The Missional Conversation: On Green Lights and Red Flags

Over the past several months I’ve blogged about kingdom/mission/social justice issues more than any other set of topics. I’ve been trying to learn and sharpen my thinking.  I’m in the process of reading a stack of mission and missional books. I’m trying to understand the conversation: where do I see green lights and where are the red flags?

In the intra-evangelical discussion about what is the mission of the church there are unhealthy extremes we can all recognize. “Ah, let it all burn up. Who cares about food and water for the poor? Who gives a rip about HIV? Give ‘em the gospel for the soul and ignore the needs of the body.” That’s one extreme. Likewise, I think we can admit this is careless too: “Sharing the gospel is offensive and to be avoided. As long as the poor have job training, health care, and education that’s enough. The world needs more food not more sermons.”

But on a good day the best representatives from both sides make valid points.

For example, here’s what one side wants us to hear:

When you love, you love the whole person, right? So why do so many churches seem disinterested in the human problems in their community and around the world? Didn’t Jesus heal the sick? Didn’t the Good Samaritan help the beaten man just because it was the neighborly thing to do? He didn’t give him a gospel tract first. Look, I’m in a city with crime, homelessness, poverty, broken families, and a failing education system. If we love God and we love people, how can we not care about these problems? Yes, I want to see people come to know Christ. People need the gospel more than anything else. Hell is real. They need reconciliation with God above all else. But they also need food and a job. Christians should care about these needs too. We are supposed to seek the peace of the city. Therefore, our vision needs to be bigger than providing a safe church for middle class people to have a safe experience of God so they can drive back to their safe neighborhoods and ignore a world of problems around them. The Bible has too much to say about loving the poor and caring about justice for us to simply save souls. Heaven is not a place for ghosts to fly around. It’s an earthly place with resurrected bodies where matter matters. We don’t reflect the reality of heaven if we turn a blind eye to the flesh-and-blood world in which we live.

Granted, this doesn’t say everything the missional side wants to say or in the way they might say it. But to the degree that this (the above paragraph) is your concern, I’m right with you. We should do good to all people (Galatians 6:10) and love our neighbors as ourselves (Matt. 22:39).

But I also sympathize with what I hear (and have said) on the other side:

Yes, we agree that the Christians should love people in word and deed. We too want to see our communities flourish. We think it is good and right to support relief work in Haiti or build an orphanage in Africa or repair a park in our city. But we are jealous not to lose or de-emphasize in any way what makes the church unique. The goal is not to make the world honor us for our good works, but honor God in their hearts. There are any number of institutions or humanitarian organizations or even members of other religions devoted to the problems of poverty and suffering. But what about eternal suffering? Who will give the perishing the words of life except the church? If we truly love people we will share the gospel and disciple them in Christ. Of course we want the peace of the city. Who wouldn’t? But biblical shalom is not simply human flourishing, it is also, and irreducibly, faith and repentance. There is no kingdom without worship of the King. Besides, we aren’t going to change the world or transform the culture, at least not by our efforts and strategies. It’s too complicated and we’re too ignorant. Only God builds the kingdom. The church is not the custodian of the culture. The church’s role is to be the church. This means preaching and sacraments, discipline and membership, and displaying a counter-cultural community. We’ll influence the world, but do so as we live our regular lives, pursue our specific vocation, and love the people as God puts in our path. So absolutely I want to help people. But the church can only do so many things. And the main thing we must do is testify to the work of Christ and raise up disciples of Christ.

I know there are all sorts of differences that still exist, and I don’t claim to be mediating some third way (you know how I feel about third ways), but I would hope that most evangelicals could agree with both of these paragraphs. The difference is some of us want to say, “Yes, but…” to the first paragraph and others want to say “Yes, but…” to the second.

One side fears careless, loveless indifference to the problems and potential opportunities all around us, a dualistic disregard for the whole person.

The other side fears overly optimistic (and exhausting) utopian dreams, a loss of God-centeredness, and a diminishment of the church’s unique and urgent message of Christ crucified for hell-bound sinners.

Both are real dangers.

What is the way forward? Well, I believe the Great Commission is the best summary of the mission of the church, and this puts the emphasis on proclamation and disciple-making. But a healthy church will also be growing in love, love for God, for each other, and for the world.

So in the end I think there is a lot the best representatives of both sides can agree on. Surely we can agree that a church which believes in the centrality of preaching and the necessity of gospel proclamation, a church which refuses to water down the offense of the cross and the reality of hell, a church that demonstrates compassion for the suffering, a church burdened with an anguish for the lost, a church with a heart for the city and a zeal for the glory of God in all things for the joy of all peoples—surely we can agree this is a good church.