Church for Every Context: An introduction to Theology and Practice

By Michael Moynagh

The first comprehensive textbook on the theology and methodology of Fresh Expressions, one of the most important developments within the contemporary church.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SCM Press
• Release date: Apr 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9780334048077

Michael Moynagh

Dr Michael Moynagh is an Anglican priest, and coordinator of The Tomorrow Project, which advises governments and businesses on future trends. He is a member of the national Fresh Expressions Team and author of several books including Changing World, Changing Church.

Book preview

Introduction

New expressions of the church are springing up in many parts of the global North. Going under a variety of names – church plants, emergent church, fresh expressions of church, missional communities and many more – they are making a significant mark on the ecclesial landscape. Though notoriously difficult to count, they have attracted a growing literature, generated extensive debate and changed denominational strategies. It is widely recognized that something significant is afoot. Church for Every Context offers a theological rationale of what is becoming a global trend. It proposes some methodologies for starting these new types of churches and growing them to maturity.

A report for the Church of Scotland declared that the emergence of these churches ‘has every appearance of being one of the most significant missional movements in the recent history of Christianity in these islands’ (Drane and Drane, 2010, p. 3). Alongside an expanding flow of nonacademic books, the academic literature is taking steadily more notice of the phenomenon. Academics have begun both to critique it, such as – in the UK – Hull (2006), Milbank (2008), Davison and Milbank (2010) and Percy (2010), and to provide more sympathetic treatments, such as – again using UK examples – Ward (2002), Williams (for example 2006), Dunn (2008) and Drane (2010). Fresh expressions of church have become a topic of study in many of Britain’s theological colleges and courses (Croft, 2008a, p. 47), and the subject of a growing number of MA and PhD dissertations.¹

We begin with an introduction to these new types of church – what I shall call ‘new contextual churches’. It describes four ecclesial currents that are giving rise to these churches. It offers a definition of new contextual church, provides some examples and supplies a rationale for the definition. It then summarizes the concerns these churches are raising, and against this background outlines the purpose and shape of the book.

Four tributaries

‘New contextual church’ is used here as an umbrella term to describe the birth and growth of Christian communities that serve people mainly outside the church, belong to their culture, make discipleship a priority and form a new church among the people they serve.² They are a response to changes in society and to the new missional context that the church faces in the global North. In contrast to when it dominated society (what is known as ‘Christendom’), in most parts of the economically advanced world the church now finds itself in post-Christendom, among populations who increasingly have little or no Christian background. Four overlapping tributaries, representing different responses to this new situation, provide the streams from which new contextual churches are emerging.

Church planting

The first is church planting, which has a long history in the UK. It stretches from churches built in new urban areas during the industrial revolution, to the planting of daughter churches, to the beginnings of a new phase of church planting in the 1970s. During that decade, Patrick Blair started to develop his seven satellite congregations in Chester-le-Street, and Roger Forster began multiplying churches across south London in what became the Ichthus movement.

The tributary started to flow more rapidly in the early 1990s largely as a result of church growth missiology. The latter included an emphasis on evangelism and encouraged a new wave of church planting, inspired by the international DAWN (Disciple a Whole Nation) strategy. The strategy represented a shift from ‘come’ to ‘go’ evangelism. Rather than invite people outside church to existing congregations, new gatherings were planted in the hope of attracting those who did not attend.

However, many of these church plants suffered from having a dominant gene³ that saw church primarily in terms of Sunday worship, albeit done differently. They started down the contextual road, but did not travel far enough to reach people who were outside the church. Largely for this reason, a number of these plants were short-lived, while others had little effect on the surrounding community. ‘Many new churches failed to thrive. Some closed after years of struggle. Many more are small, weak and making little impact’ (Lings and Murray, 2003, p. 4).

A deep desire to connect church with people outside, missional reflection on postmodern culture and in some cases ‘post-evangelical’ angst encouraged more contextual and diverse forms of church planting in the late 1990s, often involving small groups below the radar of the wider church. The momentum has built up since. In addition, churches serving ethnic minority communities have proliferated, but have generally not expanded to include other cultures.

The emerging church conversation

Originating in the United States, this second tributary consists of a smorgasbord of groups and individuals who want to find what they consider to be more authentic ways to live the Christian faith. Found mainly among the Gen X and Gen Y generations, participants in the emerging church conversation seek to connect with popular culture, postmodern practice and philosophy, and reflect a widespread disenchantment with evangelicalism (Cox, 2009, p. 132; Jones, 2008, p. 68). The conversation, in which ‘Emergent’ is a prominent sub-group, comprises ‘a network of networks’ (Drane, 2008, p. 90) and has an extensive presence online and in print.

Some of those who would identify with the conversation have started new ‘emerging churches’. Based on an extensive study between 2000 and 2005, Eddie Gibbs and Ryan Bolger (2006, pp. 44–5) found that three core practices were common to all these churches – identifying with the life of Jesus, transforming secular space (rather than separating the sacred and secular) and living as community (as a way of pursuing the kingdom within the church and beyond). These central practices combined to create six further practices – welcoming the stranger, serving with generosity, participating as producers, creating as created beings, leading as a body and taking part in spiritual activities.

Many emerging churches have developed alternative forms of worship to re-engage Christians who find existing church culturally alien and unable to speak to them, and are about to leave the church or have recently done so. Others, however, have connected with people who are further from church, and these have tended to put less emphasis on worship as a way to serve people. Especially in the US, emerging churches are generally outside the denominations, are often highly critical of them and in many cases would be suspicious of ‘fresh expressions of church’, which are emerging in the denominations.

Language within the movement has evolved. In 2011, two observers could write that:

emergence was a word used to communicate the movement as a whole . . . Emergent currently tends to reflect churches inclusive in character of all sorts of conditions of people; emerging is more representative of churches that are evangelical and conservative in nature (Gray-Reeves and Perham, 2011, p. 3).

Doug Gay has asked whether we may be near the end of ‘emerging’ as a useful term for the church (Gay, 2011, p. xi).

Fresh expressions of church

The third tributary consists of fresh expressions of church. The term was first used in print in the Church of England’s 2004 report, Mission-shaped Church, which has been highly influential. The term deliberately echoes the Preface to the Declaration of Assent, which Church of England ministers make at their licensing and which states:

The Church of England . . . professes the faith uniquely revealed in the Holy Scriptures and set forth in the catholic creeds, which faith the Church is called upon to proclaim afresh in each generation.

The term ‘fresh expressions’, the report proposed, ‘suggests something new or enlivened is happening, but also suggests connection to history and the developing story of God’s work in the Church’ (Mission-shaped Church, 2004, p. 34).

Since the report’s publication, all manner of initiatives have described themselves as ‘fresh expressions’, including the redesign of a church notice board! So to draw some lines round the phrase, in 2006 the Fresh Expressions team – formed by the Church of England’s archbishops and the Methodist Church to encourage and support the development of fresh expressions of church in the UK – offered the following definition:

A fresh expression is a form of church for our changing culture established primarily for the benefit of people who are not yet members of any church.

It will come into being through principles of listening, service, incarnational

mission and making disciples. It will have the potential to become a mature expression of church shaped by the gospel and the enduring marks of the church and for its cultural context (Croft, 2008c, p. 10).

Since the report, fresh expressions of church have multiplied across a growing number of denominations, including the Church of Scotland, the Congregational Federation and the United Reformed Church, and overseas. New forms of church – many not calling themselves ‘fresh expressions’ – are emerging in Australia, New Zealand, North America, other parts of Europe and in some places in the global South.

Communities in mission

‘Communities in mission’ is my term for groups that seek to combine a rich life in community with mission and do not identify strongly with the other tributaries. They include simple church, which values small, multiplying, home-based churches, minimal structures and relational rather than institutional ties, and organic church, which is very similar but whose leaders put more weight on belonging to a larger movement. Both are less interested in radical theology than in being radical church.

Communities in mission also include mid-sized communities that are being formed in a number of well-established churches. They are clusters of Christians, of varying sizes, which gain purpose from serving a specific group of people outside the church. Each community meets in varying ways and with varying regularity, but does so as a ‘congregation’. For example, a small group may gather three times a month and then join with the wider local church on perhaps one Sunday of the month. Larger clusters have small cells that meet regularly for prayer, study and fellowship (Hopkins and Breen, 2007, pp. 29–41).

New monasticism

Within each of these four tributaries are groups that tap into new monasticism, a subterranean source of spiritual nourishment with origins in the monastic tradition and the secular Celtic revival. Ian Mobsby has identified three groups of new monastics – those inspired by monks and nuns who gather for prayer in disused pubs, youth clubs, in places of natural beauty and elsewhere; those who identify with the friar tradition and move into an area either as single households of pioneers or as intentional communities; and a growing number of ‘friar monks’ who are inspired by both monk and friar traditions (Mobsby 2010, pp. 13–15).

Water flows freely between these four tributaries. A good number of new churches would see themselves as both a church plant and a fresh expression, for example, or as belonging to several tributaries. The result of this energy and innovation has been a bewildering eruption of different types of Christian community and different ideas about what it means to be church in today’s world.

Definition

These developments as a whole defy easy definition, and yet some clarity of terms is necessary. I propose to work with a definition based on a summary version of the one offered by the Fresh Expressions team.⁴ New contextual churches are new Christian communities that are

missional – in the sense that, through the Spirit, they are birthed by Christians mainly among people who do not normally attend church;

contextual – they seek to fit the culture of the people they serve;

formational – they aim to form disciples;

ecclesial – they intend to become church for the people they reach in their contexts.

Some examples

New contextual churches can be classified in a variety of ways. One is to describe them in relation to the local church. On this basis, some are closely linked to an existing church. They emerge from within a ‘fringe’ group – a mission venture or a community project, for instance – so that these initiatives are no longer stepping stones to Sunday church but become ‘church’ in their own right.

For example, the leaders of a church-run luncheon club for older people invited members to stay behind after the meal for quarter of an hour, at the start of which a candle was lit on each table. There followed some Christian music, a reading from Scripture, a period of silence and some prayers. This became the start of a journey to faith for those involved, and the beginning of a church alongside and in the context of the luncheon club.

Alternatively, a local church may bring a Christian community to birth as part of a new initiative. A Sunday ‘Drop In’ opened in inner-city Bristol in 2010 to serve a marginalized section of society. There is a cup of tea, some food, pool and table tennis, newspapers and a prayer board. Toward the end of the session, someone invites requests for prayer and a short, informal prayer time follows. Numbers vary from 15 to 25 each week. Some have asked to be baptized. There is cross-fertilization with the regular Sunday congregation. Some of the latter help run Drop In, while a few from Drop In attend church groups or occasional services.

The leaders see Drop In as

an experiment in a new way of being church, at a time when regular church has lost its draw. We do not know where it is leading, or whether it will last . . . We think that we have created something – small and fragile, certainly – where healing and transformation can take place, and a new kind of community can grow.⁵

New contextual churches have emerged within networks that jump localchurch boundaries – in a Methodist circuit, an Anglican deanery or among local churches from different denominations acting together. A number of youth congregations have been started through this type of collaboration, such as Eden, a monthly youth gathering in Sussex that breaks into separate youth groups on the other Sundays (Lings, 2007). The congregation is connected to a group of churches in an area rather than to one local church.

Potentially important is a further category. These are gatherings beyond the reach of the local church. They are started by individuals in the context of their daily lives – in a school, among friends or perhaps at work. The initiative comes not from an existing church or group of churches, but from an individual or group who may or may not be recognized by the wider body. A group of women started a monthly event in a leisure centre, for example. Visiting speakers talked about how God had helped them to lead ‘fit lives’, such as when bringing up a child with handicaps or when facing a crisis. The leaders recognized that when individuals began to enquire about Jesus, this would have the potential to become a church.

Missional, contextual, formational and ecclesial

The definition used here would include only a portion of the many groups and communities in the four tributaries just described. The definition is not intended to put question marks round what is left out, but to provide some discipline and coherence to the language I am using.

The emphasis on mission reflects the prevailing theological understanding that in mission the church joins God’s mission to the world.

‘Church and mission’ was once the theological frame used by the ecumenical community in an attempt to address this dynamic. It was discovered, however, that the ‘and’ already bifurcated that which was not to be divided. That is the rationale for using the adjective today, missional. (Bliese 2006, p. 239)

The definition slightly tightens the Fresh Expressions version – from communities that are ‘primarily for the benefit of people who are not yet members of any church’ to ones that ‘are birthed . . . mainly among people who do not normally attend church’. This is intended to give greater precision. It also raises the bar. Often congregations find it harder to work directly with people outside the church than to take action from a distance to support them, such as giving to charity. Yet pushing up the bar is necessary if we are to do full justice to the idea that church is missionary at its heart, a theme that is developed in Chapter 6.

The stress on contextualization (often referred to as inculturation) reflects a consensus that has emerged since Vatican II among theologians across the spectrum from Roman Catholic to evangelical. These theologians agree on the importance of contextualizing theology (and by implication the church), although their understanding of what is involved frequently differs. Stephen Bevans and Roger Schroeder (2004) have shown how historically the church’s mission has been carried out through an ongoing interaction between theological constants (basic questions that the church has always wrestled with) and a variety of changing contexts (the historical circumstances in which the basic questions are faced). A church falls down in its missional task if its witness fails to connect with its immediate setting.

Forming disciples is vital if new churches are to avoid being ‘froth expressions’ – consumerist expressions of church that fail to encourage an obligation to local people and a commitment to the whole church. ‘The ultimate test of any expression of church, whether a fresh expression or a more traditional one – is what quality of disciples are made there?’ (Cray, 2010c, p. 3).

The intention to become church marks out new contextual churches from mission initiatives or projects. The aim is not for the initiative to be a stepping stone to existing church but to encourage church to emerge within it. So the luncheon club is no longer seen as a bridge to Sunday church, but as an opportunity for the Spirit to bring church to birth within or alongside the weekly lunch. A youth initiative is not viewed as a youth club, whose members also attend church on Sunday, but as a youth congregation – as church for young people.

Frost and Hirsch have distinguished between ‘attractional’ churches that relate to the world on a ‘you come to us’ basis, and ‘incarnational’ churches that go into the surrounding context and grow new churches within it (Frost and Hirsch, 2003, pp. 41–51). The distinction is a bit sharp because there is a third – ‘engaged’ – category, which is possibly the most common type of church. ‘Engaged’ churches go into their communities in loving service, often hoping that the people they serve will be drawn into the church on Sunday (Hopkins and Breen, 2007, pp. 117–21). A project among homeless people might be set up on this basis. Many participants of course never make the journey because the gap between their everyday lives and the church is too great. Contextual churches recognize this and seek to be church in the settings of ordinary life.

‘New contextual churches’ describes communities within the four tributaries that meet these missional, contextual, formational and ecclesial criteria. They are types of church that should be encouraged for good theological reasons. However, when referring to specific initiatives, the label should be used with care. It may not be clear whether the initiative falls within the definition.

Three approaches to mission by the local church

In particular, when a community becomes church varies according to point of view. A team of Christians serving a group of people may see itself as church from the very beginning. But the people the team serves may not consider themselves to be church, and it may be a while before they view themselves in these terms. The denomination or wider institutional body will encourage the initiative as it develops, but not recognize it as a church till it appears sustainable. This of course raises questions, addressed in later chapters, about what is understood by ‘maturity’ and ‘sustainability’.

Scope of the book

The purpose of Church for Every Context is to introduce the theology and practice of new contextual churches, drawing on recent British experience. Various rationales for these types of church can be found, for example in Frost and Hirsch (2003), Mission-shaped Church (2004) and in the writings of Stuart Murray (for example 2004a and 2004b). But there have also been fierce criticisms, mainly by the writers referred to at the beginning of the chapter. These criticisms reveal a need to articulate a fuller theological justification – not least, of the understanding that these initiatives are church.

Though further theological work is needed, one aim of the book is to provide this defence. The book will address a number of concerns, which will be described more fully, including:

Do these new communities express a full view of the kingdom?

Can they be regarded as churches?

Do they reflect a proper understanding of the missio Dei?

In seeking to be contextual, are they also staying faithful to the gospel?

Can their focus on specific cultural groups be justified?

What is their relationship to the Christian tradition?

Are these contextual churches growing disciples with a sense of obligation to the wider church and to others in society, or are they just a form of spiritual consumerism?

Will they prove sustainable?

What should be their relationship to the denominations?

A second aim is to contribute to reflection on the practice of contextual churches. The church planting literature, most of which comes from North America, contains a great deal of wisdom. Yet much of it arises from the experience of church planting among existing, but disillusioned churchgoers or among recent church-leavers. In many parts of the global North, such people are a rapidly shrinking proportion of the population. The Church faces a new mission context, in which steadily more people have little or no Christian background.

A number of observers, such as Brian McLaren (2009, p. 17), have claimed that by supporting fresh expressions of church, Britain’s denominations are ahead of the rest of the global North in addressing this situation. To many of us in the UK, however, it looks as if we have much to learn from other countries. As part of this mutual learning, there may be lessons from British experience that are worth not only debating in the UK but sharing more widely.

An outline of the book

Church for Every Context argues that as part of recent theology’s turn to the church, we should affirm the God-given role of the church as a visible community in all the contexts of life, that methodologies for practising this are beginning to emerge and that the denominations should make new contextual church a priority. The book is in four parts. The first puts new contextual churches into a historical and contemporary context. It shows how the church reproduced in the New Testament, how it has regularly done so since, how in Britain (as in other countries) it is learning to reproduce in fresh ways today and why these new forms of reproduction are sociologically significant.

Against this background, Part 2 offers some theological foundations for contextual church. Chapter 5 asks whether these communities can be properly called church: what is the essential nature of the church and how might we understand maturity in relation to new contextual churches? Chapter 6 maintains that mission should be a first step for the church. Chapter 7 argues that this mission should take communal form in the different places where people now lead their lives. Chapter 8 contends that these communal forms of mission should be thoroughly contextual, while remaining true to Jesus. Chapter 9 argues that being contextual will mean focusing on specific cultures. It suggests that this is consistent with the New Testament vision of a diverse but united church. Chapter 10 claims that these contextual churches are faithful to the Christian tradition.

Part 3 builds on the theology of the earlier chapters. It argues that founding new churches should be viewed as an essential Christian practice, which is beginning to be expressed in new ways. As the beginning of a contemporary description of this practice, Chapter 11 describes what it means for mission to take communal form in the many settings of society. As a crucial step toward this communal expression of mission, Chapter 12 discusses the process of gathering a mission community (the founding team of the new church). Chapters 13 and 14 describe how this mission community can begin to engage in contextual mission – by researching opportunities to serve the context and engaging with potential partners. Chapters 15 and 16 describe two processes – action-based learning and what I have called team awareness – that support the gathering, researching and engaging activities.

Part 4 is about laying down pathways to maturity. It describes the outlines of four such pathways – making disciples, worship, community and sustainability. It points to some of the directions of travel, recognizing that we still have much to learn about the stepping stones within each pathway.

The final chapter argues that contextual churches should grow to maturity within the setting of a mixed-economy church, in which new forms of church and inherited church (churches with inherited structures and patterns of life) exist alongside each other in relationships of mutual support. The book can be read as an extended argument for the mixed economy. New contextual churches are theologically well founded. We are learning how to practise them. This learning should continue within a mixed-economy setting.

In organizing the chapters, I have tried to respond to pleas that training for church founders integrate theory and practice (Croft, 2008a, p. 49). Thus a number of chapters are designed to build bridges between the practice of contextual church and specific academic disciplines. The disciplines include Old Testament (Chapter 19), New Testament (Chapter 1), systematic theology (especially Chapters 5, 6 and 21), church history (Chapters 2 and 10), worship (Chapter 18) and, of course, themes within mission studies such as sociology (Chapter 4), contextualization (Chapters 5 and 6) and evangelism (Chapters 12 and 18).

Resources

Church for Every Context draws on a variety of material. It is informed by over 150 case studies compiled by the UK national team, Fresh Expressions⁶, by the Sheffield Centre’s important Encounters on the Edge series of studies, and by other examples of contextual church with which I am familiar.

It draws on an extensive body of literature arising from the four tributaries of church planting, emerging church, fresh expressions of church and communities in mission. Within this are case studies and case study-based reflections such as Glasson (2006), Male (2008), Gibbs and Bolger (2006) and Gray-Reeves and Perham (2011); contributions to the debate about the validity of these new forms of church, such as some of the essays in Croft (2008b) and Nelstrop and Percy (2008); introductions to specific types of church, such as organic church (Cole, 2005) and mid-sized communities (Breen and Absalom, 2010); studies that address particular themes or issues, such as liquid church (Ward 2002) and new monasticism (Cray, Mobsby and Kennedy, 2010).

Church for Every Context also dialogues with wider streams of theological literature, not least on the nature of the church, the mission of God, contextualization, the church as the carrier of the Christian story, and Old and New Testament studies. In addition, the book plunders insights from commercial and social entrepreneurship to throw light on how contextual churches start and grow, and draws on complexity theory, especially complex responsive process theory, which emphasizes the role of conversations in organizational life.

I write as a Church of England minister who is a member of the UK’s national Fresh Expressions team, which since 2005 has encouraged new forms of church for a fast-changing world.⁷ This inevitably means that my perspective has something of an institutional feel. However, the church is not primarily an institution, but a variety of interlocking relationships. History is full of ecclesial institutions emerging and dying. There is nothing sacrosanct about today’s denominations. So although I write from within one particular institution, which I believe still has something to offer the world, I have sympathy for critical voices outside the denominations. My passion is the mission of the church.

Like many in the emerging church conversation, I have a low-church evangelical background, but in the early 1990s my journey took me to a more sacramental church, where we pioneered – in today’s language – several fresh expressions of church. Though my voyage resonates with many in the conversation, I have not travelled to the radical shores a number have reached. Some in the conversation would think me rather tame, whereas several of my evangelical friends would wonder if I was conservative enough.

I have used the phrase ‘new contextual church’ to span churches founded by people who would describe themselves as conservative evangelicals, Anglo-Catholics, radical emergents, new monastics or some other label, while being willing to stand under this umbrella term. The book is an apologetic for these new types of church within the mixed economy.

Further reading

Gay, Doug, Remixing the Church: The Five Moves of Emerging Ecclesiology, London: SCM, 2011.

Lings, George and Stuart Murray, Church Planting: Past, Present and Future, Cambridge: Grove Books, 2003.

Mission-shaped Church, London: Church Publishing House, 2004.

Questions for discussion

Of the four tributaries described in the chapter, which would you most identify with and why?

What are the advantages and disadvantages of the definition of new contextual church offered here?

What examples of new contextual church have you experienced or are aware of? In what ways do they fit the chapter’s definition?

1 The Church Army’s Sheffield Centre has a hard copy and an electronic database of over 40 of these. See www.churcharmy.org.uk/ms/sc/fxcp/sfc_onlinelibrary.aspx .

2 This is based on the summary of the definition of fresh expression used by the Fresh Expressions team. See www.freshexpressions.org.uk/about/whatis .

3 Kilpin and Murray (2007 , p. 7) describe these plants as clones, but this is unhelpful. A clone would be genetically identical to the parent church, whereas these church plants were not clones in the literal sense of having all their genes in common. They innovated in a number of ways, such as recognizing the diversity of their mission contexts, being lay led with a mission team rather than a single leader, carrying out serious mission audit and in some cases pioneering different forms of worship. I am grateful to Bob and Mary Hopkins for pointing this out.

4 The definition is a modified version of the one used by Fresh Expressions. See www.sharetheguide.org/section1/1 .

5 Church Times , 16 December 2011.

6 www.freshexpressions.org.uk/stories.

7 www.freshexpressions.org.uk/about.

Part 1

Past and Present

1

Saint Paul’s New Contextual Churches

Evangelical critics of the emerging church conversation, such as D. A. Carson (2005), frequently complain that participants are not biblical enough; in their eagerness to connect with contemporary culture, contributors tend to lose their scriptural moorings. Critics from the more Catholic end of the spectrum, such as Andrew Davison and Alison Milbank (2010), accuse fresh expressions of church (and no doubt would include the emerging church conversation) of paying insufficient attention to the church’s tradition.

To help ensure that Church for Every Context is rooted in Scripture and has a strong eye to the tradition, Part 1 begins with a discussion of Saint Paul’s approach to church planting. Chapter 2 provides some historical precedents for contextual church. Chapter 3 recounts Britain’s recent experience of fresh expressions of church, while Chapter 4 puts these developments into a sociological perspective. The purpose of these chapters is to place new contextual churches in their historical and contemporary setting, and to show that church reproduction is intrinsic to the church’s missional life.

Starting with Saint Paul is no accident. He is widely regarded as one of history’s most fruitful church pioneers. So it is natural to ask what his experience can teach us. Eckhard Schnabel (2008) has recently provided a comprehensive description of Paul’s approach to mission, while Loveday Alexander (2008), James Dunn (2008), Richard Bauckham (2011) and John Drane (2011) have used New Testament material to reflect on fresh expressions of church and church pioneering.

In following them to learn from the New Testament, we must tread with care. Not all scholars accept the historical accuracy of Acts for example, although plausible reasons exist for assuming that Luke provides a faithful account (Hengel, 1979; Hemer, 1989). We must allow for differences between the New Testament and contemporary worlds, and we must avoid jumping from the New Testament to now as if the church has done no reflection in between.

Discerning in the light of the whole biblical story which actions within the narrative might serve as examples for today is a delicate task. We must also keep in mind that Paul was not the only apostle to found new churches – we just know more about him. Finally, it would be a mistake to plunge straight into Saint Paul’s missionary journeys. If we wind back a little, we shall find lessons from an earlier period.

So, we shall look at the shift in emphasis from a ‘come’ to a ‘go’ approach to mission, explore lessons for the ‘mixed economy’ (old and new churches living alongside each other in a denomination), discuss Paul’s pioneering teams, speculate a little on some of the processes involved in bringing Paul’s churches to birth, consider how far Paul’s new congregations were culture specific and examine his transition of leadership.

From mission as ‘come’ to mission as ‘go’

It is often said that there is a shift from the Old Testament’s centripetal – ‘you come to us’ – approach to mission to the New Testament’s centrifugal one: ‘we’ll go to you’. Ancient Israel saw its missional task as being to attract the nations, whereas the first Christians went in mission to the nations.

Centripetal mission in Israel

This distinction has been challenged by Walter Kaiser, who has argued that ancient Israel had a duty to go out in centrifugal witness.

There could be no mistaking where Paul got his marching orders: they came from the Old Testament. The case for evangelizing the Gentiles had not been a recently devised switch in the plan of God, but had always been the long-term commitment of the Living God who is a missionary God. (Kaiser, 2000, p. 82)

If Jewish proselytizers among the Gentiles existed in the first century ce, as scholars used to suggest (De Ridder, 1975, pp. 58–127), this would lend support to Kaiser. It would suggest that there were at least some Jews who recognized a call to mission beyond Israel’s borders. Yet Martin Goodman and others have shown that Judaism did not contain a proselytizing tendency before Christian mission began. The later emergence in Judaism of Christian-type proselytizing owed less to impulses within Judaism than to what the Christians were doing (Goodman, 1994, pp. 60–91; Riesner, 2000, pp. 211–50; Bird, 2010, p. 11).¹

Christopher Wright points out that the Old Testament contains no explicit command that Israelites should go to the nations in mission. If this had been the expectation, it is surprising that the prophets did not condemn Israel for its failure to do so. The Old Testament emphasis is on God summoning the nations to himself ‘in the great pilgrimage to Zion’ at the end times (Wright, 2006, pp. 502–3). Zechariah 8.20–3, for instance, pictures people ‘from all languages’ streaming to Jerusalem. According to Isaiah 61.5–6, when Israel is what it is meant to be Gentiles will join the people of God.

Only in Isaiah 66 is there explicit word of God sending messengers to the nations, and that is as a future expectation contingent on the ingathering of Israel first. (Wright, 2006, p. 503)

Within this broad sweep are hints of a more centrifugal approach. Jonah leaps to mind of course. Nahum and Amos 1 and 2.1–5 are addressed to the nations, suggesting that Israel should be outward looking. But they are a sub-plot. From a New Testament perspective, they point to what would be fulfilled later in Christian mission.

The emergence of centrifugal mission

The very first Christians in Jerusalem had been instructed by Jesus, assuming the words were from his lips, to be his witnesses ‘to the ends of the earth’ (Acts 1.8; cf Matt. 28.18–20). Understanding that the end times had arrived, it would have been natural for them to interpret Jesus’ command as a fulfilment of Isaiah 66.18–21: as the nations came to Jerusalem, some of the gathered were go to the Gentiles and proclaim the risen Lord.

So why did the apostles at first stay in Jerusalem? Richard Bauckham has suggested that it may have been a deliberate strategy to take the gospel to Jews living outside Israel. Jews from far and wide came to Jerusalem not just for Pentecost, but for all the major Jewish festivals. The best way for the apostles to reach the diaspora Jews was by proclaiming the gospel in Jerusalem and encouraging converts to take the message to their synagogues back home. Gentiles would be reached through the God-fearers, who associated with the synagogues without becoming fully Jews. This helps to explain how the gospel reached Egypt, Rome and elsewhere comparatively early. It was an enactment of Isaiah 66 (Bauckham, 2011, pp. 198–9; cf Gehring, 2004, p. 90).

The strategy was undermined by the persecution that scattered the Jerusalem believers across Judaea and Samaria, making Jerusalem a less secure base for mission (Acts 8.1). At the same time, the Holy Spirit provided a series of unexpected experiences that encouraged the church to become more centrifugal in outlook. Some of the Samaritans were converted (Acts 8.4–25). An Ethiopian eunuch became a believer outside Jerusalem (Acts 8.26–39). Philip continued preaching in the towns to Caesarea (Acts 8.40). At Caesarea, Peter witnessed the outpouring of the Spirit on the household of the Gentile Cornelius, an event that had a profound impact on the Apostles’ thinking (Acts 10.9—11.18). Clearly mission did not require staying in Jerusalem!

To cap it all, in an astonishing break with the past, Jewish converts from Cyprus and Cyrene took the gospel to Gentiles in Antioch. They described Jesus not as ‘messiah’ but as ‘Lord’, a term that pagans used for their cult divinities including, notably, Caesar himself. ‘From now on the word about Christ, and the faith of Christ, began to work through the vast complex of Greek and Roman thought’ (Walls, 1996, pp. 52–3).

Paul developed this process of going out to different cultures and immersing the gospel in them. Schnabel has argued that Paul was not a cross-cultural missionary. He was bi-cultural, a Jew who was also at home in Graeco-Roman culture (Schnabel, 2008, pp. 329–31). But this ignores how Paul crossed social boundaries. Ronald Hock has described Paul’s leather-working, which provided financial support during his missionary journeys. It was the work of artisans, whom the elite viewed with hostility and contempt. Hock stresses how difficult this must have been for Paul who by birth came from the elite (Hock, 2007, p. 35). Moreover, as Paul taught from house to house in cosmopolitan centres like Ephesus (Acts 20.20), he would have entered households from a variety of social backgrounds – Roman cities were melting-pots of cultures, classes and ethnic groups.

Paul identified with the contexts he sought to reach. He became all things to all people (1 Cor. 9.22), and allowed the needs (and so cultures) of Jews and Gentiles to inform his behaviour by becoming the slave of his listeners (1 Cor. 9.19). He entered the habits of thought of his audiences and showed what the gospel would look like when it was enacted in their setting. So in Corinth, where people cherished success, sought to climb the social ladder and prized clever rhetoric, Paul had an occupation without status, assumed a servant role and rejected crowd-pleasing rhetoric in favour of standard classical forms (Thiselton, 2006, pp. 6–19). He showed how the gospel was distinctive within a Corinthian way of life.

In identifying with context to be distinctive within it, Paul was imitating Jesus and he expected the small congregations he founded to do the same. Church happened in the midst of the everyday – in the home, which was the centre of day-to-day life. ‘Worship and the daily life of the Christian [were] bound together in the household’ (Becker, 1993, p. 246). John Drane notes that

different social contexts enabled the emergence of many different styles of Christian community, and there was never any guarantee that the church in one place would be the same as the church in a different setting. Indeed, this ability to contextualize itself within such diverse cultures is perhaps the one thing that, above all others, explains the attraction of the Christian gospel. (Drane, 2009, p. 196)

Within these different settings, relationships between members of the new gatherings were entirely transformed (or at least meant to be). Distinctions between Jews and Greeks, masters and slaves, and men and women began to be redefined as members saw themselves as brothers and sisters in Christ. The communities that made up the church were living an incarnational life. Immersed in their contexts, they showed how the Spirit could make their contexts very different. When the gospel went out from Jerusalem, it took a different shape in different settings.

For reflection

The shift from centripetal to centrifugal mission is one of the big stories of Scripture. It is consistent with calls today for the church to adopt a ‘we’ll go to you’ rather than ‘you come to us’ approach to mission. But just as Jesus drew people to himself, so did many of Paul’s new congregations. Presumably, that is why they took root and multiplied. They had an attractional, come-to-us dynamic. In a sense these new communities were ‘little Israels’, attracting people round about, but within a story that had opened an incarnational chapter. Adopting a ‘go’ strategy, Paul and others gave birth to gatherings whose corporate lives also invited ‘come to us’. Has the distinction between ‘come’ and ‘go’ mission sometimes been overdrawn? Perhaps we should think of a cycle: a church goes out when it starts a new church, which attracts people. In time the new chuch goes out to start a further church. ‘Go’ leads to ‘come’, which is followed by ‘go’.

Sustaining the ‘mixed economy’

Within fresh expressions circles, there are frequent references to the mixed-economy church, in which inherited church (with its inherited life and structures) and new forms of church exist side by side, in mutual respect and support. But this is not always easy. Are there lessons that can help us from the New Testament church?

Ray Anderson has argued that the Antioch church can be seen as emerging out of the church at Jerusalem. Under Paul’s ministry and teaching, it produced an emergent theology, based on the Spirit’s revelation about Jesus. This theology was very different to that of the Jerusalem church, which was committed to historical precedent and the tradition of the Twelve. He claims that

the emerging churches in our present generation can find their ecclesial form and their core theology by tracing out the contours of the missionary church under Paul’s leadership based at Antioch. (Anderson, 2007, p. 21)

Unfortunately, Anderson’s reading of the New Testament privileges new expressions of church over inherited forms and their traditions. Jerusalem, which in Anderson’s reading can be seen as an inherited church, appears to be the big problem. It is ‘controlled by a fortress mentality’ (Anderson, 2007, p. 27). Anderson underlines the conflicts between Antioch and Jerusalem, but downplays their attempt to stay together and ignores the range of views that existed among believers in Jerusalem (and in Antioch, too, presumably).

Jerusalem can be viewed more sympathetically if we understand the troublesome problem of identity the early believers faced. The key question for the Jerusalem followers of Jesus, as for many in the inherited church now, was how to make space for believers with a very different sense of spiritual identity.

The dispute over identity

The Jerusalem church was born as a reform movement among the Jews. The disciples attended the Temple daily (Acts 2.46) and had a strong sense of their Jewish identity. They saw themselves as the nucleus of a new Israel, living in the last days. As we have seen, they were extremely mission-minded. They assumed that Gentiles would come to faith, but they expected them to do so by becoming Jews.

The conversion of Cornelius challenged that expectation. Peter’s vision of clean and unclean animals together in Acts 10 symbolized, for him, the end of Israel separating itself from the nations. The Spirit falling on Cornelius’ household convinced him that those present could become Christians as Gentiles without converting to Judaism, and his fellow leaders in Jerusalem agreed (Acts 11.18). This was a very significant expansion of the apostles’ sense of spiritual identity: through the Spirit, they were forming a Jewish/Gentile community, not just a Jewish one.

It was of course Paul, deeply immersed in Gentile mission, who did most to reconceptualize the place of Gentile Christians in God’s purposes. They were not coming into Judaism but into church, a new Israel comprising Jews and Gentiles, whose cornerstone was Jesus. Through him all were made one (Gal. 3.26–9).

This notion of Christian identity was very different to that of the more conservative believers. Until recently, it has been common to distinguish between a ‘conservative’ Hebrew group of Aramaic-speaking believers, who clung fiercely to their Jewish traditions, and ‘liberal’ Greek-speaking converts from the Jewish Diaspora, the so-called ‘Hellenists’. New Testament scholars now tend to think that conservatives and liberals, if one can use such terms, were drawn from both Hebrew and Hellenistic backgrounds (Witherington III, 1997, pp. 240–7). Indeed, there was probably not a distinct liberal camp in competition with a conservative one: views on such issues as resistance to Rome, temple worship, purity codes, circumcision and eschatological expectations more likely ranged along a spectrum for each issue. These different spectrums may well not have corresponded to each other (Wright, 1992, p. 454).

With that in mind, conservative elements, who treasured their Jewish identity, no doubt saw the baptism of Cornelius without becoming a Jew as an exception rather than the new norm (Dunn, 2009, p. 402). But when the birth of the Antioch church and Paul’s first mission showed that Cornelius was far from an exception, the issue of circumcision – Gentile converts becoming Jews – flared up again. In Acts 15 the Council of Jerusalem confirmed that circumcision was not required, yet added an important rider (‘the apostolic decree’): Gentile believers were to observe some of the Jewish food laws and certain other stipulations (Acts 15.20, 29).²

Though the traditionalists had lost on circumcision, their desire to protect their Jewish identity had been acknowledged – which made sense from a mission view point. If they strayed too far from their Jewish traditions, mission to their compatriots would have become almost impossible (see Gal. 2.9). A way had been found to combine a single identity – one Lord, faith and baptism – with the preservation of distinctive identities (Jewish and Gentile).

Maintaining fellowship

These different trajectories of self-understanding inevitably strained relationships among the early Christians. Yet the believers went to extraordinary lengths to maintain their fellowship. When Gentiles started coming to faith in Antioch, for example, the Jerusalem leaders sent Barnabas to guide and encourage the new church – ‘and no doubt bring it under the supervision of the Jerusalem community’ (Brown and Meier, 1982, p. 33).

The oversight was done with sensitivity. Barnabas appears to have stayed in Jerusalem after the persecution and was trusted by the Twelve (Brown and Meier, 1982, p. 34). But he was also from Cyprus (Acts 4.36) and so shared an affinity with those who were birthing the new church. His name, ‘Son of Encouragement’, reflected the spirit in which the accountability was exercised – a lesson for inherited churches today. The Antioch church reciprocated with similar generosity. When famine hit Judaea, they sent Barnabas and Paul to Jerusalem with a financial gift (Acts 11.27–30). There was mutual commitment.

This commitment was tested to near breaking point some time after Paul’s first missionary journey. On a visit to Antioch, Peter ate freely with the Gentile Christians in the city. He then withdrew from this table fellowship under pressure from newly arrived traditionalists from Jerusalem, who were concerned that Peter was not fully observing the Jewish food laws by eating with the Gentiles (Gal. 2.11–3). This withdrawal implied that the Gentile Christians should be treated as a separate group. They were being pressured to become more Jewish (Dunn, 2009, p. 474). For Paul an issue of identity was at stake. Were Gentile believers to be regarded as distinct from the Jews, or were they members of the one body of Christ, belonging on equal terms?

Two views of the Antioch dispute

The traditional sequence

Antioch dispute

Galatiansletter

Council of Jerusalem

The sequence as understood by many recent scholars

Council of Jerusalem

Antioch dispute

Galatiansletter

The episode has been reconstructed in different ways. The traditional view is that it (and the letter to the Galatians) happened before the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15, which is why Paul does not appeal to the apostolic decree in his letter (Schnabel, 2008, pp. 51–6). Indeed, it may have been this dispute that helped precipitate the Council (Acts 15.1–2). On this view, the place of Gentile converts within the Christian community was settled at Jerusalem, with Paul’s argument prevailing.

The ‘mixed economy’, if you like, held together through a process of shared discernment in which both sides in the dispute spoke openly and listened to each other (Acts 15.5, 12), stories were told and interpreted in the light of Scripture (vv. 7–18), the Spirit was seen to be involved (v. 28), and a solution was reached that gave something to both parties. Gentiles were not required to be circumcised, but were to observe some of the Jewish eating practices (v. 20).

The counter view is that the Antioch incident (and the Galatian letter) occurred after the Jerusalem Council. In Galatians 2.1–10 Paul describes a meeting in Jerusalem, which Dunn and others assume refers to the Acts 15 Council, and then describes the dispute in Antioch. This is taken to be the sequence in which the events took place (Dunn, 2009, p. 470). Presumably, the Gentile believers in Antioch were observing the apostolic decree, and the Jews from Jerusalem wanted them to go further and obey all the Jewish food requirements.

Rather than Peter backing down and Paul prevailing in his argument as traditionally assumed, probably most New Testament scholars today believe that the Antioch church sided with Peter (Dunn, 2009, p. 491, n. 312). This view rests on Paul’s failure to tell us he prevailed. When he won the day at the earlier meeting in Jerusalem, he says so (Gal. 2.6–10). If he had been equally successful at Antioch, why did he not say that Peter, Barnabas and the others agreed with him? This would have greatly strengthened his argument to the Galatians.³ Instead of Paul persuading the others, it seems that there was a serious breach.

If we take this view, the succeeding story of the ‘mixed economy’ becomes remarkable. In an astonishing act of magnanimity, Paul after a while suggested to Barnabas, who had sided with Peter, that they go together to visit the churches they had founded (Acts 15.36). Paul must have felt let down by Barnabas and perhaps Barnabas thought that Paul had been unreasonable, yet they were still ready to work together. The partnership broke down because Barnabas wanted to take John Mark, but Paul was concerned about his reliability – he had deserted them on their previous missionary journey (Acts 15.37–9).

Nevertheless, Paul continued his missionary work. Assuming Luke’s chronology, after a period he returned to the Antioch church (Acts 18.22–3), even though – due to the outcome of the earlier dispute – he was unable to identify with its Peter-leaning ethos (Murphy-O’Connor, 2002, p. 170). He then established a second base for mission at Ephesus (Acts 19.9–10).

It seems that the two sides in the Antioch dispute permitted some widening of the distance between them. Paul went to the Gentiles and Peter to the Jews (Gal. 2.8),⁴ each following the Spirit within their mission spheres. Yet both sides maintained good relationships. When famine hit Judaea, Paul organized a financial gift from his new congregations to the Jerusalem church (1 Cor. 16.1–4). Then he ‘tore himself away’ from his missionary work (Acts 21.1) to give an account of his activities to the leaders in Jerusalem.⁵ The brothers there received him warmly, the elders rejoiced in the fruits of his labour and Paul agreed to the elders’ request to demonstrate, as a Jew, his willingness to observe the Jewish laws (Acts 21.17–26). Despite their differences, both sides of the Antioch debate worked hard to maintain fellowship.

For reflection

Just as the admission of Gentiles without circumcision challenged more conservative Jewish believers, some Christians today feel that new contextual churches are challenging their church identities. Yet for all its strains, the Jewish–Gentile ‘mixed economy’ survived by allowing space for two different notions of Christian identity to exist side by side – one with a Jewish and the other with a Gentile flavour. The two sides allowed diversity and gave priority to preserving magnanimous relationships. Ultimately, when identity-charged practices diverged, what held the believers together – through the Spirit – was their determination to relate well at a personal level.

How far does this provide a blueprint for today’s ‘mixed economy’? It certainly illustrates how different traditions within the church can – and should – maintain fellowship. But does this mean that new and existing types of church must develop relationships within the current denominational structures? While maintaining fellowship has to take some structural form, are those who sit light to the denominations right to question whether fellowship must assume today’s institutions?

Paul’s use of teams

The literature on entrepreneurs contains calls for less focus on the ‘heroic’ entrepreneur and more on entrepreneurial teams (Cooney, 2005, pp. 226–7). Might this apply also to pioneers of church? Paul’s experience is highly suggestive. He was far more than a ‘serial pioneer’ – founding one church after another: he also mobilized other pioneers, and this was one of the keys to the outstanding fruitfulness of his missionary work.

From mission team to centre mission

Paul followed the pattern of Jesus, who both assembled a team of disciples and sent them to announce the kingdom in pairs (Luke 10.1). He had a strong sense of being part of a team. ‘I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow’ (1 Cor. 3.6). ‘For we are God’s fellow workers’ (1 Cor. 3.9). He saw himself as collaborating with others both to initiate church and build it up into a ‘temple’, whose holy living made it a fit place for God’s presence (Barton, 2003, pp. 37–8).

On Paul’s so-called ‘first’ missionary journey,⁶ he and Barnabas were commissioned as a pair, but they quickly brought in John Mark as a helper (Acts 13.5). It seems that they preferred to work as a three. When they acted as a pair in Galatia, it was because Mark had left them rather than out of choice (Acts 13.13). On his second journey, Paul started with Silas but soon added Timothy (Acts 16.1–2). Being half Greek, Timothy came from a similar background to some of the people Paul was seeking to reach and strengthened the team’s ethnic mix (Hopkins, 1988, p. 12). Later, as Paul’s teams grew in size they became more culturally diverse, which must have further helped them to relate to the diversity of people they encountered (Acts 20.4).

Members joining or leaving the team frequently did so in pairs – Silas and Timothy in Acts 18.5, Timothy and Erastus in Acts 19.22 and presumably Paul and Luke in Acts 20.6 (Hopkins, 1988, p. 12). This highlights again how teams were central to Paul’s approach.

Where possible, Paul seems to have preached the gospel while others on the team did the work of catechesis (Acts 18.5; 1 Cor. 1.14–17). Is this why Luke, on the second and third journeys, became a valued member? Was he perhaps collecting stories about Jesus, which he passed on to the new converts and eventually became his Gospel?⁷ Paul’s teams expanded as his work matured. On his third journey, he was accompanied by at least eight people for a period.⁸ Larger teams enabled Paul to keep breaking new ground while still supporting churches recently established. When disputes threatened the church at Corinth, for example, Paul sent Timothy to help resolve the situation (1 Cor. 4.17).

His teams were largely self-funding – Paul was keen not to depend financially on the people he sought to reach (1 Thess. 2.9). On his first journey, Paul stayed scarcely long enough in one place to get established in his leather-working trade, so it may be that he drew on funds from his wealthy background or that he and Barnabas were supported by the Christians at Antioch and Cyprus.⁹ On his second journey, however, he found work in Corinth (Acts 18.3) and later in Ephesus. In Acts 20.34 Paul reminds the Ephesian elders that his paid work helped to support not only himself, but his companions. At times his fellow workers supported him (2 Cor. 11.9). Resources were pooled within the team.

Being financially self-sufficient had many attractions. It modelled sacrificial support for others (Acts 20.35), the workplace almost certainly contained evangelistic opportunities¹⁰ and mission was not held up through lack of funds. Though Paul also received financial gifts from some of his new churches (for example Phil. 4.14–8), it is striking that for much of the time the extraordinary fruitfulness of his ministry depended on activity largely in his spare time (though he might not recognize the language).

The expansion of Paul’s teams as his work progressed was a significant strategic development. They drew on ‘centre missions’ – young congregations, equal in status, networked with each other in major cities, such as Ephesus, and which then became the bases for mission (Gehring, 2004, pp. 180–2). These bases sent workers to help Paul and his permanent colleagues for a limited time. Temporary workers ranged from householders like Stephanas to the slave, Onesimus, from the house of Philemon. Nearly a fifth were women (Schnabel, 2008, p. 251). Here was a very different approach to mission than the centrally organized team sent out from Antioch, travelling from place to place. Co-workers came and went from a variety of congregations, which often acted on their own initiative (for example Acts 18.27).

Like Ephesus, where a missional centre reached out to its hinterland, congregations increasingly engaged in evangelism. First Corinthians 9.1–2 implies that a number of apostles – church founders – emerged (see Eph. 4.11). Gifts of the Spirit to the church included evangelists (Eph. 4.11) and the witness of individual Christians was assumed to be desirable (1 Cor. 7.16; Titus 2.10; 1 Peter 3.1–2). Howard Marshall concludes:

The strong evidence of Acts is that local congregations expanded and grew through the efforts of their members; the story of the Hellenists who fled from Jerusalem and the growth of the church at Antioch is representative of what must have happened more widely. (Marshall, 2000, p. 263)

In a remarkably short time, Paul’s outreach had evolved from mission team to centre mission, based on a growing number of reproducing congregations. At the heart of centre mission was Paul’s team, involving a complex web of relationships in which over 50 people made various contributions (Dunn, 2009, pp. 566–71). As Dunn notes, Paul must have been a most accomplished leader who inspired personal loyalty and commitment (Dunn, 2009, p. 572).

Keys to effective teamwork

We know little about the day-to-day life of Paul’s teams, but from scattered hints we can detect some practices that made his teams effective. First, Paul took great care over selection.

Reviews for Church for Every Context

[tcarter_77 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A comprehensive, thorough, and accessible exploration of the theology, theory, and practice of the developing Fresh Expressions of church (FX) movement in the UK. As a Pioneer Minister in the early stages of leading a new contextual church I kept coming across analytical frameworks that allowed me to think more clearly about experiences I am encountering in this ministry. I was also grateful for the rooting of much of this analysis with practical examples. There are areas in which I disagree with the authors, but I cannot argue with the clarity and depth of their arguments. They are robust but generous in their engagement with the critics of the FX movement. They are also not deferential to supporters of FX if they perceive weaknesses in their thinking or practice. All in all a really helpful resource, which I imagine I will be returning to again and again.