Choosing Kingdom values over sentimentality. We all have an old favourite sweater or T-shirt. It’s ugly, smelly and possibly even a health hazard. People on the outside looking in can’t quite figure out why you wear it. It’s so obviously disgusting to the casual passer-by. But because we knew it when it was young, we love it. It brings us comfort and helps us feel safe, even though it might very well be making us sick.

It’s quite possible that the way we do church today-the way we dress, think, act, engage, respond, program, build, preach, spend, save and lead-may be like that “old sweater” that no longer makes any sense but somehow makes us feel comfortable.

I believe we have so many “old sweaters” kicking around now that we can barely see the gospel for what it is. The bugs and vermin that have found a place to curl up and live in our cozy garments have passed on so much disease that we are too sick to even know we’re sick.

Leadership, Buildings and Programs
What “old sweaters” or “sacred cows” might I be referring to? Well, what about our fixation on “leadership”? I know there is a huge leadership vacuum in the Church right now, but how is it possible that the Christian leadership discourse focuses on the individual and on power? How have we bought into business models for leadership and not Kingdom ones? Why have we defined success by church growth or glowing stats from our program? Whatever happened to the model Jesus set for us? Why can’t we shift our focus from being results-oriented leaders to those who wash each other’s feet? Even the attempt at changing the language to servant or coaching leadership is often just top-down hierarchical, power-based, results-oriented direction. Maybe this is exactly why our leadership pool is so shallow these days; perhaps we’ve lost sight of the Kingdom leadership values that turn cultural values upside down.

And is anyone else wondering if we’ve become obsessed with “health and safety” these days? I’ve been to more meetings these past two years on disaster/pandemic planning and health and safety than I care to remember. I can’t quite find in the Gospels, or anywhere in the Bible for that matter, anywhere near the concern we have today for this issue. Now before anyone judges me as someone who doesn’t want to protect his staff, I do take these matters seriously. We have taken all the necessary health and safety precautions. However, Jesus never said ministry was safe. In fact, from what I read, a journey with Jesus is a journey to the cross. I believe it’s very likely that within the next decade, a Christian worker in Toronto will die to gun violence. Should we then pack up our bags and leave the inner city, or is this exactly where Jesus would have us?

What about our love affair with buildings and programs? Do we find our comfort in size and systems? The heart of the gospel seems to be in organic communal care and response to each other’s needs, gifts, hopes and dreams. But as soon as something proves to be successful, we box up the program, package it, market it and sell it. Our chaplain here at The Gateway shelter spends a lot of time mentoring kids in and out of jails. He does this in response to the issues he’s observed with the ones he’s met in prisons and ghettos. He now is regularly asked to visit congregations to do “mentoring sessions” with churchgoers. I can see the church bulletin now: “Mentoring Program starting in September. Come out for four weeks and learn to be a mentor. Only $50 for the cost of materials and light refreshments.”

Our Response to the Poor
Nearest and dearest to my heart is how we respond to the poor among us. Do we really think that our leadership training modules and mentoring programs and Salvation Army uniforms and our sheltering facilities mean anything to the poor? (I should say that tangentially these things matter in that a person feels welcomed and loved and respected if their surroundings and programs appear to be well kept and designed with care.)

Henri Nouwen pointed out that Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor”-he didn’t say, “Blessed are those who care for the poor.” Jesus also said, “Blessed are they that mourn”-he didn’t say, “Blessed are those who comfort those who mourn.” Those are positions of power, not vulnerability. They are often sentimental positions and not necessarily Kingdom ones.

Radicalness
Finally, the most recent emerging sacred cow is that of “radicalness.” What it seems to be amounting to is a marketed counter-culture that is trendy and still based on consuming goods and making celebrities. To be considered “radical” these days is often merely in attending an SAROOTS conference or reading a Shane Claiborne book or listening to Sufjan Stevens CDs.

Whether a person makes changes in their lives is not what defines “counter-cultural” these days. It’s simply whether or not you purchased and read the book or attended the conference or know the lyrics to Sufjan Stevens songs. (To be clear, the SAROOTS organizers, Shane Claiborne and Sufjan Stevens don’t want this.) It’s cool to be radical and the marketplace has once again capitalized on it. It’s already becoming an “old sweater.”

Writing this has caused me to be challenged myself. I like being known as a leader, writer, singer and speaker. But when people ask me for my bio should I respond by saying, “I’m Dion Oxford and I have this title and these many accomplishments”? Or should I respond by saying, “I’m Dion Oxford and I am a Spirit-filled member of the body of Christ”?

I’ve also at times thought of myself as radical. But perhaps, as a good friend of mine recently pointed out, I’ll only be truly radical when I find myself nailed to a cross. And then it won’t really matter anymore.

Bittersweet Encounters on the Street

The following are some glimpses into my journey alongside some of the most marginalized people among us:
• I once chatted with a girl as she worked the street. She told my friend and me that we were her angels sent from God to speak with her that night. Then she walked away and got into a man’s car and drove off.
• I met a man who claimed to have invited Jesus into his heart. Then a few weeks later he announced that he asked Jesus to leave his heart as it was just too dark a place for Jesus to be. His theology is really off, but what a lesson in humility!
• One day in chapel a man was whistling along to the songs we were singing. The whistling was musically painful. When I finally figured out who it was, I realized he was whistling because he can’t speak English and this was his way of participating. Then the whistling became music.
• One Christmas Eve my family was handing out Christmas gifts to people on the street. My then-three-year-old daughter wept at the sight of people sleeping outside in the cold.
• There once was a man who came to chapel every Wednesday night so we could pray for his constipation. And every week we did.
• Several men, when they have chosen to quit smoking crack, have offered me their pipe as a gift and as a sign that they were serious about quitting. I still have those pipes in a sacred place.
• A man we were escorting off the premises threw a giant rock down the steps after us. It could have killed someone had he made contact. It reminded me of the utter desperation of street life.
• I had lunch with a man in the shelter who explained the Boston Tea Party to me. I never knew what it was before that day.
• Another day I had lunch with a man who claimed to be the son of God ...

No program or training module could have ever brought me into such close proximity to Jesus as these experiences have done.

by Dion Oxford, Director, The Gateway, Toronto

Reprinted from Salvationist, November 2007