Jordi has an insatiable appetite for being outside. If we are home, and there is an ounce of daylight, he believes he is entitled to be outside. And he meows incessantly until we (usually I–Pam’s tougher than me) give in. Jordi cannot be allowed outside unattended, because he will wander into neighbors’ yards, or run full-speed into them in pursuit of a rabbit or chipmunk. So we put a purple collar on him, with a bell which alerts us to his movements, and then go sit on the patio or in the grass to watch him while he stalks innocent animals, occasionally ushering him back within the boundaries of our property.
Thanks to Daylight Savings Time, we spend enormous chunks of time outside watching Jordi. A thunderstorm is a welcome treat, because he detests getting wet and shows no desire to go outside. But those are rare treats, it seems. And besides, I actually enjoy watching him. I grab a book and pen and go lay in the grass out back.
I spent a big piece of Friday outside with Jordi. Pam gets off at noon on Friday and I get off at 1 pm, so that’s nice. The temperature was in the 90s, too hot to do yardwork. So, with Jordi following me around the house, meowing and rubbing against me–not so much marking his territory as trying to subjugate it–I chose a new book, located a pen, and headed outside. And whiled away much of the rest of the day there, just laying in the grass. (Jordi, by the way, raced into the neighbor’s yard and caught a robin, which we convinced him to release after he had proudly carried it into our yard. It appeared unharmed.)
The book was Jim Wallis’s Call to Conversion, a 1981 book which he updated after 9/11. I read the whole thing on Friday. Now, I’m not gonna give it a ringing endorsement. The first chapter, the foundational chapter, didn’t totally click with me. And neither did the last two chapters. But in between was some great stuff, particularly as Wallis addressed poverty, injustice, peace-making, and the church in general. I’ve always appreciated Wallis’s writings. He founded the Sojourners community in Washington D.C., a “commune” type thing which focuses on social matters while remaining doctrinally evangelical (though many evangelicals dismiss them as liberals). He’s good on TV news shows. I’d much rather have him representing Christians than Dr. Jerry.
His second chapter deals with how Christians and churches have conformed to the world. And he takes this to an extent which would make most United Brethren either uncomfortable or guilt-ridden. Walls says what we’ve all heard countless times–that the lifestyle of Christians isn’t much different than that of nonChristians. He then calls for the church to be a community of believers that is noticeable to outsiders, noticeable because they are different–different enough to require an explanation. We notice the Amish; people ask questions about how they live, and the reasons behind their lifestyle must be explained. But who asks questions about how Christians live? NonChristians can look at the typical evangelical church without ever thinking, “These people are different. I wonder why?” Very little about us cries out for explanation.
It would be easy to gang up on the larger, richer churches, pointing to them as having conformed to the world. I certainly felt the world’s seductions (materialism, status, pride) more strongly at a large church. But I admit–very reluctantly–that there’s nothing special about how people at my smaller, poorer church live. Nothing about us that hints at a “peculiar people.” I doubt that unsaved visitors leave our doors wondering, “What makes Anchor people so different?”
Wallis says, “Modern evangelists must go through endless contortions to convince people that they are missing something that Christians have. Without the visible witness of a distinct style of life, evangelists must become aggressive and gimmicky, their methods reduced to salesmanship and showmanship.”
Wallis isn’t calling for Christians to adopt legalistic rules or for everyone to form communes. He’s more interested in Christians emulating the love and community of the early Christians, who “were known for the way they lived, not only for what they believed.” At Anchor, we’re probably known for being friendly and accepting, but I doubt that we as a people are known for how we live. Walls says our contemporary worship includes God, but also includes other “gods” with which we’ve made Christianity compatible, particularly the pursuit of wealth (which you do see more in some churches) and a sense of being culturally relevant. “We want God’s life, but we want the good life, too. We seem to believe that we can pay homage to our many cultural idols and still retain our integrity as God’s people.” I don’t know about you, but that cuts deep in my niche of the world.
In our quest for converts, we water down the gospel, make it easy and attractive. But Wallis points to the conversion of Zaccheus, who immediately made reparations to the poor. Zaccheus obviously heard, from Jesus, more than “accept me into your heart and you’ll go to heaven.” He turned his life over to Christ, but also radically changed his lifestyle. And for years to come, people no doubt asked, “I’ve known Zaccheus for years. What made this change in his life?” An explanation was needed.
Do people ask why I’m different? Why my church is different? Is an explanation needed?
Well, that was among the best chapters in Call to Conversion. I can’t begin to describe the power and prophetic nature of his chapter on injustice.
