Raising the Dead.

            One of the things that Jesus’ disciples are supposed to do is “raise the dead” (Matthew 10:8 & par.)  This seems a little, well, demanding.  Certainly Jesus brings dead people back to life in several cases.  However, literally bringing someone who has died back to life is not something that the church normally considers within the realm of possibility, let alone something it is supposed to be out there doing.  We do not have many examples of this even from the lives and legends of the saints throughout history.  It does happen, here and there.  But we hardly think of this as a mark of the church, as Jesus apparently did.  When John sent messengers to verify that he was indeed the promised Messiah, Jesus gave as proof, among other things, that the dead were being raised (Matthew 11:5 & par.)

            Is this one of those remarkable things that we are to relegate to Jesus alone?  Are we to assume that he does not want or expect his followers today to be involved in raising the dead?

            Jesus did not reduce his language in this case to the literal.  It included the literal, of course, but he also talked about death metaphorically and figuratively.  He would occasionally talk about death as “sleeping” (Matthew 9:24 & par., John 11:11-14).  (Paul talks this way too.  He says “fall asleep” meaning “died” at least 11 times in 1 Corinthians and 1 Thessalonians.)  Jesus has the father in the Prodigal Son story talk about his wayward son as having been “dead.”  But the son was not literally dead; he had lost his way.  He had lost himself, and it is when “he came to himself” that his life turns around.           

            While not discounting the possibility that Jesus means it literally when he tells his disciples, including us, to “raise the dead,” that is not all he means.  We should not consider ourselves off the hook if we fail to accomplish this literally.  For Jesus himself understood that there is a figurative meaning here.  He could also mean to wake those who have “fallen asleep.”

            Neither does he necessarily intend this to be taken simply literally either.  He does not mean go into people’s homes at night and wake them up out of slumber.  “Falling asleep” and “dying” are metaphors for, well, not getting it.  They refer to a state of consciousness that is mired in delusion, futility, absence, and unawareness.

            The great Armenian spiritual teacher, G. I. Gurdjieff also, like many other teachers, understood what we consider normal, waking life to be really a form of sleep, or even death.  The state of consciousness in which we are lacking in self-awareness, and hence thoroughly immersed in the fantasies, fears, delusions, and self-image of the ego, is a kind of sleep.  One popular image for this is that of zombies, the living dead who wander senselessly through the world with no sense of who or where they truly are, and who do violence all the while.  This is especially apparent when we compare this low state of consciousness with more advanced levels of self-awareness.  If we are so captive in “normal” consciousness that we cannot even imagine anything higher, we exist in a living death.  We are zombies.  We are slaves to the ego and its projections, its self-serving narratives, and its terrors.  We exist under the power of fear, hatred, and anger, and it doesn’t occur to us that there is any other way to live.

            When Jesus tells his disciples to “raise the dead,” he is also instructing them to aid people in “waking up” from this state of delusion, and opening their minds (metanoia) to a broader, higher, fuller, and more inclusive perception. 

            Jesus comes into the world and gives us the complete example of what humanity can be, is intended and created to be, if we wake up.  He is the fully evolved human being, a vision of our future, our destiny with and in God.  This is what it means to call him “fully human.”  He is also “fully God.”  But he is not so remote from us that what he does is something to which we may only be spectators.  He calls us, beginning with his earliest disciples, to participate in his life.  He calls on us to wake up.

            Even as he was about to be arrested, his disciples were still sleeping.  They still didn’t get it.  It is not until the resurrection that their minds are exploded and they begin to perceive what Jesus was really about, and how they were called to participate in him, in his life, in his ministry and mission.

            The church is still called to “raise the dead.”  This in truth a mark of the true church, that we help people “wake up.”  Part of our mission has to be bringing people up from this low level of consciousness, which creates a society based on violence, greed, and self-centeredness.  We are called to help people become more self-aware, and at the same time advance of a broader, more inclusive, and higher perspective on the world.  This is the healing of the soul.  It is one of the things the church is supposed to be doing: waking people up from the “death” of unconsciousness and delivering them to new life in the Spirit.

            It is part of the church’s calling that has been neglected.  To say the least.  Clearly we need to resurrect resurrection as a central task of the church.  In my own life I have found two paths that are effective in doing this: the 12 steps, and the enneagram.  (Both have Christian roots.)  The 12 steps program has liberated many people from the bondage/death of addiction, and brought them to new life.  The enneagram is a system of spiritual growth designed to bring people out of the “sleep” or “death” of unconsciously following the dictates of their ego, to a broader, wider, deeper, and higher perspective.  I have written before on how combining the two could be fruitful.  The 12 steps could be used as a way to progress up the healthy levels of the enneagram.

            In any case, “raising the dead” is something the church needs to be doing if it is going to be the church.    

            

Starfish Christianity.

            I just finished a book called The Starfish and the Spider, by Ori Brafman and Rod Beckstrom.   This is basically a business-management-futures kind of book, and most (but by no means all) of the examples in it come from the business world.  The message is that decentralized structures are becoming more normal, successful, and definitive in today’s culture.  Any organization still following the old model of top-down centralization is likely to be in big trouble soon, if it’s not already.

            Phyllis Tickle includes this book in her bibliography of Emergence; that is how I found it and why I read it.  We in the church have a great deal to learn from books like this one.  We have been suffering from the same obsolete ways of thinking and organizing ourselves that are now crumbling and passing into history.  Hence the present situation of main-line denominations.

            The image of the starfish is of a life-form that is so decentralized that, if you cut off a leg, both pieces grow into whole organisms.  There is no “head” which, if cut off, causes the animal to die.  The cells of a starfish are able to make their own decisions without waiting for instructions from a central brain. 

            Brafman and Beckstrom (B&B) also use historical examples, such as why Cortez easily toppled the centralized Aztecs, yet never was able to best the decentralized Apache.  The internet makes decentralization even more powerful.  They explore the now classic battles between record companies and Napster to show how and why this works.

            Anyway, in the church this has great resonance.  Jesus’ original movement had a starfish quality.  Pilate thought he could kill it by cutting off the head… but the movement simply spread. 

            Under Christendom, the imperial take-over of the church, lasting from the 4^th through the 20^th centuries, the church rejected Jesus’ organizational model and adopted a top-down, centralized, authoritarian one.  This persisted even through the Reformation in different ways.  But now it is failing us.  (It failed Jesus long ago, when it allowed and rationalized violence, exclusion, and greed.) 

            Today, with Christendom evaporating, the church can be open to ways of doing things that are resonant with the Starfish ideas of Emergence, and, more importantly, the very similar values and practices we receive from Jesus and Paul in the New Testament.

            B&B give 5 legs of a Starfish organization:

1)  Circles.  Peers gather in groups for conversation.  Sometimes these groups are small.  But they can be extremely large when we’re talking about a group on the internet.  The point is not size so much as the equality of participants.

2)  The catalyst.  There is usually one person who has the original idea and sets it free in the circle for development, elaboration, expansion, and growth.  For Christianity, of course, the primary catalyst is Jesus Christ.  For the ongoing church, the catalyists might be low-profile leaders in small groups.  More on catalysts below….

3)  Ideology.  Basic organizing principles, norms, and goals that unite and focus the circle, usually articulated by the catalyst.  Christianity might think of this as a doctrinal foundation, but that has the danger of making it too rigid and intellectual.

4)  Preexisting network.  Circles don’t work in a vacuum.  They take advantage of preexisting relationships, technologies, and organizations.  Jesus was a Jew working in a Jewish context.  Paul was a Greek Jew who worked within the larger context of the Roman Empire and took full advantage of it.

5)  The champion.  The idea is spread by an energetic, enthusiastic “evangelist.”  If Jesus is the original catalyst in Christianity, Paul is the champion.  (They don’t say much more in the book about the champion, which is curious.)

            The role of the catalyst is important enough that B&B spend a lot of time explaining it.  They give 12 characteristics of an effective catalyst, which I reproduce here with some explanation for the ones that are not self-explanatory.

a)  Genuine interest in others.

b)  Loose (and very broad) connections.  (Ie. a substantial “rolodex.”)

c)  Mapping.  (An understanding of social networks and how individuals fit into them.)

d)  A desire to help.

e)  Passion.  (Cheerleading for the ideology.)

f)   Meets people where they are.  (Not demanding that they change as a condition of participation.)

g)  Emotional intelligence.  (Knows how to forge emotional bonds.)

h)  Trust.  (For the network and the people in it.  Non-controlling.)

i)  Inspiration.  (Being a good example of the principles in your own life.)

j)  Tolerance for ambiguity.  (Not needing to have everything defined and nailed down.)

k)  Hands-off approach.

l)  Receding.  (Able to turn the agenda over to others.)

            As a further clarification, B&B give this helpful contrast between the catalyst and the CEO:

            CEO                                                            Catalyst   

            boss                                                             peer

            command and control                                  trust

            rational                                                        emotionally intelligent

            powerful                                                      inspirational

            directive                                                      collaborative

            in the spotlight                                            behind the scenes

            order                                                            ambiguity

            organizing                                                   connecting

            The church needs to cultivate catalysts.  It also needs to ditch its CEO’s.  Many great and effective pastors have functioned as catalysts in this sense.  These are the folks we need to lift up and learn from.

            I am beginning to envision a “Starfish Christianity” that emphasizes being local, decentralized, flat, distributed, networked, and integrated into the culture.  This means that some common elements of Christianity become more problematic: clergy, buildings, hierarchies, bureaucracies, and so forth.  The Starfish Christianity of Emergence will be small groups, spread out, relating to each other in mostly informal connections; they will gather around the Word in the power of the Spirit, and seriously help each other to follow in Jesus’ way of healing, liberation, peace, justice, forgiveness, and love.    

Creeping Congregationalism.

            Some may remember when this term, “creeping congregationalism,” was a common epithet in Presbyterian circles.  It was usually said with some disdain, like it was an infectious disease, something to be eradicated as thoroughly as possible.  We would roll our eyes over the persistent ignorance of church members who didn’t understand the subtleties and benefits of Presbyterian connectionalism.

            Creeping congregationalism was what we called it when Presbyterians appeared to think and act like Congregationalists, rather than like good Presbyterians.  When members of a congregation think they get to fire their pastor, or that they have the right to sell church property on their own, or that the congregation can vote to overrule a session decision, or many other issues, we could identify creeping congregationalism.  We thought we were defending the unique “middle-way” of Presbyterianism by separating ourselves from, on the one hand, the democratic, congregational impulse prevalent in American culture, and on the other hand, the hierarchical structures by which some denominations, like the Roman Catholic church, are composed. 

            It is no coincidence that Presbyterians did not have a similar name for a creeping hierarchicalism.  Not that we aren’t historically allergic to bishops.  But as the church did actually become more bureaucratic, hierarchical, centralized, and corporate, many of us were encouraged to view creeping congregationalism as the bigger problem. 

            I am frankly beginning to wonder about this.  Especially at the local level, I am starting to ask forbidden questions.  Like: What is so bad about a local congregation having more flexibility and autonomy over its own mission?  Now, no one knows better than I that many congregations are utterly clueless about their situation and future.  There are some spectacular and wonderful congregations out there.  But at the same time, many congregations have no more thoughtful agenda than the vague wish that it be 1956 again.  They generally keep using the same failed programs, continually expecting different results.  They seem to expect ministers to have the power to change reality.  And their main concerns are the building, their friendly social contacts in the church, and keeping everything as it was as much as possible.  I know this.

            But presbyteries are not exactly bursting at the seams with creativity, imagination, and effectiveness either.  If anything presbyteries tend to be even more mired in “the lessons of the past.”  They still suffer from the Presbyterian pathology of imposing on everyone general rules based on a few experienced disasters or feared worst-case-scenarios.  They are often suspicious of change, innovation, and anything different.  Their theological diversity can easily militate in favor of undefined, lowest-common-denominator theologies.  And they can be full of entrenched interests, personality squabbles, and gripped by a palpable inertia.  There are some notable exceptions, but as guardians of standards, rules, and procedures, presbyteries can be very effective extinguishers of the Spirit, especially when the Spirit breaks out in smaller or unconventional congregations.

            We do find congregations that are willing and able to explore change and move in new directions in discipleship.   Even if it means letting clueless congregations continue to be clueless, we have to loosen up our system so the churches that actually want to follow Jesus can do so.

            The current connectional system has failed.  We now see a movement to being more congregation-centric in many presbyteries.  Twenty years ago it was assumed the churches were supposed to support the work of the presbytery, synod, and General Assembly.  Now it is just the opposite.  The point of presbytery is to encourage and resource the mission of local congregations.  Many presbyteries at least pay lip-service to this ideal, even if their thinking and structures are still reflective of the earlier model. 

            Supporting the mission of local congregations is going to have to mean affirming and strengthening the ability of congregations to make their own decisions.  It will have to mean trusting them.  This points to a polity that gives more power to congregations and sessions.  “Creeping congregationalism” is no longer a preventable disease; it is the wave of the future.

            As the post-modern mix resolves into the recognizable characteristics of Emergence, we will see in the church more decentralized, local, distributed, flat, and networked structures, replacing the neat corporate pyramids of Modernity.  Congregations are going to be more independent.  The thing that will characterize Presbyterian communities will not be the presbytery so much as the session, and its representational framework.  Connectionalism will be less vertical, that is, less of a ladder between lower and higher governing bodies, and more horizontal.  The important connections in ecclesial life will be between congregations.

            In fact, the effect of vertical connectionalism is often to pit local congregations against each other for “market-share” and scarce resources.  It encourages denominational “silos,” where we pretend we still have a monopoly on religion in our communities as in the old Christendom model.  In spite of their rampant waste and reduced commitment, larger churches thrive at the expense of smaller ones.  Yet smaller churches consistently demonstrate higher levels of commitment per member.  I know of one presbytery that keeps its per capita assessment low by closing small churches and selling their property.  This sort of thing is toxic. 

            Horizontal connectionalism will see churches working intentionally and enthusiastically together, sharing and exchanging resources and expertise, cutting out the regional “middle-man” and its constrictive, regulatory, competitive, centralized, subsidize-the-wealthy regime.  Larger churches will sponsor and learn from smaller churches.  Different kinds of churches will influence and shape each other in broadening ministries.             

            This increase in congregational responsibility and authority is not identified with either “right” or “left.”  For one thing, chapter 8 (the property clause) is doomed.  The rationale for having “all property held in trust for the denomination” is quickly losing intelligibility.  Why should congregations not be able to affiliate with other congregations that share a common missional vision?   Why should the presbytery, which has done nothing to maintain or improve the property, have a say in its final use?  Chapter 8 represents an obsolete, hierarchical mentality that believed Presbyterian identity was established vertically by strong relationships with regional and national institutions.

            National ordination standards are also endangered.  Congregations are increasingly led by the Spirit to develop and empower the leadership they need to accomplish their own mission.  We already see some standards fraying at the edges with immigrant and non-majority populations.  The kind of license we give to these congregations has to be extended to all congregations.  Standards that actually hinder and obstruct mission will have to go.  We cannot refuse to reach out to this or that group because it offends some people bearing the name “Presbyterian” who may be far, far away.

            Congregations and session will also mess up, often dramatically, if given more responsibility.  But it’s not like this doesn’t happen under the present system.  And it’s not just a matter of weak COM backbones either.  I have seen COM’s received and imparted wisdom fail as well as succeed.  My point is that if giving congregations and sessions more freedom enables a few churches to soar in mission, even if others continue to swirl down the drain to oblivion, it will be worth it.  The worst thing we can do is limp along with the present system.

            There will remain a role for regional networks of churches.  Managing conflict, providing a larger perspective, vetting and training leaders, providing a clearing-house for larger missional endeavors, etc.  But the real action will be, as it really always has been whether we acknowledge it or not, in the congregations.