A Vision for the Church

I would like to preface this by saying that this is hardly original; as a matter of fact, a great majority of the contents of this post are merely highlights of much more seasoned theologians, and I've found a great deal of encouragement from them.

Firstly, I believe the church should be a refuge for the world, not from the world. What does that mean? Anyone who takes a serious look at the ministry and teachings of Jesus cannot deny his heart heart for the poor and his outreach to the ostracized. What would it look like to enter in to intentional community with the outcasts of our own society? Maybe it means being more excited about the presence of a local drug dealer in church on Sunday than the presence of a faithful and generous giver (or anyone else with the far-too-common church celebrity status). We often acknowledge our call to be "not of this world", but why do we often overlook the call to be in the world?

We also know that, as Christians, we're called to "love our neighbor". Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his book The Cost of Discipleship, made a significant distinction between what he called "cheap grace" and "costly grace". The same distinction should be made when discussing the love we have for our neighbors... cheap love versus costly love. Take the story of the widow's mite, in which a woman gave all that she had among a crowd of men giving out of their excess. That's the kingdom of God at work - Jesus wasn't impressed with those who gave out of their excess, but with those who genuinely sacrificed. What would it look like for an entire congregation to practice costly love (not just financially costly, but costly in every sense of the word)? What would it look like to surrender the dogma and the tradition and the way we always thought it was supposed to be if it meant we could love someone that much more?

Let's look at Huckleberry Finn as an example, because I think there's something key to be grasped. Part way through the book, he was faced with the very real decision of helping his friend Jim, a runaway slave, after he had been recaptured. If he helped Jim escape, he would burn in the fiery pits of hell; or if he did the "right" thing and revealed Jim's location to his slave master, he would secure his eternal safety but have to live with his conscience. In the end, he decided to steal back Jim and says, "All right then, I'll go to hell."

I keep coming back to the question, "What would it look like?" because I think the potential answers for these questions aren't something one person should decide on, but it should be a collective vision for the future of the church.

What will the church looks like as it finalizes its progression past the megachurch era? I don't know, but I'm excited to see how the church will progress in its expression of its spirituality and further pursue its increasingly renewed interest in the person of Jesus.