Because it is so easy to fall into this pattern of ministry, The Equipping Pastor: A Systems Approach to Congregational Leadership by R. Paul Stevens and Phil Collins ought to be required reading for anyone involved in church ministry. Drawing on systems theory and family systems theory, Stevens and Collins repeatedly remind ministers to operate out of an awareness of and with attentiveness to both the “one body” and the “many parts.” Such an approach to ministry begins with a minister making an intentional commitment to join the body with which he or she is working. Having joined the church, the minister can then work to cultivate in the members of the congregation an interdependence characterized by the valuing of both unity and diversity. As the members of the church become interdependent upon one another and on Jesus, the head of the church, the minister can attend to leading “the process by which people find their maturity in their life together in Christ” (41). By giving themselves to the more manageable task of leading the process rather than leading each individual person, ministers preserve the time and energy to be attentive to the subsystems in the church (both structural and functional) and to the development of each member into a community of people, the body of Christ. It is important to recognize, however, that a minister’s success in developing such a community is predicated largely upon the fit of his or her leadership style with the style to which the church is prepared to respond at a given point in its history. Sometimes this may necessitate the minister’s adopting a different leadership style, but other times it may necessitate the minister transitioning to another congregation so that a more compatible minister may join the church.

While the case for taking a systems approach to ministry is convincing in and of itself, Stevens and Collins aren’t simply interested in such an approach for its own sake. The book culminates with a challenge from the authors for ministers to use this systems approach to ministry as a jumping-off point from which to liberate and empower the laity for mission. Thus, in the final chapter of the book, ten principles from the preceding material are highlighted and then applied toward the end of liberating and empowering the laity for mission.

In this era of one-size-fits-all instruction manuals for church leadership, church-in-a-box congregations popping up all around, and a childish rejection of theory in favor of all things practical (as though theories and practicality are somehow mutually exclusive), a nearly 20-year-old book that offers no solutions, no step-by-step directions, no money-back guarantee, and values theory is likely to be ignored by many. But ministers who recognize that each church is a unique context that requires thoughtful engagement and intentional, contextual leadership will benefit greatly from the wisdom of Stevens and Collins. Their perception into the systemic life of the church will be sharpened. Their ability to keep the one body and the many parts developing toward maturity will be strengthened. Their ministerial imagination will be ignited by the on-the-ground examples given in the book and liberated by the systems approach to ministry. In short, they will have been equipped more than adequately to become successful equippers themselves.

The last couple months have been a whirlwind as we’ve tried to prepare for our transition, so I am way behind writing and posting my thoughts on the final chapter of Christian Scharen’s outstanding new book Broken Hallelujahs: Why Popular Music Matters to Those Seeking God. Nevertheless, here’s the final installment. Thanks again to Chris for providing a copy of the book.

Chapter 7 of Broken Hallelujahs (“Practicing Surrender”) is aptly named, as it turns from a proposal of a way to counteract the constricted imagination to the working out of that proposal in relating to popular culture. While Scharen acknowledges the value and importance of Andy Crouch’s call for Christians to make culture in his book Culture Making, he emphasizes that his purpose is quite different. There is a time and place for Christians to make culture, but there is also a time and place for Christians to learn to discern the cries being raised throughout the culture. Whether they appear to be “Christian” or not, the testimony of scripture seems to suggest God is present both in the cries and with those raising them (think for instance of Amos 9:7, in which God speaks through Amos to tell the people of Israel theirs are not the only cries to which God has responded by performing an exodus). Here Scharen makes perhaps the most challenging claim of the entire book: that “cultural creations cannot be Godforsaken” (142). While this may be exceedingly difficult to swallow at first, is it not in response to the most hopeless cries (of the slaves in captivity in Egypt, of the exiles in a foreign land, of a homicidal zealot of his faith) that God responds in significant ways? If we shelter or protect ourselves so as not to hear those cries, what hope do we then have of responding in God’s name or on God’s behalf?

Having made his strongest case for practicing surrender in relation to popular culture, Scharen takes turns reflecting on three cultural offerings which would typically be labeled “secular,” demonstrating how each can enrich the ability of Christians to live faithfully in the world. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series becomes for Scharen and his family a window through which to see lived out some of the deepest Christian values, such as self-giving love. The music of Sigur Rós provides through its musical soundscape a glimpse of the kind of beauty and majesty in which the Bible repeatedly insists God is interested. Lastly, the prophetic lyrics of Arcade Fire “[open] up avenues of reflection on some of the issues that matter most in life–who we serve with our lives, how we live, love, and create with the gifts we have been given, and what is worth fighting for and against” (155).

Regarding this final chapter, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I wish Scharen had chosen for reflection cultural offerings in which it might be more difficult for the average churchgoer to find anything “good.” As best as I can tell, there aren’t many Christians who would object to listening to the music of Sigur Rós or Arcade Fire, and while there are certainly more who would object to reading the Harry Potter series, they tend to be an extreme minority. Far more Christians, however, would object to listening to rock bands that occasionally employ “explicit” lyrics or reading books that describe more “explicit” acts. It might have been helpful, then, for Scharen to reflect on a band or a book that would be the subject of more widespread objections. On the other hand, my sense is that if Scharen’s approach to remedying the constricted imagination is to take hold, it will be a gradual process, and many readers might need to be eased into this approach by way of rather non-controversial cultural offerings. In choosing this approach, I believe we get a glimpse at Scharen’s pastor’s heart, which seems truly to long for all Christians to reject the constricted imagination for an imagination that can handle anything and everything popular culture has to offer. And indeed, having been shaped by the book, I feel I’m more equipped than ever to answer the calling of God as Scharen put it so wonderfully at the end of the first chapter: “God calls us to join in as broken-but-beginning-to-be-healed coconspirators in the great unfolding of our lives in God” (25).

After making our announcement, I continued to work through the end of April in an effort to ensure that the transition would be as smooth as possible for the Hohenwald Church. During that time, we’ve been extremely busy preparing for our transition: cleaning out my office, packing up our house, making the various arrangements that go into an interstate move. Since concluding my work in Hohenwald, we’ve moved on to house hunting in Tyrone and enjoying a few days at the beach. We’re now visiting dear family and friends we rarely have the opportunity to see.

In the meantime, I’m carving out time to pray about and begin planning for our ministry with the Southern Crescent family. I’m thankful for friends and mentors with whom I can share conversation and from whom I can receive wisdom as I prepare for this next phase in my ministry. Likewise, Mindy, Carson, and I are thankful for family and friends who are refreshing us so that we will be rejuvenated and reenergized as we begin this next phase in our lives and our ministry as a family.

We are incredibly excited about the opportunity that is before us as we partner with the Southern Crescent family. We are filled with anticipation for the new relationships and friendships we’ll make, the opportunities we’ll have to serve together, and the ways God will shape us as we follow Jesus together. We appreciate your prayers as we try to follow faithfully the leading of God into new territory.

During the remainder of our transition period, blog posts will be rather sporadic (as they have been over the last month and a half). I’ve got a few new reviews I’ll be posting and may post an occasional reflection. Once we get settled into our new context, however, I’ll resume more regular posting.

We are children today of many mothers,

some of us grateful and glad,

some of us cynical and defeated,

all of us living lives that are pure gift

from you and for you.

As we give thanks for our mothers,

so we think of children whom you treasure

and invite close in.

For newborn babies arriving in these restless days,

for children loved and lost awhile–

Joshua, Charles, Michael, Sophie, and a world of others,

for children born feeble and troubled

and loved in their need,

for children infused with napalm and

shrapnel and hate and fire,

for children who know the sharp edge of Pharaoh and Herod,

and a thousand other uneasy men of force.

In the midst of this parade of innocence,

we submit all the treasured children of the world to you,

that they may prosper, and that we may become more fully

your daughters and sons,

children of your commandments,

recipients of your gifts,

bearers of your hope.

You have said, “Let the little children come.”

Here we are–yours . . .

that we may receive your nurture

and your discipline.

On this day of internal revenue

some of us are paid up,

some of us owe,

some of us await a refund,

some of us have no income to tax.

But all of us are taxed,

by war,

by violence,

by anxiety,

by deathliness.

And Caesar never gives any deep tax relief.

We render to Caesar . . .

to some it feels like a grab,

to some it is clearly a war tax,

to some–some few–

it is a way to contribute to the common good.

In any case we are haunted

by what we render to Caesar,

by what we might render to you,

by the way we invest our wealth and our lives,

when what you ask is an “easy yoke”:

to do justice

to love mercy

to walk humbly with you.

Give us courage for your easy burden, so to live untaxed lives.