A Departure from the Norm

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Portland, OR right now preparing for the last of my doctoral seminars at Western Seminary. Well, I guess it's obvious that I'm not "preparing" at this moment. In fact, I've spent the last few hours since my flight arrived here just observing the people up close. I took the Max train and the public bus to get to the Worldview Center, the place that's been my home away from home for the last year. When I hopped on the train at the airport most of the people around me looked "normal" enough. The further I got into town however there was a distinct change in appearance of the average person I found myself around. Out here, the norm is to have tattoos and piercings. I was at a bus stop a while ago musing to myself about how all these young independent types would regret their extreme body art when they got old and grey - and then I turned and sure enough, there was an elderly woman standing there with a tribal tatt on her arm!

Back in Atlanta I am sometimes viewed as being the edgy one. I have a small tattoo, albeit tame in nature - an IXTHUS (the Greek lettering within the Christian fish sign). Ironically, out here I feel like a J.Crew model walking around in a skate park - totally out of place.

Just a few minutes ago an older man with wiry hair and a bushy beard rose from his chair beside me and glanced over asking, "What disseration are you working on?" Incredibly perceptive I thought. And then I thought, "How am I gonna explain 'missiology' to this guy?" Just a minute after I stumbled into the conversation I was listening to his thoughts on Bush - the evangelical Pope in his mind, and how organized religion is a conspiracy of governments and big business to suppress the common "average" guy like him. Well, this guy was anything but common or average in my book. If anything, he was thought-provoking. As he walked out I muttered, "Hope you find what you're looking for." trying to salvage the otherwise awkward conversation. He just turned and smiled responding, "I'm not looking for anything, man." My first thought was, "Then you've found it because you're living out of a bag in dirty clothes and trying to talk philosophy with strangers in coffee shops." But then I really started thinking about my call as a missionary church planter.

I mean, I've been all over the world and shared the gospel with people of different cultures, but I'm sitting here on the left coast of my own country and am thinking "How in the world could I ever engage this culture, much less plant a church here?" This place is definitely a departure from the norm for me. The homeless flock here because the city supports it with shelters and food kitchens all over. I'm not saying that's a bad thing - I believe that social ministry is a necessity.

My experiences this evening leave me with more questions than answers. I know and believe that the gospel is trans-cultural (applies equally anywhere). But the question is whether or not the Christianity that I have based my life upon is a Southern variation of the original where belief in God and the bible are a given and hypocrisy is winked at even in the church. Out here, evangelical is a curse word. But is that word worth fighting for. I live and breathe the inerrancy and infallibility of the Scripture, but there's so much baggage added to the term beyond that. And if I were to try to plant a church out here what would it look like? I mean unless I reached some of these folks - tattoos, piercings and apolitical opinions and all - then would it really be a success? I have no plans to plant a church out here if anyone is wondering. But it's a valid thought. A relevant one for my brothers ministering back in the Atlanta area too.

The look of Atlanta is changing. Recent newspaper clippings sit in my office documenting the increasingly diversity of my own home county. Twenty years ago the county was over 90% white. Now that number is down around 60% with African-Americans and Hispanics each hovering around 17% and Asians making up the rest. And yet you look at most churches in Atlanta and it doesn't reflect that diversity at all.

Will the church remain relevant as the culture changes? A better question is "Will I remain relevant in my own hometown?" If so, I'm going to have to spend a lot more time thinking about how to engage in conversations with those who have taken a departure from what I call "the norm".