Church as a Corps of Discovery

In 1803, President Thomas Jefferson doubled the landmass of the United States with the purchase of the Louisiana territories from France. At the time, the Mississippi River represented the western border of the country. Nobody in Washington had any idea what existed on the far side of St. Louis.

So Jefferson, ever the eccentric visionary, commissioned his protege, young Merriweather Lewis, to put together a team of explorers. About Lewis, Jefferson wrote, he was a man of “undaunted courage, possessing a firmness and perseverance of purpose which nothing but impossibilities could divert from its direction, careful as a father of those committed to his charge, yet steady in the maintenance of order and discipline.”

This was Jefferson’s moonshot. While he possessed the world’s most exhaustive library in the world on the cartography and natural history of the continent, what he didn’t know far outweighed what he did know. He made Lewis’ number one objective to find an all-water route from the Mississippi to the Pacific. He thought Lewis would find wooly mammoths and other prehistoric animals. He expected there would be active volcanoes erupting in the Badlands. He thought the Blue Ridge Mountains would be highest on the continent. He believe the Indians would rejoice at the news of the sovereignty the United States and their “new father” in Washington, DC.

Lewis called his expedition the Corps of Discovery. While they didn’t find wooly mammoths or active volcanoes, and they failed to find an all-water route to the Pacific (and some of the natives were very unfriendly), what they did find changed the course of America. Their team made the first maps of the continent, detailing the Missouri River and Columbia River watersheds. They found plants and animals previously unknown to science. Lewis lived the life of a celebrity when he came home.

Lewis was a man driven by curiosity, adventure, and wonder. The great unknown beyond the edge of civilization called to him. So I wonder how much this story of Jefferson with Lewis and his partner William Clark can shape a new imagination for church in North America.

What if we thought of the Church as a Corps of Discovery?

By the looks of much Christian literature, there’s lots of reasons for doom and gloom. Count the articles with the formula title “Is ____ killing the church?” Count the books with central arguments about fixing the church. Count the narratives of scarcity, self-preservation, and anxiety—fear of shrinking budgets, fear of shrinking congregations, fear of shrinking cultural influence.

Yes, the culture is changing, but here’s the thing: culture is and always has been dynamic. Never static. And as a missionary in the Dominican Republic once taught me, when it comes to culture, different is just different. One isn’t better or worse than another. Which also means that 1950’s American culture isn’t better than 2010’s American culture. Just different. And the good news that God is making all things new is just as resonant and powerful in every culture.

Even the culture within the world of the Bible was an ever-changing thing. The world of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness was vastly different from the Israelites during the time of David and Solomon and again vastly different in the 1st century under the rule of the Roman Empire. And God was always present and at work in the most surprising ways.

In the opening chapters of 1 Samuel, a new movement of the Spirit begins, not with Eli and the priests (an institution established by God earlier in the story), but rather the barren woman Hannah and her miracle son Samuel.

When the Israelites cower under Philistine oppression, it’s not from King Saul (established by God) or his military that free God’s people, but rather it’s the seventh son of Jesse, a shepherd David armed only with a slingshot who defeats the Philistine champion.

At the height of the Roman Empire, when God puts on flesh and blood, it happens not in a family of the religious elite—Pharisees or Sadducees—or in a family of royals like Herod. Rather, it happens in the family of a blue-collar carpenter in the backwoods of Palestine.

The movements of the Spirit, these pivots of history, come from the most unexpected places. If the biblical narratives are any indication, the activity of God is not stopped by changing culture, and certainly not by existing religious institutions. If the biblical narratives are true, the Church isn’t something that can be killed, regardless of the click-bait headlines.

I visited a local Methodist church on Sunday. About 50 people were present to worship together, about a quarter of the capacity in the 100-year-old sanctuary. My wife and I were the youngest people there. It’s a situation that’s not rare for the Methodist churches in my state. But I was caught by one line in the affirmation of faith: “to risk ourselves in faith, hope, and love.” I liked that.

Where are the leaders who are expectant for the surprising activity of God? Where are the leaders eager to risk themselves in faith, hope, and love? Where are the leaders of undaunted courage? Where are the leaders hungry to explore?

What if our local churches were each a Corps of Discovery for their neighborhoods and communities? What if, like Jefferson and Lewis, we were caught up in the adventure, wonder, and curiosity of the mission?

What if we were more enamored by the question “Where is God at work in our neighborhoods” instead of the question “How can we fix our church”?

Our agenda will fail. Oh, let’s be honest: of course, it will. Like Jefferson, we may be completely wrong in our expectations, but what we do find may change the world.