our congregation as an unbaptized 30-year-old, curi- ous about our “catechumenal process,” an ancient way of welcoming new disciples that has its origins in the early church and now finds slow recovery in Roman Catho- lic, Lutheran, Episcopal and Methodist churches. It’s a protracted conversion process where participants meet weekly for roughly eight months with a skilled catechist who guides participants through four stages and various public worship rites, culminating with baptism at the Easter Vigil. Mark was an exceptionally bright thinker. He asked


excellent questions and wrote a stunning spiritual autobi- ography that the group talked about at length. Toward the end of the second stage of the process, just


before the beginning of Lent, Mark informed the group he was leaving. He had decided against baptism. Mark took time to explain his reasoning, but true to the nature of the group, no one tried to talk him out of his decision. We all agreed to pray for a week. When Mark returned


the following Wednesday with the same decision, the group gathered around him, shared a powerful blessing, made sure he knew he was still welcome at worship, and watched him walk out the door into the night. It was an incredibly tough thing to watch. I’ve not seen Mark since that night but have heard he’s doing OK in his chosen life. It’s critical in a new era of evangelism for church


leaders to clearly describe what it means to follow Jesus. Describing such a life for a potential convert requires plenty of time—time for the convert to understand what she is getting into even if that means running the risk that this inquirer may ultimately reject what we’ve so pains- takingly described. One of the truest lines in author C.S. Lewis’ Te


Screwtape Letters is: “God cannot ravish. He can only woo.” I’m convinced that the process described with Mark, however painful, is ultimately more faithful than an “express conversion” where church members quickly vanish soon aſter an indiscriminate baptism or a hastily planned “New Member Sunday.” (Confession: I’ve partici- pated pastorally in both and neither feels less faithful to me than watching someone like Mark walk out the door.) Tere has been no opportunity offered for a potential convert to count the cost of following Jesus.


Self-examination Second, it’s important for church leaders to regularly examine their own theological convictions, name their doubts aloud with a trusted friend, and confess their ongoing struggles in following Jesus. Again, the church year is incredibly helpful here, rubbing my nose in central


theological tenets on a regular basis. When she was a little, I bought my daughter Marta


a genuine ant farm from the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. We prepared the farm exactly according to directions and waited in great expectation for the wiggly insects to arrive in the mail. We fed them on schedule. Liſted the lid and gave them water at precise intervals. Watched as they built intricate tunnels. Slowly, in spite of our doting efforts, the ants began to


die. We watched helplessly as our little friends croaked one by one. It even became rather gruesome as the living ants began to eat their fallen comrades. Te Donner Party in miniature. It was one thing for my daughter to watch and inter-


pret all this. But my theological angle on the whole scene quickly conjured God’s vantage point on the world. One who provided food and water and community, over the millennia “liſting the lid” so to speak on an imperfect world. Watching the drama of my daughter’s ant farm caused


me to ponder the theological drama played out annu- ally in the church year and how confusing the story can sometimes be for folk brand-new to church life. God, with infinite power, could have done any number


of impressive things to address a dying world. But God chose to embrace weakness and foolishness and lowliness (1 Corinthians 1:26-31) to get the world’s attention. God “liſted the lid” and sent us an unusual teacher whose life and death surprisingly trumped all earthly power. Te strange power of the cross. I preach this and the congregational community


weekly confesses this as truth. But to many outside the church, such proclamation seems as silly as my daughter and me liſting the lid of her ant farm and tossing those struggling for life nothing more than another dead ant. A principle task of the church in a new century is not


so much formation but counter-formation. To embrace the cross as “God’s power” crazily goes against the grain of so much we’ve been taught and so much we’ve experi- enced. To be baptized into the death of Christ (Romans 6) is fundamentally countercultural and strange for any potential convert, but also for those who dare to lead the community, the assembly of folk into which that convert will be immersed. Minimally, this requires lots of honesty about our doubts, our confusion, and our personal flashes of insight regarding discipleship.


Get to know outsiders Tird, it’s important for congregations serious about


August 2014 19 20 


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