Peak Oil and the Local Church

At last weekend’s Inhabit Conference in Seattle, I had the opportunity to co-facilitate (with Brandon Rhodes) a conversation on “peak oil and place.” It was a lively and fascinating discussion. Near the end I asked a question that I also want to pose here.

Cheap fossil fuel energy has underwritten modernity and more than a century of America’s rapid economic growth. But the world’s oil resources are going into irreversible decline, and gas prices are through the roof. For this reason and others (climate change, high food prices, high debt levels), we seem to have reached “the end of growth,” in Richard Heinberg’s memorable phrase. Thus, “growth” can no longer be the practical standard by which we make decisions and judge the health of our economy and society. We need a new standard.

In the same way, cheap oil has underwritten the growth of certain types of churches. It has given people the mobility they need to commute long distances to church, given them the freedom to switch churches on a whim, and allowed church leaders to build ever-larger campuses on the outskirts of town. Peak oil is going to change this. Dynamic growth and dramatic size can no longer be the standards by which we make decisions and judge the health of a church community. We need a new standard.

Which brings me to my question: What should the standard be?

Submerging Church [Ekklesia Project Guest Post by Lee Wyatt]

[ On July 5-7, The Ekklesia Project will hold its annual gathering in Chicago, which will be on the theme of Slow Church.  Between now and July, we will be running a series of lguest reflections here by folks connected with the E.P. We've asked guest posters to reflect on the meaning of Slow Church from their own local contexts. More info on the E.P. gathering.  ]

Today’s reflection, the first in the series, is by Lee Wyatt.

Though we live (or have lived) in the age of the Emerging/Emergent Church, I have a different proposal for a new vision of church. I call it the Submerging Church! Am I serious, you ask? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe both. Read on and see what you think.

The Submerging Church, as I see it, is radically subversive, relentlessly incarnational, and ruthlessly hospitable. It dives deeply into everyday life, sharing it with others, while at the same time questioning and critiquing the conditions of that life we share. Since this community lives from its center, the risen Jesus Christ, its boundaries are porous and permeable with arms outstretched to everyone who encounters it.

Characteristic of the Submerging Church are these:

[Read more...]

Inhabit Conference

One of the key convictions of Slow Church is that God’s plan for reconciling all creation involves not only gathering a people, but gathering people in particular places that span the globe. The language of Englewood Christian Church’s covenant (where Chris is a member) puts it this way: the church community is “a manifestation of the Body of Christ in a particular place.”

Happily, there is a vibrant conversation happening in the church now about the importance of placedness. Christianity Today‘s This Is Our City project is one example. So is Jonathan Wilson-Hargrove’s essential book, The Wisdom of Stability: Rooting Faith in a Mobile Culture. And so is a comment a George Fox University professor made during a lecture at the Benedictine abbey near my house (which I heard about secondhand), that if one wants to understand what is happening in American Christianity today one has to be familiar with the work of Wendell Berry, the farmer-writer from Kentucky whose fiction, nonfiction, and poetry often explore the intersection of human community (the “membership”) and the land.