Mission and Vision . . . so far

I want to spend a few moments summing up the "mission and vision" series of posts so far. But before doing so, I want to snip a quote from C. J. Mahaney's latest post (Cross Centered Books) over at his brand spankin' new blog:

We awaken each day with a tendency to forget that which is most important: the gospel. All of us should assume this tendency and be aware of this tendency. Because of the Fall and due to the effects of remaining sin, we have a daily tendency and temptation to forget stuff in general and to forget that which is most important in particular.

It took about 15 of my first 17 years as a Christian to realize that this was a simple truth about us all and to begin to pattern my reading, my prayer, and my devotional time around this fact. It also became that which I looked for, sought after, hungered for, in all preaching. You can call it cross-centered, gospel-centered, Christ-centered--these are all useful terms, and they all represent a way of seeing, a way of living, and a way of understanding that in my opinion jibes with the New Testament.

But focusing on one thing causes you to look askance at others. Some things stand very near to Calvary in their importance, so that focusing on the cross brings these things into focus as well (think of the whole "tagcloud" of keywords that hover around the concepts justification and sanctification, for example), while other things sort of move to the periphery. Preaching and praxis that is void of the cross is simply a lapse and a failure, and it leaves me cold, hungry, and sometimes a little irritated. As my wife likes to say, "Just give me Jesus."

Any time I listen to a sermon I go into the experience with one question uppermost in my mind. Where is the gospel in this message? Where does Christ shine forth, rising like the Day Star in our hearts even as we listen to mortal speech?

But what I have found among church-goers is a deep distrust of any response to a sermon that is not all-out enthusiastic. As if the only correct response to the sermon must be, "Wasn't that incredible?" In my opinion, we don't know how to think about sermons. That is, we don't know how to test them, question them, subject them to thoughtful consideration, or apply Bible standards to them. We mistrust such practices as divisive. Criticism is a dirty word.

My first church after getting saved, a very Lutheran assembly, was racked by division, with charges and counter-charges, threats, name-calling, and pastorally pronounced anathemas filling the air. So I do understand the danger of divisiveness. I have seen rampant criticism in the church that was essentially self-centered and schismatic in nature. I have seen the harm it can do. Ever since, I have been determined to avoid that sort of thing like the hellish plague that it is.

But the alternative is not to unthinkingly applaud everything that goes on in your church. If that were so, we should remove all references to "discernment" from our Bibles.

Getting back to the "mission and vision" series of sermons at my church: since these messages express what my church leadership deems to be of central importance, in fact, to be definitive of ourselves as a church, this series is an opportunity for me to discern once and for all whether my own view of things lines up with my church's view. I have been very dissatisfied with the preaching-focus there for some time, but perhaps this "recalibration," as my pastor calls it, will be in fact a refocusing on "that which is most important: the gospel." If so, I'll join the celebration with a glad and eager heart.

But for now I move forward as one who listens, as one who, yes, thinks critically, as one who questions, and as one who hungers for the gospel. As I continue this series, I will be asking the key question: where is the cross in all this? Where is the gospel? Where is Jesus?

[The series so far: first, second, third. Next post in the series should come by Tuesday.]