Brian McLaren is one of the most influential, recognizable figures connected to the Emerging Church movement, a.k.a the emerging conversation. Specifically, Brian is involved with Emergent- one branch of the Emerging conversation that is helping to network people around the world in "a growing generative friendship among missional Christian leaders seeking to love our world in the Spirit of Jesus Christ".

Precipice Magazine recently had the opportunity to speak with Brian both about his new book the Secret Message of Jesus: Uncovering the Truth that Could Change Everything (click this link to buy the book) as well as to discuss issues pertinent to those of us involved within "the conversation".


Darren King: Hi Brian. First of all I want to thank you for taking the time to answer a few questions. Let me say that not only has your writing been a personal inspiration to me but so too has your demeanor and your gentle response to critics. I'm thankful for the way you have so faithfully modeled "speaking the truth in love" in such circumstances.

I often hear/read interviews where you're being interviewed by secular journalists. For this interview I have deliberately crafted some questons that I think are important for those of us within "the conversation". In other words, I'm not going to ask you to define postmodernism or Emergent for the one millionth time! Maybe that's a welcome change for you. Anyway, here goes:

In "the Secret Message of Jesus" you make note of promising new developments in the understanding of New Testament eschatology developed by people such as N.T. Wright and Andrew Perriman. I'm wondering if you could share some of your thoughts about the possible implications for a church's sense of vision/mission if these new ideas were to take hold?

Brian McLaren: I think that many of us from Evangelical backgrounds grew up with a sense of hopelessness about human history. We were taught to expect the return of Christ very soon, which entailed the destruction of the earth as we know it, with some new beginning on the other side, a new beginning characterized by radical discontinuity with this history. To care about earth's long-range future, then, became an act of unfaithfulness to God and the Bible. To invest in the earth's long-term survival seemed like a "humanist" thing to do. Thankfully, some Christians found ways to counteract this attitude of abandonment toward the earth and its history even within the "left behind" interpretive framework, but others of us still weren't satisfied.

By getting a fresh look at what Jesus meant by the kingdom of God - not an escape from this world, but the inbreaking of God's will into this world, not the abandonment of earth, but a radical, self-sacrificing commitment to it - we find ourselves being able to gratify desires - Spirit-inspired desires, I believe - to care about God's creation and its future.

Along with a fresh look at the kingdom, a number of people (from a variety of camps, many of which wouldn't agree with each other on many points) are realizing that many of the so-called apocalyptic passages in the gospels and the New Testament as a whole seem to find fulfillment in three related realities: a) the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 67-70, which included the end of the Temple and priestly sacrificial systems, and the continuity of a multi-cultural, Spirit-filled, globally-concerned community of faith. Andrew Perriman finds fascinating connections to the phrase "Son of Man" from Daniel. Taken together, these insights suggest that the New Testament writers looked forward to something that we can look back on ... which, I think, motivates us to get on with the work of mission in a full and integrated sense, so that evangelism and social justice and ecology and the creation of good art and serving the poor and forgotten are deeply integrated facets of our mission. This, for me, adds sacredness and purpose to all of life, and further breaks down the old sacred-secular dualism.

All of this helps us reconnect to a more healthy and robust theology of creation too. Since it doesn't anticipate God discarding creation like a candy-wrapper, it gives us permission to love and cherish God's world - all facets of it - forests, economies, wild animals, weather, history, art, language, architecture, and soil.

Darren King: I often read and hear various interviewers asking you about the perils of modern expressions of Church in an increasingly postmodern culture. I'm curious though about what your thoughts might be for those of us within the fold of the Emerging conversation. What do you see as the greatest threats to the growth and health of "the conversation"?

Brian McLaren: That's a great question, Darren. First, of course, is the harsh criticism many of us are receiving. It will take real Spirit-empowered wisdom and virtue to respond wisely. All criticism calls us to prayerful self-examination. Unfair criticism additionally presents us with real temptations as we respond - temptations which are also opportunities to grow in Christ-likeness.

Will we respond it kind, returning insult for insult? Will we violate the teachings of our Lord by launching counterattacks? Will we become discouraged or disgusted and just walk away from the whole thing? Will we be psychologically or emotionally or spiritually damaged? Will we become afraid and lose our confidence and courage, and trim our sails to avoid more attacks in the future? Will we become defensive and tense? Will we become hardened and unwilling to receive legitimate criticism because of the volume of unfair criticism? Will we let the critics set the agenda by feeling obligated to try to legitimize ourselves to them? Will we become preoccupied with matters that simply aren't that important, what Paul calls "foolish quarrels"? Those are all temptations we face in this situation, and those aren't easy temptations. But they are great opportunities to go deeper into Christ and to practice his way of dealing with these sorts of things.

There are a number of other specific issues I've been thinking about, and I'll be sharing them in an upcoming emergent/c piece- which people can sign up for at emergentvillage.com.

Darren King: At various points people have half humorously and half seriously suggested that the average profile of an "Emerging Church enthusiast" is that of a single, Caucasian, left-leaning, media-savvy male. To what extent do you think this is valid?

Brian McLaren: I wouldn't say that matches my experience. As for single - I see a lot of married folk as well. As for media-savvy, I guess most of us are computer literate, but that's not unusual these days. As for male, I think we're all grateful to see so many women leaders involved - more than I generally see in other religious settings. As for left-leaning - because a few of us have been outspoken about the Religious Right, some may have lept to an erroneous conclusion - that "the emerging church" - a term I don't like at all - is a bunch of lefties. People who like to divide the world into those categories, and who themselves identify with the "right," may feel that anybody who isn't like them is "left," but really, many of us think that whole binary way of thinking is terribly problematic. It's one of the things we've got to get beyond. My guess is that people in this conversation would have a similar political make-up to the country, red and blue and green and so on ... but what they'd have in common is this dissatisfaction with the divisive, binary, polarizing tone of so many debates. As for Caucasian, our country is majority Caucasian, but I think you'd find in the emergent conversation increasing numbers of people of color, and among the caucasians, you'd find a high level of commitment to strengthening racial diversity.

Darren King: What can we do to help broaden this emerging demographic?

Brian McLaren: I think the biggest thing is for individuals to build relationships. White pastors need to reach out to Latina pastors, or Native American pastors, or African American pastors, or Asian pastors. If leaders build the relationships, I think they set an example for their congregations. Of course, it works the other way too - there can be grass-roots movements of neighborliness that can have a far-reaching effect.

I think it's good to remember that different religious communities - whether we're talking about denominations or ethnic groupings - are at different places. Some may not need the emergent conversation as much as others, at least not right now. Some might be less ready for it. So I don't think anybody should be pressured to be involved, but those involved should always be hospitable and welcome others in who are interested - and their contributions should be welcomed.

I've been so impressed with Tony Jones' leadership in this regard. He's reaching out and including all kinds of people - young, old, various races and denominations. I'm also thrilled about the emerging global network - The gathering next year in Uganda will be a major step forward for this global dimension. And some other exciting gatherings are in the planning stages, which will be opportunities to further broaden the conversation and community, demographically and in other ways.

Darren King: Being someone so involved with the "on the ground" development of the Emerging conversation, I'm wondering what your sense is about the growth of new "conversation-conversant" churches. We're all aware that the conversation is a "hot topic" for bloggers and such, but to what degree do you see this stuff working itself out in the expression of new local communities of faith?

Brian McLaren: This is a perceptive question because I believe that if these things aren't worked out in the context of local churches, they don't have much of a future. I think there are lots of new communities starting up, but there need to be more, and there needs to be more help - mentoring, financial help, practical support - for leaders of new faith communities. It's not easy starting something new under any circumstances, and add the complexities of trying to do something innovative in a contentious and sometimes polarized religious environment, and you have a real challenge on your hands. On the positive side, in my travels, I see many encouraging signs around the world - from a small urban community in Aukland, NZ, to a vibrant megachurch in South Africa, to a new fellowship of artists in New York. But on the other hand, I hear from so many people who feel they don't fit in with existing churches, and they ask for a contact in their city, and I don't know where to send them.

Darren King: You are very open about your own journey in Jesus. Clearly, considering you've been pastoring for so long, much of that journey has taken place while you've been serving as a leader in a church. Could you share a little bit about your own experience with Cedar Ridge during those times where your theology was really shifting? Were people in your church understanding? Freaked out? A little bit of both?

Brian McLaren: A lot of people didn't know what I was going through. I was always aware that people showed up week after week and they needed encouragement and Bible and inspiration and practical help to make it through another week - so I didn't burden them with my own internal struggles. Sometimes, of course, it came through unintentionally - and not always in especially helpful ways. I tried to process my internal struggles with friends I could trust - inside and outside the church, but hopefully not in the pulpit - and I've always sought out mentors near and far for guidance.

But as people in the church started seeing changes in my thinking, some of them didn't like it. It started with displeasure about the kinds of people I accepted and welcomed into the church - cussors, drinkers and smokers, the tattooed, political liberals, people with all kinds of sexual histories, doubters of all stripes. Things got worse when many of these people became Christians - but didn't immediately become "clean" enough. Through the years, a lot of people were terribly disappointed that I didn't speak in the religious idiom they were familiar with.

I remember one conversation that was especially poignant. A woman said, "I have never understood you. I know you know what you should say. I know you know the theological terms that I am hoping to hear. But you consistently avoid giving me reassurance that I want. So I've been really frustrated with you for a while. Then a couple months ago, I invited some of my unchurched neighbors to church. They love it. They love you. When I talk to them about God, their eyes glaze over. I'm speaking another language. But you talk to them and they get it. So, I guess you've decided that you'd rather have me be frustrated with you so you can communicate with people like my neighbors. It still frustrates me, but at least I'm beginning to see what you're doing." Of course, this lady still ended up leaving the church, but at least she realized that if I were to speak the language of her religious subculture, I couldn't help her neighbors. Thankfully, there are lots of churches that speak her language, so she had other places she could go. Her neighbors didn't. To me, this is a lot like Paul's dilemma - not wanting to alienate the Jewish believers, but not wanting to alienate the Gentile believers either. He had to make hard choices, and so do we.

Darren King: I have heard some people, who are loosely familiar with the emerging conversation, suggest that from their perspective the movement seems to be largely an intellectual one. To what extent do you think this is true and what would you suggest we practice as a guard against this all becoming a merely intellectual enterprise?

Brian McLaren: I think that many of us felt trapped by some of our narrow and rigid theological systems. It was like we were in a closed room and the air was bad and we were gasping for air. I think we used some intellectual tools to knock some holes in the walls so we could get some fresh air in. But in the end, of course, this thing is about a lot more than rethinking some rather esoteric things like naive realism or Cartesian rationalism or foundationalism or whatever.

New people to the conversation - especially those from more fundamentalist backgrounds - very often need to grapple with epistemology and other intellectual matters. They're gasping for air, and this is what they need. But eventually, if they get the help they need, they want to talk about spiritual formation, mission, seeking justice, character development, caring for the poor, planting new faith communities, the arts, and other very practical matters that involve the intellect but so much more.

For example, regarding practices, everywhere I go I find people experimenting with fixed-hour prayer. This seems to be a practice that is resonating with so many people. I think it's a very positive trend. I find people seeking to build community - not just in their churches, but also in their neighborhoods, another positive trend. I find people wanting to talk about economics - not just showing compassion for the poor, but also understanding how the economy works so they can help poor people become part of a just and sustainable economy. Then they start thinking about their own lifestyle, their buying and investing habits. So I thank God for the hard intellectual work that's going on, but I'm really glad it doesn't stop there.

Darren King: Some have suggested that if the Church goes smaller (in numbers per grouping) and more organic in structure and expression that this might threaten the existence of the paid pastor in future decades. As a pastor yourself, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on this?

Brian McLaren: This is a huge question that I plan to address a bit in the emergent/c piece I mentioned earlier. Let me say that I'm for vibrant faith communities in all forms - from micro churches and house churches and quantum and liquid churches, or whatever you want to call them - to the new monasticism work - to renewal and reinvention in the historic denominations, Catholic, Anglican, Methodist, and so on. I'm for cafe churches and megachurches and everything in between, including virtual churches. I think the worst thing we can do is get into an either-or argument. We need both-and.

So I think people who are pronouncing the death of the local congregation with a paid staff are overreacting. God knows, being a pastor is hard - it's the hardest job I've ever done by far - and it deserves a person's best effort, and responsible preparation, and it deserves a congregation's faithful financial support. But ... here's where the both/and comes in - I also believe that we need spontaneous neighborhood faith communities that will not be able to afford a paid pastor, nor will they need one. The problem will be to find ways to do this that don't destroy the unpaid pastor or her family. I was a bi-vocational church planter/pastor for many years, and I know that the cost on marriages and family life is often very high.

This is where the both/and comes in. What if well-funded megachurches decided to see some home-based faith communities as partners in ministry, so they could overlap and share resources and not see one another as enemies or even alternatives, but as two expressions of the same thing? That takes us in the direction I think we need to go, and will be good for the whole range of faith communities.

Darren King: It is no secret that you have your fair share of critics. I think many of us realize that your critics often misrepresent you and your beliefs. I'm wondering if you could offer some insight as to why and how this misrepresentation takes place? How can those of us within the conversation be on guard against doing the same thing to others?

Brian McLaren: It's great you ask that last question, because I'd be more sad to see those of us who share this connection to respond inappropriately than I would to see the unfair criticism increase. As I said earlier, this is a real temptation that I and many face right now. I hope people will pray for me, and for all of us. Even if we avoid being overtly defensive or aggressive, it's too easy to become passive aggressive or to let the jabs come out in some sideways fashion. Lord, have mercy.

I also think you're wise to ask why so much of the criticism is so inaccurate. It's good to try to understand the causes of things like this - and not just react. Let me do a brain dump of some of the reasons that come to mind, in no particular order. And it's important to say that I don't present these as diagnoses of any particular individual - just as general possibilities. And we're not talking about legitimate questions and dialogue, even vigorous debate: we're talking about the mean-spirited stuff that causes critics to make wild statements that even their friends would say are over the top.

1. Sometimes, I or others have not spoken charitably or wisely enough, and people have felt criticized or attacked, so they have responded with counterattack. In these cases, I am reaping bad fruit from sowing bad seed, and the pain of their unfairness can lead me to repent for any times I'm unfair.

2. Many religious communities feel under threat. Their numbers are declining. Their young people are leaving. Money is down. When any individual or organization feels threatened, it's easy to become testy, grouchy, or mean-spirited.

3. These stressed communities might love us if we offered the three easy steps to keeping their young people, or to bringing in lots of the unchurched. But when they listen to us, we tell them we don't think there are three easy steps. We tell them needed change will require deep rethinking and hard work and some pain. Some of them don't want to hear this, so there's probably a reaction to complexity and unwanted news that causes pain and creates a pained response.

4. Many of these folks, I think, have been trained unconsciously to work by fear. Fear (along with guilt) is a primary means of motivation in many religious communities - the fear of being rejected, corrected, looked down upon, or called "liberal" or some other epithet. It's weird to see "emergent" now become an epithet for these folks! When some of their young people - maybe their sons and daughters - are attracted to what we're doing, they understandably wish they would stay "in the fold," so to speak. So, they attack a few of us to make their flock be afraid of associating with us. It's a survival thing, I guess. In that case, the criticism is not even aimed at us: it's aimed at those in their fold who might leave or question things or work for change.

5. Many of the harshest critics come from fundamentalist religious traditions where hot and inaccurate rhetoric is acceptable whenever doctrinal matters are in play. That's just the way certain kinds of fundamentlists do business, and they have done so for centuries - Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, whatever. They've been trained in it, almost as a form of discipleship. They may even enjoy it, like an art form or sport. And they feel they are serving God when they do it, so it gets passed on from generation to generation. You can't blame people for this, since it's almost instinctual.

6. Some critics are playing to their constituency. They aren't trying to educate or correct us. After all, if they wanted to be heard, they're smart enough to know they should take more care to be accurate and charitable. But they're writing to show their strength and boldness and maybe their rhetorical cleverness to their community, proving themselves to others, or perhaps to themselves.

7. Some of them have never read or listened to us, but are reacting based on hearsay. So, they believe what they were told, and they're passing it on, since they trust the people who told them.

8. Some of it is just plain old sin, but sin of a particularly religious sort. Some famous person once said, "For bad people to do bad things, you just need an opportunity. For good people to do bad things, you need religion."

9. Some people are probably acting out of sociological or psychological scripts they don't even understand.

10. More significant than any of the previous possibilities though, there's some work in "systems-sensitive leadership" that I've found very helpful. The main book (of that title) is out of print and unavailable, but the idea is that people think and behave in the context of thinking systems. At certain levels - there are eight levels in the book I'm thinking of - people respond to perceived threat or disturbance with physical violence. At higher levels, the violence progresses to verbal, and eventually, of course, moves beyond violence altogether. Back in the Inquisition era, and even in the Reformation era, there was a lot of physical violence in response to doctrinal differences. So it's progress if the worst we get is some name-calling! And if we can respond with grace and good humor, perhaps we'll help our religious communities to move to some higher levels.

This is exactly what I think Jesus models for us. I've been thinking about this all week - since today (as I write) it's Easter night. Throughout the Gospels the Pharisees seem incapable of questioning their system, of even considering the possibility that Jesus is right. So they try to trap him and twist his words so he can be discredited. When he doesn't fall for their tricks, they get even more upset and finally they simply start to plot his death. Once they've decided to destroy him, it's not such a big deal to lie. So they bear false witness and twist or exaggerate his words so they can get him crucified. I notice that there are two things Jesus doesn't do. First, he doesn't counter-attack using their methods. And second, he doesn't roll over and play dead, or run away, or retreat in depression or fear or hurt feelings. He draws strength from his Father, and he stands firm and continues to tell the truth, trusting that God will vindicate the truth in the end.

I've drawn two lessons from this, this Holy Week. First, unlike the Pharisees, we need to always be open to the possibility that we are wrong. God might speak to us at any moment through anybody - including an unlettered Galilean who hangs out with sinners and tax collectors, and including the wildest and most unfair of our critics. And second, like Jesus, we must choose that third way ... not reacting or counterattacking, and not retreating either, but seeking God and drawing strength from God day by day.

Darren King: Speaking of this, I'm curious- have you ever experienced a former critic coming to you to confess that they either misunderstood or misrepresented you?

Brian McLaren: One fellow sent me a draft of an article he was going to write. He told me he wanted to be sure that he hadn't misrepresented me, even though he was very critical of my work. I responded by thanking him and telling him where I felt he had been unfair. He responded with thanks as well, and said that on further thought, he realized he had misunderstood me, and now he didn't want to write the article after all. I thought that was very honorable on his part.

A few other people have apologized for some over the top rhetoric. I take these as positive signs. Even if I'm 100% as wrong and bad as my worst critics think I am, it's not good for them to be mean-spirited or inaccurate or judgmental in the way they address my flaws. What good would it be to discredit someone who is truly wrong, but in the process to discredit yourself in the way you do so?

Darren King: So true. Okay that about does it for now. Thanks again Brian for taking the time to answer these questions. I really do appreciate it.

Brian McLaren: I enjoyed these questions, Darren. Did me good to think about them. Thanks. Keep up the good and needed work, brother!