If you're not familiar with Mars Hill, it was a church planted by Mark Driscoll (and others) in Seattle in the mid-1990's. At the time, it was a bold move on the part of the church planters. Seattle is known to be one of the least religious cities in the United States and most people agreed at the time that a conservative church plant would never succeed. But they were wrong. Mars Hill did succeed. Not only did it stick, but it actually flourished.
But this post isn't about Mars Hill. There are hundreds of blogs about that if you're interested. It's not a post about Mark Driscoll. I don't know him. It's a post about my experience of listening to the podcast. As I reluctantly hit play on the first episode, I really wasn't expecting to get into the story as quickly as I did. As I listened, I did get into it. There was just something about the story telling that intrigued me. By the time I got through the second episode I realized what the intrigue was. I felt as thought the Holy Spirit was holding a mirror in front of me. He was convicting me to examine my own pastoral leadership through the lens of what happened with Driscoll and Mars Hill.
Throughout Driscoll's tenure at Mars Hill, he manipulated the system to his benefit. He refused to be held accountable by anyone. If someone disagreed with him, he would angrily dismiss the person. In fact he famously stated, "There is a pile of dead bodies behind the Mars Hill bus, and by God's grace, it'll be a mountain by the time we're done." Instead of lamenting about the carnage he was causing, Driscoll celebrated it.
As the Spirit of God held the mirror up in front of me episode after episode I reflected back on my years in pastoral leadership. How many people had I run over with a bus? Was there a pile of bodies in my wake? How often have I used the system to benefit me? These questions, and hundreds like them, continued to swirl through my mind. With a repentant spirit, I listened. Many times I dreaded the story that the next episode would reveal. I was sorry partly for the Mars Hill people it happened to. But I was also sorry for the things I had said and done in my own past that caused pain in people.
When I finished the podcast this week, two important things have remained with me. First, is a question that's asked at the end. "What gospel was Mars Hill preaching?" I can't answer that question. But I can explore the question of "What gospel do I preach?" My hope is that I consistently preach the good news of Jesus Christ. But what I preach and what people hear me preach could very well be two different gospels. So I'm being more intentional in my sermon preparation. I'm intentionally seeking to balance righteousness with mercy and grace with justice built on the foundation of love. If I fail to do that then I've failed to preach the gospel of Jesus.
Secondly, this podcast opened a wound within me that I've desperately tried to let scar over. That scar is a result of the pending split of The United Methodist Church. The opening theme of the podcast is a song written and performed by Kings Kaleidoscope, a band formed at Mars Hill. The song's title is "Sticks and Stones." Here are the lyrics:
Did I pledge my allegiance
For the purpose of progress
To a priest or a prophet
Playing god in the process?
Was I chasing convenience
In a wave of disaster
Where the captain's a captor
And I'm a puppet to pastor?
A worthless war
A curtain torn
To take control of this ship
A nail of shame
A broken vein
To write redemption a script
A truth-less gun
A dying Son
To turn the tables we flipped
Turn the tables we flipped
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Nah nah nah, nah
They don't get it, I don't get it
We're committed to sticks and stones
What's a vision if it's driven to imprison?
I don't know
They don't get it, I don't get it
We're committed to sticks and stones
Undecided, but I'm trying still divided
So it goes
A worthless war
A curtain torn
To take control of this ship
A nail of shame
A broken vein
To write redemption a script
A truth-less gun
A dying Son
To turn the tables we flipped
Turn the tables we flipped
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Paint the beauty we split
Turn the tables we flipped (Nah nah nah, nah)
Paint the beauty we split
Take control of this ship
Paint the beauty we split
Write redemption a script
Paint the beauty we split
Turn the tables we flipped
Paint the beauty we split
Nah nah nah, nah
Show me a man, an honest mission
I'm willing to hope beyond suspicion
Show me the race, I'll run the distance
Longing to give and taste forgiveness
Dying to live a pure religion
Settle the rush to chase submission
Open my eyes and soul to listen
This song was originally written as the band processed their part of the Mars Hill story. But it is much larger than that. When I hear it, I hear the story of The United Methodist Church. Both sides of our church have pledged their allegiance to the purpose of progress to a priest or a prophet. We have allowed ourselves to be puppets to whichever leader is in control of our faction of the church. We have been committed to sticks and stones. We have flipped the tables and in the process we have piled up the bodies behind the United Methodist bus.
After I finished listening to the final podcast, I immediately listened to this song. I wept. When I allow myself to think about it, I weep again. I'm tired of the posturing. I'm tired of the table flipping. I'm tired of the split. So where do I go from here? I don't know. I'm disenfranchised from both sides of my church. There is no place for me or my voice in the post-split church. For now, I wait. The hope I have is that Jesus will paint the beauty we split. Somewhere in that painted beauty maybe I'll find my way.
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