Our emphasis on spiritual formation (i.e., maturity) is basic to our vision. If we envision the whole church engaging the whole city with the whole gospel (embodied and expressed), then we desperately need Spirit-filled, Word-saturated, God-centered ministers - the full complement of the body of Christ, fully devoted to the work of God's mission (Eph.4:11-16).
All of the recent talk among church leaders of 'missional churches,' 'missional living,' 'missional spirituality,' etc., etc.,
ad nauseum, at its best and brightest, it seems to me, is simply good ole fashioned, evangelical Christianity, awakening from the semi-delusional torpor of the 20th century that "mission" is something that happens "over there" (and is done by trained professionals and/or other fanatics).
A significant part of this is the rude awakening of recent cultural trends; we Christians in America are coming to see more and more that "we aren't in Kansas anymore." With churches dropping like flies, according to the most recent statistics, and an undeniably escalating ignorance and downright hostility toward the Christian tradition in North American culture, we're now looking across our streets, rather than across the ocean, at a formidable mission field. Is it ripe for harvest? That's hard to tell...
What is good in all of this is the recollection of our purpose as the church. We exist not simply as a gathering center for a largely Christianized population. We must see ourselves more and more as mission agencies - outposts of God's kingdom on the edge of hell (as C.H. Spurgeon and other evangelical preachers and evangelists so clearly saw and taught us over a century ago). Each generation is only one step away from total apostasy (Jdg.2:10). And it seems we just might be crossing that threshold now. Are we simply coasting on a bygone, enculturated Christianity, which is quickly crumbling away all around us? Is the spiritual death of Europe our doom as well?
Whatever lingo we use, it is clear that the church must remember its identity and purpose. We are the people of God - holy, set apart - a royal priesthood, called to proclaim his praises in the world. But, man, it's hard. The American experiment has just been so stinking successful - the dream has more or less come true for the vast majority of us. Life in America is comfortable, safe, and functionally independent (i.e., self-sufficient, self-perpetuating, self-directing). In popular parlance, "we're good, thanks." We have to a great extent realized the postmillennial visions of our colonial fathers, and established a heavenly kingdom on earth. It has become a sort of secularized paradise, in which cultivating a truly spiritual life is increasingly difficult (cf. Craig Gay,
The Way of the (Modern) World). (The irony of all this is that I complain as I sit in an air-conditioned Starbucks, sipping expensive coffe, on a new laptop computer in a comfortable chair.) Of course, we know that it can't last forever. Yet, we are constantly being lulled into thinking that it will (e.g., "don't worry, gas prices will even out," "the stockmarket will eventually recover, and your Roth-IRA will be fine," etc.). This is the essential apostasy of the world (2Pe.3:3-17): everything will go on as it always has...forever and ever, world without end.
In the midst of such ease, and the seeming normativity of middle-class comfort and convenience, how do we remain realistically connected to the vital, pressing mission God has given us as his people?
How can we stay awake (cf. Eph.5:6-17)?
