Disciples or Apostles?

So a question has been running through my head a bunch lately at it is this question:  Should the church be "making" disciples or apostles?

I put making in quotation marks because really I question the whole "making" language as truly (as many have said in the past and present) it is God who "makes" disciples and the church just helps in the process.

Okay, but seriously I am wondering if our language of discipleship basically gives us a bunch of passive learners/consumers.  I mean if I am supposed to be a disciple doesn't that mean I am a learner or "pupil." The images that come to my head when I explore that is a student at a desk just furiously taking notes and learning from the one who has the knowledge.  Sound a little familiar?  Many of my acquaintances and friends who are Christians often approach church in the same way:  they go to worship but also mainly to "learn" from someone who has a knowledge.  They want to know what they are to believe.

Our language doesn't exactly challenge that notion even though most pastors I know cry about the lack of "ministry of all believers" being actively done.  Well what do we expect?  We say we are "making" disciples.... and what we are "making" is learners who need us (pastors, you know, who have the knowledge...even if that isn't what we want).

I have been reading Jim Walker's book Dirty Word, and a quote stuck out to me that connected with this thought running through my head.  He writes:

Koinonia isn't something we talk about, read about, or sit and watch.  Koinonia is action; it's what we do.  When I was learning to drive, I was told and I was shown.  I even got to use one of those driving-simulation machines in high school.  But it wasn't until I actually got behind the wheel and hit the gas that I learned how to drive.  Does the church teach people to drive by putting them behind the wheel?  Do we help people experience the kingdom of God?  Or is church a big tour bus where everyone piles in, and there is one driver who points out the window at the kingdom of God, but no one actually gets to get out and experience it? (emphasis mine)

What a great picture that I feel captures some of my frustration.  To me it feels like our language of making disciples creates nothing more than tourists on the journey of life, hearing about the kingdom of God and believing it is there but not actually going out into the world and stepping off the bus to experience it.

But what if we were about "making" (loosely used) apostles.  You know apostles (definition: one sent on a mission), those people Jesus gathered and gave the command to in Matthew 28.  Maybe instead of living the command of the story we should enter into the story.  What if we were about intentionally saying that we are going to send people out?  You are here and we will help equip you and then we are sending you out:  you are an apostle!  Currently, we have the language of apostles but in most circles it is the "clergy" who are in the category of apostle.  What greater way to reinforce the sense that clergy are the ones who do the work of the kingdom and the rest just sit and learn.

Personally, I would love to see an image of the church as a bus where the bus stops and the driver opens the door and says don't just look at it, GO EXPERIENCE IT!  Don't just learn it, GO DO IT!  YOU ARE SENT!

P.S.  Thanks for taking the time to read my rambling.  It is not polished.  It is not finished.  I just had to let it out.

Stewardship and Church

I have really been mulling over stewardship and its relationship with the life of the church over the past few days. It was all sparked at our staff meeting over at Central UMC when a member led a presentation from Igniting Ministry. It had some very valuable questions that pushed the staff to reflect on what it means to be church and to move forward in ministry.

However, one thing really struck me. Throughout all of the material the church was referred to as "our church." Now I understand what was intended by saying "our church." The intention was surely to recognize the bond of the faith community, building, with the individuals who find themselves as members within that local context. However, I am starting to wonder if the "possession" of the church by its "membership" is somewhat misguided.

I have heard/read many theologians who push us to remember that all we have is given to us by God. Usually this language is pushed to get us to remember that the gifts we have and the resources (money, etc.) we accumulate are not fully ours but are given to us by God. In that way it really isn't "my money" it is rather "God's money" that has been given over to me to be a steward of. This was emphasized in my life by my mother.

You see I grew up in a single-parent household and we always went to church. However, when I was around 12 or 13 my mother ended up doing adult foster care for four gentleman with developmental disabilities. Sometimes it would happen that she couldn't bring the guys to church because one of them was having a bad day, etc. On those days mother would send a check with me to put in the offering plate. For the most part I would just drop that check in without looking, but one day my curiosity got the best of me and I opened the check.....$200....I was floored. You see money was very tight for us at all times growing up. My mother worked sometimes up to 4 jobs to pay the rent, buy us food, and maintain the car. She worked extremely hard for the money she got and I know as a young kid I always wished we had more money so I could have all the cool things my friends had. I can remember the moment vividly of my mind racing thinking of all the things we could have if mom didn't give away so much of "her" money to the church. I went home and asked her about it and her simple answer was this, "That money is God's not mine." I was left perplexed and stayed perplexed until I started to mature, had more conversations with my mother, and began to understand exactly what God had given me.

I have to admit that it took me a long time (until after college) for me to cultivate that same attitude, but I look back now and am thankful that my mother took the time with me to help me understand our relationship to God. Every year, Stacy and I are trying to increase our giving to God. There are times when I look at the checkbook register and realize that the money could have been used to decrease some of the debt accumulated in our early married life as student(s) but then I remember that I wouldn't have that money if God had not first given us the gift of life, the mental gifts for work, and the gift of faith so truly it belongs to God.

Now back to my original train of thought. When we use personal possessive pronouns in relationship to the church, I wonder if it doesn't reveal something about our thought. When I say "my" church or "our" church I am claiming some possession in it, somehow I am an "owner" of it. But is this right? I wonder when did the personal possessive pronoun come in to use when referring to church? These are questions I ask that I need to investigate some more, but they don't change some of the things I am thinking.

What would happen if we banned the use of personal possessive pronouns when referring to church. What if every church in its local context were referred to by it's name, but more importantly identified itself as "God's church?" Would attitudes begin to change? Would we start to really try and understand where God is calling us to and who God is calling us to be? Would we become less focused on "survival" and more focused on mission? Would our own lives be transformed in a way that realizes that we are but stewards of what God has given?

I have vowed this week to never again refer to the church I am placed at as "my" church (something we pastor's often do surprisingly) or as "our" church in any conversations. I will refer to them by title name only or "this" church when talking to those within. It is not because I don't feel a part of this faith community (I already feel very welcomed), but rather because I think we have to be very intentional in our language because in a way what we say helps transform and form who we are.

These are the thoughts running through my head. They are still at their beginnings and I still will be thinking about them and I would love to hear others thoughts. Am I off base? Am I missing something? Does it really matter?