The church, a church

8/9/11

Briar Street

Sunday evening dinner has become Sunday evening dinner and Bible study.  For the past five weeks, our faithful group of about ten friends and neighbors has eaten together at our apartment and then read and discussed a chapter of the book of Mark.  After that we break up to pray for each other in small groups and then come back together for a final prayer.

We have been hoping that this group will grow into a regularly meeting church congregation.  Two weeks ago, we had a discussion about what a church is and what a church does.  I prepared to share several of the typical arguments and reasons why we can call ourselves a church even through our sanctuary is also our living room: Where ever two or three are gathered in my name; there I am with them; a church is a group of people not a building; we are already doing things a church does; etc.

To our surprise, however, our congregation needed no convincing to accept that we are a church.  In fact, one lady made the rest of the people go around and say why they liked “this church” better than other churches they had attended.  It probably isn’t healthy to go bashing other churches to promote our church, but the theme of what most people said is that they enjoy the informality and the personal interactions that more naturally arise over a bowl of chili than across the pew and across the coffee table than across the aisle.

So here we are: Briar Street Anglican church. Eleven months after moving into our apartment and praying for our neighborhood.

True Submission

‘…the Lord has sent me to bring good news to the poor, he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound…’

-Isaiah 61:1

I have recently been reading ‘Celebration of Discipline’ by Richard J. Foster. In the book Foster talks extensively about submission. He asserts that true submission is liberating and gives us the freedom to serve, value and take greater interest in other people. It allows us to love unconditionally, not relying on receiving anything in return to make ourselves feel worthy. It is obedience to Christ then, that sets us free. It is a wholehearted submission to his call of discipleship that opens the prison to those who are bound.

In the lead up to our first bible study at Briar Street I was somewhat nervous about what would happen. Not only was it to be our first explicitly Christian meeting, but ours was also a very unlikely group of people who would not be expected to ‘gel’ in any normal setting. The demographic goes a little like this: A middle aged Puerto Rican woman and her teenage Puerto Rican-Mexican niece and nephew, a middle-aged African American pentecostal woman, a single Mexican man who speaks no English, four white Americans and a token Brit. What striking diversity! Within the group there is also a wide range of brokeness, some of which is very painful and deep-rooted.

So it was in submission to Christ, not through much confidence in our ability to bring these people together, that I approached the evening. How freeing to be able to commit the bible study into God’s hands and not feel the pressure of having to live up to any level of expectation. We started with a meal, which is our normal Sunday night community activity, then moved on to some singing. I have never experienced anything quite like the worship on Sunday night. It was brought to life so brilliantly through the vibrance and energy of the participants that it was hard not to feel that God was present, evident in our joy. Songs finished with shouts of ‘Amen!’ and “Now that’s what I call praise and worship!’, a reaction that I have sadly never been exposed to in a ‘conventional’ church setting. For the study Jonathan simply took us through the first chapter of Mark, posing the two great questions of the book, ‘Who is Jesus?’ and ‘What does it mean to be a disciple?’. Input was high, and genuine, searching questions were asked about the passage that propelled us into useful and profound conversation about Jesus. This was followed by a period spent in small groups praying, a time that was filled with heartlfelt sharing of some serious issues. It was truly amazing to be able to pray for the healing power of Jesus in the lives of these people and trust that he is in the process of changing them.

As in Isaiah 61, Jesus is the one who proclaims ‘liberty to the captives’ and brings ‘good news to the poor’. Many of our friends at Briar Street are captives, and many of them are poor both spiritually and materially. However when we are able to submit to Jesus in the way that Foster talks about, knowing that through this we are best able to serve him, there is a release from from any spiritual shacklement that remains within us and a greater ability to partake in God’s saving work. Let us hope and pray that our friends will come to know the joy that is found in serving God through submission to him and his will, and the freedom that gives us to live and work to his praise and glory!

Posted by Nick Raven, British intern from the newly formed AMiE (Anglican Mission in England).

Briar St. Summer Update

By Mark

So, a lot has been happening here at Briar St. this summer.  As you read in our previous entry, our soccer camp went swimmingly and out of that we started a soccer team that practices on Wednesday evenings.  Little beknownst to us, our first soccer team practice turned out to also include our very first game.  One of the parents of one of our players had contacted a soccer team from Villa Park about playing us.  So with one week of practicing and playing together we embarked on our first match as a team.  We played well and took a 1-0 lead.  However, our lack of experience as a team maybe came into play as the other team scored a few goals near the end of the game to win 4-2.  All in all it was a good game and brought all kinds of people together and gave our team a sense of purpose for the future.

At our second soccer team practice, a Bible study in Spanish started to meet.  Jonathan floated the idea that while the kids do drills for the first part of the practice, the parents could study the Bible.  This seemed to met with interest, and for two weeks now, Jonathan and some of the parents have been studying the book of Mark.  As some of the parents have also expressed interest in improving their English, we are attempting to integrate our Spanish/English conversation club into the sidelines of the soccer team practice as well.

Another Bible study also started last week at our weekly Sunday dinner.  This one is in English, and we and some of our English-speaking friends are reading and learning the Bible together.

As you can see, the LORD is moving in our midst.  He is bringing people together.  He is providing all that we need to engage people.  And He is opening people’s hearts to His heart.  Thank you so much for your prayers on our behalf.  We very much appreciate them.

The Big Platoon

By Matt

Back in college, I belonged to a campus Christian group that gathered each week for Bible study, prayer, singing, and fellowship. One of my favorite memories from this time involves a girl, Meghan, who attended our meetings only sporadically. She was the sort of person who radiated joy and piety, but who often appeared understandably overwhelmed by the demands that accompany life at an academically rigorous place of learning. One week, Meghan meandered in as we were going around the room, taking prayer requests. Asked for her own requests as she sank into the nearest sofa, she smiled wearily and replied, in a tone mixing dreaminess and exhaustion, “The whole world, and everyone in it.”
            We all found this quite charmingly funny. The whole world, and everyone in it: Well, that pretty much covers everything! No need to go laboriously around the prayer circle each week, asking God’s blessing upon particular families, friends, and personal endeavors. Why not merge all our individual prayers into one comprehensive prayer for all humanity? Why not broaden our narrow horizons, and cast our concerns more widely?
            Meghan’s odd prayer request always comes to mind whenever I happen to notice a particular bumper sticker slogan whose popularity, best I can tell, is gaining momentum in evangelical circles, especially among the younger generations. I have in mind the slogan, “God Bless the Whole World,” or its close cousins, like “God Bless the Whole World—No Exceptions.” Perhaps you have driven past a car bearing this bumper sticker, and nodded in affirmation. Perhaps you have it plastered on your own car. Or perhaps you are just sympathetic to its message of broadminded benevolence. Please forgive me in advance, if you fit any of these descriptions, for I am going to offer a somewhat contrarian take on this phenomenon of asking God to bless, well, “the whole world, and everyone in it.”
            Quite plainly, “God Bless the Whole World” is meant as a rebuke to that mainstay of old-fashioned American patriotism, “God Bless America.” Why, it is wondered, should we ask God to shower blessings only upon our own country? Does this attitude not betray a callous indifference those parts of the globe enduring poverty, warfare, tyranny, and other forms of hardship? As Christians—as members of a church that transcends national, ethnic, class, and all other loyalties—surely we shouldn’t selfishly privilege our own welfare over the welfare of others. Surely we shouldn’t arrogantly presume that God wishes peace, prosperity, and justice for America alone.
            “God Bless America,” then, stands indicted for expressing a narrow loyalty to one’s own nation, rather than a universal loyalty to God’s global family. And a narrow loyalty to one’s own nation, it is said, can easily mutate into national idolatry, and encourage the excusing away of injustices committed at home and abroad.
            Certainly, national idolatry is no trifling matter. We Christians tend to be quite adamant about having no other gods than God. And if we are honest about the historical record, we will admit that a narrow nationalism, as distinct from a measured and introspective patriotism, can breed unseemly prejudices and acts of wickedness. Does this mean, then, that it’s time to retire “God Bless America”?
            I don’t believe so. To understand why, recall the prayer circle I mentioned earlier. Undoubtedly, though the passage of time has dimmed my memory, we entertained specific requests for ailing grandparents, stress-ridden friends, and many others who were weary and heavy-laden. Nobody in the group would have been offended by a specific prayer for an ailing grandparent, as opposed to a blanket prayer for all the ailing elderly people, everywhere. Nobody would have misconstrued concern for a particular person as an expression of callous indifference toward the rest of humanity. Had anyone seriously objected to this focus on familiar faces and places, and recommended praying solely for “the whole world, and everyone in it,” our reactions would have ranged from simple befuddlement to mild outrage.
            Nobody doubts that God welcomes prayers for objects of our affection—for our friends, relatives, neighbors, colleagues—even though these affections are less than universal in scope. Why, then, should it be thought wrongheaded or arrogant to petition God on behalf of our nation?
            I would not go to the extreme of supposing that God does not desire the occasional prayer for the entire world. It is, after all, his magnificent creation, and he loves every square inch. For most of us, though, prayers for “the whole world, and everyone in it” cannot possibly be sincere and heartfelt. For “the world” is too much a bloodless abstraction to command our loyalty and affection. We do not think of ourselves, primarily, as belonging to some vague, all-encompassing blob of “humanity.” Our identities flow from distinct social contexts, from particular attachments and obligations. We are foremost mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, northerners and southerners, Christians and Muslims, butchers, bakers, and candlestick-makers—and yes, citizens of the United States of America. If “God Bless America” must fall into disfavor, then at least let it be replaced with sentiments befitting our profoundest loves and loyalties, like “God Bless Glen Ellyn,” or “God Bless Briar Street.” By contrast, “God Bless the Whole World” conjures up an airy feeling of universalized benevolence more appropriate to insipid, beauty-pageant sermonizing than to the prayers of actual human beings.
            The British philosopher and statesman Edmund Burke spoke admiringly of life’s “little platoons,” those intimate settings—family, church, school, neighborhood, and local community—within which we learn to worship God, love others, and live virtuously. America, being a large, sprawling modern nation-state, is not exactly a little platoon. But it is the place where we live, and the place to whose flourishing we are rightly committed. And so long as we avoid idolatry, it is a proper, albeit secondary, object of our affection. As with other proper objects of our affection, we can ask God to bestow his blessings in good conscience.

This Week at Briar St.

By Jonathan

With the warmer weather and with kids out of school we are gearing up for increased ministry in the Briar Street neighborhood. Since moving in September of last year, we have slowly been building relationships and getting to know our neighbors simply as neighbors through weekly community dinners, barbecues, doing laundry in the laundry room, game nights and by being intentional in doing life in the neighborhood and being present. Through all this we have built some significant relationships with people of many different backgrounds. As a team we gather twice a week for prayer for the community and for our neighbors, seeing this as key ministry work. All this, building towards starting regular regular worship services possibly in the late summer.

This week we will be putting on a soccer camp in a nearby park for kids in the neighborhood, for both the apartments where we live (Irongate Apartments) as well as for the many homes and little apartment complexes that make up our larger neighborhood and which includes a large number of Indian/Pakistani immigrants.  

We appreciate your prayers for this soccer camp, for open doors of relationships and for the right timing to launch regular worship services. Thank you for your partnership in this adventure!

What Are You Doing?

By David

The world has no categories for the love of God.  Love confuses it.  It has no categories for God on a cross, nada for his prodigal sagrado corazon, nothing for a man laying done his life for his friends, for the way down being the way up, for the valley being a place of vision.  We shouldn’t be surprised then, when the Church, spouse of our Lord, born from his side on the cross, perplexes this world.

Let me put this to example.  Knowing my involvement at Briar St., an acquaintance asked me to tell her what we were doing, what projects we had planned.  Without thinking, I started talking about our weekly dinners, Spanish/English Conversation Club, and looming soccer camp.  She nodded and said, “oh, you’re like a social service agency.”  As she said that, and as we talked further, I realized what I had done for her.  I took the love of God and made it palatable, comprehensible, and I translated it to “service.”  At that moment, I put it into a category.

Social service is where people are are paid (mostly by the government) to accomplish projects.  Now, that sector may have its function, but I cannot think of a more distant relation to the Church.  What is significant about Briar St. (and about the Church at large) is not its capacity to accomplish projects or fix people.  It’s signifcance lies in its ability to do the often inane, backward, slow and self-sacrificial work of inviting people into the Divine life.  In the social service agency, you have clients.  In the Church, you have friends.  In the social service agency you have the power.  In the Church, the least will be the greatest.  In the social service agency, success is accomplishing projects.  In the Church, we revel in the Lord’s greatest trophy and treasure, the cross.

Do not be afraid to tell people that what you are doing is loving and leave it at that.  You may perplex them, and yourself, but at least you will have accomplished something.

Take a look around

By Zach

I live in a Mecca of evangelical Christianity. DuPage County, Illinois is home to countless churches, hoards of Christian organizations, several global-scale Christian publishers, the self-dubbed “Harvard” of Christian colleges, and hundreds if not thousands of inspiring, aspiring, and retiring theologians, ministers, academics, social workers, and missionaries. My town can be compared to Colorado Springs, CO or Grand Rapids, Michigan in that it is a hub of Christian activity whose ministries extend to almost every country of the world.

Despite living in this hive of Christian ministry, however, I keep running into Christians who have nothing to do. Numerous friends and colleagues have advanced degrees and specialized training in Christian ministry, yet feel like their skills and training are being underutilized and their desire to serve is going unmet. Many of us feel that the drone of Christian work we live in does little to provide an outlet for our efforts, talents, and gifts to be used for the kingdom of God.

 Nonetheless, I am constantly running into lonely, poor, bored, friendless people who have no Christian in their life encouraging them to be disciples of Christ. My neighbor who has lived and worked in the United States for ten years still can’t pronounce basic English phrases because he has had almost no native English-speaking friends to welcome him to our country. My globetrotting refugee friend who recently moved to West Virginia continues to call me for advice because he has no interaction with people there who can help him figure out his green card application. Donald, the WWII veteran who sat out in his garage every day I drove by his house, reached his 89^th birthday and then died before I could help him talk through the pain from his childhood family experiences and start to turn to the one who took all our pain upon himself.

 We all want to go away to foreign lands wracked with war and disease and despair and bring about some salvation, some repair, or some kind of therapeutic revolution. But maybe we really only are responsible for that which is before us. That means, however, that we really are responsible for that which is before us. Let’s ask our Father to make us notice the people around us and see the opportunities we have to serve the people we think are too boring to befriend, to difficult to hold a conversation with, or too much a part of the humdrum of daily life to be noticed.

 -Briar Street. 6/3/2011

What I Learned at Mission On Your Doorstep

By Mark

It was about a month ago that I attended the Mission On Your Doorstep conference (http://worldrelief.org/MissionOnYourDoorstep) sponsored by MOSAIC and World Relief.  This year’s conference theme was God’s Kingdom Without Borders.  It explored what it means for Christians to view themselves first and foremost as citizens of God’s Kingdom and how that should shape what we think about hospitality, nationality, immigration, changing neighborhoods, and poverty.  Going into the conference, I have to admit I wasn’t exactly sure what I would learn; I knew I would learn something, but I just wasn’t sure what.

I ended up being shaken in my beliefs about how the Church should welcome the stranger, about the issue of immigration, and most especially in my idea of what America should look like.  I really considered at the conference what the Bible has to say about welcoming the stranger.  I learned that many of the significant people in the Bible were strangers in foreign lands, including the people of Israel.  And because the people of Israel were once aliens in a foreign land, God wanted the people of Israel to care for and provide for the stranger in their own land.  This is just one example from many in the Bible that God cares for and loves the stranger.

With this reality in mind, what does this mean for the Church in our day?  While the heart of God for the stranger can express itself in many ways in the Church, one way I was especially struck by this was in the area of immigration.   I had always considered immigration to be a political/economic issue, but at the conference the discontinuity between my belief that God welcomes the stranger and my belief that immigration is purely a political/economic issue was brought to the fore.

Why did I believe that immigration was a purely political/economic issue?  The LORD revealed to me that one of the reasons why I chose to think about immigration as a political/economic issue was because I was afraid, on some level, of the stranger and of what their presence in my country might do.  Implicit in my fear was a kind of “tacit racism” that saw America as a Caucasian country.  Thankfully the LORD revealed this fear and “tacit racism”, and I was able to confess, repent, and receive His forgiveness.  I, with the help of this conference, was able to receive some ideas on how to welcome the stranger, how to think biblically about the issue of immigration, and how to have a fuller understanding of and appreciate the Church in its multi-faceted differences.  Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!

Reversing Babel

By Jonathan

Our usual Sunday community dinners at Briar Street have been anything but usual. Each week we are excited to see what surprises the Lord will bring through our neighbors. This last week found us after dinner sitting in a circle in our living room with notebooks and p

ens in hand learning Spanish from Gerardo. We should have seen it coming when Gerardo, one of our Mexican neighbors, walked in for dinn

er carrying two plastic bags full of classroom supplies. He had markers (which later turned our living room windows into art canvasses thanks to one of the kids), notebooks, pencils and a large piece of foam board

which he converted into a make-shift white board. It was quite amazing to see how much ingenuity and planning he had put into this.

At Briar Street as we prepare to launch weekly services hopefully by the end of the summer we have begun to study together the book of Acts with some of our neighbors. One of the first things we realized is that it is the Holy Spirit who really plants a church. In one sense, for any of us to call ourselves “church planters” is a bit presumptuous. It’s kind of like someone claiming they can make babies all on their own. We were also surprised to see that one of the first ways the Holy Spirit reveals his power is by giving the disciples the

ability to speak in other languages. The book of Acts begins with this statement in 1:8:  “you will receive power when th

e Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses.” This power is then demonstrated through the reversal of the tower of Babel and the ability the disciples have to be witnesses in many different languages. It seems, then, that learning another language (such as Spanish) is an activity very in step with the workings of the Spirit.

Many churches in an attempt to reach out to their diverse community begin ESL (english as a second language ) classes. We are talking about eventually doing so ourselves as well at Briar Street Anglican Church. But I think it is worth noting that we began our ministry at Briar Street not by teaching English, but rather by putting ourselves under Gerardo’s teaching and learning Spanish. I think this makes the Holy Spirit smile.

Loving Our Neighbors, and the Truth

By Matt Reynolds

Plans are in place to erect a mosque just a stone’s throw from the Briar Street neighborhood. Earlier this week, county zoning officials hosted a meeting at which local residents volunteered their concerns about such issues as the proposed facility’s potential impact on traffic patterns.

Of course, when Christians dwell on the possibility of Muslim houses of worship taking root nearby, their thoughts readily turn to matters much weightier than zoning restrictions and building codes. As followers of Jesus, we rightly wonder how we should interact with people and institutions whose faith differs so radically. We may feel a deep sense of foreboding, or even the fires of outright hostility, bubbling up inside.

Although these quite natural passions need to be disciplined, they do point to an important, if uncomfortable, reality. However out of step with modern sensibilities, it must be said that Christianity posits faith in Jesus as the only path to salvation. Which means that Islam, in teaching something other than faith in Jesus, is teaching something dangerously false. As lovers of the truth of Christ, we cannot adopt an easygoing neutrality toward doctrines that mislead. We cannot help feeling that sense of foreboding.

Regrettably, some Christians feel pressured to affect a smiling, even celebratory attitude toward the progress of Islam in America, lest they be branded intolerant bigots. They feel pressured to coo fawningly about supposed advances in interfaith understanding. Quite often, the pressure comes less from secular elites than from fellow believers, many of whom court the approbation of secular elites, or otherwise wish to congratulate themselves on holding enlightened opinions. Whatever the source of the pressure, we need not succumb. When mosques are built—when Islam is preached and practiced—the cause of Christ suffers. That’s nothing to be happy about, and we shouldn’t be embarrassed to admit it.

And yet, while Christian faith necessarily entails opposition to Islam, such opposition, if heedlessly indulged, can take forms diametrically opposed to Christian principles. One can sympathize with the desire to keep mosques a suitable distance from places like Ground Zero in New York City, which symbolize Islam’s violent, jihadist dimensions. Reasonable people can disagree on the propriety of what has come to be known, colloquially, as the “Ground Zero Mosque.” Elsewhere in the country, however, Christians have opposed the construction of mosques for reasons scarcely more sophisticated than mere aversion to Islam. Plenty of people, reaching for the convenient vocabulary of political correctness, have labeled this aversion as “intolerant.” Christians must go further, and label it “un-Christian.”

For Christians, promotion of religious freedom and tolerance of religious minorities are not optional commitments. They are essential to the very faith we profess. We believe, with the skeptical Thomas Jefferson, that “Almighty God hath made the mind free; that all attempts to influence it by temporal punishments or burthens, or by civil incapacitations” are “a departure from the Holy author of our religion.” By practicing tolerance of other religions, we do not compromise our Christian beliefs one iota.

The late Richard John Neuhaus understood this well. There is no “tradeoff between truth and tolerance,” he wrote, since tolerance is mandated by the truth that “everyone is a child of God that consciences are not to be coerced, and even terribly wrong opinions are to be tolerated out of respect for the human dignity of those who hold them.” Many people regard religious freedom as a secular triumph secured against fierce headwinds of religious opposition. But that isn’t right. It is chiefly “a religious restraint,” Neuhaus noted, “that prevents biblical believers from coercing others in matters of conscience. For example, we do not kill one another over disagreements about the will of God because we believe it is the will of God that we should not kill one another over disagreements about the will of God.”

The God-given dignity possessed by our Muslim neighbors does not require us to embrace the tenets of Islam. Nor does it require us to mouth vapid, feel-good platitudes akin to that silly, ubiquitous “COEXIST” bumper sticker. But surely it requires us not to suppress the building of mosques by resorting to various “civil incapacitations.”