Visioncasting, 2019

I started sharing some of my writing about navigating life as a Christian in the Pacific Northwest last February. I held a good deal of fear when it came to sharing my writing, which for me is essentially the same thing as sharing my faith publicly. But after publishing my first post I felt an immediate liberation, a sense that for the first time in my life I was living wholeheartedly. Over the months, I’ve heard from many of you that something I’ve shared about has resonated, or at its best brought courage and comfort. Hearing that you’ve been encouraged by anything I’ve written is the coolest thing, and I’m grateful. 

Over the past several months I’ve found several spaces where Christian writers and thinkers can speak louder and clearer. I’ve been drawn less towards throwing my voice into the morass of folks talking about hot button issues in an echo chamber and am learning that, maybe like you, I’m wired to see nuance, cultural assumptions, and generational trends that impact Christians. We’ve heard plenty about folks leaving the church, but what about those of us who have stayed and found ourselves here, in a small canoe on a large bay. We’re paddling towards a clearing. The more oars the better.

Here are three questions that have real implications as we move forward as a church in 2019. I’m planning to write more extensively about each in the coming months, and hope you’ll join me in thinking through these questions: 

Why are Christians leaving the church, and what’s filling in that gap?

We’re good at whipping up church swaps, from “the church of the Sunday New York Times” to Dance Church to The Liturgists. Church looks a lot different in 2019 than it did in 2009, with some congregations pressing into liturgy and contemplative Christianity and the formation of more micro home churches. But where have many of us gone, and where are the remainder of us going? As evangelicalism continues to lose dominance, how do we best be in and not of the world and not lose sight of historic Christian practices?  

How does media portray Christians, and how do Christians engage with social media?

As Christians, is silence on the mistreatment of immigrants at the border or sex abuse in the church complicity? Or can we just as easily check off the activist box by sharing a Facebook post and not take other actions, essentially making it more about us and our own standing as woke and aware?

The work of our hands is not just in the typing. When a person quietly silently serves, regardless of religious affiliation, that work may go unnoticed, social capital may go unearned, but real change has started. How can we do both? 

I’m particularly interested in the media’s portrayal of Christians, which lately is much more nuanced and interesting. Let’s talk about how we can better shape that narrative beyond silos, and how to support each other as we take action beyond talking to folks that look and think a lot like us.

What if we celebrated the church’s loss of dominance in American culture?

If I have a personal mission statement, it looks a lot like this:

I make room at the table for Christians and encourage us to take a seat.

The table is already set for cultural critics, activists, thought leaders, and academics. It’s set for politics, big business, and tech. We’ve heard enough from Jerry Falwell-era evangelical leaders who cultivate a fear-based narrative around American politics. We need to hear more from Christian artists and people of faith working tirelessly in social justice and direct service. Much, much more from Christians of color. Let’s work harder to listen, then create a counterargument to the narrative that Christians are inherently anti-intellectual and irrelevant. There is space for our voices in public discourse. 

The church will remain because we know how to lose. That’s the whole point — that Jesus acted out of weakness.

It’s of course the opposite of dominance, God’s power made perfect in our own lives while we navigate a storm of failures personally and deep grievances corporately. 

What if we embraced the discomfort around being associated with a religious minority and understood that the fall of evangelicalism from dominance in culture is a good thing? Because I believe that it is, and I’m know I’m not alone. Here is where the work of rebuilding begins.