Meet Tony

Missional is a way of being that leads to a way of acting. - Ed Stetzer

What I enjoy about working with young leaders is not only their vision of a transformed world, but also their gumption to move toward that vision in ways that often challenge and stretch me. In 2010, while visiting the Twin Cities, Daleen and I began hearing about a small band of young, idealistic men, who called themselves Ekklesia.

Although most were born and bred in the suburbs of St. Paul, this group of 20-somethings felt moved by God to relocate to a decaying neighborhood called Dayton’s Bluff just outside of downtown. Even though their new apartment was located on one of the most notorious corners in the city, known for its crime and violence, these young men began to incarnate into their new neighborhood. They quickly realized that true incarnation isn’t flashy, but rather it’s quiet, subtle, constant and powerful. Incarnation looks like the Gospel lived out in everyday life.

For two years, these young men lived a life of discipleship, simplicity and shared possessions. Moving beyond their initial fear, they began to live an alternative, Jesus-centered life, seeking to be a constant presence as advocates of the urban poor. The poured deeply into each other, and to those who lived around them. Before long, others from the neighborhood (and beyond) began to join them. The group finally disbanded (on good terms, mind you) when several of the guys left to finish their university/post-graduate studies.

In 2010, as we considered moving back to the States, it was stories like these that sparked our interest and gave us hope. Having lived in intentional community for 10 years, we were amazed that a group of 20-somethings could navigate the challenges of deep community life in a high-risk/high-need neighborhood for such an extended period of time. And it was the opportunity to work alongside such missional communities that was an integral part of our decision to move to the Twin Cities.

Tony

Once we moved to St. Paul, we began meeting people, who were involved in Ekklesia. During our conversations, we kept hearing about Tony, who was a key figure in starting and maintaining Ekklesia. In April of this year, I finally met Tony face to face, and it didn’t take long for us to realize that we had a similar dream – a city transformed by missional bands of Christ-followers spreading through the neighborhoods and networks of St. Paul. As we continued to meet, it became clear that God was moving him to not only partner with us, but to join our staff team so that we could pursue this dream together.

Tony finished his seminary degree in Community Ministry Leadership in June, and just last month he officially joined our CRM team here in St. Paul. In addition to starting Ekklesia, he is on the leadership team of another church plant called The Gallery, where he continues to lead worship on occasion. And, although he has a heart for urban areas, Tony loves fishing, bow hunting and just about anything else that happens in the great outdoors. He describes himself as a Daydreamer, Fence-burner, Wall-mover, Cross-bearer, and Revolutionary.

Over the past 15 years, Daleen and I have counted it a privilege to walk alongside young leaders, helping them grow into the men and women God has created them to be. Therefore, it’s with great anticipation that we welcome Tony to our team as he pursues his dream to re-launch this tight, Christ-centered, formational community in the Dayton’s Bluff neighborhood.

Love Thy Neighbor

“Some neighbors are easier to love than others.” There’s a good chance that those words would have escaped my mouth if I were present when Jesus gave the two Great Commandments, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” It wouldn’t have been my proudest moment, but it would have been an honest one.

Our street.

We love the street we live on and the neighborhood that surrounds us. We have some wonderful neighbors, who live next door and across the street. We even love the close proximity of urban living. However, there is that one house on the block, which sits across the street and two doors down. It’s a rental. There are parties four or five nights a week, which spill onto our street around 3 a.m. with loud talking and occasional fighting. There are people stopping by throughout the day to buy marijuana. The police usually end up being called several times a month. Some neighbors are easier to love than others.

Yes, I’ve called the police…numerous times. Yes, I’ve spoken with my other neighbors about what we could possibly do to remedy the situation. Yes, I’ve silently hoped for an eviction notice. Yes, yes, yes. To be honest, the police are aware of the situation and have an officer on the case, but have not solved the problem. My neighbors yearn for this family to just pack their bags and get out.

Our Neighbor, Julie

Then there is Julie. Julie is a social worker for the county, and lives directly next door to the problem house. Julie is a Christian. On the way back from the bus stop a couple of months ago, Julie told me of her efforts to talk to this family. She is the only person I know, who has actually gone to the family and talked with them face-to-face. She’s the only neighbor that I’m aware of, who has invited this family into her home. And, although change doesn’t happen immediately, Julie has chosen to engage the situation in a direct, honest, hospitable, loving way. As we spoke that morning, I was convicted.

I began to ask myself what it means to love this family. It seems passive-aggressive to talk with everyone on my street but them. It seems futile to wait for the police to “fix the problem.” What does love even look like in this situation? How do I look out for the best interests of my family and other neighbors, yet still love this family? The short answer is, “I don’t know.” What I do know is that in the Gospels I see Jesus loving the “unlovable”  – a Samaritan woman, a leper, a tax collector, etc., etc.

Loving my neighbor is sometimes complex. Loving my neighbor can make me uncomfortable. Loving my neighbor will cause me to risk. Loving my neighbor moves me beyond myself and what I am capable of on my own. Loving my neighbor calls me to be as wise as a serpent and as gentle as a dove. Loving my neighbor is for all my neighbors, and not just the easy ones.

Of course, in the economy of God, the definition of neighbor extends well beyond the people on my street. And, there are times when I am called to move into those situations that are farther from my home. However, I find that I don’t have to look far for opportunities to partner with God in his kingdom work among my neighbors. It often takes little more than walking out my front door.

incarnation

Evangelism is not a word that is used all that much among young adult Christians. As a matter of fact, I find that many young people cringe inwardly when confronted with the word. Social justice, sure. Missional, sure. Loving others in the name of Jesus, sure. Partnering with God in His Kingdom work, sure. Evangelism, not so sure.

I serve as part of the teaching team of Third Way Church, and, as we move into the summer, we are talking about evangelism for a couple of reasons. First of all, it seems as though we need to rediscover the word evangelism. Unfortunately, many have come to see evangelism as a program, methodology or tool (especially of the 1970’s and 80’s).  Rarely is evangelism seen more holistically as an intentional lifestyle that permeates the everyday relationships in the places where we live, work and play. Thus, evangelism is not always viewed as necessary for the equipping of Christ-followers, and for the building up of the Body of Christ (see Eph. 4:11-13).

with our next-door neighbor, Rachel, at the local seedling distribution

Also, we have noticed that most Minnesotans don’t readily invite others into their homes, especially if they don’t have an established relationship. This presents a significant challenge for getting to know our neighbors because most people are holed up inside their homes for five months during winter. The summer months become an important time to establish deeper relationships with people because the days are long, and most people are out and about enjoying the nice weather. Our hope is to establish solid relationships with people during the summer months that will continue inside our homes during the winter months.

The Word became flesh and blood,

 and moved into the neighborhood.                (John 1:14)

Jesus’ incarnation is a perfect example for us as we seek to incarnate into the neighborhoods where we live. Jesus’ incarnation wasn’t complete just by becoming a man, but by being fully engaged in life with those, who lived around Him. In the book of Matthew alone, we can see how this played out in His life: Jesus was born, was baptized, was tempted, preached that the kingdom of heaven is at hand, invited people to follow him, went throughout all of Galilee – teaching and proclaiming the gospel, healed, was with the crowds, forgave, dined with many tax collectors and sinners, prayed, withdrew to be by himself, fed the hungry,  had compassion for people, warned his disciples of insincere religious leaders,  spent time with children, spent time alone with his disciples, touched the untouchable and the sick, allowed himself to be questioned, spent time with the outcasts, allowed himself to be betrayed, allowed himself to be judged, allowed himself to be put to death, was buried, and was resurrected. Jesus fully incarnated into the human reality.

  

So, how do we incarnate into the neighborhoods where we live, work and play? The following matrix has been helpful for me as I think about living on mission in my everyday life:

	Listen	Submerge	Invite
Live
Work
Play

As I begin to listen in the areas where I live, work and play, I find myself asking:  What is God already busy doing? What is really going on in others’ lives?  What would my neighbors consider to be a blessing to the neighborhood? Submerging requires time and margin in life that allows us to go deeper by intentionally seeking others out, and sharing our own life and challenges. And Jesus was the master of the invitation. He often invited others to come and see, or to come and be with Him. He also accepted invitations from others, even when it was socially awkward or unconventional. Daleen and I found ourselves being hesitant in accepting invitations from others, so we have made it a policy to “just say yes” whenever possible.

It isn’t enough that we “moved into the neighborhood,” our hope is to become part of the tapestry that God is weaving together in the lives of those, who we call neighbor. 

Stay Awhile

Last month, the following story was circulating around the internet:

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that 1,100 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by, and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace, and stopped for a few seconds, and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping, and continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally, the mother pushed hard, and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money, but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the most talented musicians in the world. He had just played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, on a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

Daleen and I are working through a book, Practicing the Way of Jesus by Mark Scandrette, with a small group of people from Thirdway Church. As we’ve engaged both individual and corporate spiritual practices, I’ve noticed that these practices serve us in much the same way as the children in this story. Under the direction of the Spirit, our spiritual practices tug at us to slow down, to listen, to pay attention, and to stay awhile. They beg for us to linger in the presence of God, to notice what He is up to, both in our lives and in the world around us. The Spirit is constantly bidding us to live in tune with the music of God’s kingdom.

Throughout this Lenten season, God has been wooing me to savor my time with Him and with others. Woody Allen once said, “80% of success is just showing up.” I sense that there is some truth in this as I pursue greater depth in my relationship with God. In the busyness of life, I find that it takes some creativity, and attentiveness, to make space where I can linger in His presence and quiet myself before Him. Often this doesn’t come in huge blocks of time where I can sit alone in solitude, but rather in the ordinary and everyday routines of life.

The following video will give you an idea of the rich cultural diversity of the Twin Cities:

http://cityvisiontc.org/jam_video_short/streaming.shtml

Enjoy, Bryan

Creating Space and Shared Practices

'Unless you are the queen of England, you probably don't live in a museum. We might visit a museum occasionally or, for many of us, just once or twice in a lifetime. Museums preserve the history of a nation or civilization, displaying the best achievements of artists and artisans over decades, centuries or millenniums. I've always been fascinated by the contrast between the order and prestige of museums - where works of art are displayed in rooms gleaming with marble and stationed with security guards - and the places where most artwork is made: in dingy warehouses in low-rent districts, in studios splattered with paint or piled with debris. The most important visitor to the museum is not the patron or connoisseur, but the artist, in her paint-splattered pants, who comes to the museum to pay respect and be inspired by those who have gone before her. The museum preserves the long conversation about what art is, and the community of artists labor with the hope of making their contribution to this ongoing dialogue, that one day their work will be worthy of display.

For seekers of the Way, the buildings, rituals, documents and theologies of the Christian tradition serve as a rich museum that inspires our efforts to practice the way of Jesus. They remind us that we are part of an unfolding story and an ongoing conversation about what it means to live as "children of light" (John 12:36) in our time and place. But we don't live in museums. The place where we create our "art" isn't in the clean and well-ordered world of books, historic institutions or even public gatherings, but in the grit and messiness of daily life and in our relationships with one another. The question for us is, how will we act courageously together to make our contribution to this unfolding story?' (Practicing the Way of Jesus by Mark Scandrette, p. 40)

building blocks

Last year, my daughter gave me a book for Father's Day called Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon. I'm pretty sure this gift wasn't so much a judge of my masculinity, but more a result of a sale at Borders and the limited budget of an 11-year-old. In any case, the motives behind the purchase aren't important here, but the book is.

In a chapter titled To The Legoland Station, Chabon explores the development of Legos and the freedom of imagination and creativity in children. Chabon points out the simplicity of Legos when he was a child. Squares and rectangles, six basic colors, simple trees, snap-in doors and windows, and red sloping roof tiles. Abstract, minimal, and never meant to be "realistic," we accepted Legos for what they were, a product for our imagination. Open-ended and exploratory.

Somewhere along the way, Legos changed. Now, this shouldn't surprise us because most things change; however, it wasn't only the Legos that changed, but the rules that govern playing with them. A short trip to any Legos store will prove that there are numerous color options, every shape imaginable, uncountable minifigures (Lego lingo for Lego people), etc, etc. Even though such changes are to be expected, Chabon writes that it was the predetermined boundaries and the prescribed formula for play that he resented most.

What used to be basic building blocks for your imagination and creativity to run wild, have now become elaborate attempts to create realism based on predetermined outcomes. Most Lego kits now come with detailed, step-by-step instructions for creating miniature versions of things like race cars, pirate ships and pretty much anything from the Star Wars movies. The dreaming and scheming of working with these basic building blocks has been substituted with the frustration of trying to follow a 47-page manual with no words. And once some of these elaborate things are made, children are cautious in playing with them for fear of breaking them or losing an irreplaceable part.

As I read this chapter about Legos, I kept thinking about church planting. The building blocks for church seem to be fairly basic. I'm thinking in terms of things like prayer, service, care, teaching, fellowship, worship, communion, etc. With basic building blocks like these, under the supervision of the Spirit, the possibilities for how a church lives out its mission within its specific context are endless.

What I have seen, and have been guilty of myself on occasion, is trying to plant a living, local body of Christ using some formulaic set of rules with a predetermined outcome. It's as though we have more confidence in "tried and true" models than in our ability to hear from God and partner with what He is already busy doing. We serve a creative God, who has given us all that we need, but we often turn from the hard work of listening, praying and submerging for quick fixes that boost our numbers and give the appearance of success.

One of the goals of play is to engage the imagination and unleash creativity. Similarly, in church planting we need to engage the heart and imagination of God and unleash His creative Spirit. The substance of church, the transformation of its people and its impact on the surrounding community has less to do with forms, and more to do with heart and spirit. Unfortunately, young church planters often become disillusioned, confused or frustrated somewhere along the way because the reality of what is may not resemble some self-prescribed ideal.

Because of this, our team has made it our mission to walk alongside young church planters as they work out the dreams that God has laid on their hearts. The results may not follow one of the “prescribed formulas” of church planting, but they certainly strive to be in tune with the heart of God, His kingdom and His mission.