The Kairos Circle

Our lives are made up of many moments – some big, some small, some good, some bad. These events can become opportunities for significant growth and development in our walk with Christ. The question is whether we will recognize these events as opportunities for growth or just let them pass by. When these events happen, we have an opportunity to listen for the leading of God, and then to respond in the way we believe the Spirit is leading.

The Circle is a tool to help remind and guide us in the process The key thing is to look for a “Kairos moment”: a significant event (positive or negative, never neutral, that leaves an impact on you, signalling an opportunity to grow spiritually and emotionally) and then (prayerfully) enter into the circle of learning.

In other words in a Kairos moment, we are being called up to take a step for the Kingdom: What is God saying to me? (repent, change mind, change thinking) -- What am I going to do about it? (faith, acting in faith, stepping out in faith).

Click on the picture to watch a short summary ...

Come and find out more, this next Sunday.
Haven — 4.30pm Sunday 24th November at the Mernda Uniting Church 

97 Schotters Rd, Mernda VIC.

Snapshot #3 Outside The Square

The ‘Rebels’ Group. Many years ago now, my family attended what was then one ofthe larger congregational churches in Australia. This was (and still is) an excellent church, with a wonderful menu of effective ministry programmes and all manner of groups and people networks ranging from playgroups to craft groups, from financial advice to low cost accommodation. Back then, there was a large staff team and on weekends, we scheduled five or six different worship services, a massive Sunday school, and youth programmes. To serve there was exhilarating, worthwhile, but exhausting.

This was a fascinating time as that congregation had slowed growing numerically and had been on a plateau for at least five years. I saw how challenging it is for a large and successful church to appraise and change its paradigm. I also learnt, back then, how church growth and mission were closely related to strategic planning and corporate management. Back then, we often assumed the presuppositions, methodology and practises of the large, successful (mostly Northern American) regional churches.

Whilst we were great at asking demographic, marketing and organising questions,  we struggled to do the deeper work of thinking through together what our theological 'lenses' should be. We engaged in little contextual theology or in challenging unbiblical cultural traits. Instead, we tended to imitate the approach of other larger churches if they increased numbers. I recall planning meetings where issues were raised such as whether we ought to remain a geographically “local” church or evolve into a “regional” church; whether demographic segmentation was appropriate or not; whether we ought to implement a central, top-down management structure or rather decentralise through becoming a more inclusive home group network; whether we ought to organise functionally or organically; or whether the cultural assumptions under-girding suburban Australia ought to be imitated or challenged. 

The telling thing was not what was decided, but that nothing was decided on most of these questions. These issues were benignly seen as irrelevant to the process of articulating a strong mission statement, core functions, long term goals, growth and so on. Provided we were reaching out and moving off the plateau, bringing people in, then that was more the priority.  

After five years, I had moved into different vocational work, but we remained at the edge of this very large congregation. In the midst of this massive professional effort, we came to miss that sense of localised, permanent, intimate, and messy community. 

Snapshot #2 Outside The Square

The East German Fellowship

In the 1970s, when I was in high school, I vividly recall travelling to East Germany (when it was behind the Iron Curtain), with my family and visiting a small evangelical church in the south. A group of twenty or so adults and children gathered in the living room of an older, meagre home. Though my German was poor, it was good enough to follow the service, which was more a gathering of extended family than a public event. The singing was bright and heartfelt; there were tears of devotion in the eyes of some, singing about their Lord. 

The testimonies came thick and fast, and passionate prayers of gratitude for the Lord’s provision were offered. The sermon was grounded in the testimonies, connecting the passage to the congregation’s experiences. The pastor was more like a conductor who unpacked the stories and grounded them in the Scriptures than the 'professional' preacher. “This scripture is just for us for this week!” The prayers were not about security or protection but for courage to live authentically in the face of a truly hostile regime and the powers that supported it. Their clothes were not stylish, the communal meal was plain, but the stories of courage and grace in the midst of difficulty were inspiring. I learnt much later that the high school children present had been denied tertiary enrolment on graduation because of their disavowal of the communist youth league and their profession of faith.

Here was a community of faith whose faithful living marked it out as a joyful and appreciated witness to its locale, and also marked it for vindictive opposition from the State. It thrived in weakness in a way that I have not seen readily in our 'Christian' west. 

A number of years later, after the fall of the Berlin wall, we heard from the pastor’s wife who told us how they had so hoped that the collapse of communism would free the churches there to more powerfully witness. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Everywhere the churches were emptying as people pursued the lure of western materialism. Western Christians brought  aspirational lifestyles and conformity to consumeristic values. The young people were no longer discipled to carry their cross. Spiritual entertainment was, she felt, becoming endemic.

As I reflect on this story, I am reminded of a comment by Os Guinness, at a conference some time ago, to the effect that, wherever Western modernity takes hold, it undermines the integrity of the local church. How ironic it is that the non-western church, weak and marginalised, with few of the accoutrements of the western churches, knows little of the lassitude which besets us.

Next time: The rebel’s group that grew by accident!

Snapshot #1 Outside The Square

What are the church experiences that stirred your heart to dream “outside the square?” Over the next while I want to share three vignettes or snapshots from my experience. (I have changed the names and edited personal details to preserve the privacy of the people mentioned in all these stories). These have been life-giving to my understanding of what thriving Kingdom community might mean in our western context. What are your stories of church thriving “outside the square?”

Here’s my first snapshot:

Outside the Square - Story one: The Neighbourhood Community

Some years ago, I was invited to speak at a church camp. I can remember standing in the campsite kitchen with John and Jane, the organisers, looking through the hatch at the hundred or so people mingling, laughing, and preparing for their weekend together. “Now, you understand,” said John, “that there are three churches represented here. We started the first church in our home and now there are two more congregations.”

“Where have all the other people come from?” I asked. “Are they from other churches in the area?”

“No,” Jane replied, “We and two other couples are the only traditional Christians, and after the trauma of seeing our former church implode and close, we started the first group together. It was a difficult time, and we even wondered if doing church was worth it at all. But all the rest here are neighbours or work friends who have come – or are coming to faith. Most have never been in a traditional church before. As a matter of fact we discourage conventional church goers from leaving their home congregation to join us.”

“That’s right,” added John, “We have found that people who have grown up in a denominational corporate church setting can’t help but bring that DNA with them. They need buildings, committees, attractive needs-based programs, age segregated meetings, and so on. And if that’s what they want, that’s fine, but it douses the flame we believe God is fanning here.”

They went on to explain how they and their friends had come to the conclusion that local church was about the people of God living in authentic relationship in their local neighbourhood community. They were sent to be “on mission”, and the way in which they lived and talked their faith was the proclamation of the gospel. They had eventually arrived at a set of spiritual disciplines (or habits) which they practised in accountability to each other. Some were spiritual disciplines, some had to do with maintaining a healthy structure. Though quite different to the more corporate models of church, there was a well thought out and strong set of processes and structures supporting the relationships. They also related to a larger, national house-church network for support and training. Their weekly gathering centred on the Lord’s Table and application of the Scriptures – which flowed from rigorous discussion and reflection of their weekly experiences.

“No we don’t have any pre-set evangelistic programmes,” John replied to my question, “We’re all involved with an assortment of local projects, sports clubs, schools, community groups – depending on our interests – and our friendships and actions flow from a response to what we sense God wants us to say and do. But no, we don’t have the time to be running extra official church events. We’re having too much fun out there with people!”

As I got to know the larger group, it was inspiring to hear the stories: new neighbours welcomed in and embraced, fellow parents from the local school, co-employees, volunteers and clients of a local citizens advice centre, extended family members, children and friends of children. To summarise what many of these newer members expressed: “It started because my neighbour genuinely cared for me. I didn’t know anything about religion, and was actually suspicious about what her motive was. But she valued me regardless. Eventually when I got to know some of the others they included me – foul language and all – even though they knew I didn’t believe like they did .... I appreciate now that religion is not about going to a service but living differently – being set free!”

For me this was one of the first images of what “missional church” could be. God’s people were intentionally living and serving in their local community, interpreting and acting contextually, hearing the narratives of their neighbourhood, and responding appropriately, years before the missional terminology entered the mainstream.

Next time: An underground house church.