Happy August and welcome to our new subscribers. Thanks for coming along for the ride!
At the moment, we’re exploring “The Great Omission” - the condition of modern Christianity in which we talk about making disciples but struggle to do so. To do that, we’re exploring the human heart and the drivers of culture through an unorthodox view - the lens of “ideas.”
If you’re new or want to review some of the earlier posts related to our journey, start here and move ahead as you see fit.
Leaders Behaving Badly
A good friend of mine is part of a church that is in the midst of an implosion. One of the pastors has been credibly accused of this and that and, instead of dealing with it openly and honestly, the pastor has organized a popularity campaign, attempted to act like nothing has happened, and purposefully divided the church to save his skin. It is and will continue to be ugly. This is the sixth example of a troubled church due to leadership character challenges that has crossed my path in as many weeks (five of which are here in Texas).
There’s been a steady stream of public stories about Christian leaders falling from grace for various reasons over the past few years. Additionally, I’ve heard private stories from friends and family members hurt and betrayed by the different power structures in Christian organizations. The stories range from the sad to the ridiculous.
This type of bad behavior is often explained away with two common arguments:
Everybody sins
These examples are outliers. Most church leaders are great people.
We know the first statement is true, and we hope the second is the same. But I’m not so sure this is an outlier problem anymore, and it’s not just because of the reality of sin. It’s because of some deep, hidden ideas at work in modern Christianity that are setting us up for failure.
What’s In a Name?
There’s always a danger in writing about pastors and church leadership. On one hand, some of you have been hurt inside faith-based institutions, and reading this might trigger some difficult emotions and memories. On the other hand, many of you deeply respect and love your pastors and leaders for wonderful reasons.
And many of you are pastors and, let’s face it, it can be one of the most thankless, difficult jobs on the planet.
I’m 51 years old, and I spent most of the past 30 years in various leadership roles, about half in the for-profit space and half in full-time Christian ministry (though not as a pastor). I’ve interacted with a fairly large number of Protestant and Catholic church leaders, and I’ve been a part of Protestant congregations for over four decades.
My personal experience with Christian leaders is a mixed bag. I have a dear pastor friend who is one of the most earnest, genuine shepherds I’ve ever known. I’ve also been a part of one or two churches where it became painfully obvious the head pastors were shrewd narcissists who happened to be articulate and winsome on Sunday mornings.
In previous roles, I often interacted with heads of Christian non-profits. Some of them were amazing people. Others were conniving, underhanded, and power-hungry.
The point is, I’m not someone who automatically bestows respect on a person who’s been to seminary and been granted the title of pastor or Christian leader. In fact, my first reaction is to be cautious when meeting a leader for the first time.
So what does all of this have to do with spiritual formation, deep discipleship, and “The Great Omission”?
Bad Ideas in Church
It has to do with at least three hidden, very powerful ideas (unconscious assumptions that govern who we are and how we operate in the world) about the modern church that work against our journey to become more like Jesus.
The Pastor as Ruler
Anyone who’s listened to the podcast, read the Soil & Roots book, or read some of my other articles has sensed that I’ve become increasingly suspicious and skeptical of the West’s obsession with growing Christian institutions. I’ve come to conclude that the more power an institution has, the less spiritual formation occurs.
Deep discipleship is intensely personal, and a growing institution (by its nature) becomes increasingly depersonalized. It generally becomes more interested in centralizing power than it does in dispersing that authority down into smaller groups. It requires increasing amounts of time and resources to care for the structures, policies, and procedures of the institution versus developing long-term, trusted relationships with the people inside the structure.
Even the assumptions about the title of “pastor” have become confusing. In many larger churches, the title has nothing to do with discipleship, formation, or even relationship. The pastor is a Bible teacher and CEO.
My wife and I used to attend a church that grew quickly from a few hundred to a few thousand people. The senior pastor routinely claimed he was “our pastor” from the pulpit.
His assertion was silly. We met him one time. He didn’t know our names, our stories, or anything about us. How could he claim to be the shepherd of sheep he didn’t know?
One of the byproducts of our fascination with institutional growth has been the morphing of the role of a pastor from a shepherd to a ruler, and a decrease in the role of the layperson in the kingdom.
As church planter David Watson notes,
“Professional leadership in the church has resulted in a reduction of those who feel qualified to minister…
Scripture makes it clear that the role of leadership in the church is to equip the Saints for the works of ministry. Leaders are to be servants, not rulers…
Position is a result of fulfilling the servant-leader role, not a result of going to school, having a degree, being ordained, or being called ‘pastor.’
In many ways our churches are becoming jails. Jails are designed to keep society from those who would harm it. Many churches now seem to be designed to isolate Christians from society so they cannot transform it.”
Modern Christianity often functions from the unconscious idea that a leader is someone who has the most knowledge, or perhaps the most evidence of the gifts of the Spirit (if in a more charismatic environment). But, as Watson (and the Apostle Paul) note, leadership should be based on character. And it’s very difficult to assess the character of someone we don’t personally know.
This brings us back to our working definition of discipleship: apprenticing with Jesus in order to become more like Him. That our character may become more and more like His. We intend to be spiritually formed through and with mature leaders whose character is worth emulating, not based solely (or perhaps even primarily) on their ability to exegete Scripture or exercise a spiritual gift.
This suggests spiritual formation is best accomplished in small, intimate, authentic communities, and that looks pretty different from what many experience in current Christian institutions.
We are Most Formed by a Lecture
Concerning our discipleship, we tend to place great emphasis and importance on the weekend sermon. I wonder if we place too much importance on it, and that has resulted in a reduction or elimination of other necessary elements in our spiritual journey.
Now to good Protestants, such an assertion may sound heretical. Surely the Bible is clear on the necessity and vital importance of sound preaching.
Indeed it is, though we may want to clarify what we mean by “preaching.”
If you were to ask some post-college friends what they found most formative and impactful on who they are as people from their years in school, it’s unlikely many would say the lectures they attended. They would probably cite their experiences and relationships with other people. Perhaps a professor who took them under their wing and mentored them. The friendships they formed. The crazy things they did together, be it during class or on the weekends.
It’s not that the lectures were unimportant. Learning the material was helpful to their education. But most college grads wouldn’t claim that they came out of school as different people because of the monologues they heard. At the very least, they would be more formed when allowed to interact, debate, digest, and marinate in the material presented in class.
When surveying the New Testament, it appears that teaching and preaching were often interactive. Questions, debate, and dialogue were welcomed and expected (aka the Bereans). The Old Testament has been described as Jewish meditation literature - words to be marinated in like a good juicy steak. There’s a sense that the Bible is to be ingested, wrestled with, worked out, debated, and pulled apart.
This isn’t the idea of some modern churches. The professional delivers a monologue for 20 or 30 minutes, we’re expected to receive it as solid truth, and given little or no opportunity to interact with the material or the presenter.
The weekend sermon has become the assumed defacto spiritually formative highlight of the week, but is it? It’s a running joke among pastors that few people remember what they preached on week over week.
So is monologue-based instruction the most formative element in the life of a human being?
Don’t misunderstand me - I’m not arguing against biblical teaching. I am arguing that spiritual formation is far more. Heart formation is deeply relational and deeply experiential. If we’re functioning from the Cartesian assumption (“I think therefore I am”) that relies on receiving information in a one-way direction, we’re shorting ourselves much of what discipleship is all about.
Deep discipleship involves what we call the Five Key Elements found in the New Testament: time, habit, community, intimacy, and instruction. Bible preaching is a vital part of that last element, but there’s so much more to our spiritual journey.
Conversion vs. Discipleship
Perhaps one of the most damaging ideas functioning underneath modern Christianity is that the point of it is to make converts. Entire programs, organizations, and movements have been developed to do just that. The end game is to encourage someone to pray the “sinner’s prayer,” “make a decision for Jesus,” or “get born again.”
These expressions have become so baked into Western Christianity that they’re uttered without a second thought. It has bred a type of “transactional” approach to the faith that continues to damage both the individual and culture.
To be sure, some of this idea is driven by what I call “Christian fatalism” (the world is plummeting towards inevitable destruction despite the cosmically transformative work of the cross and the resurrection). The point is to rescue as many people as possible from a failed planet as soon as we can.
There’s not much need for spiritual formation in this scenario. It’s a rescue mission that requires better evangelistic techniques, not lives that look more and more like Jesus.
It’s also driven by what we’ve already suggested - that we assume the human being is a brain on a stick, not a wonderfully hand-crafted eternal being made in the image of their Creator. So all we need to do is keep repeating the correct information until people intellectually agree.
But beyond those two drivers, I fear we’re accepting this idea because the truth is making converts is easier than making disciples. We can easily track “decisions for Jesus.” It’s far more difficult to track transformed relationships, acts of forgiveness, and quiet expressions of radical generosity. Having some service or revival where people emotionally raise their hands to come into the kingdom may be great. But the service ends and the revivalist picks up and moves to the next town.
Discipleship has a cost (so says Dietrich Bonhoeffer). It’s messy. It’s long-term. It can be incredibly exhilarating and incredibly boring. It’s frustrating. It’s intimate. It’s deeply relational.
I’m all about multiplication, though I’m concerned about discipleship programs that last six weeks, and then everyone is expected to go “recruit” the next batch of attendees. Who can cultivate spiritually formative relationships in six weeks?
I read the Gospels and wonder if, in some scenes, the Messiah was inviting people to “Say No to Jesus.” He often said and did things that certainly seemed to intentionally thin the herd versus trying to get as many “yes” decisions as possible.
Not to oversimplify, but perhaps Jesus was more interested in quality than quantity. Perhaps he was interested in the admittedly fewer people whose hearts were truly with Him. He didn’t seem very interested in transactions. He seemed more interested in finding people who would seek Him with their whole hearts, regardless of the cost, throughout their lives.
As C.S. Lewis quipped, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”
Perhaps if we took the time (and sometimes it takes a very, very long time) to invite people into the kingdom and explain what that truly means as we cultivate relationships, we would have fewer converts. But perhaps we’d have far more disciples.
Duc In Altum!
Brian
This Week on the Soil & Roots Podcast
We’re releasing episodes every two weeks here in the doldrums of summer, so we’ll have a new episode next week. I went back to the archives and found an audio episode that speaks to some of what you just read. It’s called “Let the Professionals Handle It.”
Enjoy!
Click to listen on YouTube:
Buy the Book!
If you’re interested in exploring deep discipleship and Christian spiritual formation, the Soil & Roots book is a wonderful primer. Check it out and make sure to leave a review! Available in softcover and Kindle.
Why Is There No Option for a Paid Subscription?
I write on behalf of Soil & Roots, a Christian non-profit organization that works to cultivate deep discipleship through its content and through supporting small formative communities called Greenhouses. As such, our efforts are funded through donations and Substack doesn’t offer a donation option. If you wish to support the writing and the work of Soil & Roots, just visit our website and make your monthly, tax-deductible contribution there. Thanks!
Where Else Can I Find You?
Website (lots of info on Greenhouses, plus our blog and podcast library)
Spotify (complete podcast library)
Facebook (great community of folks venturing into deep disciples plus the obligatory memes)
YouTube (complete podcast library, including original audio episodes)
Instagram (I don’t really get the appeal of IG, but there you go)
Email me at fish@soilandroots.org or leave a comment on Substack.
Fair point and thanks for sharing. I just think we'd want to balance those passages with others such as Jesus calling out religious leaders in public ("brood of vipers") and Paul's labeling of various Philippians as "dogs" and "false circumcision." I'm cool with giving the benefit of the doubt, though I also think assessing someone's character and treating them accordingly is wise and shrewd.
I'm not sure being "cautious" in showing someone respect is a good idea. What about giving them the benefit of the doubt whether or not they have been to seminary or even have a proven track record. Wives aren't told to submit to their husbands only after he has earned it or proved himself. Another example is 1 Peter 2:18 Servants, be submissive to your masters with all respect, not only to those who are good and gentle, but also to those who are unreasonable.