The difficulty some of us have remembering others’ names is explained, at least in part, by the fact that when being introduced to someone new, the name we are listening for is our own.
That kind of listening was going on at Cape Town 2010—not so much in introductions as in looking for a face, a voice, a video, a message in which we would hear our name. When that happened, we felt valued and included. When it didn’t (as for the lone Native American representative) or not often enough or as often as others (as for nearly everyone else), there were rumblings in the camp.
Writer Margaret Feinberg reflected last week on those rumblings. “Lausanne offered a microcosm of the macro-challenges faced by the church around the world. Throughout the week, almost everyone I encountered felt marginalized in one way or another …. Though I shared some of the frustrations … I finally realized: We all feel marginalized in some way. That’s the human condition. Extend grace. Move on.”
In fairness to the Lausanne committee, most of the 4,500 delegates were attending their first congress. So we had no way of comparing Lausanne 2010 with 1974, or of gauging the progress this Congress made in increasing diversity within our ranks. From what I have heard, the changes were monumental, but more are needed.
I also agree with Margaret, that we need to move on to the deeper topics touched on all week. Woven throughout the Congress were gut-wrenching stories from delegates of human trafficking, brutal atrocities, and unspeakable injustices. They were stark reminders of our mission’s urgency. Remarkably, many stories led to forgiveness and reconciliation—breathtaking examples of the gospel’s transforming power. They gave me a whole new definition of what it means to be a follower of Jesus in this broken world.
But, to be honest, some of the rumblings get right to the heart of what Lausanne is all about, and are symptomatic of why we need Lausanne.
Consider, for example, the polarized rumblings regarding women I heard throughout the Congress, largely from within the U.S. contingency. One person objected that break-out sessions on women in ministry “presented the egalitarian position as though there was no other view.” After browsing in the bookstore, someone else complained, “Only complementarian books are for sale.” On consecutive days in the general sessions, Ruth Padilla DeBorst and John Piper exposited Ephesians—the former unsettling those who believe women should not teach men the Scriptures, the latter known as widely as a staunch complementarian as a Reformed preacher. A complementarian pastor told me with absolute certainty, “Lausanne is egalitarian.” Other delegates I met would take issue with that statement.
The unavoidable fact—whether here in the U.S. or in Cape Town—is that we don’t all agree. Christian leaders we love and respect are studying Scripture and pointing us in opposite directions. Yet all week long, as we collectively poured over Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, words like reconciliation, unity, and oneness hovered over us as God’s vision for his people.
Which is what makes Lausanne both a bold experiment and a strategic opportunity, for this gathering of believers reflects the body of Christ worldwide in that we evangelicals don’t fit neatly into a single theological camp, denomination, culture, or ethnic group. Nor will we ever.
Lausanne opens the door for us to engage a new conversation about men and women in mutual respect despite our differences. Cape Town 2010 overwhelmed us with the staggering scope of our global mission. Every delegate signed the Lausanne Covenant, which calls for the active deployment of all the gifts of the body of Christ—male and female, young and old.
When God created the world, the team he assembled to build his kingdom was male and female. Occasionally, even the secular world recognizes God’s wisdom here. After the 2008 economic crisis, financial experts wondered if we’d be in the same mess if Lehman Brothers had been Lehman Brothers and Sisters.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2QqPJHVbfc
The collapse of God’s A-Team was a coup for the Enemy and a setback for God’s kingdom. Jesus died to restore our oneness in his body. Don’t we owe Jesus a healthy body?
I’m as weary of the women-in-church debate as anyone. And it is not simply an academic one. It has real implications for real lives globally. I will not forget the hopelessness I saw in the faces of women and girls in South African townships. Does our gospel message for women resoundingly contradict other value statements coming to women and girls globally? Do our interactions as Christians send the world a radically different message of how men and women who follow Jesus value and love one another?
The U.S. delegation reassembles in Dallas this April to continue the conversations begun in Cape Town. As we move forward, I hope we will unite despite our differences to focus on making the body of Christ healthy and strong. I also hope the names heard most among us will belong to countless women and girls who have been swept away by a tsunami of abuse and who need to experience the rescuing Good News of the whole gospel.
Carolyn Custis James is president of WhitbyForum and the Synergy Women’s Network. She is the author of several books, including the forthcoming Half the Church: Recapturing God’s Global Vision for Women.
The list spans almost a century, from 1912’s From the Manger to the Cross to 2004’s The Passion of the Christ. There are a few differences between theirs list and our Top 10 Jesus Movies, most notably their inclusion of the blasphemous Last Temptation of Christ and the somewhat irreverent Jesus Christ Superstar.
Of course, our list–compiled by our own Peter Chattaway–is better!
