This morning our small church will be presented, for approval or disapproval, with the nomination of me for church leader.

A while back I wrote about the restructuring of the church, about the two proposals for its ongoing leadership setup. My favored proposal, for the church to be a “house church with a building” without paid leadership and led by a team of five “go-to” people, was not chosen. Instead, the structure temporarily in place since our last minister left was affirmed as permanent: one or two paid ministers sharing a quarter-time position, one or two people sharing treasurer/secretary duties, and a church leader.

While I’m still discouraged that the more radical framework was rejected, I decided it wasn’t a walk-out-worthy disappointment, and now I may even become a player in a game board design I would have gladly abandoned.

That said, as I responded to the current church leader (who is also one of the pastors) who contacted me about the nomination, “I’m willing” to be the church leader. I tacked on to my response a question: What does church membership entail? His response was the church’s membership policy, which just maybe allows for enough wiggle room for my lack of conviction on certain matters, seeing as how the devil’s in the details:

1.Membership is open to all those who have accepted Jesus Christ as personal Lord and Savior (when I was very young I think I tried this a few times); who have been baptized upon confession of faith (I did this when I was, I think, 14); who commit to be disciples of Jesus Christ and follow his teachings in all aspects of life (I’m not sure I’m this confident in my commitment, but it’s a good goal);

2. who are willing to worship (a vague idea, interpretable in many ways, so okay), serve, give and receive counsel, and share in the ministries of the church (as long as I think the ministries are worthwhile, right?); and

3. who are in general (very general, perhaps?) agreement with the denomination’s confession of faith(made up of majestic statements, most of which I probably agree with, some I definitely don’t agree with, and the rest I don’t find relevant, worthwhile, or in my place to say, considering I’m just a cosmic peon).

4. Membership is gained through one of the following: believer’s baptism (did it once/haven’t renounced it), confession of faith for those previously baptized (Can I make up my own?), or a letter of church membership transfer (aha! a doable transfer of paperwork). Faithful attendance (at least three worship services per month) for a minimum of six months must be maintained prior to consideration for membership.  Acceptance for membership by the congregation is obtained after counseling with the pastor, and recommendation by the Church Leadership Team to the congregation at a regularly scheduled worship service (all fine and dandy).

Our small country church of 25-30 is in the process of deciding what sort of organization to be. This coming Sunday we’re hoping to settle on one of two possible structures, one involving a church leadership team of three plus two paid one-eighth-time pastors, and the other something M and I have been cooking up for a while. I’ll keep you posted about which model is chosen.

Here’s the proposal M and I sent out this week:

A small church like ours may be well-suited to guidance by lay leaders who share the workload with other members. Here is the makeup of a five-member Church Leadership Team as I envision could be very suitable for us considering our size and giftedness:
1. Church leader: This person guides the CLT, calls leadership and congregational meetings, and is the “go-to person” who knows where to point people for help in their various needs. This person–or a willing designee–could be the liaison to the conference.
2. Worship/teaching coordinator: This person provides focus to study themes/topics and coordinates worship schedules, enlisting the help of interested others.
3. Facilities manager: This person coordinates building and grounds maintenance, enlisting the help of interested others.
4. Secretary/treasurer: This person maintains church records and finances, enlisting the help of interested others (as needed).
5. Congregational caregiver: This person coordinates the church’s responses to needs that arise, enlisting the help of interested others.

Original term lengths could vary so that term end dates and subsequent terms are staggered.

CLT members are NOT expected to do all the work in their area of expertise. Rather, while as church members they certainly are invited to chip in with the work, as CLT members they are primarily coordinators and responsible for delegating tasks to willing volunteers. (For example, if a person is hospitalized, the congregational caregiver might send out a request to everyone to provide visits, meals, etc. to the hospitalized person and family, establish a schedule for those willing to participate, and sign up him/herself to take a meal.)

For meeting the occasional, larger need–such as a funeral or wedding–the CLT would need to meet together to plan and then pull in other members (or even outside support?) to help with the church’s response. Certainly this would require much of everyone involved (although many hands make light work).
All of this said, a leadership structure like this–and a church our size–can support only so much large programming. Even with a 1/4-time pastor (or two 1/8-time pastors), our church is not/would not be equipped to provide large-scale operations (such as larger funeral services/weddings or large Bible school sessions like those that some churches offer) or be fully involved in all that our church district and conference have to offer. We just may have to accept and act creatively within our limitations.

In general, there would need to be an understanding that if no one steps up to do a task, it may not get done–which may indicate that it’s not of utmost importance. We may also need to establish a relationship with our conference overseers that will enable their participation in our church’s times of particular need and allow us to help meet the conference’s needs to the degree we are able.

In Mark 3 Jesus brings up blasphemy, that “eternal sin,” as he calls it. This has always been troubling for me–eternal sin? Blasphemy may be more down-to-earth, though, than I thought before reading this chapter more closely. Maybe blasphemy is about the hard hearts of legalism, of doctrine, and of control. And it’s a fundamental problem when it comes to following Jesus.

At the beginning of Mark 3, knowing that he is under scrutiny and that leaders are out to get him, Jesus rises to the occasion and yet again scores with yet another discussion opportunity for the people gathered round: “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But the people around him, at least those who want to trip him up, won’t even engage in his conversation. They stonewall. Angered, Jesus heals the man. Apparently, doing good supersedes any inhibiting interpretations of the law.

The hard heart of legalism must yield.

Then. As Jesus responds to the needs of the crowds flocking toward his sensational healing powers, demons call out that he is the Son of God. But Jesus tells them to be quiet. Why? Does he not want his true identity to be known? Is he just too busy to get into a theological debate? Is the demonic “confession” that he is the Son of God actually a sly attempt to create doctrinal division so that hearts can be hardened and the good news and works of Jesus forgotten?

The hard heart of doctrine must yield.

After Jesus goes to the mountain and chooses his disciples, he returns home. When the crowds practically mob him, his family try to restrain him. They are probably thinking, “Jesus is going to get sick or killed, with all this work and debate swirling around him. He’s not even eating or resting!”

However, instead of listening to his family, Jesus responds to some burning criticism, suggestions by some scribes in the crowd that he must have authority to cast out demons because he is in league with Satan. Jesus responds to this with a question: “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself,” he says, “it cannot stand.”

It makes sense, right? That Jesus is not Satan? But I’m not sure that that’s all that Jesus is saying here. Maybe he is also implying that God’s kingdom can be divided, too–that the “strong man” whose house is plundered describes God’s kingdom, too.

But that would mean that someone must be able to tie up God!

What in the world could possibly bind God? Can God even tie a knot strong enough that God can’t break free from it? Nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate us from the love of God. Right?

Wrong. Something can bind God so that the house of God can be plundered. We can. We can bind God.

Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”–for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”

What is blasphemy? Jesus said there are different kinds, some forgivable. The “eternal sin” kind of blasphemy to me sounds more like the dictionary definition “the crime of assuming to oneself the rights or qualities of God.” I would frame this as the crime of insisting on our own, personal authority to dismiss God’s abilities or God’s messenger–the Holy Spirit–as irrelevant or even unclean, as way beneath our own, clean status.

Blasphemy, then, is getting in the way of the Holy Spirit’s work–and of course that, as Jesus says, is an eternal sin. It binds God into our eternal separation from God.

How do we bind God? Through hard hearts of legalism? Through hard hearts of doctrinal supremacy?

What about the hard hearts of control?

Near the end of Mark 3, Jesus again resists distraction from his calling. This time the distraction comes from his family, who say, “Hey! You’re ours! Come home!” Maybe they are concerned about Jesus. Maybe they are embarrassed by him. Maybe they just want to show him that as their son and brother he must be accountable to them.

Now, I’m all for looking out for family–and so was Jesus, who condemned acts of charity to the detriment of one’s relations. But no one–related to us or not–can legitimately control the Holy Spirit’s direction. The breath of God will make it windy where it will. For anyone to even try to corral that spirit is blasphemy.

The hard heart of control must yield.

One more thought about blasphemy. Jesus called blasphemy against the Holy Spirit “eternal.” But maybe his “eternal” does not mean “forever.” I like to think of it as perpetual–for as long as we continue it. If it is ongoing, it is eternal. When we end it, however, it ends. We can stop resisting the Holy Spirit and once again join with God.

In a sense, I suspect that Jesus feels in Mark 3 that he is constantly dealing with blasphemy. He is continually up against the hardness of hearts. This hardness of hearts would choose legalism over healing, would insist on theological debate rather than true discipleship, and would attempt control instead of obedience.

Confronting our own ways of blaspheming against the Holy Spirit is hugely consequential to our lives as followers of Jesus, because the good news in Mark 3 hinges on our openness to the Holy Spirit.

The good news is that Jesus welcomes us; he includes in his family all people who do his will.

But this will is not dictated to us through laws or doctrine. In Jesus’ kindgom, legalism, doctrinal infallibility, and human directives become less–and the quiet guidance of the Holy Spirit becomes integral.

“Whoever,” Jesus says, “does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

“Whoever,” Jesus says, “does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Adapted from John 20 (The Message):

CHARACTERS:

This morning in church M wrote a note to me about the lectionary reading Jesus Annointed at Bethany: “Maybe Mary was in love with him.”

I whispered back, “Or else his feet stank. She was at them enough, don’t you think?”

Then I remembered the story of Ruth and Boaz, where Ruth initiates courtship with Boaz in a customary show of humility (see Ruth 3) by lying down at his feet. Is this what Mary of Bethany was doing with that expensive perfume?

If this sounds like the stuff of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, along the lines of Jesus and Mary Magdalene as a couple, I wouldn’t know it–I haven’t read the book. But Wikipedia suggests that not everyone believes that Mary of Bethany–Lazarus’s and Martha’s sister–and the demon-possessed Mary Magdalene were the same lady.

Maybe M’s is a different love story supposition.

Last Sunday’s discussion time at church revolved around idolatry.

“Isn’t it idolatry when something controls you?” someone asked.

“No,” I said. “That’s addiction.” I’d just finished off a mug of coffee that I’d filled half from the decaf pot and half from the regular pot before learning that both pots were fully regular. “Idolatry is more about ‘I’ and ‘do’–it’s when we try to control something, to do something we want. I sometimes find myself idolizing my house projects, and fretting about the $50,000 I don’t have to do them with. I think that’s my idolatry. So I’m thinking about playing the lottery.”

“If you don’t play, you’ll never get the chance to lose,” someone said.

“Is it idolatry that I like to read the news on the computer every morning rather than reading more from the Bible?” someone else said.

“Why are computers so appealing–even addicting?” I said. “Because we can control our ‘existence’ on them so thoroughly. We are in charge when we’re in our virtual worlds. We pick the news outlets and expect to get what we want immediately and even effortlessly. We edit our photos so they look how we want them. We’re in charge.”

Then someone mentioned idolizing Jesus, and I just had to jump in and keep on going: “That’s the problem with religion–we try to control Jesus. We idolize him, and try to make him ours and in our image.”

Tomorrow: Sunday. More coffee.