Faith in Real Life: Creating Community in the Park, Coffee Shop, and Living Room

Hermaphrodites and Other Lovable People: Finding Hubs

It was 6:00 a.m. when I started the V-8 engine of my Dodge Ram pickup. I was on my way to a special meeting. I had no reason to be anxious, but for some reason this particular meeting had my stomach rolling like a kid who had just scarfed down an entire box of Captain Crunch and chased it with a box of Twinkies.

The meeting I was driving to would set a precedent for our church’s role in the community. A few weeks earlier, I had contacted several local groups that worked directly with impoverished individuals and families. I spoke to school counselors and principals, community center leaders, and people who worked at the local food bank because they were witnessing the effects of poverty and hunger every day. My hope was to get them around a table and initiate a conversation about partnering to address these issues in our community. So I invited them to breakfast at a local restaurant.

To my surprise, everyone accepted the invitation. As I drove, all sorts of thoughts, concerns, and questions raced through my mind. I had no idea how the meeting would go. Was the fact that I’m a pastor going to be a turnoff? Would they be interested in working with a church, or would they want nothing to do with a bunch of “Jesus people”? Over the years, we had accumulated a bit of social capital with these organizations; now I was spending it all on this one appointment. I was hoping they would let me into their circle of trust.

As I crossed the I–5 bridge over the Willamette River it dawned on me: This morning could turn out to see the crossing of a more significant metaphorical bridge—one that joined church and culture. I pulled into the parking lot of the Garlic Onion Ristorante, said a quick prayer for God’s favor, and got out of my truck. Zach, a school counselor, was already waiting inside. One by one, each person I had invited walked through the restaurant doors.

After we took our seats, I simply acknowledged that I was excited to see them. And then I bribed them: “Breakfast is on Grace Chapel, so please order what you like.” Most went for the breakfast buffet, making me feel right at home. It brought me back to the Baptist potluck days of my childhood—minus all the pushing and shoving in line.

A few moments passed, and as everyone began to eat, I opened the conversation. “On behalf of our church, I just want to thank you for all you’re doing for the poor in our community.” I felt some gratitude was long overdue. “The reason I wanted us to get together is so we can start a dialogue about the needs in our community and what our church can do to help.”

There. It was out there now. My agenda.

The table lit up with ideas as each person shared his or her perspective. The most interesting comment came from a woman named Sandi who was sitting to my left. Sandi was the chairperson on the board of the local food bank. She had a full-time job as a director of city development. In other words, Sandi was an important person in our city who had influence over such things as building permits. My first impression of Sandi was that of a strict librarian with a monochromatic personality—a petite, middle-aged woman with short hair, traditional glasses, and conservative attire. I had picked up from an earlier conversation that she was not a Christian or a churchgoer.

As Sandi began to speak, she said something so profound that it seemed to be prophetic. “What our city needs is a heart—a place where people know they can go to find help, compassion, and care.” It’s really not that profound that she would recognize that people need to experience compassion and care. It does seem profound that she would ask our church to be the center for finding it.

She was right! Her statement fired me up like a shot of adrenalin.

Her comment was followed by one from a school counselor named Katie. Looking right at me, she said, “You guys could be the heart of our city. You are like our Oprah.”

I took her comment as a compliment, not as a suggestion that our church ought to resemble a talk show. With resounding unity, these influential community leaders proposed that our church take the lead in rallying our city to address the needs of our community. What started out as a simple question had become a platform of opportunity to influence an entire city.

I could not help but ask myself, What if the church emerged as the heart of a city? The epicenter of compassion and care? For years it had been my dream to help build a hybrid church/community center. A church that would serve as a cultural hub. Instead of erecting a building for our own needs and desires, I have always imagined a place that serves as a career center, a medical clinic, a counseling practice, a recreational facility, a teen center, a food bank, a creative arts theatre, and a business conference space.

As the breakfast meeting was coming to a close, Sandi asked all sorts of questions about our church. “Are you guys a part of a large denomination?” she inquired.

“No, we’re just a single independent church.”

“What else do you do at your church?”

“Several things locally, but we also built a hospital in Nicaragua and an orphanage in Rwanda.” I said.

Sandi was so moved by what she heard that tears began to form in her eyes. Clearly, this had turned out to be a divine appointment—a great foundation to build on.

The church is in danger of becoming more and more isolated. Without its own relational strategy to engage the world, churches fade into seclusion and become strangers to their communities. The church must rediscover its incarnational role and start building bridges. We must connect.

Reconnecting the church with its community is a driving focus of Grace Chapel’s “park” environment. Within each community there are natural hubs of influence—relational frameworks that can increase the social exposure of the church. These hubs (for example, local schools, civic organizations, and other groups) provide unique opportunities to get outside our church walls and converge on common ground.

Every church can find its unique place of influence among their natural community hubs. Incarnating in these places will inspire us to see culture in a new way.


Chasm of Confusion
Your church is probably doing amazing things, yet those in the surrounding community often have no idea what you are achieving.

It’s easy for us to withdraw from culture rather than see ourselves as an integral part of it. Sometimes we employ this tactic to deal with our fear of the world. Let’s be honest. Some things in this world leave us feeling scared, confused, and troubled. The voices of terror within cry out to dwell in a secure place. As a result, we may build walls of safety, otherwise known as “the Chris¬tian subculture.” But there is an alternative view of separation in the Bible that can inspire us to break free from the coziness of the Christian subculture.

Biblical separation is known as sanctification—a word that refers to “the act or process of making something (or someone) holy or set apart.” Sanctification is translated from the Greek word hagiasmos (“purification”), from the root hagios (“holy” or “sacred”).

Sanctification has everything to do with position, process, and purpose. Sanctification is an act of God by which he “sets apart” a person, place, or object. When sanctified, we are in position—set apart and declared as holy. We are also sanctified in purpose—being set apart by God for a specific divine intention. Lastly, we are sanctified in process—from salvation as we begin the progression of being conformed to the image of Jesus Christ.

Being set apart as holy suggests something that is the opposite of sinful. Often we draw the conclusion that culture is sinful; therefore, to be holy we must separate ourselves from it. The irony is that when the church separates itself from culture, it forces people outside the church to view the bride of Christ from a distance. This distance becomes a chasm of confusion, leading others to draw incorrect conclusions about Christ based on misunderstandings.

It was never God’s intention to take Christians out of culture. It has always been his objective to change culture through Christians. Jesus prays to the Father, “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one” (John 17:15, emphasis added). The church is a masterpiece of divine artistry, an exquisite portrait of broken lives transformed into a new mosaic. Its radiance should reach into the furthest expressions of humanity.


Pop Culture
The word culture has many different meanings. For some, it refers to an appreciation of good literature, music, art, and food. For anthropologists and other behavioral scientists, however, culture encompasses the full range of learned human behavior.

The term was first used this way by the English anthropologist Edward B. Tylor in his book Primitive Culture, published in 1871. Tylor wrote that culture is “that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, law, morals, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society.”

I would label culture as “the collective expression of worldviews.” A worldview is the grid by which we interpret life’s most puzzling questions. It serves as a lens for thinking and believing. A worldview is an anthology of beliefs about God, truth, reality, the world, humanity, history, death, knowledge, and values. Our worldview shapes how we evaluate, make decisions, and create a sense of meaning for our lives. Culture, then, becomes the expression of worldviews through art, science, education, recreation, law, and customs.

Every human being—regardless of what we think of him or her—bears the image of God. This intrinsic spirituality of humanity is reflected in culture. Culture tells us everything we need to know about the positive and negative ways in which people respond to God’s revelation. There is much expressed in culture that represents exactly how God wants his image bearers to respond to him. Sadly, there is also much in culture that grieves the heart of God.

Instead of vacating culture, though, we should validate the good in culture and offer illumination to that which is dark.

Consider Paul’s approach as he engaged the Greek culture of Athens: “While Paul was waiting for [Silas and Timothy] in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols” (Acts 17:16).

Why do you think Paul was distressed over their idols? Was he offended by the iconic statues, or was he saddened because they did not know the one and only living God? I love the fact that he did not picket these idols with a cardboard sign, yelling, “God hates idols.” He could have stood from a distance and lobbed pithy religious grenades. Instead, he inserted himself into society: “So he reasoned in the synagogue with both Jews and God-fearing Greeks, as well as in the marketplace day by day with those who happened to be there” (Acts 17:17).

Notice how Paul expanded his influence from the synagogues into the marketplace. I can’t see Paul standing on a street corner in the ancient equivalent of Times Square, wearing a T-shirt that reads, “ Jesus is God with skin on.” As Paul engaged the culture of Athens, a wider conversation began:

A group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers began to debate with him. Some of them asked, “What is this babbler trying to say?” Others remarked, “He seems to be advocating foreign gods.” They said this because Paul was preaching the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.
ACTS 17:18

Ironically, the approach of these Epicureans and Stoics had much in common with the mind-set of many modern Americans. Epicureans believed that the greatest good was to seek modest pleasures in order to attain a state of tranquility and freedom from fear; one’s own pleasure, rather than service to God, was the greatest good. Stoicism was the most popular self-help philosophy of its day. It held to the notion that “virtue” is the highest goal and that humanity can rise above any circumstance by one’s outlook on life. Everything really good or bad in one’s life depended only on one’s self. Essentially, Paul was sparring in an intellectual joust between Howard Stern and Dr. Phil. Amazingly, Paul earned the opportunity to be heard, as shown in the next verses:

Then they took him and brought him to a meeting of the Areopagus, where they said to him, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? You are bringing some strange ideas to our ears, and we would like to know what they mean.” (All the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas.)
ACTS 17:19–21

Doing nothing but talking and listening to the latest ideas? Sounds like pop culture to me. Pop culture reveals its expression in the mass circulation of current trends and ideas. Paul found himself being invited into one of the greatest circles of influence within the popular culture of his day. His divine appointment gave him a platform to dialogue with these cultural leaders:

Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.”
ACTS 17:22–23

Taking full advantage of his platform, Paul affirmed their religious devotion and introduced his homily by referencing a god they worshiped but were ignorant of. He pointed out that he had “looked carefully” at their objects of worship. He was deliberate in studying their cultural expressions — the religious manifestations of their worldview. Paul’s commitment to understand their culture gave him the opportunity to influence and illuminate in a relevant way.

Engaging the culture in this way can unlock the mystery of your community’s concept of spirituality.

Recently, I had a fascinating conversation with Bobby Gruenewald of LifeChurch.tv. Bobby is an innovative thinker with a passion to see the gospel infiltrate culture. LifeChurch.tv has a priority to seat themselves at the table of culture and participate in the significant discussions that are taking place there. So I decided to ask Bobby how he sees the church’s engagement with culture.

“The church has historically been a part of shaping its culture,” he began. “However, several years ago—decades ago—the church appeared to be almost absent from that conversation. Within the last couple of decades, the church has tried to catch up and mimic culture instead of creating it.” He went on to say that it is our responsibility to figure out how to connect to culture.

In the same way in which Paul connected with those in culture by using the platform of a common spiritual exploration, the church must do anything, short of engaging in sin, to utilize the platform that culture offers us.


Hazards of Humanity
For many Christians, the word culture carries a scary association. Like a malevolent fog hovering in the chill of night. Or like the effect of these lyrics from the song “Thriller,” performed by Michael Jackson: “It’s close to midnight and something evil’s lurking in the dark ... You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes. You’re paralyzed.”

One Saturday morning, I found myself paralyzed in response to a conversation I had with someone in our community. Due to budget cuts, a local elementary school could no longer afford the upkeep of its campus. We offered to send volunteers to help the school’s staff deal with the overgrown weeds and thick, unruly hedges. Armed with shovels, rakes, gloves, and trimmers, we set out on our own version of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

Between endless wheelbarrow trips back and forth to the bark pile, I was approached by one of the schoolteachers. From the look in his eyes, it was clear he wanted to talk with me. Either that, or I had just rolled over the new flowers they just planted!

“So, tell me more about your church,” he said as he rested his arms on his shovel.

“What do you want to know?”

“What does your church think about homosexuals?”

Talk about your loaded question.

Standing there, frozen, I felt completely unprepared to engage such a hot topic. I kept thinking of Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza saying over and over again, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” It was unnerving. I did not know what to say.

Eventually emerging from my petrified disposition, I responded by saying the only thing I could think of. “Our church does not make an issue out of it. Our goal is to introduce ¬people to a relationship with God and then sort that out later.”

How cliché!

Why did his question seem to threaten me? Was it because I thought his worldview might jeopardize my faith and challenge my theology? What a missed opportunity! I had resorted to a quick answer, hoping to escape the discomfort of the dialogue. Behind his question was a story. I wish I had taken the time to ask him to tell me more, and to listen.

From that moment, I knew I had been sheltered. My desire to deflect the difficult issues of my culture had suppressed my ability to connect with others.

It is a dangerous risk to be in the world but not of it. It cost Jesus his life—and it may well cost us ours. Leading a movement means you have to embrace the hazards of humanity in ways that may jeopardize self-preservation.

By refusing to embrace this risk, however, we may risk a lot more. We may become unable to recognize the unmistakable reality of Christ manifesting himself within our communities. This was the case with the Gnostics, who were the subject of John’s letters to the church. Gnosticism believed that God was far too pure to have anything to do with the material universe, which was considered evil. Since Gnosticism taught that all matter is evil, it denied the incarnation of God’s Son. Hence John’s statement: “This is how you can recognize the Spirit of God: Every spirit that acknowledges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, but every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus is not from God” (1 John 4:2–3).

Gnostics did not acknowledge or identify the revelation of God through Christ within their own culture. In a similar fashion, our presupposition that culture is evil may keep us from recognizing the presence of God in our culture.

Efforts to reach culture from a distance often adopt an attractional strategy rather than an incarnational strategy. An attractional strategy assumes that we know the questions ¬people are asking, and so it seeks to provide answers to these questions. An incarnational strategy does not assume it automatically knows what questions ¬people are asking; instead, it discovers the questions by engaging culture and seeks to answer these questions in ways to which the culture can relate.

It is possible that we may actually think our style of worship, casual dress, new technology, and informal sermons make us relevant to culture. This is the sad illusion that so many churches live and die by. I believe that relevance happens when the ultimate answer, Jesus Christ, is expressed through a church that intersects with the world he created.

Several years ago, I was invited to a party held in a city park. A young woman from our church, Shauna, had approached me one Sunday after church and said, “I’m hosting this party for all of my apartment building neighbors next week in the park, and I think it would be a great opportunity for you to meet some people in our community.”

The following Sunday, I arrived at the park around 5:00 p.m. I noticed a large gathering underneath one of the large shelters. As I approached the crowd, I quickly noticed that this was a hodgepodge of interesting individuals. I am an extrovert by nature—but this anomalous assortment of characters had my ¬people skills working overtime. I made a few polite introductions and blended in with the pack.

Shauna found me. “Would you open in prayer and bless the food?” she asked with eagerness.

“You bet,” I said with artificial enthusiasm.

In the short time I had been there, I’d already had a ¬conversation with a Muslim woman. I was certain this crowd represented a melting pot of religious expression. By asking me to pray, Shauna was either calling me out or throwing me under the bus. A big part of me did not want to pray and reveal my secret identity of a pastor. (Besides, there was no phone booth nearby to change in.) Once ¬people discover that you’re a pastor, it has a tendency to repel the authenticity from conversation.

Reluctantly, I prayed a short prayer.

Immediately afterward, I felt a tap on my shoulder. As I turned around I observed a tall, middle-aged man towering over me. He introduced himself as Jim.

“You’re a pastor?”

“Yes.”

He was nervous. “Can I talk to you about something?” he whispered. I noticed the anxious tone in his voice.

“I’ve visited a lot of churches over the past few years, but I haven’t been able to find one that would accept me.”

“I am sorry to hear that. What made it hard for you to connect?”

“I am a hermaphrodite. I was born with both male and female genitalia.” Jim went on to make his point by showing his driver’s license, which declared him as “male/female.”

He amplified on his dilemma. “My whole life I’ve struggled to fit in, especially at church. I’ve gone back and forth, taking hormone supplements, struggling to resolve who I am.”

I could only imagine the unrest of his soul.

Then Jim revealed the issue that plagued him at his very core. “I don’t think God accepts me because of what I am.”

Jim’s perception of God was shaped by the shame and the rejection he felt at church. Putting my hand on Jim’s shoulder to convey acceptance, I said, “Jim, not only does God love you, but he understands every hurt and thought of rejection you’ve experienced.”

Immediately there was a change in Jim’s demeanor from dishonor to increased dignity. I never saw Jim again, but my last impression of him was something that I entrusted God to take into eternity. I knew I would take it into mine.

How often do we form our views and our strategies for reaching culture within a vacuum? When we live in a vacuum, we make assumptions about what the people in our community think, feel, question, and hurt about—rather than simply engaging with people.

Our concern should not be to make God relevant. He is and always will be. Our concern is to connect the relevance of God to the culture we live in without making assumptions. This is called “contextualizing the gospel.” If we hope to reach the culture, we need a contextualized approach that understands and uses the languages and concepts of those we are engaging.

Pastor and author Tim Keller articulates this tension in an essay titled “Ministry in the New Global Culture of Major City Centers.” He writes, “To reach a new culture, the gospel must enter, challenge, and re-tell the story of the new culture.”

While teaching a class at Multnomah Bible College called “Worldviews,” I required every student to undertake a semester-long cultural immersion project called “ethnography”—the study of human culture. This project involved participating in people’s lives for an extended period of time, watching what happens, listening to what is said, and asking questions. It forces us to change our posture toward those in culture and make the effort to understand their hearts, struggles, questions, and fears. It means putting down the picket signs, getting off our soapboxes, and crossing the barriers of our own pride. Instead of raising banners declaring God’s anger toward gays, why not use the five dollars’ worth of paint and cardboard to listen to someone’s story over a cup of coffee? This is incarnational living.

Incarnational living is about downward mobility. To live in the shadow of the cross is to embark in the challenge of continual descent. Along the journey, we’re invited to embrace a life of selflessness—of living for the sake of others. The incarnation of Jesus Christ was more than heaven living on earth. During his life, Jesus continued the descent from heaven to earth, from earth to the margins, and from the margins to the cross.

Incarnational living promotes a spirituality that takes on a persona of being lowered so that others may be lifted. Living incarnationally is about more than where we buy our groceries or sip our lattes. It’s the life we model where we buy our groceries and sip our lattes. It demands a willingness to make a continual effort to understand the marginalized and deprived. It values association with the “least of these” (Matthew 25:40) over personal advancement.

I think of a young single mom who approached me after church one day. She was accompanied by a somewhat disheveled man. My hand grasped his as she introduced us. He was a homeless man whom she had befriended during one of her weekly visits to the street community. Frequently she gathers clothes, food, blankets, and water and commutes to a nearby area populated by homeless dwellers. But she doesn’t run a ministry organization. What’s even more amazing is that she’s a single mom with serious and painful health issues. But this is her way of living incarnationally—of lowering herself so others may be lifted up.


Cultural Hubs
The infrastructure of every community is made up of several components: commerce, the arts, technology, entertainment, education, government, benevolence, and recreation. These components operate simultaneously as they synchronize within the daily lives of the people. Each has its own channels of influence that drive persuasion within society. Being a cultural architect, or one who harmonizes the strategy to fit his or her culture, is to dissect these hubs with a goal of finding entry points. It’s amazing to think of how much influence a church can have in its community simply by engaging with these entry points.

As I began the process of dissecting the cultural hubs present within the community at Grace Chapel, it became clear that our local public schools were a significant nucleus of relational influence. I decided to make a cold call to each of the four public school principals in our area. My first call was to a middle school principal named Barb.

I introduced myself as a pastor at Grace Chapel.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I was hoping I could meet with you to discuss a service project that our church would like to do for your campus.”

“Sure. I have an opening next week.”

One after the other, each area principal agreed to meet. Sitting in their offices reminded me of those childhood feelings of anxiety caused by my frequent visits to the principal’s office. I shared my church’s desire to start something called the “All-City Cleanup.” We wanted to show up at their schools on a Saturday morning to help renew their campuses. I asked each principal to share his or her list of projects that had been neglected and needed immediate attention. This one question gave me the opportunity to spend quality time with them surveying their campuses.

At Grace Chapel, we want all of our small groups to be missional communities. We cast the vision to see what kind of impact we could have if all of our groups rallied together for a single project.

The plan was to have all of the groups arrive at the high school at noon on Saturday. Living in Portland pretty much guarantees lousy weather, especially in April. That morning, I drove to the school as raindrops assaulted the windshield of my truck. Convinced that the torrential buckets of rain would bring this event to an untimely end, I pleaded for God to turn the water off. Not only did he not stop the rain; by the time everyone arrived, he decided to show off by making it rain sideways (that’s wind plus rain). To my complete and bewildered amazement, hundreds of ¬people began showing up, and for three hours everyone labored while getting drenched by the miserable weather.

Spirits were high, and, despite the weather, we experienced a powerful bonding. People remarked that it was a highlight for them and their families to be part of a church that ventured outside its own walls. In the end, our efforts left the schools transformed and immaculate.

A few months had passed when Andy, the principal of the high school, called. “Mike, I’m just calling to say thanks for all that your church did to renovate our campus.”

“It was a great day for us,” I said. “Thanks for letting us do it.”

“There is something else I want to ask you,” he said. “We have a school board meeting coming up, and we would like to present your church with a certificate of appreciation. Would you be there to receive it?”

Completely overwhelmed by surprise, I said, “Absolutely.”

“And there is something else,” he continued. “Would you be able to take a few minutes to speak to the board and the audience about why your church did this project?”

I agreed, but I nearly fell out of my chair. This was crazy! We live in one of the most liberal, unchurched states in the country—and the public school board wanted me to speak about what motivates our church.

I liked Andy, and I was pretty sure he was not a believer. As he made his opening statements to the school board, Andy reflected on what impacted him the most: “Seeing hundreds of volunteers show up in such horrible weather demonstrated to me their heart to reach out to our schools. We are very grateful to have a church like this in our community.”

That moment will forever be captured in my mind.

This platform became an opportunity to have influence within the school district. The following year, we decided to build on that platform, now that trust had been established. Once more we offered to provide volunteers for a similar project. This time, word spread through the school’s natural hubs of influence, affirming our role in the community. PTA meetings, faculty meetings, newsletters, local newspapers, and school marquees displayed their appreciation for what we were doing. The influence they carried in their own relational networks multiplied, carrying the message more effectively than anything we could have done by ourselves.

This was only the beginning of our efforts to tap into our community’s relational framework. Another hub of influence we’ve partnered with is our local community center. Over the past year, our children’s community director, Angie Rettman, sensed that there needed to be another evolution of outreach to her ministry. Instead of putting the resources and volunteer efforts into another successful Vacation Bible School, she decided to take VBS off the table and replace it with something more effective at engaging the community. She met with Brian, who oversees the youth programs at the local community center, to ask about and listen to his needs. Brian was thoroughly impressed by her gesture of concern and care for the program’s needs.

Brian went on to explain that every summer they organize an “Art in the Park” weekly program, designed to help families experience togetherness and relational well-being. The program has been such a success that the turnout has left the community center overwhelmed, unstaffed, and no longer capable of managing it. As Brian explained to Angie the need for someone to help take ownership of “Art in the Park,” it was no surprise that he was impressed by her sincerity. (It’s exactly what Angie had hoped would happen.) Now, in partnership with the community center, our church will transfer our VBS resources and volunteer efforts into helping to lead our community’s “Art in the Park” program.

You might think a significant amount of people would have been upset that we weren’t offering VBS that year. On the contrary, the decision was remarkably affirmed. As I sat in Angie’s office that week, celebrating her new direction in partnering with one of our cultural hubs, we recognized that this particular “Art in the Park” event was literally taking place in our local parks. Again it affirmed our metaphor of the “park” environment.

Another hub of influence we’ve connected to is our local Chamber of Commerce. Every city has one. Last Christmas, a woman in our church approached me with an idea.

Anne is the manager of a local bank. She is also the point person for organizing an annual Christmas fund-raising banquet on behalf of the Chamber of Commerce. Being a huge fan of the videos we produce at our church, she proposed an idea. “This year’s theme for the Chamber is ‘capturing the spirit of Christmas,’ ” she explained. “Would Grace Chapel consider producing a video to be featured at the event?”

I was intrigued. “Sounds good. What would it look like?”

With an energized look in her eyes, she answered, “We want to do interviews with several business owners sharing their thoughts on the spirit of Christmas.”

Our video producer and I traveled throughout the city, visiting business owners and filming their candid reflections. The interviews gave us access to several influential members of our community. The following week, we were invited to attend the fund-raising banquet as special guests. The room was overflowing with hundreds of people. The video was well received, and as the program came to a close, frequent gestures of appreciation were expressed. Word spread throughout the business community, further expanding our platform as their natural hub of influence increased ours.

Our churches are filled with people like Anne—people who serve in these hubs of influence. I also think of Scott and Brad, who are good friends who attend our church. Both hold key positions of influence within our city’s political infrastructure. Some of my favorite conversations have featured brainstorming about how to leverage their influence in partnership with our church to make a significant impact on our community.

Leaders can and should leverage the influence of the people in our churches. People thrive on the opportunity to help the church have influence within its part of the cultural framework. Instead of being preoccupied with ourselves, the shared values within these cultural hubs provide access for us to have common ground. It’s what brings us to the table together.

At Grace Chapel, we are just beginning to see the potential of these strategic partnerships between those sitting in the chairs of our church and the networks they belong to.

One afternoon, as I was walking down the sidewalk, a woman emerged from her house.

“You’re a pastor at that church that does all those things in the community, right?” she asked.

I answered cautiously, “Yes.”

“I just want you to know how much we value having you as a part of our community.”

It is responses such as this one that provide the payoff to the investment and a reminder of what God is doing through our “park” environment.

LifeChurch.tv, where Bobby Gruenewald serves in ministry, understands that technology is a key aspect of culture and represents yet another substantial hub of influence. Recently, LifeChurch.tv launched YouVersion, an online virtual community centered on Scripture. YouVersion has become one of the top fifty apps for the iPhone, with 225,000 people downloading it in the first month alone.

When I asked Bobby how he was able to be an influence within the technological hub, he said, “We try to be intentional about engaging in the spheres of influence. That means everything from advising start-up businesses to sitting on boards to attending technology conferences. We participate in discussions where the church is a completely foreign concept in those discussions, in fact, sometimes even is held in contempt. But for me, that’s a place where we can be part of the discussion and gain understanding about what new things are out there that we can embrace or be a part of developing that can impact the world.”

Throughout this journey, I’ve come to understand that three things are critical to establishing relationships within the natural hubs of influence. I call them the “3Cs” of connecting with culture: contact, consistency, and connection. Contact represents the initial stage and hints at the importance of being intentional about associating with others. Once the initial contact has been made—perhaps through a service project or partnership—it is essential to demonstrate consistency. Consistency builds trust and opens dialogue for deeper relationships. The result of consistent contact is relational connection, which leads to increased platforms for greater influence within our cultural networks.

The goal for these 3Cs is the experience of that unique and powerful redemptive process of seeing a life changed through the revealing of Christ in someone’s life. Our “park” environment includes any service project, community event, strategic partnership, or small group outreach that accomplishes the evolution of the 3Cs.

Concealed within the church is the beautiful bride of Christ. The bride stands before all to be deemed as either a presentation of splendor or a spectacle of self-indulgence. I believe that the unblemished veil is lifted in full disclosure as we seek the opportunity to live our faith courageously in the real-life arenas that revolve around us every day. And maybe, there to be discovered, is another hermaphrodite waiting for you to affirm their seat at the table.

Mike Tatlock is the lead pastor at Grace Chapel in Wilsonville, Ore., and he has been one of the youngest teaching professors at Prairie Hill Bible College and Multnomah Bible college.

Taken from Faith in Real Life by Mike Tatlock. Copyright © 2010. Used by permission of Zondervan. Zondervan.com.

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