Every so often, there’s a question that crops up when I’m reading/thinking about church planting. This is especially true when church planting gets slotted under the heading of “apostolic ministry.” Here’s a quote from N.T. Wright that assesses, accurately, I believe, the priority of first century apostles:
The heart of the apostles’ reasoning in all this was the priority of the word of God and prayer. Only when a crisis emerges do we see what is really important. We noted earlier that ‘the apostles’ teaching’ was top of the list of the defining marks of the church (2:42), and that the apostles, faced with persecution, were instructed by the angel to ‘go and speak the words of this Life’ (5:20)… The early apostolic testimony stands solidly: the task of an apostle is the word of God and prayer.
Based on what we find in the New Testament–that apostolic ministers, the men God uses to begin new gospel movements, are first and foremost preachers and prayers–how do we reconcile the massive amounts of time that church planters today typically pour into fund raising, advertising campaigns, and infrastructure?
I’m not saying that any of those latter things are extraneous. Just wondering how to keep first things first and how to go about explaining this apparent dichotomy… If anyone else wants to take a shot at this, I’m all ears.
Repeatedly, my hands arch themselves over the keyboard while one knee props open Acts for Everyone. I pause momentarily, as if to fight the impulse that has overtaken me. Then, my fingers start slow-dancing over the keyboard. It’s as if I can’t help myself:
One of the great arts of Christian theology is to know how to tell the story: the story of the Old Testament, the story of Jesus as both the climax of the Old Testament and the foundation of all that was to come (not, in other words, a random collection of useful preaching material with some extraordinary and ’saving’ events tacked on the end), and the story of the church from the first days until now. - N.T. Wright, Acts for Everyone Part One
This comes from N.T. Wright’s Acts for Everyone Part One, but it reads like a paragraph out of a novel. A historically-true, gospel-centered, heart-thumping novel that reflects the kind of “education” a seminary grad can only pray for and aspire to.
Peter and John had a secret–a secret that enabled them to run rings round the book-learning of the authorities. They had been with Jesus. They had been with him night and day. They had seen and heard him pray. They knew how he read the scriptures, in his fresh, creative way, drawing out their inner message and finding his own vocation in the middle of it.
Now that he had died and had then been astonishingly raised, and had then been exalted into the heavenly realm, all Peter and John had to do to explain what they were about was to develop the lines of thought they had heard him use over and over again.
This didn’t just give them “boldness” in the sense of courage to stand up and say what they thought. Sometimes people can be bold even when they’re muddled. It gave them something more: a clarity, a sharp edge, a definite point at which to stand. And the authorities knew it.
I like the way N.T. Wright describes the new landscape defined by Pentecost and the explosive growth of the early church, as related in Acts 2. Jesus wants the same thing to happen in cities today:
Imagine a world without this astonishing teaching! Imagine a society where there was no ‘common life’ built around a shared belief in Jesus! Imagine a world without ‘the bread-breaking,’ or a world without prayer! Life would be bleak indeed — as it often is for many people, not least those who embrace a relentlessly secularist lifestyle, shutting the door on any of these possibilities. And if you lived in such a world, and then suddenly found yourself swept up in this pattern of teaching, fellowship, bread-breaking and prayer, you would know that new dimensions had opened up before you, and new vistas of how the world might be had suddenly become visible. - Acts for Everyone Part One, page 45
Rich Mullins poetically describes something I like to call “happy self-forgetfulness”:
And especially in a day when so much emphasis and so much pressure is put on us to esteem ourselves. I don’t know how anyone can wake up with morning breath and pillow head and feel any self-esteem. That is not the sort of thing that I want to put my faith in. And in the church—it’s unbelievable to me that this whole foolishness about esteeming yourself has leaked into the church. I kinda go, ‘Christ didn’t ask us to esteem ourselves.’
I think if [we] would have asked, I think He would probably say, ‘Look, buddy, you’d be lucky if you could forget yourself. If you could lose yourself, you’d be luckier than if you found yourself.’ It would be wonderful if you knew the names of the trees between your house and where you work, between your house and your church. If you knew that was a tulip tree and that was a redbud. It would be great if you knew the names of the constellations. It would be great if you knew something about your neighbors. It would be a lucky thing for you if you forgot yourself, if you lost yourself.
Couldn’t agree more.
HT: Gospel-Driven Church
