A pastor introduced himself to me at a local ministerial association meeting and asked about “my” church.
As I considered how best to answer, it struck me for the first time that we didn’t have a name. I mean, the idea had just never even occured to us.
When I told him that, he seemed intrigued.
So I went on to shared how we were a simple, participatory gathering of believers who were the church, rather than folks who went to a church, and we never even considered the need for a “name.”
He thought about that and asked a few questions.
I responded by explaining that we don’t follow the post-New Testament model of a sole-proprietor “pastor” who preaches and runs the “service” every Sunday.
Rather, my role is to be an elder who – with others – unassumingly insures a safe environment where everyone can gather and feel free to minister one to another, each according to their own gifts as prompted by the Holy Spirit …
You know, just like the New Testament says.
He quietly considered what I said, then responded that he guessed that was OK – after all, “God once spoke through a jackass.”
Seriously, he said that.
Sigh …
