It’s been common over the past few decades for ministry in America to be passed along as standardized and generally non-pliable. The result has been cookie-cutter churches and cookie-cutter ministries following cookie-cutter patterns for growth – growth generally measured by counting how many people gather at specified meeting times
For decades, and even centuries, the prevailing religious culture has rewarded conformity with promotion while punishing innovation by marginalization. But even a casual journey through the Scriptures reveals that many of the men and women who did great things for God were marginalized by the majority. They were marginalized not because their work was ineffective, but because it didn’t look like what the prevailing minds thought it should look like.
Joseph had no pattern. Joseph was an insider in a pagan culture with no outside contacts for decades. His brothers wrote him off, yet he maintained integrity and faithfulness to his God, and became the saving agent for his generation. And he did all of it without a blueprint. Until Joseph, nobody knew what it looked like.
Philip was the first follower of Christ to actually follow Christ’s footsteps, taking the message to Samaria. As a result, Peter and John were sent in a delegation to confirm that Samaritans could actually take part in the kingdom of God. Meanwhile, Philip was already on the move, today enlightening the heart of an Ethiopian, tomorrow 25 miles up the road entering another town. Is it any wonder he fathered the only prophetesses mentioned in Acts?
Philip received a vision from God which looked distinctively different than the vision most of the other disciples had received. Peter considered himself cutting edge when he visited Cornelius, but he was actually light years behind Philip. Peter could walk into Cornelius’ house a little more confidently because of the picture Philip had painted.
Paul’s transforming vision of Jesus created a ministry that spread the message across the Roman Empire. None of the other disciples had imagined that possibility. They couldn’t fathom what that would look like. But Paul received the vision and acted on it. In Acts 15, Paul’s frustration is almost tangible as the disciples debate what conversion should look like. For Paul, the issue wasn’t theoretical – he’d been so busy carrying out the vision, he didn’t have time to stop and judge whether God was doing it properly. What does conversion look like? Paul knew it when he saw it.
And don’t forget: Jesus was so far outside the imagination and expectations of his own people that they rejected him with the ultimate rejection, handing him over to a pagan world to suffer one of the cruelest forms of capital punishment ever invented.
I recently watched a debate in which a highly-respected ranking official of a religious organization couldn’t engage in meaningful dialogue with those who held different doctrinal positions. Incapable of dialogue, he was reduced to reading talking points which had been prepared beforehand.
God didn’t create us and call us to recite talking points.
I listened as another organizational leader recently preached a rallying sermon by knocking off doctrinal points which were trademarks of his organization. The problem? Love didn’t make the list. Love – the lead-off hitter for both of the great commandments. Love – the apex of Paul’s triangle of what really matters.
Since hearing that sermon months ago, I’ve repeatedly pondered why love wouldn’t make the cut as a trademark of a denomination. The best I can come up with is that many people don’t know what love looks like, at least not enough to describe it accurately in a sermon. Since love is immeasurable, it’s relegated to an assumed status.
But Jesus never assumed love. He proclaimed love, demanded love. And John, the beloved disciple, decided it was possible to picture love – look at Jesus on the cross. That’s love, John wrote, the greatest love. That’s what love looks like. It took a long time for the disciples – John included – to realize that. But once they got it, it transformed their lives and their ministries.
What does your calling look like? What does it mean to do ministry in your setting – as a librarian, or a nurse, or a computer technician, or an actor, or a licensed minister?
What does ministry look like in Los Angeles? What does it look like in Boise or rural Ohio or suburban Philadelphia? The answer: there is no man-made pattern. God alone holds the pattern, the vision, and he desires to pour it into the hearts of his followers, those whom he has delegated to be his ambassadors in declaring the message.
Joel’s prophecy in chapter two wasn’t a recipe for revival. It was a promise, and an unnerving one at that. “Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days” (Joel 2:28-29, NIV). That’s not a pattern. That’s a wind that blows wherever it wants to blow, leading those who will be led to uncharted territories.
Someone has stated the best ways of doing ministry have not yet been discovered. God has called and chosen you to do something magnificent (see Ephesians 2:10). What does that look like?
Please, for the sake of the next generation, don’t let anyone convince you that there’s a pattern which has to be followed. Trust God’s Spirit to open your eyes.