Why the Café Church Matters

At the upcoming business session of the Seventh-day Adventist Church in Denmark in May, delegates will vote on whether to grant the Café Church in Copenhagen full church status, thus upgrading it from its current “company” status.

The move will doubtless be controversial to some people, since this congregation has had more than its fair share of criticism and gossip since its inception 10-15 years ago. On the other hand, it will be crucial to the future of Adventism in Denmark, not because of this individual church, but because of the vision it represents.

The Café Church is a new way of doing church which downplays certain typical traits (or oddities) and focuses on bringing the gospel to people with as few restrains as possible. Just as Paul became Greek for the Greeks, etc., it strives to become postmodern Copenhagen-ish for postmodern Copenhageners.

And of course there have been hiccups along the way. One of most talked about is the struggle with Adventist identity. But this is hardly unique to the Café Church. We all struggle somewhat with the issue of identity, and that’s not going to go away anytime soon. Here, at least, some people are honest in expressing their concerns about how the connection should be to the wider church body, or whether it should exist at all. But now the Café Church actually wants to be a part of the Danish Union. It is not necessarily an enthusiastic move (which is understandable, given the bumpy history), but it is sincere in wanting to embrace a wider fellowship, while maintaining its unique position.

The CC has been a pioneer, not only in Denmark (inspiring, among others, Aarhus Café Church, a big part of my life for many years), but also internationally, showing the world church community that fresh expressions of church are in fact possible, and essential to kingdom growth.

The decision on whether to include the Café Church into the Danish Union will be a final litmus test of the church’s willingness to embrace change and diversity. A rejection would signal, and result in, segmentation and streamlining. While this might enhance efficiency, since there would be only one right way of doing things, in the end the church would suffer immensely. The remaining church would be narrow in thought and expression, and its relevance to society would have to be reconsidered.

On the other hand, an affirmation would send a clear signal that there is hope for the future. It would express a belief that there are, in fact, ways to make the gospel relevant to a new era. This is not the only way – but it underlines the idea that there is not one way of doing things, but many.

I believe that the majority of church members in Denmark are actually in favour of fresh expressions and new ways of doing church. They may not all cherish a certain style, but they will embrace diversity and acknowledge that we are working in different ways toward the same goal.

Recently, I moved my own membership to the Café Church. And so the fate of my own new church body is at stake. But more than that, this is an opportunity to move forward, putting old grievances behind us and uniting in diversity for the sake of the gospel.

The Day Facebook Died

On a seemingly regular winter morning, Facebook suddenly stops working. That’s odd, you think, but brush it off. They’re probably just doing site maintenance. You’ll return later, and get some work done in the meantime. Hours later, you check back, only to find the site still not returning your clicks. A little worried now, you check your favourite tech news site for any word on the breakdown. Nothing. You continue work, but concentrating is hard. What if something happened in any of your friends’ lives that you need to hear about? What about your social life for the next week?

Finally, you get the news that you feared. The site is still down, but the New York Times, of all places, carries the story. Facebook has filed for bankruptcy protection, and has shut down all operations, pending a complete company makeover. Apparently, the business model imploded, and too many users spent too little time clicking on ads and too much time playing Farmville.

Faced with the prospect of a world without Facebook, you almost cry, but inevitably the realisation forces you to consider the situation. What will become of the world, now that the glue binding us all together has evaporated? How will you keep in contact with your friends? How will you find Aunt Gloria’s phone number? How will you invite people to your birthday party? How will you stalk the hot girl from your sister’s gym? And how will you get anything done, now that you have no excuse for not doing so?

Oh, forget about the last one. Might as well do something to distract your mind from the painful reality. You mindlessly get into your tasks for the week, only to discover that they aren’t as boring as you thought they’d be. You remember a coffee date with an old friend, and call him up on the phone. Hearing a human voice feels oddly satisfying. You agree on a time and a place. When your birthday comes along, you send out invitations in the mail. People respond with enthusiasm, commenting how nice personal it felt to get an invitation on paper. At the party, people are chatting happily to each other, catching up on the latest news, mobile phones happily tucked in pockets and purses.

After a few weeks, you hear about a new venture. Some talented upstarts are building a new place online which promises to connect you to the world and create a seamless social network for the whole world. You are momentarily excited about the promised opportunities, but then you remind yourself that talking to people isn’t that hard in the first place. Forgotten skills like placing a telephone call, asking a favour, small talk and reflective listening have somehow re-entered your system. Faced with a seemingly endless amount of social connections and prospects online, you can’t help thinking to yourself: So what?

Two Worlds Colliding

Prayer in a lecture hall at Aarhus University – twice. Even though it was at the Faculty of Theology, this is very unusual for an institution that prides itself of being secular; in a region of the world where the pursuit of reducing theology to theory has reached heights previously unheard of. Does this represent an actual thaw? That’s probably too early to tell.

I was in Aarhus for a conference on Church and Mission, celebrating the centenary of the Edinburgh 1910 conference on mission. It was in many ways a stimulating experience; exciting lectures (and lots of them), meeting new friends, networking with colleagues with common interests. Much of the theoretical input still needs to settle in my mind. But the divide between practitioners of faith and mission and academics studying the same field is an interesting concept. And try as you may, it’s not a divide that can be upheld as strictly as some might wish for. One of the strengths of the conference was that it brought together people from both areas.

There were, of course, a number of lectures of purely theoretical content; which can be interesting, no doubt about that.

But then there was the touching appeal on the first night of the conference by a bishop of the Christian minority in a Muslim country who gave a stark and de-romanticising account of the pressures and suffering taking place.

There were the American researchers presenting a methodology of studying local churches, or actually enabling local churches to study themselves with academic tools. When asked the question, what are some of the results of their research, they replied, that the local church gets a more healthy view of themselves and gets to reflect on their own mission.

And finally, there was the prayer. Controversial only for the sake of its presence. The professor was an American. It was the prelude to the morning sessions which might in other places of the world be called “bible study” or “devotional”, but here, in a secular university, it received the title “missional hermeneutics”. Of course. Very fine presentations, on both occasions.

So what’s the big deal? Well, apparently some believe that the distinction between practice and objective study should be extremely sharp. A Swedish professor voiced this opinion in his response to one of the lectures. I don’t think this holds water in the extreme sense. Of course critical discourse and reflection are important. But you can’t completely cut yourself off from practice. Would you study medicine without any hands-on experience during the education? That would be ridiculous. Yet this is an academic field. Or take my own field, Information Science. This was an academic study, but we didn’t shy away from building websites, writing software etc. during the course of this education.

But in theology, even the slightest little prayer is frowned upon by some.

Most probably, it reverts to an Enlightenment fear of the non-rational. A deep saturation of positivism; the belief that by staying detached you stand a better chance of objectively discerning the “real world”, or the “truth”. For a time, the natural sciences ruled the world, and other fields were also influenced by the view that rational truth not only existed, but was the saviour of the world. The other-worldly was excluded from rational thinking, and reduced to myth and superstition.

This, however, is no longer the case, and as early as Einstein the idea of absolute, measurable truth received its death blow. In the postmodern society people seem to be less critical of the idea of a divine existence. But many fields of study, not excluding theology, still seem to come short of embracing this.

Highlights of 2009

Like 2008, 2009 was a year with many changes.

The all-encompassing event of this year was, obviously, our wedding. It was a truly joyous occasion and a perfect day we can remember and cherish for many years to come. The planning ahead, and the arduous task of settling in, has consumed much time this year, but fortunately we are increasingly happy with the result.

The family has expanded in two more ways: Kat’s sister also got married this summer; and Casper got a little brother, our second nephew. Both highlights of this year.

A personal highlight has been joining Camerata, one of Copenhagen’s best classical choirs. It’s great to be performing music on a high level again, and especially the three playings of the Messiah in December were exhilarating.

Travelwise, we have been fortunate again this year. Awesome experiences in Thailand, New Zealand, Melbourne, London, and more give great memories, and a greater sense of the world’s diversity. This year’s new country was Laos (although that visit was very brief).

Not all has been good, though. 2009 was the year in which we said definitely goodbye to Australia. We left there ourselves in March, after a wonderful year in exile. And now my parents have now left as well, moving to Michigan. This will provide opportunities for returning to the USA, our first trip being this February. But leaving Oz is sad.

Another point of frustration is the trouble in finding a church. At the end of the day we’re happy living in the Copenhagen area: close to (some) family, the good opportunities of a big city, a good home, etc. But I guess some things still take their time in falling into place.

What will 2010 bring? My guess, at least, will be no relocations. My hope is that it will bring good experiences, meaningful relations, and a sense of making a difference to other people.

Happy new year!

Clean Table

I like food. I like variety. But I was brought up as a Seventh-day Adventist, which means the two aren’t always easy to combine. We don’t eat pork, shrimp, shellfish, intestines, etc. And a lot of us, including my family, are vegetarians. It’s not impossible to find and cook delicious and nourishing food, but it would still be much easier if we could just eat anything from the supermarket. I do eat meat now, but still not everything.

Earlier today I was in Netto, and noticed another customer shopping for his lunch: a loaf of rye bread, a cucumber, and three types of meat, two of these including pork. Too easy. Now I am aware that Netto’s product line is hardly inspiring, but it would help if I could sample all of their offerings, and not just the small portion that isn’t from “unclean” meats.

The same goes for travelling. It’s heaps easier to dine out when you can order meat, but still there are regional differences in the availability of clean meats. In Denmark you’ll probably find that around half of a restaurant menu features unsuitable stuff; in England it’d probably be less. Bangkok is manageable (chicken is always available) and even delicious if you’re lucky, but nowhere near the variety and attractiveness of Chiang Mai. A large Muslim population would usually be a boon.

But back to Netto – what if all of the different foods in the store were valid candidates for my consumption? If a Mosaic approach to eating had influenced a whole cuisine (Israel, anyone?), instead of the traditional Adventist meat rip-off products? If you could wipe the slate clean and come up with a new way of eating, unbound by tradition?

Or, on the other hand, what if I just cleaned my own table and started from the top. Stopped caring about clean and unclean and just enjoyed whatever nature (and Netto) had to offer. I probably can’t do it though – too much tradition.

Gratitude

It is with mixed emotions we celebrate Thanksgiving today.

We have a lot to be thankful for: each other; family and friends in close vicinity; job, house, material needs fulfilled; an opportunity to spoil ourselves and others with loads of great food. This is our first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and the first in our new home region of Greater Copenhagen. We live in a home with plenty of room for occasions such as this, and I’m looking forward to tonight’s festivities.

On the other hand, I look back to last year’s first and only Thanksgiving in Sydney. And this very week, my parents have left Australia for good, moving east to the U.S., the home of Thanksgiving. While this will give me a chance to return once again to my childhood home and doubtlessly bring countless new experiences, I’m leaving a big part of my heart down under.

A year ago, we were thankful for the good experience of coming to Oz to live, and for good friends that we were able to spend time with. And with eight visits over the course of nine years, Australia has given me much more than just an accent. It has been my home away from home, a source of constant joy, an always-welcome refuge, an endless summer, a wide new world, a spring of inspiration, and a never-ending dream.

Australia was where I proposed to my wife, and where we did much of our wedding planning. And especially this time of year, with Denmark turning dark and cold and wet, my heart wanders south. To a place which, in one sense, is no more. But in another, it still lingers. We are not done with Australia. The dream never dies, but more than that, we will return – somehow, someday.

My parents may have moved on, but – to quote Peter Allen – I still call Australia home.

Finding a Church

A common criticism of the post-modern ethos goes something like this: “Young people today are unwilling to commit to formal structures and engagements, such as church membership.” And this year, I’ve come to realise I’m one of them.

Not that I’ve stopped believing in church membership. I’m still a member of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, and I’ll probably stay that for at least some years ahead. I’m referring to local church here. Upon moving to the Copenhagen area, we knew that it would be a challenge to decide for or against joining a specific church, but we were not anticipating that we should still be in the void after 7 months.

This may be a negative result of being involved in church planting. For all its faults, Aarhus Café Church was my church – literally, since I was part of it from even before the start. When you join something existing, you have to accept it as it is, living with inconsistencies and imbalances. So how do you find a church family to belong to? Some of our criteria are: we want to be able to make a difference; we are looking for a church that has a clear mission and vision; we want a church that is going somewhere and which has potential.

If we limit the search to Seventh-day Adventist Churches, there are at least 5 within reasonable distance, but our considerations have mainly focused on two of these. There’s the one in which we were married; a large, traditional church which is pleasant but has a built-in inertia that, despite honest efforts, seems difficult to shed. And there’s the one which we attend most regularly; a newer church with lots of young people and a bigger potential, but which seems to be treading water at the moment, lacking the drive and vision of earlier years.

Then there is the radical option: start something new. We had talked about this even before leaving Aarhus, but know from that experience that church planting is a huge undertaking and needs a big commitment. Furthermore, partners are needed for such ventures – we would need to build a vision together with other people, expanding the thoughts we already harbour with the input of others willing to join such a project.

So what path should we take? That has yet to be decided. And while thorough thinking is a blessing, indecision can be a bane. Somehow, somewhere, something needs to happen.

In Real Life

This is a blog post. You read it in “cyberspace”. You may respond, you may not. Either way, it stays online. Unless you choose to hit Print – which is not recommended, for environmental reasons. Does the digital character of this interaction make it less “real” than if you were taking a walk in the park with me? Apparently, many people would think so.

Again and again you hear the thought voiced that meetings online, friendships in social networks, and digitally mediated discussions are just a shadow of the “real world”. Even the common expression IRL (In Real Life), builds on this assumption. Digital media can be good, but they can never replace the “real thing”.

Now I do believe there is a “real thing”, but I don’t believe that the digital world, the Internet, is fake, and but a poor replication of the world as it should be. But here’s the thing: all communication is mediated. Whether it is language, body language, telephone, email, or social networks, there is always something “in between” two minds interacting. Communication is indeed possible, but always mediated.

People are networking through social media. It’s not a game. This is real life. If you’re like me, most of your interactions take place online, and they’re not less real for this fact.

I post this during an Internet Evangelism seminar in England, focusing exactly on helping people to interact with their (digital) network and share the gospel with their friends in non-obtrusive, digitally mediated ways. There is potential in this, but apparently some mind-sets differ here.

Nobody’s Perfect

Summer is drawing to an end. As always, there’s been lots of weddings, not the least my own. And weddings are, like almost no other occasions, an opportunity to talk up someone (usually the bride, secondly the groom). There is no end to all the good deeds, traits, looks, experiences, or karma of the main person of the day. Nobody wanting come short, everyone tries to surpass each other in sucking up to… ahem, celebrating that particular couple. Which is all fine and well… if it were all true, that is.

The sad fact is, that while we may be happy on our wedding day, we are no more perfect than the day before. We still have our bad habits, our bad manners, our bad tempers, our bad hair days, and our bad breath. We honestly don’t believe all those compliments given in the mood of celebration.

Depending on how close we feel to the person of honour, we may choose to believe some of it. After all, a certain degree of affection does usually make us see everything in a better light. If not (or if we’re just in a cynical mood), we’re filled with an urge to lift the veil on the kind words and show them for the bull that they really are.

We should be nice to people. There’s no need to flash other peoples’ faults in their face. And I’m happy that nobody did that to me at my wedding. But seriously, guys, we’re not all that great people, any of us. So why keep on pretending? Weddings can be fun, especially dressing up and eating delicious food. But to be honest, I’m glad it’s over for now.

Around Denmark in 48 Hours

On Sunday and Monday I will be part of a rather crazy venture: Travelling around Denmark in 48 hours, stopping in 48 different towns along the way. Flying and driving. Here’s the story.

The Seventh-day Adventist Church (worldwide) has launched a program called “Follow the Bible“. A specially produced multi-lingual Bible (with each of the Bible’s 66 books in a different language) is travelling around the world in 650 days. Two of these days are allocated to tiny Denmark. And instead of just doing one or two events, we decided to copy the world tour, only on a smaller scale. So the Bible will visit every single Adventist Church in Denmark during its two-day visit.

Why are we doing it? Simply put, we want to draw attention to the Bible as the word of God. Hopefully, this event will encourage Christians all over to (re)commit to reading the Bible and sharing it with their friends.

Such a venture demands a heavy logistic effort, a private plane, several sponsored cars, and many hands on deck. My part is largely in communications, updating web sites, writing press releases and so on. So I will join the entourage, armed with wireless internet access, and try to keep people updated on the progress. We will work somewhat in shifts, so I won’t be at all 40 sites. But you may meet me in either of these towns along the way: Hjørring, Østervrå, Jerslev, Aalborg, Randers, Viborg, Silkeborg, Lille Nørlund, Herning, Holstebro, Odense, Svendborg, Nyborg, Slagelse, Faxe, Haslev, Ringsted, Roskilde, Nærum, Copenhagen, Lyngby, Køge, and Holbæk.

Danish readers should follow the event on followthebible.wordpress.com.