Much Too Pie-ous

     

     I was having a discussion with my friend Guy today.  Yes, he is also a guy friend, but he happens to be named Guy, in case there is any confusion. Anyway, we were talking about  models of evangelism and discipleship among ethnic/religious groups and how to help shape and equip an established church representing the dominant culture to adapt in being more hospitable and attractive to the minority cultures around her. Maybe you thought all guys talked about was sports, but we also talk about other subjects, like food.

     Guy used the analogy of a pie to illustrate how a primarily mono-cultural  church can create a slice from among its whole to serve as a concentrated focus on  a specific people group, such as Arabs.  That started me thinking about pies, which really had nothing to do with my appetite because at that moment we were enjoying a breakfast of cappuccinos with freshly baked baguettes and jam at McDonald's (Only  in France, people- only in France). As I thought about it, the analogy doesn't seem to hold up too well only because the room we carve out in the pie for them becomes what turns out to be a slice of something of an entirely different flavor and texture from the rest. And in the end, it's still exclusively our pie and we really don't understand what it feels like to be a little blackberry surrounded by a whole lot of rhubarb.   Cultural, religious, or historical barriers prevent us from helping invitees or new believers from minority or cultural sub-groups to feel welcome and to fully integrate into the life of the church. One problem is that we tend to think about the participation, power sharing and personality of our pie in terms of doling out rationed slices. It is as if  we're a pie divided, before we've even started.

      Keeping with the pie imagery, one could also envision just creating two entirely different pies. We see this all the time in more of  a "let them have their own pie" approach.  Often, it means ethnic churches that have their own culture and language, and exist quite independent from other mono-ethnic churches or who are loosely associated with a "mother" church, meeting for language-specific worship and fellowship at an alternative time and/or location. I get my pie and you get yours; everybody's happy, right? When the two pies do try to get together for a unified event, it can resemble more of a side-by-side dessert display rather than a true fusion of tastes and textures. 

     But what if there was a third model, and it wasn't a pie but a pizza. OK, I can hear the Italians objecting that pizza is pie.  I won't argue that, but I would like to argue the superiority of  thick crust over thin.  That's an argument worth fighting for. But on the subject of pizza and dessert pie.  They may possess the same shape, and maybe the same amount of slices, but I propose to you, they are constructed very differently. A pie's main ingredients are mixed together into a filling before baking. A pizza's ingredients are spread over the whole pizza a layer at a time.  Cheese, salami, olives, and more rarely, anchovies, are spread over the entire pizza, each with it's distinctive appearance and flavor, yet covering its entire surface to give it a unique array of colors, aroma, and taste. But should you want to concentrate a number of extra pepperonis over onto one quarter of the pie to give it a more dominant  taste of spicy goodness, you have not changed the nature of the pizza, which was always designed to be a "combination" from the beginning. Now you have a dominant flavor in a certain section, but one that still mixes with the other ingredients more organically.  Further, add a brand-new, untried ingredient to the pizza, and it should blend right in with the other varied, yet complimentary components.

     Isn't it typically the least mature in a given family who prefer not to branch out to order anything but the tried and true mozzarella pizza they have always eaten?  A combination pizza is more costly than a plain cheese. Of the two pizzas, one requires more work, more preparation of ingredients, and more investment than the other, not to mention a more diversified palate. But the result of richness in diversity of flavor is well worth the cost and the risk of ordering a large pizza with "the works".  In the church, we barely do OK at reproducing churches after our own kind. But we are pretty inept at reaching and integrating people different from us into our Christian communities.  In most cities, pizza restaurants outnumber pie shops. May it be so in the Kingdom of God as His Church and her rapid multiplication begin to reflect more accurately what God Himself destined to be an wonderfully diverse yet connected and globalized world.

Make Light Work

     I have been intrigued lately by Jesus’ description of us, His disciples, as a city on a hill.  We have a lot of those here in Grenoble. No, I’m not necessarily talking about disciples. We could use a lot more around here. But we do have a lot of hills. And mountains. Big ones, in fact.

     One of the prettiest sights in this valley which is full of them, is to look up at night and see the dancing lights of the small communities that dot the surrounding mountainsides. It inspires valley dwellers to say from afar “I want to visit that place one day.”  True community emanating Jesus’ warm light is pretty attractive.  Hopefully, it’s what makes the courageous few non-initiated seekers decide to give our Christian groups and meetings a shot. But what do they feel and experience as they pay a visit?  I imagine if I hiked up to explore one of our hilltop communities, the same lights that attracted me would be coming from pretty houses with welcome mats in front of the door. But I would still be on the outside looking in. All the warmth and light and laughter on the inside of the house, would now only frustrate me, as I stand shut out in the cold. Appreciating the light can degenerate quickly into resenting those in the light who remain blissfully ignorant of my presence just outside the window, enjoying their meals, their bedtime stories or their Monday Night Football.

     I think this is why Jesus followed up his city metaphor by saying, “No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house.” It’s that last phrase that really stuck with me. A city on a hill, Jesus-style, doesn't just radiate light. It’s not enough to catch someone's eye; we have to capture their hearts by inviting them all the way in to the house. Here the original word is better translated household, or family. Simply put, we have to try extremely hard to help people feel like they belong to what we have and who we are.  By giving them complete access to our hearths and our hearts, regardless of race, religion, or rebellious lifestyle.

    We are trying to build an authentic, non-religious community of Christ-followers here in this alpine city. What Grenoble is physically – a city on a hill – is what we purpose to be spiritually.  Grenoble historically was a place of refuge for persecuted Protestants in the 1500’s and for Jews hunted down by Nazis and their collaborators during World War II.  It continued to be a destination for displaced peoples during and after the Algerian conflict a half-century ago.  Today, immigrants still flock to this city, escaping their past in search of a real future. 

      God is also calling us to be like one of the six cities of refuge in the Old Testament which were set apart to receive those caught in crisis of their own making. These cities were the inheritance of the Levites, who were already well-versed in mediating between the harsh law and a sinful people.  Who better than they to serve as a compassionate buffer between the hapless pursued and the hell-bent pursuers? This is one of the key roles we feel called to fulfill. Grenoble, our city-of-refuge-on-a-hill, will continue to be a cross-roads for the asylum seeker and international sojourner. There are many, political, religious and economic refugees, students, laborers, and stateless immigrants who find themselves in France.  They possibly were attracted here by the lights of hope and promise they observed from a distance. But sadly, upon arriving here, they are often shut out from structures of culture, community and even church that surround them. If hospitality is an art, we can’t just offer to a world in crisis and conflict sterile replicas or shameful forgeries. We have to paint from our hearts daily, epic works of beauty and warmth that draw people into the scene, captured and inspired.

A Glowing Smile

      Many times when we tell people we live in Grenoble, we are asked, "Isn't that the place where that nuclear power plant exploded?". They take an unconscious step backward, as if we might be radio-active.  Then there are usually looks of relief when they learn we do not live in Chernobyl, (which is in the Ukraine), combined with a sheepish smile over evidently not having passed junior high geography. No, there is not radiation emanating from our city, but there is a lot of pent-up spiritual promise ready to explode and radiate outward to affect the cities, regions and nations around us.

     Why am I convinced of this? Because there is an undeniable part of this city's past that has profound repercussions for its near future.  Let me take you back to the Wars of Religion in France. From 1562-98 and again from 1685-1787, the Roman Catholic monarchy attempted to snuff out the presence of all Protestants in the country.  Many thousands fled to Switzerland and other European countries. Other less-fortunate, multiplied thousands were either systematically hunted down and executed or captured and sent to die slow, difficult deaths. Those not immediately killed ended up suffering a more drawn-out death, men condemned for life as  galley slaves on ships and women  sentenced to languish in unbelievably squalid tower prisons. Louis XIV himself proudly boasted that out of a Huguenot population of 800,000 to 900,000, only 1,000 to 1,500 had remained in France.

     The Grenoble Parliament played a particularly notorious role in terrorizing the lives of these Protestants, known as Huguenots.  Innocent families from all over France, many with young children, in attempting to flee to Geneva, were caught at the borders of the Savoie region just north of Grenoble. They were brought to this city, their children permanently stripped from them and sent to monasteries, while they themselves were thrown in the local, over-crowded prison to await condemnation to various horrible fates.  Here is just a sampling of the carnage:

          *1524 - Pierre de Sébiville, a Lutheran pastor in Grenoble, was burned at the stake for   preaching the Gospel.
          *1525 - Pastor Ginin was arrested and takren to prison at Grenoble, where his legs were bound and he was thrown into the Isere river.
          *1575 - Montbrun, leader of Prostestant resistance, was captured, shot and beheaded by the Grenoble Parliament.
          *1685 -  3 families from Bresse were brought to Grenoble. Their children were taken from them while the men's heads were cut off and put on posts in front of their houses.
          *1686 - Jaque Bouillane a new convert was strangled at Place de Breuil, thrown in the fire and his ashes scattered in the wind
          *1745 - Pastor Roger, 80 years old, was hung in Grenoble.  On his way to the scaffold he sang aloud the 51st Psalm. His body was displayed for 24 hours, and later dragged through the streets and thrown in the Isere river for preaching in Protestant assemblies

     The blood of the martyrs was sown in the soil of Grenoble. And yet, the percentage of evangelical believers rests at less than 1% of the population. Jesus' promise has always been that if a seed falls to the ground and dies, it produces many seeds. The martyrs of Revelation 6:10 will cry out from their honored place in heaven in the last days,  “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?”.  We are believing for a last days avenging of the blood of the saints martyred in Grenoble and all over the south of France. Not in judgment and condemnation, but in an outpouring of His grace before Jesus returns. We envision a widespread move of God's Spirit in Grenoble that sees many miracles, conviction of sin, restoration of broken lives, and healing of communities that  results in many thousands and thousands turning to Christ. All as God honors His word and the price paid by so many thousands of faithful, innocent believers. God's memory is long and is faithfulness endures to thousands of generations

    In 1925, over a million people from around the world came to Grenoble to attend an International Exposition of Hydroelectric power. The method of harnessing power was invented in this region and the nations flocked here to learn about this new source of renewable energy.  Again in 1968, the nations converged on Grenoble, this time to see the spectacle of the Winter Olympic Games.  It is our prayer that Grenoble once again sees a great influx of nations coming to participate in something powerful, dynamic and attractive, but this time we believe it is going to be another source of power - the power of God displayed among his people, resulting in miraculous reconciliations with God and among men. A pure, true last days revival.  Maybe one day, people will ask us about Grenoble, "Hey, isn't that the place where there is an explosion of God's presence?" And this time, the smile will be ours.