die; it must have implications for the here and now as well. It’s not just a one-time event (we have been saved); it’s also a continuous process (we are being saved); and it’s an eventual destination (we will one day be saved). It involves our ability to live as citizens of the Kingdom of God, living our lives under God’s reign and rule (under the Lordship of Jesus) — even though that kingdom is not here in all its fullness yet but in ever-increasing measures.

So now let’s take this conversation where it must inevitably go: Let’s go to church!

Here’s your chance to sound off (within reason — let’s keep this civil please): What do you like about church? What do you dislike? If you were the Pope (or whatever your denominational or non-denominational equivalent might be) what would you change? What makes a church flourish? What makes a church die? What kind of church do you loathe? What kind of church do you long for?

This could be fun. Or this could be a big kvetching session. Try to save the really negative stuff for your therapist. Let’s try to be productive, okay?

So far, in our attempt to broaden our understanding of salvation, we’ve seen how salvation must not be separated from the kingdom of God. In other words, it’s got to be more than just getting into heaven when we die; it also must include experiencing abundant life in the here and now.

We’ve also seen that we must not settle for Jesus as Savior without also reckoning with Jesus as Lord. In fact, the two cannot be split from one another, because it is as Jesus is Lord that he is in a position to be Savior. Therefore, our salvation must include submitting ourselves to his leadership in every arena of life.

Finally, our salvation must not rest on faith alone (hear me out) but must also come to embody love as well.

Now, I know what some of you are saying. Evangelical Christians have for centuries declared that salvation comes by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. And in one sense, that is absolutely true. Our reconciliation to God is not accomplished through any good works on our part. It is only by God’s unmerited favor (by grace alone), by our simple trust alone (through faith alone) on the sole basis of Jesus’ sinless life, sacrificial death and victorious resurrection (in Christ alone).

This central tenet of the Christian faith must never be compromised in any way.

And yet….

True faith will never remain alone. That is, if our faith is authentic, it will inevitably manifest itself through our good deeds motivated solely by the love of God which we now carry within our hearts.

James says, “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead” (James 2:17)

John says, “If any one of you has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has not pity on them, how can the love of God be in you?” (1 John 3:17).

Paul says, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:10).

Even more plainly – and more to our point here – Paul also says, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love” (Galatians 5:6b).

Saving faith and serving love must exist simultaneously. In fact, when one is absent, rest assured both are absent.

Now, our question today is this: If the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love, why do church discipleship programs focus almost exclusively on knowledge? What might it look like to have a discipleship program that trains people to love more expressively?

Bonus Question: Would knowledge still be an important part of such a discipleship program?