The Pattern

Excerpts from Scott McClellan article: The Problem with The Pattern | Catalyst article

On the new sci-fi TV series Fringe, "The Pattern" is the secret government code name for a series of connected but unexplained creepy bio-terror events. People get turned into puddles of goo or are infected by parasites the size of house pets. Clearly, "The Pattern" is a very dangerous thing. In Romans 12, the apostle Paul mentions a different but equally dangerous kind of pattern—the pattern of this world. To the Church in Rome he writes: "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

As a good, wholesome kid brought up in a good, wholesome youth group, it was suggested to me that the pattern Paul was telling us to avoid was comprised of secular music, alcohol, sex, drugs, and eternal damnation. But I'm beginning to think he had something bigger in mind. To me, Paul's words mandate a foundational distinctiveness in Christian thought that goes much deeper than the music on our iPods. I like what D.A. Carson said about the pattern of this world in a recent editorial:

"Thinking differently from the ‘world' has been part of the Christian's responsibility and agenda from the beginning ... The assumption seems to be that the world has its own patterns, its own structured arguments, its own value systems. Because we Christians live in the world, the ‘default' reality is that we are likely to be shaped by these patterns, structures, and values, unless we consciously discern how and where they stand over against the gospel and all its entailments, and adopt radically different thinking."

The challenge Carson presents—evaluating the patterns, structures, and values of our world on the way to developing a renewed way of thinking—is paramount. In a society that is (or will soon be) post-Christian, I believe it's important that we don't sacrifice our sacred identity as the collective followers of Christ in a desperate and/or zealous bid for influence. However, it often feels as though that's exactly what we're doing when we embrace, rather than spurn, our world's patterns.

In his magnificent book, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (1989, The Crossroad Publishing Company), priest and author Henri Nouwen draws a fascinating parallel between the temptations of Christ in the desert and the temptations of the Christian leader in the 21st century.

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In each of the three temptations of Christ, we find an opportunity to be conformed to the pattern of this world or be transformed by the renewing of our minds. If you're running a business, by all means follow the pattern. Learn everything you can from Walmart, Netflix, Apple, Southwest Airlines, Google, and Amazon. But for church leaders, it's time we accept that we're not running a business. The pattern isn't good enough for us.

We know from the Book of Acts that the early Church was distinct from the other cultural institutions of its day. Its faith, love, and practices were unique, strange, and somewhat mysterious to the first-century world, and yet it flourished. The early Church was the exact opposite of the Roman Empire, and yet it flourished. Christianity wasn't popular, it was persecuted, and yet it flourished. The early Church had no power (apart from the Holy Spirit), no tactics (unless you count prayer, the breaking of bread, and devotion to the apostles' teaching), no secular model for success (even the Empire was limited by its own borders), and no cool factor (suffering and outsider-status are decidedly uncool) ... and yet it flourished. In Acts 2, Luke notes that the Lord was adding to the numbers of early Christians daily. It seems fitting that in the absence of the pattern and its relevance, popularity, and power, God gets the credit for the growth of the early Church.

For the Church, the holy, radiant bride and body of Christ, the ends don't justify means. We can't allow ourselves to become worldly in hopes of saving the world, in the same way that Jesus didn't become Caesar in hopes of saving the Roman Empire. In fact, while Caesar marketed himself as the Son of God, the actual Son of God humbled himself, made himself nothing, put on human flesh, and was obedient to death—even death on a cross. If we are genuinely followers of Christ, let's forget the pattern and follow him.