Bro, the wilderness surfaces in my own writing a lot. And yeah, it’s where God is moving. A friend of mine in Orlando is trying to start a Christian rock band that will focus on the outskirts, the lost, but the people responding want to stay in the camp. Jesus ate with tax collectors and prostitutes, but our modern church culture (especially Pentecostals) gatekeeps the glory of God. I forget where in Proverbs it is, but it fits: “where there are no oxen, the stable is clean; but from the strength of the oxen come abundant harvests.” Ministry is messy because people are messy. We can’t be afraid of getting dirty.
That verse is my jam! I use it regularly. I once had an elder complain to me that the youth left a mess after an event. I quoted that verse to him. He just stared at me like he didn’t get it. I didn’t explain it and just left him to think about it.
I recall some media from decades ago that described church ministry as either the scout riding out into fresh wild territory or the covered wagons trundling slowly behind, often stopping to form a protective circle. I've often imagined my own ministry as a boundary rider, opening closed gates, more often from within, but sometimes from without. I have most often found God at the perimeter rather than the centre of institutional enterprises.
Bro, the wilderness surfaces in my own writing a lot. And yeah, it’s where God is moving. A friend of mine in Orlando is trying to start a Christian rock band that will focus on the outskirts, the lost, but the people responding want to stay in the camp. Jesus ate with tax collectors and prostitutes, but our modern church culture (especially Pentecostals) gatekeeps the glory of God. I forget where in Proverbs it is, but it fits: “where there are no oxen, the stable is clean; but from the strength of the oxen come abundant harvests.” Ministry is messy because people are messy. We can’t be afraid of getting dirty.
That verse is my jam! I use it regularly. I once had an elder complain to me that the youth left a mess after an event. I quoted that verse to him. He just stared at me like he didn’t get it. I didn’t explain it and just left him to think about it.
I recall some media from decades ago that described church ministry as either the scout riding out into fresh wild territory or the covered wagons trundling slowly behind, often stopping to form a protective circle. I've often imagined my own ministry as a boundary rider, opening closed gates, more often from within, but sometimes from without. I have most often found God at the perimeter rather than the centre of institutional enterprises.