Madison’s question to Matthew: How has the church engaged in issues of justice over time?

Let me begin by stating that I am not a history expert on the church. I have done some reading and am always looking to learn from churches of all types. I always appreciate it when an author addresses church lessons from history, after all, there really is nothing new under the sun, we keep repeating the same mistakes.

From an extremely simplistic view, in the 20^th century, the church in North America spent time dividing itself into two major camps – liberal and conservative. In essence, the liberal church engaged in acts of social justice but forgot about Jesus and the bible. The conservative church embraced Jesus and personal salvation but forgot about issues of social justice. Why did this happen? There are many theories and thoughts. Perhaps each “camp” had some ideas and wanted to prove to the other “camp” that their emphasis was the correct emphasis.

I am often drawn back to Ephesians 4:11-12. Now these are the gifts Christ gave to the church: the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, and the pastors and teachers. Their responsibility is to equip God’s people to do his work and build up the church, the body of Christ.

It is intriguing how churches choose to have specific voices (gifts) speak into their community life yet never really allow all 5 voices to speak.

Most church plants are started by the apostle and the evangelist. Yet, amazingly, once this new church is several years into its journey, those that are part of it want the emphasis of growing in their faith and prefer the teacher. They also have needs that come up and need a pastor/shepherd to guide them. Thus this new church shifts its focus.

And in reality, living with an apostle (taking new hills) can get exhausting. Continually having new people come to faith with the work of the evangelist with all of the mess of new believers can become disorienting for those who are trying to set down foundations of faith. And the prophet, revealing our gaps and calling us to reach out to the disadvantaged can be draining, after all, we’re doing the best we can.

Now I’m a pastor of a local church, and I know that I too am at risk of highlighting one or two voices and not allowing them all to speak – in reality, I have my own leanings because I have been gifted specifically. However, if Jesus gave them all for the sake of the church (this would be the universal church that he is speaking to of course, yet shouldn’t a local church be reaching for the blend of them all), how am I to ensure that we are hearing from them all?

There are a lot of books that come out about how to structure and run a church, and I have read many of them. Each one claims to have the answer, the formula that worked for some church somewhere in North America at a particular time. Having been a pastor for 14 years now and heavily involved in my local church for 14 years prior to that, I have seen many things come and go. In chatting with some church veterans who are 15-20 years my senior, they often smile at the “new thing” that churches are doing, when in reality it is simply a rework of something from the 1970’s or before – there is nothing new under the sun.

One such book that came out was titled “Simple Church.” It was meant to help tired church leaders to have a focus and not burn out. Always a very noble idea, and perhaps many churches are doing a lot of things that have no real purpose to the mission of their church (or any church for that matter). The reality is that spiritual maturity, or discipleship, is very complex. The Holy Spirit is prodding each of us differently. We all have our “stuff” that we are working through. God is extremely gracious and moves in each of our lives in unique ways.

So, as I look at the church and its response to issues of social justice, I think too often it has appeared to be too complicated to engage in, and that the people who are a part of the church want to be cared for with respect to their needs and that there hasn’t been any time to think about let alone engage in the issues of justice. And yet the reality is, we are only going to experience the fullness of Jesus when we choose to accept the many facets of our faith. When we allow the apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastor, and teacher to have a voice in our churches and our lives individually.

As a pastor, I would definitely appreciate having a simpler life, having to only engage in one or two things. And yet, the longer I’m on this journey, the more I realize that we need to embrace the many complexities of our faith journey. It won’t always be easy, but God calls us into this. I know that I have an incredible responsibility to guide the local church that I lead into all aspects of faith. It is my prayer that those I lead will also see the need to engage broadly so that together we show that we are the hands and feet of Jesus.

For the kingdom.

Matthew’s Question to Madison: Why do you want to live in an area of the city that’s often pushed to the side?

My initial response to this question was simple:

“Because it’s just where my heart is.”

How do I explain my heart?

There are many factors, and though I probably can’t explain half of them, part of it can be traced back to my childhood.

I grew up in Guelph, Ontario, and for those first 8 years, I lived the best life. Our family was snug in the middle of a street with four houses lining each side. It was a small street that descended down a hill, bordered by train tracks at the bottom. Beyond that was a forest with a stream winding its way through the lush trees.

Of all eight houses on the street, every home had children living there within five years of my brother and I. We spent a lot of time together. We’d close down our street in the summer to have neighbourhood BBQs, and we’d close down our street in the winter to sled down it. We had a pool and playground in our backyard, and you could find all the kids there in the summer. Our other neighbour had an ice rink during the winter, and we’d all lace up our skates and try not to collide into one another.

But best of all. Every Sunday my parents would whip out the griddle and make dozens and dozens of pancakes. It was Pancake Sunday. All the kids would walk over early in the morning, and we’d all gather around the table and drown our pancakes in syrup. Then everyone would pile into vans and we’d go to church together.

My childhood was the definition of community. We shared so much together. And that’s where I believe my heart for community stems from.

Once we moved to London, I never really experienced the strength and depth of a neighbourhood community like that again.

When I walk into this one neighbourhood though, my heart can sometimes literally flutter because of the community feeling. It doesn’t have any equivalent to Pancake Sunday, or an ice rink to skate on in the winter. It doesn’t have neighbours who always communicate well together or kids who all get along. It’s not littered with wealth (it’s littered with litter), or full of parents who are actively engaged in their kids’ lives.

It’s a place many people would never dare think of entering.

But I LOVE that place.

And it rips my heart to pieces to hear people make negative comments about that place. The people who live there are people I dearly love, and kids I see so much potential in – yet they are often stripped down to nothing because of an outsider’s perspective.

“Well, she’ll be pregnant before 18.”

“He’ll be in jail pretty soon.”

“Oh that school there is a no good place.”

“I would never go there – it’s violent, and I fear I’m going to get murdered.”

My heart breaks just writing those words. And sure, they’re not all word for word things I’ve heard, but it’s the true thought behind other comments.

I’ve spent the last five years of my life investing into this community as an outsider, and I so deeply yearn to be an insider. To live there full time; to have an open door home where it will be full of kids after school; to be able to look out my window to see neighbours sitting on their porch, and go join them; to grow up with the kids as they become youth and the stigma around where they live becomes way more real to them.

Even as an outsider, I still KNOW that community, and I see the potential in my friends and the kids there. I pray for those kids often, begging God to do a good work in their lives despite their circumstances – and to allow me to have a front row seat in the action.

Why those kids, in particular, have captured my heart? I can only give credit to the Holy Spirit. The depth of my love for that community is real and raw – it hurts. I’ve never been in love, but if this is what love feels like, wow!

But I also feel the love of God in a way I experience nowhere else.

I once had a vision of a cloud shadowing over the neighbourhood. But then the cloud parted and a stream of light broke through. The light got bigger, illuminating everything below it.

I then had this gut feeling,

“God’s going to do something wild here!”

When you see and hear God somewhere, there’s no place you’d rather be. It’s captivating. It’s inspiring. It’s life transforming.

It’s something so hard to explain – it just is. It’s just an inner desire, an inner urgency, to do life more closely with them. And though moving there is not my immediate next step, it doesn’t downplay the fact that I desperately want to be present all the time – to be closer to them, and to be closer to God (not because God is more present there, but because that’s where His heart is for my heart to be).