It was a beautiful spring morning in Vancouver. As I made my way along Pacific Avenue, I admired the nearby palm trees that gave way to a breathtaking view of English Bay and Vancouver Island beyond. My blissful commute to St. Andrew’s Hall was rudely interrupted, however, as a traffic cop appeared in front of my car with a radar gun—and a frown. My first feeling was disappointment. Clearly, I was about to get a speeding ticket, though the only show of it was a police officer stepping into the middle of the road and waving me over with a colossal index finger. No flashing red and blue lights. No mini chase. No drama. Just a firm movement of the hand and I was done; feeling less like a fugitive and more like a child being directed by a school crossing guard.
“Morning, officer,” I said with a pasted-on smile as I rolled down my window.
“Do you know how fast you were going?” the police officer asked; that famous question that’s supposed to turn motorists into mentalists. “Maybe 60 km an hour?” I guessed. “That’s right,” the officer replied, emotionless. “How fast are you supposed to be going here?” he inquired again. “Um, I don’t know it’s a city street so I assumed 50 km an hour?” I responded awkwardly. “Nope,” he said with a wry smile breaking on his face, “this here is a special 30 km an hour playground zone.” “Really?” I said with honest surprise looking around at rich green fields that flow down to the ocean, “where’s the swing set?” “I dunno,” the officer said waving his hand towards a grassy knoll, “somewhere over there, I guess.” He ripped a ticket off his book and handed it to me saying, “Next time, read the signs.” Ouch.
Driving, slowly, on the way to the University of British Columbia campus after that rather unfortunate encounter, I reflected on the police officer’s advice to “read the signs.” Surely that is part of the critical role of our ‘leadershift’ in ministry in these post-Christendom times. For teaching and ruling elders, reading the signs of the church, culture and movement of the Holy Spirit is critical for the flourishing of the human community and the proclamation of the gospel to those inclined to itchy ears and idols rather than worship of the living God in Jesus Christ. Greg Jones from Duke University spoke recently at the St. Andrew’s Hall/VST convocation of his famous phrase, “Traditioned Innovation” as a critical piece for church leaders today. Jones told the amusing story of the airline pilot flying many years ago from New York to Los Angeles who encountered terrible fog somewhere over the Rocky Mountains. The pilot announced to the passengers that he had bad news and good news. The bad news was that they were lost in fog. The good news is they were two hours early and ahead of schedule. Nice. Jones mused out loud whether that might be the state of the church today—in a fog and caught up in a world that always seems to be ahead of itself. Traditioned innovation helps us read the signs but interpret it in light of what God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit has done, is doing and will do from creation to consummation.
In my work with congregations it involves helping disciples (including teaching and ruling elders) “pray attention” to at least three things. I encourage them to listen attentively to God’s Word, God’s congregation and God’s community. An ability to read the signs in today’s post-Christendom Canada must be deeply rooted in our ability to listen to God speak through His Word. It is too easy to turn to other “experts” and idols that will gladly offer us alternative sources of authority from scripture. We also need to “pray attention” to the signs of the times by listening carefully to God’s congregation. In the local church, what is God up to? Who has God assembled in that place? What are the gifts and skills present and how might they be more effectively used for the glory of God? But we cannot stop there. God is clearly on the loose in our neighbourhoods. How might we listen carefully to what God is up to in the lives of those who live around us but may not be involved in our worshipping communities? My friend Catherine Neely Burton at Grace Presbyterian in Wichita, Kansas, offered me a good example of “praying attention” to God’s community in the neighbourhood. Her church is experimenting with something they call “Laundry Love.” Church folks show up at the local laundromat, pay for people’s laundry, offer snacks and talk with them while they wait for their socks and sweaters to wash. It’s an act of grace-filled compassion, but it is also a disciplined act of “praying attention” to where God is at work in people’s lives in the community. Many of the folks doing laundry on a Friday night would never show up in church on Sunday, but they are happy to talk with caring Christians about life and faith while their sheets and towels dry.
It’s an exciting time to be the church these days. Our loquacious God is always speaking and always on the move in the places where we live, work and play. The signs of God’s activity are all around us, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear the glory of God in the muck and mire of our everyday, ordinary lives. We need to read the signs. The next day, while driving to St. Andrew’s Hall, I passed the spot on Pacific Avenue where I received my ticket. Sure enough, there was that faded yellow sign indicating where a brief stretch of road switched from 50 km an hour down to 30. I had passed that sign countless times and never even noticed. Like the Emmaus road long ago, how many times have we encountered God’s divine presence and not even realized it? It’s time to pray attention to the signs.
