Leading a Church to Maturity in Love

A Theological and Practical Guide to Church Leadership

David R. Tomlinson

• Publisher: Sacristy Press
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781789590258
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religious Institutions & Organizations

Churches are intended to be inclusive communities of love, yet the reality is often different, and leaders find themselves needing to resolve conflict and ease tensions within the community, as they are attempting to facilitate change. David Robert Tomlinson draws on systems thinking and conflict resolution techniques originating in the Anabaptist tradition as well as on his extensive experience in ordained ministry and offers practical guidance and a vision for constructive church leadership that can indeed facilitate churches that are rooted and grounded in love and canembrace change with confidence and resilience.

Chapter 1

The Church—An Inclusive Community

A warm welcome

Many Christian communities aspire to be inclusive and to offer a warm welcome to all. However, aware that the Church is seen by some as exclusive and liable to judge those who do not conform to the popular stereotypes of followers of Jesus Christ, some churches and cathedrals feel the need to spell it out. Here is the ”welcome statement” of Coventry Cathedral which makes explicit that everyone without exception is welcome:

We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, widowed, straight, gay, confused, well-heeled or down at heel. We especially welcome wailing babies and excited toddlers.

We welcome you whether you can sing like Pavarotti or just growl quietly to yourself. You’re welcome here if you’re ‘just browsing,’ just woken up or just got out of prison. We don’t care if you’re more Christian than the Archbishop of Canterbury, or haven’t been to church since Christmas ten years ago.

We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet, and to teenagers who are growing up too fast. We welcome keep-fit mums, football dads, starving artists, tree-huggers, latte-sippers, vegetarians, junk-food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you’re having problems, are down in the dumps or don’t like ‘organized religion.’ (We’re not that keen on it either!)

We offer a welcome to those who think the earth is flat, work too hard, don’t work, can’t spell, or are here because granny is visiting and wanted to come to the Cathedral.

We welcome those who are inked, pierced, both or neither. We offer a special welcome to those who could use a prayer right now, had religion shoved down their throat as kids or got lost on the ring road and wound up here by mistake. We welcome pilgrims, tourists, seekers, doubters . . . and you!

The humour adds to a sense of a warm, all-embracing welcome. This commitment to everyone who comes through the doors represents the catholicity of God’s Church and the generous love of God. This inclusive community is the fulfilment of the biblical narrative and an outworking of the statement in Genesis 1:27 that “God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them . . . ”

The Church’s vocation is to fulfil humanity’s calling to live as people made in God’s image, reflecting God’s all-embracing love. This matrix for understanding of what it means to be God’s people is grounded in the story of God’s people, often known as salvation history. Woven through the Bible is a recurrent summons for God’s people to care for the poor—the widow, the fatherless and the foreigner (Deuteronomy 10:18)—and to ensure that they do not oppress the weak. As they have experienced tyranny and genocide in Egypt, and have been refugees and exiles in Babylon, they are not to repress or subjugate anyone among them. Exodus and Exile are the two seminal events of the theology of compassion and the two definitive experiences for God’s people in the Old Testament, who are called to give expression to this theology. By including rather the rejecting the weak, the stranger, and those who are victims of violence, God’s people are to reflect God’s inclusive love.

God’s concern for victims of violence

God’s concern for victims of violence is seen early in the biblical narrative.In Genesis 4, Cain’s murder of Abel draws a stinging question, as God asks pointedly, “Where is your bother, Abel?” By his defensive, rebellious retort, Cain distances himself from his brother, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?”, and, of course, the answer is “Yes, you are.” Heavy with anguish and distress, God’s words reveal Abel’s demand for justice, “What have you done? Listen: your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground.”

Later in Genesis, we find the story of Joseph and his brothers. While Joseph is younger than his brothers, apart from Benjamin, he is his father’s favourite. His own naivety, allied to a streak of arrogance, further accentuates his brothers’ jealousy. They gang up on him and thrust him out of the family, selling him to Midianite traders; as he is taken away, they expect never to see him again. When they go to Egypt to plead for food in response to the famine ravaging their land, Joseph is in a position of power. He engineers a similar scenario that had resulted in his expulsion from the family: they must decide whether to abandon the youngest child, Benjamin, falsely accused of stealing one of Joseph’s silver cups. Unable to face his ageing father without him, Judah speaks up and offers himself in place of Benjamin: “please let your servant remain as a slave to my lord in place of the boy, and let the boy go back with his brothers. For how can I go back to my father if the boy is not with me? I fear to see the suffering that would come upon my father” (Genesis 44:33–34). This redeeming act stirs deep emotion in Joseph, and he cannot maintain the pretence that he does not know them. He weeps loudly and reveals that he is Joseph, whom they sold as a slave. Thus Joseph repudiates revenge, breaks the cycle of violence and forgives those who have wronged him. He is reunited with his family and they come to settle in Egypt.

God’s rebuke of Cain and God’s vindication of Joseph demonstrate God’s commitment to the victims of violence. In God’s censure of Cain, the sanctity of life is underscored. Through God’s redeeming action, God works to rescue and prosper Joseph, bringing the family back together and taking forward the plans that God has for the descendants of Abraham (Genesis 12:1–3). From the patriarch’s family, God is to constitute a people that will be the “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6). These seminal stories help to shape a people called to eschew violence, embrace social justice and care for the marginalized.

Exodus—the formative experience for God’s people—determining their self-understanding as a people who are not to oppress and victimize others

God’s rescue of Abraham’s descendants (Genesis 12:1–3), when they are exiled and tyrannized in Egypt, are formative events for the nation that declared that they were “God’s people”. Through this nation, God works out his plan for the reconstruction of a united human society, not formed and maintained by violence or pride, one that is not based on the murderous jealousy of Cain (Genesis 4:8) or the arrogance of Babel (Genesis 11:1–9). Integral to God’s plan is the giving of the law (Exodous 20:1–21). Through keeping these commandments, Israel gives expression to the special relationship between God and God’s chosen nation. In response to God’s rescue from bondage in Egypt, Israel is under an obligation to respond with unequivocal loyalty: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me” (Exodous 20:1–3). These laws demarcate their distinctive corporate life, identifying them to the world as God’s people. Their vocation is to represent God, reflecting God’s characteristics in their corporate life and in their relationship to their neighbouring nations.

As the Exodus demonstrates God’s concern for the oppressed, Israel is to mirror God’s commitment to those who are victims of the abuse of power through subjugation or neglect. In the same way that God saw their misery and heard their cries, and liberated them (Exodous 3:7–8), God’s people are, likewise, to have compassion on those who are burdened by poverty, and release them from their plight. Israel is set free in the Exodus, and as a result the nation is called to be radically different, distinctive. The Exodus constitutes the calling of Israel out of Egypt into a unique relationship with God: “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son” (Hosea 11:1). Summoned to escape oppression and bondage, to escape servitude, they are given a vocation: they are to be a nation that, unlike any other, does not victimize anyone. Conscious of their ill-treatment by those in power in Egypt, they are to show compassion to the weak and vulnerable. The rationale is clear and based on empathy: you have experienced oppression, don’t put others in that position when you have power. On the contrary, because you were powerless and defenceless in Egypt, you must take care of the widow and the orphan: “You shall not deprive an immigrant or an orphan of justice; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pledge. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore I command you to do this” (Deuteronomy 24:17–18). The golden rule—treat others as you would like to be treated—is the rationale for the summons not to mistreat the foreigner in their midst, and it is given emotional impetus by their experience of being refugees living in a foreign land. Again, they know what that is like, for they were a minority from a distant land in Egypt. “You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (Exodous 22:21). This emphasis on compassion for the powerless as a defining feature of God’s people is ignored in the brutality of battles and their aftermath, as the Promised Land is entered and claimed (e.g. Joshua 6:21).

This strong biblical emphasis on caring for the poor conflicts with the view that the poor should be blamed for their poverty. The tension between those who line up to blame victims for their troubles and those who compassionately look to help is illustrated in the book of Job. The central character faces a succession of devastating disasters that are not his fault, and ends up destitute, sick and grief-stricken. Three of Job’s friends, known ironically as “Job’s comforters”, overlay the multiple tragedies that Job has endured with guilt and shame. Job rejects their analysis, aware of his innocence, and pleads for his vindication. Beneath Job’s longing for a public restoration, and an intimate encounter with God, is a deep confidence in God’s faithfulness. His protestations are informed by a robust faith and a profound awareness that God is alongside those who are victimized and not on the side of their tormentors. “For I know that my Redeemer lives and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see my God whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another” (Job 19:25–27).

Exile as God’s judgement on God’s people’s failure to fulfil their vocation to be a “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6)

The halcyon era in Israel’s history was the reign of King David. Under his leadership, Israel became a mighty nation. Militarily powerful, Israel’s territory expanded, and David was recognized as the ruler of a vast swathe of land. He was internationally respected, and, with the country’s boundaries secure, the people felt safe. Internally, David consolidated the nation by curtailing the independence of the tribes and fostering a sense of nationhood. A great military commander, a shrewd politician and a visionary, David was the idealized king and his time on the throne the golden age.

During the reign of David’s successor, Solomon, Israel reached the high point of her wealth and influence. Solomon orchestrated the building of the great Temple. His reputation for wisdom and opulence was known in the surrounding countries and beyond, and his people enjoyed peace and prosperity. “Judah and Israel were as numerous as the sand by the sea; they ate and drank and were happy” (1 Kings 4:20). “During Solomon’s lifetime Judah and Israel lived in safety, from Dan even to Beer-sheba, all of them under their vines and fig trees” (1 Kings 4:25).

This propitious state of affairs did not last. In order to maintain his extravagant lifestyle at court and his lavish building programme, Solomon had to extract high taxes from the people and enlist a vast army of forced labourers. It is not surprising therefore that the people’s instruction to Rehoboam, Solomon’s son and successor, was “lighten the hard service of your father and his heavy yoke that he placed on us, and we will serve you” (1 Kings 12:4).

Rehobaom decided to do the opposite. His threat to increase the people’s burdens provoked the ten most eastern and northern tribes to declare their independence from the dynasty of David, thereby splitting Israel into Northern and Southern Kingdoms. After a history of unfaithful kings, the Northern Kingdom came to an ignominious end, when in 722 BC, Samaria, the capital, was captured by the Assyrians. The Southern Kingdom continued for a further 135 years.

In the line of kings, there were two that bucked the prevailing trend of reigns characterized by idolatry and injustice. At the very beginning of his reign, King Hezekiah (c.715 BC) renovated and reopened the Temple. Allied to this momentous event was a systematic purge of all the rigmarole and paraphernalia of idol worship introduced by his father Ahaz. When Hezekiah also led a revolt against Assyrian suzerainty, the King of Assyria set out to quash the rebellion. He toppled the fortified cities of Judah and laid siege to Jerusalem. Despite overwhelming odds, the capital of Judah held out. Eventually, a calamity struck the Assyrian camp and, having sustained numerous deaths, the foreign foe retreated. Hailed as a marvellous act of divine deliverance, this inexplicable and unexpected victory renewed the kingdom’s confidence in God.

Following Hezekiah’s death, Manasseh came to the throne. He kowtowed to Assyrian hegemony, and, with Judah reduced again to a vassal state, he decided to pursue a policy of religious syncretism. The nation became largely apostate with diverse cults and even child-sacrifice to foreign gods.

The next godly king was Josiah, who reigned from 639 to 609 BC. He inaugurated thorough reforms, removing all the idolatrous objects of Assyrian and Canaanite worship and closing down the associated sanctuaries. Having prohibited Spiritism and human sacrifice, he renewed the nation’s covenant with God. Notwithstanding this dramatic transformation in the political sphere marking the renewal of the national life, Jeremiah, the prophet, longed for and looked for a deeper renewal, whereby each individual would have God’s law “written upon their heart” (Jeremiah 31:33).

Josiah’s radical reforms were rapidly undone by his successor, his son Jehoiakim. Having enlisted slave labour to build his palace, Jehoiakim incurred the ire of the prophet Jeremiah, who launched a series of scathing attacks, accusing him of exploitation and violence. The prophet warned the king that his misrule and victimization of the poor were under God’s judgement: Judah faced the threat of invasion.

After 200 years of dominance, Assyrian rule was challenged by an emerging power, Babylon. Caught up in political manoeuvrings, Jehoiakim aligned Judah with the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar. However, when the Babylonians suffered a set-back because they failed to defeat the Egyptians led by the Pharaoh Necho in a battle on the Egyptian border in 601 BC, Jehoiakim withheld the tribute money due to the Babylonians, an act that was tantamount to rebellion. Jehoiakim died in 598 BC, and the Babylonian backlash came a year later, when the new King Jehoiachin was on the throne. Jerusalem was besieged and captured, and 3,000 of the nation’s elite were taken captive to Babylon, along with the Temple treasures (the first swathe of the Babylonian exile).

Nebuchadnezzar appointed Zedekiah, another of Josiah’s sons, to the throne of Judah. Weak and indecisive, the new king was easily swayed by his advisors who counselled him to look to Egypt for help. He did not heed the wisdom of Jeremiah, who presented an alternative but unpopular strategy: the nation’s only hope of survival was submission to Babylon. Expecting Egypt to come to his aid, Zedekiah revolted against Babylonian oversight in 589 BC. But without Egypt’s support, Judah was soon overrun and the Babylonian army again surrounded Jerusalem. Although the eighteen-month-long siege with its ensuing famine took a heavy toll, Jeremiah’s pleas to surrender fell on deaf ears. In 587 BC, the city’s resistance came to an end when the walls were breached. Retribution followed: the walls were reduced to rubble, and Solomon’s magnificent Temple was razed to the ground.

The Babylonian exile lasted about fifty years. Spiritually bereft, far from Jerusalem and without a temple for worship, the people found reassurance in Ezekiel’s vision of the “glory of the Lord” (Ezekiel 11: 23) amongst them: God had not abandoned them. In the crucible of exile, the theology of God’s people was reshaped.1 No longer was God viewed as territorial, located and limited to a particular land or city. Rather God’s people discovered, or perhaps rediscovered—after all, they had been rescued from Egypt—that God was with them far from home.

King Cyrus ascended to the throne of the nearby Persian kingdom in 559 BC. Through his military skill and prowess, the Persian nation expanded into an empire. Amongst the Jewish exiles, there was a sense of hope that Cyrus might defeat Babylon and be the means of their deliverance. This hope found fullest expression in the book of Isaiah in which Cyrus is described as the agent of God’s liberation of the exiles, whereby they can return to their homeland. “Thus says the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have grasped to subdue nations before him and strip kings of their robes, to open doors before him—and the gates shall not be closed” (Isaiah 45:1). In referring to Cyrus as God’s anointed, God’s agency was seen in deliverance for God’s people through Gentile kings and their armies. By finding Cyrus to be the Lord’s “anointed”, Jewish theology is further refined: God is understood to be the Creator who reigns sovereign over all the nations; even a heathen king can be an instrument of his purposes for Judah.

In 539 BC, Babylon fell into the hands of the Persians. Cyrus authorized the Jewish exiles to return and to rebuild their Temple, in line with his enlightened understanding of empire. A year later, the first and main party went back to Jerusalem and embarked on the rebuilding. After a significant delay because of opposition from the Samaritans, who were refused permission to work on the project, the Temple was finally completed in 515 BC. The next stage of reconstruction was the re-establishment of Jewish law under the leadership of Ezra, a priest and scribe, who returned in 458 BC. Thirteen years later came Nehemiah, who was sent by the Babylonian King Artaxerxes I to rebuild the city and in particular the walls. Despite opposition and threats the task was accomplished in 52 days. To mark this great achievement and to signify its importance, God’s law was read and expounded to a vast public assembly. Convicted, the people confessed the nation’s sin and renewed their covenant with God (Nehemiah 9—10). As the rebuilt wall was dedicated, there was great rejoicing and feasting (Nehemiah 12:27–43).

As Israel’s history unfolds, its theology develops in the crucible of exodus and exile. In their rescue from slavery in Egypt, God is on the side of the Jewish people, a tribal deity. As they establish themselves in the Promised Land, as the kingdom of David accrues kudos, riches and power, they see the God of their ancestors as supreme, the God who is above all other gods. Through defeat, banishment and return from exile, they learn that the God of their ancestors, the God of the kingdom of David, is the one and only, the universal God. This insight gives added status and responsibility to God’s people and their calling to be the “Light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6) is renewed.

Jesus Christ fulfils the calling of God’s people to the “Light to the Nations” by forming a new community around him characterized by self-giving and generous love

Jesus Christ gathers disciples around him who are to fulfil the calling of God’s people to the “light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). Through his teaching and his example, his followers learn the importance of rejecting violence and including those who have been ostracized. Notoriously, Jesus mixes with those who are typically excluded: prostitutes, tax-collectors and publicans (Luke 15:1–2). By enjoying their hospitality, Jesus signals the radically inclusive love of God.

Jesus’ critique of how power is used and abused by the political and religious authorities provokes a backlash. His prophetic action in the Temple in Jerusalem, when he rails against exploitative practices, inflames their anger and makes his death inevitable (Mark 11:15–19). Yet, through his death, we gain conclusive insight into his own u...