whole gospel – whole church – whole city

[I originally shared this as part of a City Collectives Retreat with leaders from Wellington, Tauranga, Invercargill and Auckland. It is a letter that draws from snippets of 1st century church history, and seeks to imagine what the Apostle Paul might say to modern Christian leaders seeking to pursue unified mission at a city level.]

Letter from the ‘Corinth Church Network’

Paul, a fellow slave in the Gospel, by the hand of Tertius my faithful collaborator and scribe, To those called to serve church networks in the cities of Aotearoa New Zealand.

I pray, as you partner together for the Father’s purpose, that the Gospel may continue to bear fruit in Invercargill & Tauranga, Wellington & Auckland; just as it has in our City Gospel Networks in Jerusalem & Antioch, Thessalonica & Rome, Ephesus & Phillipi, and Corinth where I am currently writing from.

Our labour here as the ‘Corinth Church Network’ has not been without diƯiculty. You’ll find this anywhere you have many gatherings of believers in a single city. I do not want you to be unaware of both the blessings and the challenges you are likely to face as you collaborate for His glory in your cities. So yes, I will dare to boast to you of our experiences of God’s power, which are always found in the midst of weakness, not strength.

I am not ashamed of the Gospel. Deeper than the gospel of Caesar in my time, or the gospel of consumption or the myth of progress in your time. The gospel is the gospel of Jesus. The good news that Jesus is Lord. This news has profound implications both for humanity and the whole creation. Yes, the whole gospel has holistic implications. Not simply for the afterlife, as even Greeks believe, but for a New Life that transforms minds, hearts, spirits, souls… and raises bodies, marriages, families, communities, cities and ultimately heaven and earth.

You have a few really useful creeds that express the dramatic, transcultural, trans-historic scope of this gospel – from the Apostles, Nicea, Athanasius and more. I myself tucked a very short, very early, and very resurrection-focused creed in the fifteenth chapter of my letter to the Corinth Church Network. Resurrection is everything – without it we should all go do something else. The whole gospel hinges on resurrection. But as I said in the ending of that chapter, the truth of resurrection must lead to the ‘therefore’ of abounding in the work of the Lord.

There are so many ways to abound in Resurrection work in a city. Collaborative evangelism campaigns. Local food drives. Christmas floats. Partnership with social service orgs specialising in wrap around care. The whole spectrum. Timeless hope for eternity… and timely help for the poor.

This is the whole gospel. Sure, the Lord can use dreams and visions to directly implant this gospel in people’s imaginations. But his usual way of propagating it is through ordinary human messengers – the Church. The whole Church, in united and reconciled diversity is God’s ongoing evidence of resurrection. A beaming miracle of grace. The whole Gospel, displayed in the whole Church.

This gorgeous full display of the whole Gospel is wrecked by all forms of disunity – competition, comparison and division. Think of Peter’s mealtime hypocrisy at Antioch, or Euodia and Syntyche’s incessant bickering at Phillipi. These all had to be dealt with – directly and even publicly – no matter how awkward. Unity is that precious.

I’m not saying you can’t disagree or debate. Actually, that can be healthy. Don’t imagine, as so many do, that unity is some kind of effortless ‘good vibes only’ zone where there is no disagreement. Welcome – even invite disagreement within your teams and networks – that’s how you build trust, make people feel that they are not just serving your thing, and that’s how you begin to build unity that is truly collaborative and missional. Don’t assume you know what needs to be done all the time.

That sounds counter-intuitive to your ears, doesn’t it? It’s because your culture has a particular aversion to anything that stands in the way your own personal sovereign will and imagination. But proper debate and dialogue must be normal in the kingdom. Great things are on the other side of patient listening. One of our famous early disagreements about Gentiles, circumcision and law observance was worth having slowly. At this assembly in Jerusalem, Barnabas and I patiently worked through “much discussion” with the church, the apostles, and elders. We came out with an outstanding letter because we had the courage and patience for a full conversation. So then, as you plan, build, strategize, form, storm and norm, don’t rush. Hear people out. Move at Godspeed.

Not everyone that disagrees with you is being divisive or argumentative. Know the difference. Sure, sometimes we choose to work separately, like me and Barnabas or John Mark. But don’t permanently write one another off. Make every effort to unify.

There’s another huge mistake to stay aware of, made famous by some here at Corinth. They obsessed over Apollos, Peter, super apostles, and anyone with the prized abilities of knowledge and speaking. Their choices of who got to speak, and who was important sent a clear message of “I don’t need you” which – surprise, surprise, always leaves many feeling “I am not a part of the body.” This is travesty. I love to praise people, but I cannot praise this. In my letters to the Corinth and Rome Church Network, I went out of my way to name many members of the body. High and low. Male and female. Jew and Gentile. Servants and free-persons. Low-sounding names like Fortunatus (‘Lucky’), or simple servant names like Tertius and Quartus (‘third’ and ‘fourth’), deserve to be named alongside Erastus, the city’s director of public works. Name orators next to slaves. Speakers next to scribes. Hosts with guests. That’s the whole church.

Your city gospel movements must stretch and reach to the whole church in each city. Strive to acknowledge and associate with the names of churches and leaders that are less acknowledged. Don’t only associate with people from ‘thriving’ churches. Build teams where ‘average’ lead alongside ‘inspiring’ people. Don’t just tell success stories. City Church Networks, like individual Christians and Churches, rarely grow from strength to strength, but frequently through the usual mix of good bursts, small fizzles, pivots and improvements. It’s not about being amazing all the time.

Host prayer gatherings with all kinds of prayer styles, not just the ones that look great on Instagram. Take, for example, one of your recent moments of revival at Asbury. The gathering it started with was not glitzy. Jon Tyson called it a “badly run prayer meeting”; but… it had humility… sincerity… confession. Utter disregard for brand, logos, or celebrity. More of that please. I’m not saying we should worship with half-hearted complacency. Go hard. Spend money. Practice. Break your jars of precious ointment. But just beware the obsession with awesome people doing awesome things. It’s more Corinthian than Christian.

Most of your cities will have many kinds of believers. The things churches pride themselves on are often the very things that separate. Expertise in end time predictive prophecy. Obsession with spirit gifts and miracles. Exacting explanations of precisely how the Spirit is – or isn’t – present in bread and wine. Making a competition out of worship, preaching or social justice…

Why does all this matter? Because the how and who of our city church networking says something about the God we believe in. God is not only the God of Big bible names like Moses, Isaiah and David, but also Miriam, Amos and Nathan. Not only prophets, priests and kings, but also slaves, widows, orphans, strangers, farmers, rubbish collectors, waitresses, Uber drivers, tradies and truck drivers.

I’m not saying anyone can do anything. I’m just saying work hard at unity that is shocking, surprising and unexpected. That Aussie bloke Stuart Piggin is onto something. It’s never been about platforms, personalities or performers. Find ways to weave the tribes, the worship styles, and levels of cool. Catholics and charismatics. Robes and jandals. Affluent and awkward. Perfect haircuts and bad teeth. Why? Because it takes the whole Church to display the whole Gospel.

And finally, the whole Gospel summons the whole Church to and through the whole City. Churches and church networks should match the demographics of the context God has placed them in. Christians are drawn from the whole city… and sent back into the whole city.

I’ve already mentioned how diƯicult this was in the Corinth Church Network. The elite leaders didn’t like this. They loved high lofty leaders and super apostles who postured themselves like Greek sophists. They were addicted to gathering around big names from overseas. They wanted their gatherings to flow with the finest wine, food and philosophy as if church was a Symposium. They were happy to get gorged and drunk while others starved – some literally to death. I think I said it best when I wrote to the Rome Church Network to “associate with people of low status.”

Don’t get me wrong. We need generous hosts like Gaius. And yes, the gospel is advanced through strategic connections with civic leaders like Erastus. Yes, we can and should network with people outside our immediate spheres. But bi-vocational tradies and tent-makers like Aquila and Priscilla, young people like Timothy, people with past mistakes like Peter, Onesimus and John Mark – they are crucial to God’s work. Don’t overlook quiet, local and un-amazing wisdom.

Your cities, especially you, Auckland, are dripping with diversity of culture, income levels, language, interests and lots of struggle, isolation, pain and privilege. Be people of the whole city. Work hard at it. Go past the performative levels of diversity and compassion. Oh yes, learn Te Reo Māori by all means. God is delighted that this language renewal movement has become popular in your time. But also make the effort to learn a few greetings in NZ Sign Language, Korean, Mandarin Chinese, Fijian, Samoan and all you can. Don’t just occasionally enjoy their foods but get to know their histories. All the people… in all of the City. That’s how we begin on the long journey of living out the meaning of
Pentecost and the multi-cultural, multi-lingual reality of kingdom life the Spirit.

That, my dear friends, is my appeal to you. That is the pain, the challenge, the vision and the blessing of being City Gospel Movements.
Witnessing to the Whole Gospel.
Joining together with the Whole Church.
Reaching in blessing to the Whole City.

The Grace and Shalom of God be ever with you. Amen.

the good muslim

A Contemporary Targum of Luke 10:25-37

One day, an expert in theological ethics went to Jesus to test him. “Lord… How do I live in such a way that it looks like I am a part of the people aligned with heaven?. What’s the just and righteous way to live, here and now?”

“Do you have a Bible?” he replied, “Give me your hot take on biblical ethics.”

“Well, Jesus, as you know the Bible is a big book, filled with a lot of stories and moments that people debate this way and that. And ethics is complex, man! My doctoral thesis explores this in detail… of course…” The expert’s sentence trailed off… [At this point Jesus looked at the expert with a kind puzzled look, wondering if he was actually going to answer his question or not…] The expert regathered himself and continued… “But sure… yes… a summary… Yes, I do think… when you read it as one story… an overarching metanarrative… and let the obvious parts function as a lens to interpret the hard to-understand parts… I reckon the basic message of the Bible is all about love. Love as far up as you can imagine – to the God of all creation – with all you have; emotion, identity, action and intellect; and love other humans because that’s how you’d want to be treated too.”

“Impressive!” Jesus replied. “Now those are some good theological ethics, right there. If you put those ethical theories into practice, my friend, you’re on the right track.”

The religious expert instantly felt threatened. He wondered why Jesus had said ‘if’ he put that into practice. Was Jesus suggesting that he maybe wasn’t already putting his theology into practice? He was a good guy. He had good ‘balanced’ theology, after all… Surely Jesus agreed with him, right? So, to make sure he was right, he asked another question. “But Jesus… it’s not really that simple, right? I mean, whose ethical interpretation do I hold to? Surely you’re aware how hard ethical debates can be. Especially with the internet and social media echo chambers splitting us into tribes? Each one thinks ‘they’ are right and the ‘others’ are wrong, you know? Everyone defines ‘love’ differently… It’s grey chaos and feisty angst out there, right?”

In reply, Jesus told this story: “One morning, a drag queen was going to their day job. They weren’t wearing their drag outfit, make-up and bling, but a group of frat boys recognized the drag queen. ‘Hey,’ they said to one another, ‘it’s that drag queen who’s been in the news.” Their blood vessels and brain synapses surging with testosterone and ego, they mocked and teased the drag queen, getting up in their face, yelling and intimidating. The drag queen pushed them away asking to be left alone. That was all the boys needed to begin mercilessly beating him. Four on one, it was no contest. They ran away laughing, leaving the drag queen in blood-soaked tears.”‘

“From across the street, a minister had seen the last few seconds of the encounter. He was from a church that had the word ‘Bible’ in its name, and he had also watched the news stories about this drag queen. He prided himself that he would have never been violent like those frat boys, but reasoned that maybe this drag queen would learn from this and reflect on their actions. Tough love seemed a fitting response. So he put his head down and kept walking, thanking God that he had not gotten himself into the kind of mess that this poor drag queen had.”

“Walking right behind the minister was a well-known MP for a very left-leaning party. She had an urgent and confident pace, and was wearing a rainbow pin as an expression of her allyship to rainbow folk. She was head-down in her phone and hadn’t even noticed what was going on. A conservative family member had posted something negative about (ironically) the very drag queen who lay bleeding across the road. She was sharing that story on her own page, with her own corrective comments, soundly demonstrating that she was on the right side of history. She walked onwards, totally oblivious to the drag queen who lay distraught just a few meters away…”

“But then,” Jesus continued, “a Muslim was walking behind both the pastor and the MP. He had been out for his morning prayers and had seen the frat boys do their worst. He’d already phoned for help as he crossed the road to attend to the drag queen. When he reached the drag queen, the Muslim greeted him, ‘Hello, brother. I’ve called for some help. Is it OK if I check your wounds?” The Muslim sat down on the concrete sidewalk next to the drag queen and put his arm around them, providing serviettes he had in his pocket to stop the bleeding from the drag queen’s nose and mouth. He sat with them until the ambulance arrived. On his lunch break the next day, he visited the drag queen in the hospital and helped them contact their other friends and family who were eager to visit. Without posting on social media, he also secretly donated a sacrificial amount to an organisation set up to care for people who are victims of things like crime or discriminatory violence.”

Jesus paused and then asked the expert in religion a question: “Tell me which of these three, the minister, the MP or the Muslim… which one loved the drag queen as they would want to be loved?”

The expert in religious ethics hesitated. He was not only well-read in ethics and philosophy, but also apologetics. He knew with exacting certainty why he was a Christian and not a Muslim… Finally he mumbled, “Well, I suppose you’d have to say it was the third one, who… you know… helped him.”

Jesus looked at him with compassion and said, “Yes, that’s the one, my friend. This difficult and challenging teaching I’m giving you now is about action. Action that shows your beliefs have travelled from your brain to your gut. Action that directly and practically helps. Not just having ‘correct morals’ to win theological debates… Not mere ‘performative allyship’ to show the Metaverse how loving you are… Action. Real, humane action. Real compassion. Go and do likewise.”

the tempting evil of unforgiveness

In Matthew 6, Jesus gives masterful teaching about prayer. He understands with perfect clarity the way that our egos work as we relate to others in the world.

The usual form of the Lord’s Prayer that most of us know and use is a combination of the versions given here in Matthew 6 and in Luke 11. With this combined form in mind, Matthew’s version seems to end abruptly. And on top of this, the follow up teaching on forgiveness seems a bit late, coming after the final bit about temptation and evil. It can feel like the gospel writers (or Jesus) made a literary mistake and got the order of lines out of whack. Something like:

  • pray this way about forgiveness
  • and finally, pray also about temptation and evil
  • Oh yeah, rewind back to forgiveness, I got a tad more to say on that…

This apparent disorder vanishes when I recall that Jesus (and the gospel writers) were rather intelligent people, and when I recognise that unforgiveness is a very common, tempting, and evil tendency for humans.

Jesus, we must remember, is the one with the most important and accurate information on humanity. He knows precisely how our egos tend to judge others and justify ourselves. He knows this tendency is profoundly common, very tempting, and he rightly uses the language of ‘evil’ directly in the middle of it all. Positively, Jesus knows what how we must think, act, and pray to counter this. With the greatest urgency, we must learn, practice and keep practicing the art of being a forgiving person.

Jesus knows how natural it is for us to point the finger of judgment at ‘them’. Look at what ‘they’ did. He knows how quickly we assume that ‘we’ would not (indeed, could not) ever do what ‘they’ did. Jesus knows that if I insist that I could never do what ‘they’ did (to me or to others), then I don’t think I need the same kind of forgiveness that ‘they’ do. He knows how this self-righteous judgment blocks me from fully savoring – and sharing – the forgiveness that the Father so freely offers me.

So then, I can read these verses more like this…

“Forgive us our various kinds of sins, just as we keep on practicing forgiving others of their various kinds of sins.
After all, do we not all stand in need of forgiveness, and could we not all see ourselves in one another?
Keep us from being tempted away from forgiveness like this.
Deliver us from the evil One who is the source of all blame, finger-pointing, gossip, and discord.
Deliver us into the free and forgiving arms of You, our Father.”
For this is how forgiveness works. It has to be shared to be experienced. Your Father is eagerly watching and waiting for us to get our hearts in a posture that can receive forgiveness and share it. It just doesn’t work any other way.

cultural, bi-cultural, multi-cultural, trans-cultural?

The current legislative discussions around Te Tiriri o Waitangi / The Treaty of Waitangi seem to be about culture.

For David Seymour, his concern (legitimate or not) is that one way of interpreting the Treaty would award “special rights” based on “ancestry”, which he feels violates his understanding of equal rights for all individuals. He thinks Te Tiriti sets up one government (‘kawanatanga‘) for all. One set of laws for all. Equal rights for all. This language of equality is deeply intuitive to many. The debate centres on the extent, nature and scope of that government. My own suspicion, which I hold very lightly, is that the hesitance of some Māori to sign Te Tiriti, lends weight to the view that ‘te Kawanatanga katoa o o ratou wenua’ indeed refers to total (‘katoa’) government over the land (‘whenua’). According to this understanding, Māori were clear what was being proposed, but as some of their chiefs (rangatira) had travelled widely and were wisely aware how colonisation had negatively affected other peoples, were concerned about whether or not this proposed ‘Kawana’ (a loan word for the English ‘Governor’) was going to truly protect their best interests. Sadly it turned out that land was unjustly sold and taken.

For some (or even many) Māori and their allies seeking to honour Te Tiriti, the concern is that the current system of government fails to give them the voice, influence and self-determination (‘tino rangatiratanga‘) which they (as they see it) are promised in article two of Te Tiriti. From this point of view, the structure of Parliament and system for governing the country are not ‘neutral’ but reflect British/European culture. Te Tiriti is seen as a safeguard against European cultural dominance, promising that colonisation, immigration and settling of Europeans will not overwhelm or erase Māori people, lands, and ways of being.

Since 1840, when Te Tiriti was signed, many people from other cultures (Asian, African, ‘American’) have also migrated, which adds a multi-cultural expression to the nation.

So, reviewing, we have:

a) an indigenous culture which is promised a very real degree of ‘tino rangatiratanga’ (self-determination or ‘chiefly rule’) over their own lands, and a settler culture which is (arguably) given the right to exercise ‘kawanatanga’ (government) over the ‘wenua’ (land)
b) a Treaty that is rightly seen as ‘bi-cultural’ between the Queen of England and the United Tribes of Nu Tirani (New Zealand).
c) a modern multi-cultural reality where Te Tiriti gives migrants the right to call Aotearoa / New Zealand home.

Is there a ‘transcultural‘ layer in the mix?

One of the major active parties involved in the drafting, translation, negotiation and signing of Te Tiriti – that is the Missionaries, notably Henry Williams – were motivated by their understanding of The Gospel (Te Rongopai). Whilst Māori, as of 1840, would understandably be skeptical about what this proposed incoming ‘Kawanatanga‘ would mean for their people, the previous two decades had seen an overwhelmingly positive response to the incoming message of ‘Rongopai’. As leading Māori historian Monty Soutar argued at an event I attended in 2019, it is the height of Eurocentric condescension to argue that Māori were tricked into welcoming this foreign religion. He is well versed in the history of intelligent weighing and welcoming of the Gospel among his people. Some estimates are that up to 90% of Māori were Christian around 1840.

I take it as obvious that these 19th century agents of mission were imperfect (sometimes extremely so). They inherited, carried and expressed an assumption of cultural superiority. This is famously seen in Samuel Marsden’s estimation that Australian aboriginals were not developed enough to have the Gospel shared with them. Despite this, Māori (and Australian aboriginals too) were intelligently and wisely able to see beyond the messengers to the message, which so many of them saw as good for their people. Thus comes into focus the ability of the Gospel to be (as missiologist David Bosch describes) ‘infinitely translatable’.

Gambian missiologist Lamin Sanneh points out that, despite the very real assumptions of cultural superiority at work, the very act of translation of the Scriptures into the many languages and cultures the missionaries went was itself inherently humanising and preserving. This is a message that does not destroy culture as it is planted into it. In the first century, when a male, female, Jew, Gentile, slave or free person became a Christian, this did not meant that their male-ness or female-ness was erased or downgraded. Rather who they were was enhanced and arguably transformed. English folk become more human, more Christ-like English folk. Māori likewise arguably judged that their people would be enriched and humanized by Te Rongopai. That vision of a humanising movement was at the heart of humanitarian and Christian groups like The Clapham Sect, which had such an influence on the wording of Te Tiriti; demanding that indigenous peoples be protected.

So then, there seems to be a kind of parallel when it comes to the present debate. I can imagine that some, perhaps David Seymour, will be imagining that ‘Parliament’ or ‘the Government’ is transcultural – neutral – objective; and that it is this neutral ‘democratic’ equality that is obviously needed here. My strong suspicion is that there needs to be a fresh awareness that The Westminster system of Parliament is indeed aligned to a particular British cultural system and not ‘neutral’. What should it – what could it – look like instead to have a (bi-cultural / multi-cultural / trans-cultural) Kawanatanga where two things could be simultaneously a reality:

  1. all could share ‘democratically’ in the same universal and general rights under one Law,
  2. but in a way that properly and thoroughly preserves and protects the particular rights due to any and all peoples (starting with and never excluding iwi & hapu (tribe & sub-tribe) Māori who are explicitly protected in Article 2 of Te Tiriti)

I have no idea what this would look like, but it seems to beautifully smell like both Te Rongopai and Te Tiriti.