To begin, I want to thank my co-essayists, men for whom the topic of church planting is more than notional or theoretical. These men are practitioners. Their shared commitment to multiply the Garden-Sanctuary of God has passed out of the realm of conviction and taken tangible form in the Spirit-established work of their hands. Dan, Mark, Garrett, and Justin, thank you. There is evidently much to be agreed upon, and I pray our unity of mind proves to be characteristic of a much broader trend, laying the groundwork for a new generation of wise and Christlike (Dan), liturgical and sacramental (Mark), patient and gritty (Garrett), mature and discerning (Justin) church planters.
What follows may seem like a new train of thought, but I did detect something of a thread running through several of the previous essays. So here goes.
The cultural revolution of the 1960s and 1970s impacted virtually everything. Although the roots of this revolution can be traced back further, I think we can look to these decades for the onset of much that ails the modern church. In particular, as it concerns this essay, many Christians in the 60s and 70s began to question and spurn inherited, institutionalized forms of Christian faith and practice. As with so much else, the emphasis shifted toward individual experience, demonstrated especially by the rise of “contemporary” worship and the liturgical vision underlying it. Today, many Christians attribute a degree of sacramental efficacy to contemporary worship music that they would not dare attribute to the Sacraments themselves. “Praise and Worship” have become the means of grace, the means of having a personal encounter with God.
Ultimately, this anti-institutional, individualistic shift instigated (perhaps necessitated) the rise of Christian consumerism. Nobody talks this way, of course, but church leaders have to work hard to produce individual worship experiences that can compete in a marketplace of individual worship experiences (or else make a case for why their inferior product is actually more authentic). When “Praise and Worship” are the means of grace, how can a church plant in an elementary school cafeteria compete with a stage full of paid musicians at the mega-church down the street? The entire system is thus finely-tuned to reward the most pragmatic, charismatic, and entrepreneurial pastors, the sort of men who could just as easily launch a profitable business.
It’s no surprise, therefore, that church leaders have largely co-opted the language and principles of secular organizational leadership. To plant a successful church under the present “market conditions,” churches need slogans, core values, mission and vision statements — not to mention a highly dynamic online presence.
To be clear, clarity is good. Having shared language is good (we used to call them Creeds). And if 99% of people will Google your church before they visit on a Sunday, you should probably have a website. But lest we confuse the esse and the bene esse — the essential and the beneficial — the aspiring church planter has numerous priorities which outrank the church’s website and/or mission statement. The previous essays have already listed many of these priorities, so I need not restate them. Rather, with broad brush strokes, I would like to reframe the church planter’s task in terms of enchantment.
In C.S. Lewis’s “The Silver Chair,” the Underland is a dark, subterranean realm beneath the land of Narnia. The Underland is ruled by a Witch, who uses spells to manipulate the perceptions of her captives, leading them to question their own memories of the surface world and to conclude that the Underland is all that exists. However, the Witch meets her match in the character of Puddleglum the Marshwiggle. As the Witch is weaving her spell, Puddleglum speaks in defiance: “You can play that fiddle till your fingers drop off, and still you won’t make me forget Narnia; and the whole Overworld too. […] I’ve seen the sky full of stars. I’ve seen the sun coming up out of the sea of a morning and sinking behind the mountains at night. And I’ve seen him up in the midday sky when I couldn’t look at him for brightness.”[1] As a result of this speech, Puddleglum’s companions “breathed again and looked at one another like people newly awaked.”
According to Charles Taylor, modern people are living in the Underland, captivated by the spells of secularism and materialism, unable to perceive the meaning, mystery, and transcendence at the heart of existence. Under such conditions, I believe church planters should consider redefining “success” in terms of re-enchantment, overpowering the Underland spells with Overworld realities. In a world shrouded in delusion and drabness, church planters are Marshwiggles, rooted in the Real, armed with the Scriptures, the Sacraments, and the Songbook of the Church.
Therefore, in the midst of a “hyper-church” marketplace (to borrow Mark’s phrase), church planters should not even bother to compete. Slogans and mission statements may be helpful, but we must be careful not to trifle with the Witch’s spell, which is built upon a materialistic, individualistic, consumeristic paradigm. Why attempt to recreate what so many Christians are having to deconstruct? The world is hungry for something more. Speaking from personal experience, I believe the renewed interested in more traditional, institutionalized forms of Christian faith and practice is partly rooted in the desire to breathe again and awaken to a world “charged with the grandeur of God” (Hopkins). Yet cultural trends are ultimately beside the point, because true shepherds will lead their flocks to green pastures and still waters, to whatever is needed, even when what is needed is not wanted. The Christian industrial complex produces the equivalent of highly processed food, filled with artificial additives, and so it should be no surprise that the flock of God is malnourished and weak. If entertainment could satisfy the soul, this generation would be of all people most contented. If fleeting emotional experiences could sustain a life of faith, our pews and coffers would be full. We were made for pure meaning and additive-free engagement with the Real — deep, ancient, relational, participatory, and transcendant.
In conclusion, as we consider the contemporary church planting landscape, church planters should heed the words of Marshall McLuhan, “the medium is the message.”[2] As we work to expand the Garden-Sanctuary and fill the earth with light, we must keep in mind that the methods and structures and liturgies we employ will inevitably give shape and color to the message we communicate. Transcendent content (the Gospel) is most effectively communicated within a transcendent context — church buildings that look like church buildings, at-least-weekly Eucharist, effectual sacraments, pre-modern preaching, time-tested rituals, soul-stirring artwork and music, ancient prayers and practices, etc. Not only do such things reawaken us to the “surface world,” they also subvert the present Christian industrial complex.
Church planter, be a Marshwiggle for Christ.
Drew Knowles is a Theopolis Fellow and pastor serving in Houston, TX.
[1] C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia. “The Silver Chair.” Harper Collins, 2004, 630-631.
[2] McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. McGraw-Hill, 1964.
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