Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Lynn and I were driving home from Illinois last week when she asked the question, "What do you think you would have been like if you had grown up in the sixties and early seventies?" Let me put the question into context for you. The night before we had watched one of my all-time favorite childhood movies, Billy Jack. You'll need to watch the movie to get the connection. As we drove, Keith Green was playing on the car stereo. And I had just finished reading a portion of the CD booklet about how Keith and Melody Green had purchased several houses around them for the purpose of providing shelter and relationships to drug-addicted street people, and this was their "church."
Earlier today I had lunch with one of the pastors at our church and the conversation took much the same turn. I shared with him about how God has stripped away so much of my thoughts, ideas, and perspectives of what it means to be the church. He asked me what God was replacing those things with. I couldn't answer, other than to say, "himself." We talked about a lot, but I eventually came back around to this feeling that I was born in the wrong place and the wrong time because what I feel most drawn to and wired for, in terms of church, doesn't really exist right here, right now. Let me explain:
I feel like I should have been in my 30's in Germany in the ten years after Martin Luther nailed his theses to the church door. I feel like I should have been in my 30's walking with St. Patrick through the British Isles planting monastic communities among the barbarians. I feel like I should have been in my 30's in China immediately after the communist revolution crushed the above-ground church.
We talked about the future. And I shared with him that I am a person for whom the world ten years out is in clearer focus than the world 24 hours from now. And I feel pretty good about my place in life ten years from now, though the here and now is incredibly frustrating.
The reason I feel pretty good about my place in the church world ten years from now is because I am increasingly coming to believe that within the next ten years this country will experience a complete evangelical meltdown. Society and government will have pushed us further to the margins, possibly even underground. Churches will stand empty. Mega-star preachers will have become extinct, or irrelevant at best. And it is in this world that I feel most suited to live as a follower of Christ and herald of His Kingdom.
Many believe that the best thing that could happen would be for a Christian to be elected president, preside over a Republican congress, and appoint Christian judges to the Supreme Court. I, on the other hand, believe that this would do nothing but stop the advance of the Kingdom in it's tracks. I think, if we really want to see the Kingdom of God explode across our land, we will need a secular or even atheist president in office and an activist Supreme Court aligned with the A.C.L.U. Throughout history, the people of God have always subverted the empire from the margins and the underground. On the other hand, every time the people of God have been granted governmental privilege, they have drifted into a spiritual coma punctuated with sickening fits of corruption and heresy.
Therefore, today, I find myself in a very interesting, precarious, and paradoxical place of longing for the church in America to collapse so the Kingdom can prevail. This is not a safe place for my heart and mind to be because it puts me directly at odds with the pop-Christian world around me. No mega-church pastor wants to hear any Christian say that the best thing for advancing the Kingdom would be for his church to fold. No self-help "Christian" author wants to hear another Christian say that the best thing for the Kingdom to advance would be for his books to be pulled from store shelves. No "Christian" broadcaster wants to hear another Christian say that the best thing for the Kingdom to advance would be for the plug to be pulled on their broadcast. And no sensible Christian wants to hear that the best thing for advancing the Kingdom would be for some of us to lose our lives. But I'm saying it.
What will the movement of Jesus followers (formerly known as the church) look like after the great Evangelical meltdown? I suppose nobody really knows. A visitor to this blog named Anna shared her thoughts in a comment a few months ago of one future scenario. It's a scenario that I find incredibly appealing and would gladly devote my life to.
I think this is where the New Monasticism is an important, if not civilization-saving, venture. Petroleum will run out, this is a given. We cannot continue as is. Christians will (or should) be at the forefront of a grand Urban and Rural redesign project. We will have to study hard the details of forgotten social history, through the lens of our faith.
The nitty gritty: Fight to change zoning laws to encourage multi-story and multi-use pedestrian-friendly buildings. Read up on New Urbanism and Ecological design. Move into poor neighborhoods or into small towns or into the country. Rehab old row houses or build Community houses (like duplexes except with shared cooking/living areas.) Stay Put. For a Long Time. Do local music, local dance, local food. Grow that food! Fair Trade most everything else. Love children in your neighborhood. Keep your old-folks around. Start or finance micro-enterprise.
To sum up: re-invent the wheel with a pile of broken parts. Folks will be drawn to what you are doing like bees to sunflowers because they are lonely and might overcome their self-centeredness just enough to be drawn into Real Life.
As I said in an earlier post, being the underground church in America may never have anything to do with hiding. But it will look dramatically different from how we now do church, yet dramatically consistent with what it means to be the Church.

The 5000 Year Leap
Lynn and I pulled our road weary Camry into the garage at around 7:50 Wednesday evening after driving for ten hours from Christmas with our families in Illinois. Relieved to be home we lugged in our packages and suitcases and were eager to crash on the couch. With the final pieces of luggage in hand and the couch in sight, I was startled to hear my wife's screams from the kitchen. I ran to her side and was astonished to find a sea of ants covering the counter tops and sink. The creepy, pulsing ocean was fed by multiple rivers of little black bastards (pardon my language) streaming down from the walls and cabinets and circling the entire perimeter of the kitchen where the walls meet the ceiling.

Go here for more information about Rosenberg's book, Epicenter.









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