Mission Confusion and Clarification

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. It turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. Although I was far from being a leader at the time, it also turned out to be a defining moment in my life that helped shape my thinking about leadership and staying true to mission.

As a college student in 1975 I worked the swing shift in a Eugene, Oregon sawmill. I took my place at the bottom of the food chain, in a system of position and power based upon seniority and hierarchy. The guys referred to me as the “cleanup boy,” a belittling term that I endured because I earned a whopping $4.50 an hour, while the minimum wage in 1975 hovered a little over $2.00 an hour. My job required me to clean the mechanic’s shop and equipment. Having grown up on a farm, I was used to cleaning up after livestock, so I figured this could not be much different, besides the smell of sawdust beats the aroma of manure any day.

In addition, I knew how to operate tractors and machinery. Working in the sawmill expanded my operating portfolio as I drove forklifts of all sizes, log trucks, and assorted heavy equipment for the purpose of combatting their grease and grime with a steam cleaner. The work was dirty, noisy, physical, and sometimes monotonous. I took my responsibility seriously and made it my mission to keep everything as clean as possible. At times that seemed like a never-ending task because the mechanics and various machinists working in the shop knew how to make a mess, and never cleaned up after themselves.

One night I completed my regular tasks, and set to work organizing and cleaning up one particular storage area of the machine shop. A large pile of old metal parts seemed to be taking up a lot of space, gathering dirt, and making it difficult to keep the area clean. My muscles ached as I hauled the heavy metal components out to the dumpster where they would soon be deported as scrap. Looking over the newly cleaned up area, I beamed with a sense of pride in my work, believing the foreman would be pleased when he arrived in the morning at my initiative and hard work.

Arriving at work the next afternoon around 3:00 pm, I was not surprised when one of the mechanics told me the foreman wanted to see me right away. I could barely contain my enthusiasm at the prospect of a word of commendation, or maybe even a raise, promotion, or bonus. Upon arrival, the sour look on the foreman’s face soon took the wind out of my sails. “What did you think you were doing by hauling all those parts out to the dumpster last night?” he boomed.

“Well, I just got tired of cleaning up around that mess, so I thought I would get rid of all that junk,” I stammered.

“That pile of junk, as you called it, contained parts necessary to keep this sawmill in operation in case of a breakdown. You threw away about $20,000.00 worth of parts last night! It’s a good thing one of the mechanics noticed after you left last night, and lugged everything back in. If those parts had still been in that dumpster when it got hauled off this morning, you would be fired right now!”

Luckily, he was a Christian man, and knew I was a theology student, so he had mercy on me. Even though I did not lose my job, my mind reeled at the implications of my good intentions gone awry. Using my wages at $4.50 an hour, it would have taken me nearly five thousand hours to pay for my mistake. Twenty thousand dollars was a lot of money back in 1975, when you could buy a nice home for not much more than that in our area.

I thought I knew my mission, to clean up my part of the mill. But that particular evening I suffered from mission confusion, thinking that I was doing a good thing, while I was actually destroying the potential operation of the entire sawmill. The conversation with the foreman provided clarification. After that, I left the big decisions to the foreman, and asked before tackling a project that seemed like a good idea to me at the time.

The bigger mission of the sawmill, of course, did not center upon my role, as important as it might have seemed to me. The bigger mission involved keeping the entire organization operating efficiently so lumber could be produced, creating the raw materials for construction, building homes and industry. Keeping the larger mission in perspective requires perspective. Without that perspective, a cleanup boy might think his mission was just to clean up messes left by his fellow workers, and fail to realize that he was actually helping to make it possible for houses to be built, and the economy to flourish.

Without a view of the bigger picture, it is possible to lose sight of your purpose and true mission. The custodian of the church might view his job as cleaning rooms, picking up trash, or vacuuming the carpet. In light of the bigger mission, he could be an integral component in helping guests feel welcome in a clean and inviting environment, facilitating an openness to receive Christ.

Even amongst church leaders, mission confusion abounds. Some believe the mission of the church is tradition, to preserve their particular doctrinal statement or denominational affiliation. Others believe their mission revolves around numbers, maintaining and exceeding metrics for buildings or budgets. Still others view their mission as relevance, expanding programs, technology, and ministries to an ever-widening and diverse audience. Some point toward churches that experience explosive growth as they aim at the constantly moving target of popular culture. There are always those who believe the church’s mission finds its best expression through social justice, or community organization and development. Then there are those who believe the church is all about worship, as they define it. And many are the churches that believe their mission to be the defense of truth, or their version of it, at any cost.

Please indulge me as I invite you to peruse the following mission statements or slogans, gleaned from a few minutes surfing the internet for church websites. It seems a bit lengthy, yet it illustrates the point. Feel free to pass quickly through the bulleted points to the text below. While there are several familiar themes, I think you will agree no actual consensus appears to exist amidst quite a bit of confusion:

• Our church is called to proclaim the Gospel of Christ and the beliefs of the evangelical Christian faith, to maintain the worship of God, and to inspire in all persons a love for Christ, a passion for righteousness, and a consciousness of their duties to God and their fellow human beings.

• Love God. Love others. Serve the world.

• Developing fully devoted followers of Christ.

• Our mission is to sow "the Seed of Hope," Jesus Christ, in the hearts of many here and to the ends of the earth. Our context is the emerging post-modern culture. Post-moderns have rejected the "trinity" of modernism: reason, nature and progress-and the church that is built on it. Lacking a metanarrative, post-moderns turn to a sort of primitive tribalism, or bury their pain in technology or consumerism.

• Our mission is to carry the gospel, the sacraments, and God's love and fellowship to the unchurched, the alienated, and the excommunicated (the church's homeless).

• Reaching out to the World...Preaching to the Unsaved...Teaching the Saved to Serve.

• To yield to the wind of the Holy Spirit blowing through our mist, allowing it to change us into the image of Christ, thus making us the loving people God would have us to be.

• Christian, in our beliefs... Methodist, in our approach... Episcopal, in our organization.

• We strive to be an "open-door" church, actively reaching out and welcoming all persons. A Great Place For Your Family!

• First Church especially focuses upon those who are seeking a "new beginning," and those who want to become more "Christlike," and want to learn more about living a "holy life," and for those who are yearning to grow in "love and compassion," and the building of "family relationships."

• Where faith and adventure meet!

• To preach the gospel of Jesus Christ and to meet human needs in His name without discrimination.

• To teach, preach, and baptize all who will heed "The Word".

• To courageously represent the kingdom of God through witness, discipleship and service to others.

• To worship God as we evangelize the world, and provide a place of fellowship to equip the believer for service to God and man.

• The goal of our mission is to introduce all who can be reached to our precious Lord Jesus, whose return to rapture His Church is so imminent.

• To increase our love for God and to help meet the needs of humankind by "Loving God with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves

• We are a church that is committed to Christ and his Word.

• We are a church where we "Exalt the Savior", "Evangelize the Sinner" and "Equip the Saint"

• To make Christ known to the world through a loving, growing, giving and serving group of committed people who are connected in small groups.

• "The Word of God is our focus."

• A church that strives to be a beacon of light in our community

• The Church that understands that people don't care about how much you know, until they know how much you care

• Our purpose here is to reach as many people with the good news of Jesus Christ as possible through: Relevant and challenging messages from our pastor - An exciting atmosphere of praise and worship during our services.

• We are a full Gospel church that believes everything the Bible states. We believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. We preach and teach the truth. We have the desire to see souls saved.

• Our mission is to save, educate and liberate humanity for Jesus the Christ by sharing the Gospel Message, teaching the Bible, and living in the power of the Holy Spirit.

• Where everybody is somebody and Jesus is Lord.

From the pleasantly simple to the painfully complex, churches struggle to define their mission. How do you synthesize twenty-seven New Testament books containing thousands of verses into a simple mission statement, proclaiming the main thing? With the variety of churches and Christian organizations, is it possibleto define the mission of the church organically?

The Oxford English Dictionary defines organic as, “relating to, or derived from living matter.” The word comes from the Greek organikos, “relating to a tool or instrument.” Organize and organization also stem from the same root word. Although this organikos is not found in the New Testament, we do find familiar themes of building, tools, and workmanship. Something organic derives from something living. Paul expresses our connection to Christ, “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10 NIV) The Greek word for workmanship, poiema, conveys the idea of craftsmanship, something organically fabricated, like linen cloth.

Perhaps the best mission statement for the church is an extrapolation of the one Jesus provided just before his ascension. Long known as “The Great Commission,” the words of Matthew 28:18-20 indicate our co-mission with Christ—providing explanation and substance for the “good works” Paul mentioned that “God prepared in advance for us to do.”

“Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’" (Matthew 28:18-20 NIV)

There is nothing new here, expositors wrestle with this text and preachers expound on its urgency on a regular basis, as they have done for all the centuries since Jesus first uttered the words. Yet the profound simplicity of these words convey an uncomplicated, organic message for continuation of the church, our true mission for organic growth, coming directly from the living Head of the church.

Personally, I shy away from simplistic approaches and do so throughout this book. Our modern and post-modern tendencies to discover linear solutions and offer a one-size fits all “how-to” solution cannot find basis in scripture. So we try to make texts say what we want them to say, in order to come up with a program or process for disciple-making. Yet I cannot escape the fact that Jesus’ organic commission can provide a steady and sturdy skeleton upon which our spiritual formation depends. We all look different on the outside, but we all look very similar within. That is a picture of the church in our diversity, yet having a structure framed by Christ himself. For those of you looking for an outline, here it is, alliteration and all:

EMPOWERMENT (vs. 18): Notice the words of Jesus, “all authority. . .therefore go. . ..” We cannot begin to think about accomplishing God’s mission without God’s authorization and power. Just as the disciples needed the upper room experience, so we need the empowerment of the Holy Spirit to actively engage our culture, touch people, and be the church Jesus desires us to be. What could be more organic than a connection to the source of life?

EVANGELISM (vs. 19): “make disciples, baptizing them. . ..” The same Holy Spirit that compelled the 120 disciples to move from the Upper Room to the streets invites us to move from our safe inner circles to where the people live in our context. This involves proclaiming the Gospel, the evangel, the good news—using both words and deeds. At various times the church has turned the good news into either an argument, a political profile, a creed to recite, or a polemic for a particular theological perspective. The simple truth remains that the Gospel is best conveyed as good news, in a personal conversation between two or more real people. Encountering people and building relationships with them is natural, not staged or forced. The early church grew, not because of programs, or crusades, or organizational skills. It grew because it was organic.

EDUCATION (vs. 20a): “teaching them to obey. . ..” Notice the emphatic use of the strong words by Jesus, obey and command. There is nothing prescribed or enforced about the method of teaching or style of ministry, but we are expected to educate others. How did people learn at the time of Christ? They learned by watching and listening. A disciple or learner was an apprentice, in close relationship with a mentor. There are those who will point to the Greek word didasko (teaching, vs. 20a) to indicate a particular didactic style of teaching. However, it is clear that Jesus used a variety of methods to teach, based upon the need for information and condition of the learner. We have an obligation to teach, and content is more important than the style of delivery. The very task of educating all types of people in all settings with the most important message requires a more fluid, organic approach.

EXPERIENCE (vs. 20b): “surely I am with you always. . ..” The continued presence of God within the community of believers and in the lives of individual believers may provide the very best antidote to skeptical or apathetic individual objections to faith in Christ. Cerebral protestations to the Gospel or even toward the idea of theism find themselves usurped by personal experience. When the church recognizes that part of our mission involves taking Jesus with us into the marketplaces and private spaces of our lives, we will influence others toward faith in him. People took note of the early believers and recognized that “they had been with Jesus.” (Acts 4:13)

The writer of Hebrews tells us that, “without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” (Hebrews 11:6 NIV)

How could a return to these simple organic concepts Jesus so clearly explained help us reach into the lives of people who otherwise will persist in their unbelief? What if we truly loved the world as much as God does, and edited our mission statements in light of these truths? What if we examined our personal mission in the same light? We may discover that our core values and mission change when we learn the true value of those things we might ordinarily throw away.

©2011 Don Detrick

Technology, Shop Class, Soulcraft, and the Nazareth Carpenter

An ordinary day in my life revolves around a core of technology. While interacting with actual human beings in a virtual way, my working and waking hours are often spent answering e-mails, browsing webpages, articles or books on my iPad, talking on my iPhone, or videoconferencing with people half a continent away. I take pictures and video with my digital devices and send tweets and posts to Facebook while writing manuscripts, policies, or correspondence at my computer keyboard. My ordinary life is just that, ordinary. There is nothing unique about my ordinary life because it is also the ordinary life of billions of people in this second decade of the twenty-first century who now work in environments that require technological sophistication with its continual evolution and demanding learning curve.

But it is far from an ordinary day in my life thirty years ago, when my interactions with electronic technology were limited to listening to a transistor radio, putting a cassette tape in a stereo, or playing “Pong” on a black and white video screen. Ordinary people seldom encountered sophisticated technology in those days, and those encounters were often fraught with suspicion. If you are old enough, you remember how computers were blamed for everything back in the day. If there was a mistake in billing or business, a computer was generally faulted—not a pc, but an impersonal, monstrous machine that inhabited some corporate cave far from the world of real, ordinary people. Things have changed. Today you’d be hard pressed to convince the throngs of people lined up to spend their dollars at an Apple store that the cleanly displayed devices will bring them nothing but trouble.

Luddites do not receive much sympathy from me. Personally, I generally have been quick to embrace technological change, choosing to believe the benefits outweigh the challenges in the long run. I must admit it took me a while to eliminate my Smith Corona typewriter from my personal inventory, but after my first PC back in 1990, I decided to never turn back to the old ways of communication or putting words on paper. Nor do I subscribe to various conspiracy theories about the inherent slippery slope of technology. What could be used for evil, also could offer generous rewards if used properly.

Although our ordinary lives look far different from the ordinary lives of people a generation or two ago, much remains the same. While technology has improved the methods, we still must wash our clothes, prepare our food, earn a living, travel to our destinations, and learn to get along, just like people have done for centuries. At the end of the day, we still lay down our tired bodies to sleep, while our troubled minds reflect many of the same questions our ancestors pondered about truth, love, family, purpose, and meaning.

In our sophisticated, technologically empowered scientific world, it may seem irrelevant to reflect on the life of a humble carpenter from a small Middle Eastern village who lived 2,000 years ago. But does our scientific acumen and technological prowess really trump those questions we ponder as we lie in our beds with the lights out while the iPhone and iPad are charging in silent mode? Does it matter what I believe about Jesus Christ? Dallas Willard answers that question in The Divine Conspiracy by explaining, “He matters because of what he brought and what he still brings to ordinary human beings, living their ordinary lives and coping daily with their surroundings.”

Over the past year I’ve returned several times to a small recent volume by Matthew B. Crawford titled, Shop Class as Soulcraft. In it he laments the decline of shop or industrial arts classes in public education. He also notes the dismaying fact that our growing dependence upon technology makes it virtually impossible for the average person to actually understand how the devices that we depend upon for our ordinary existence work, let alone how to repair them if they fail us. That makes us more and more dependent upon experts to keep our ordinary lives moving along.

For example, when I look under the hood of my 2009 model Honda, little besides checking the oil makes much sense to me. Compare that to my old ’55 Chevy pickup, where I dissembled and repaired almost every component pertaining to the engine, transmission, and drive train with ordinary tools found in my toolbox. I still have the tools and toolbox, but the sophisticated technology of today’s automobile makes them relics without the knowledge of how the computers and onboard electronics actually make everything mechanical work.

At the beginning of the book Crawford quotes an unknown shop teacher: “In schools, we create artificial learning environments for our children that they know to be contrived and undeserving of their full attention and engagement. Without the opportunity to learn through their hands, the world remains abstract, and distant, and the passions for learning will not be engaged.”

Thus, he sounds a nostalgic chord by reminding me of the importance of working with your hands and using hand tools—enduring lessons I learned in junior high shop class. Our teacher, Sandy Brown, provided a daily illustration of the importance of shop safety as we observed the missing digits from his always animated hands, fingers lost through careless interactions with a power saw blade in his younger, pre-teacher days.

Besides safety concerns, he instilled in me the importance of creating a plan of procedure, a list of materials, a budget, and using the right tool for the right job. In short, shop class helped prepare me for the most fundamental and practical components of living an ordinary life. As I work in my shop today, I am reminded of those practical lessons and their timeless application to transform ordinary work into accomplished works of art.

I wonder what it would be like to see a door, shelf, or table built by Jesus Christ? How did the Creator of the universe make his mark of master craftsmanship upon a simple piece of furniture? Did it stand out from the work of all others, or did it appear ordinary? What did an ordinary day in his life look like as he interacted with customers, raw materials, and the tools of the trade? Did he take pride in his work? Did he think of just snapping his fingers to create a modern, twenty-first century shop with all the latest machinery, or better yet, just order a few angels to do the work? Such speculation aside, the important lesson of the incarnation remains that God himself so valued simple, creative, and ordinary work that he took no shortcuts in creating simple structures and furnishings, using equally simple tools of the first century.

In contrast, my days are filled with the busyness that technology affords to accomplish a myriad of tasks. Perhaps it is just the nature of my work with human beings in the church world, but at the end of the day I am sometimes hard pressed to see any tangible results from my efforts. Without an underlying eternal purpose to my activities for perspective, my soul is left void of an emotional sense of worth or genuine accomplishment.

Yet I nostalgically remember a simpler era, when as a young laborer working in construction or in a sawmill I could see the tangible results of a job well done, leaving me emotionally satisfied. My own father was both a farmer and a roofer. Both occupations offered opportunities to observe the tangible results of manual labor. You could see it in the rows of a crop, or in the rows of chicken houses and barns he built with his own hands. As we drove down the main street of our small town, he would point out the houses and businesses that bore his mark of craftsmanship as their crown.

Perhaps what is missing today is that balance that leverages the best parts of technology with the accomplishment of a satisfied soul. For me, Jesus Christ helps bridge that gap. Our most stunning advances in technology and science are no surprise to him. When I lay down to rest at night, I can do so with the sense that there is a purpose in it all, and while I don’t have all the answers to all the questions, I do know the One who does, and that makes all the difference.

As a carpenter, Jesus no doubt crafted many wooden ox yokes, enabling farmers of the day to have the best current technology could offer as they used their oxen to plow. Humble, ordinary objects, and humble, ordinary work, that’s what it was. And that makes his invitation in Matthew 11:28-29 even more significant, as he offered his own yoke, normally used to bear a burden of work, to provide rest for your soul—your thoughts, decisions, and emotions. The irony of using a metaphor for work as a symbol for rest provides a lesson for technologically advanced, but soul weary human beings today. His invitation still stands, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28-29 NKJV)

©2011 Don Detrick