As early as the fourth century A.D., Christians fasted during this season and ended their fasts with celebrations either of the arrival of the wise men or of the baptism of Jesus. For many Christians today, the most familiar sign of Advent is the lighting of candles—two purple candles, followed by a pink and then another purple—on each of the four Sundays leading up to Christmas.

Advent has fallen on hard times, though. In the Protestant and free-church traditions, the loss is understandable, though no less lamentable; Baptists in particular tend to be quite suspicious of anything with origins in ancient or medieval tradition. When I instituted Advent celebrations as a pastor in a Baptist church, I was asked more times than I care to recall, “Don’t Catholics do that?”—as if that automatically prohibited us from considering such a practice.

Yet, even in congregations that more consciously echo the ancient rhythms of the church’s life, the meaning of Advent seems in danger of being misplaced. By the closing week of November, any sense of waiting has been eclipsed by the crèche in the lobby, the tannenbaum in the hall, and the list of Christmas parties in the church newsletter.

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It’s around this time each year that I find myself asking once again, “How exactly was it that I ended up a Kansas City Royals fan?” The last time the Royals were serious contenders for a pennant, Ronald Reagan was residing on Pennsylvania Avenue, the Berlin Wall was still intact, and grunge hadn’t yet made it past the Seattle city limits.

Goodness knows, I’ve tried to stop rooting for a losing team. During my years of earning graduate degrees, I stopped following baseball altogether. Upon my return, I realized that—though Kansas City had fared no better without me than with me—not even decades in the cellar of season-end standings had managed to dethrone the Royals from first place in my sporting allegiances.

I am clearly not the only person who persists in prioritizing a particular team even when that team never earns a place in the postseason. After all, someone, somewhere, purchases the kitsch and clothing that memorabilia manufacturers imprint with the logos of Indians and Mariners, Pirates and Cubs.

So why is it that human beings select certain teams and stick with them even when these franchises have no reasonable chance at a championship?

At least three patterns seem to drive this irrational rationality of persistent loyalty—and these patterns may help us to think a bit more carefully about how we try to grow our churches.

(1) Commonalities: They Come From a Place Where People Are More Like Me: I am a Midwesterner. Tea with more than a touch of sugar is a travesty to my taste buds, and seeing saltwater has always meant at least two days of travel. As a result, I’m pretty much incapable of cheering for a team from any state that seceded from the Union or from any city west of the Great Plains or east of the Great Lakes. I don’t think I’m alone in my affinity for teams from locations near past or present places of residence. With the fewest of exceptions, fans of the Braves have roots somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon Line, New Englanders aren’t rooting for the Mariners, and folks that hope the Indians do better next year don’t live near a coastline.

(2) Memories: The Power of Past Recollections: In a box in my basement, there are three white-and-blue shirts that I wore as a three-year-old, each one emblazoned with a face and faux signature. My Grandma Lu was the source of these t-shirts that are inked with the likenesses of George Brett, Hal McRae, and Frank White. Grandma Lu lived most of her life in Kansas City; my parents met one another in Kansas City; I earned my master’s degree in Kansas City; I remember games at Kauffman Stadium with my parents, my sister and her husband, my wife and oldest daughter. Despite a disappointing record from the Royals over the past two decades, ties to Kansas City are threaded through some of my deepest and most cherished memories. When I root for someone from Kansas City, I’m not merely hoping for a certain team to triumph; I am also remembering, and many of these memories are tinged with white and blue.

(3) Affinities: Random Preferences and Prejudices, Quibbles and Quirks: For certain fans,the designated-hitter rule is such a deal-breaker that they’re incapable of rooting for any American League franchise. Others select and reject teams because they’re excited or annoyed by particular players. For me, long-term rootedness in a particular place matters deeply, so a skip from one city to another permanently besmirches a team’s reputation. And, of course, everyone in his or her right mind recognizes that the Yankees have always been insufferably arrogant and deserve to be beaten at every possible turn. Such are the less-conscious quibbles and quirks by which we choose between teams that might otherwise have been equal in our allegiances.

In thinking through this, it has occurred to me that some of these patterns also explain what pulls many people to churches. According to a Gallup poll a few years ago, three of the top reasons why Americans attend church are a sense of fellowship, family traditions, and how the experience at church personally inspires them—reasons similar in many ways to the patterns of affinity, memory, and commonality that drive fans to persist in their faithfulness to particular teams.

Being tied to a church by memories might be a positive pattern, as long as family traditions don’t compete with the church’s commitment to the Great Commission. When it comes to using affinities and commonalities to attract people to church, however, I’m not so certain that these patterns are in any way positive. And yet, intentionally or not, this is how we aim people toward particular congregations at times: “Lots of children about the same age as your kids go there; you should try it.” “The music there is amazing!” “That campus might be a bit too traditional for your taste.” “You probably wouldn’t feel comfortable there anyway—that church is mostly college students.”

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Believers in Jesus Christ are, after all, people who live every moment of life in “the same old story” of God’s work in human history. It is through this story that God forms, transforms, and reforms every part of our lives.

At the center of this same old story stands a singular act: In Jesus Christ, God personally intersected human history and redeemed a particular portion of humanity at a particular time in a particular place. Yet this central act of redemption does not stand alone. It is bordered by God’s good creation and humanity’s fall into sin on the one hand and by the consummation of God’s kingdom on the other. This is the story that Christians have repeated to one another and to the world ever since Jesus vanished through the eastern sky, leaving his first followers gap-mouthed on a hill outside Jerusalem (Acts 1:9–12).

So what does this have to do with the families in your church?

This same story of creation, fall, redemption and consummation should frame every aspect of our lives—including our family lives.

Unfortunately, in many churches, the story line that has driven ministry to children, youth, families has not been creation, fall, redemption, and consummation. Instead, the motivating narrative for family ministry has been a desire to gain numbers for the church or perhaps a longing to turn children into successful and mostly moral adults.

Family ministry rooted in such transient whims will never have a lasting impact. Lasting impact must find its foundation in a far richer and deeper plot line: the story of creation, fall, redemption, and consummation. It’s in this divine story line that we glimpse the truth about who children are, who parents are, and how they should relate to one another.

Cosmos Shaped by a Word, Paradise Shattered by a Choice

The plot is a familiar one—a creation filled with goodness, a serpent filled with lies, a woman gazing at forbidden fruit, the man silent by her side. A choice was made, a hand extended, and suddenly all that had been so good was contorted into sin, sorrow, and death. No one on earth today has ever stood in the spot where our primeval parents took their first taste of cosmic treason. Yet our souls still bear the scars of that ancient exile from Eden.

There is both good news and bad news for families in these primal acts in God’s story line. The good news is that families and children are not byproducts of humanity’s sin. The divine design for marriage and parenthood preceded the fall (Gen 1:28). Even now, by raising children, men and women exercise divinely ordained dominion over God’s creation. This is pleasing to God (Gen 1:26–28; 8:17; 9:1–7; Ps 127:3–5; Mark 10:5–9). Parents provide for their families and nurture their offspring. This too is part of God’s good plan (Matt 7:11; 1 Tim 5:8). Parents train their children to avoid what is evil. Appropriate discipline is also godly and good (Prov 13:24; 19:18; 29:17; Heb 12:5–9).

But there is bad news for families as well: Because of the extent of humanity’s fall, meeting children’s needs and bettering children’s behaviors will never be enough. At best, parental patterns of provision and discipline prepare children to know the kindness of a heavenly Father, to sense the depth of their own sin, and to recognize their need for the gospel. At worst, these patterns train children to be satisfied with regulating outward actions and with pursuing gains that cannot persist past the end of time.

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The seminary has offered modular courses in “J-Terms” for several years, enabling students to take a whole course in five days. Hybrid modular courses blend online course lectures and online discussion forums with an intensive on-campus experience.

The result is that now, in only eight days, students can earn up to 13 hours of on-campus course credit. Since more than half of the hours in each course involve face-to-face instruction at Southern’s campus in Louisville, Ky., all 13 hybrid modular hours count as on-campus credit. What this means is that a student can earn all required on-campus hours for a master’s degree in only two eight-day segments. Students can earn the remainder of the degree through online courses, at extension centers or at the seminary’s campus in Louisville.

The fall 2012 inaugural offering of hybrid modular courses includes a blend of theology, biblical studies, practical ministry and even one language course.

Courses offered the first half of this fall’s hybrid modular week (Oct. 3-6):

• Christian theology I with Bruce Ware;
• Elementary Greek with Rob Plummer;
• Introduction to the New Testament I with Bill Cook; and
• Leadership field education I with Troy Harrison.

Courses offered the second half of this fall’s hybrid modular week (Oct. 8-10):

• Theology and practice of leadership with Michael Wilder;
• Introduction to church history I with Shawn Wright;
• Team ministry relations with Troy Temple; and
• Islam and the Christian mission with J. Ryan West.

Hybrid modular on-campus weeks begin on the Wednesday of fall reading days (in fall semester) and spring break (in spring semester) each semester, and they conclude the Wednesday after, respectively. The online component of each course begins and ends at the beginning and end of the semester. Current students interested should register for hybrid courses through their Moodle portal (here). Those not yet enrolled at Southern Seminary, can do so here. When registering, students should look for these courses:

• 27060 MD Christian theology I;
• 22400 MD elementary Greek;
• 22200 MD introduction to the New Testament I;
• 45190 MD leadership field education I;
• 40080 MD theology and practice of leadership;
• 25100 MD introduction to church history I;
• 42210 MD team ministry relations; and
• 32990 MD Islam and the Christian Mission.

First off, a few little-known facts about “Amazing Grace”:

• The original title wasn’t “Amazing Grace” at all but “Faith’s Review and Expectation.”
•  The words weren’t joined to the familiar “New Britain” tune until 1835, more than a half-century after John Newton penned the first version of the lyrics.
• John Newton and William Cowper wrote a new lyric almost every week for the church members who gathered weekly for prayer meeting in the village of Olney; “Faith’s Review and Expectation” was one of these hymns, penned as a poetic reflection on 1 Chronicles 17:16-17.
• “Faith’s Review and Expectation” was first published in 1779 in Olney Hymns, six years or so after Newton wrote the original verses for a New Year’s Day prayer meeting.
• Hymn texts in Olney Hymns were arranged according to the biblical passage on which each hymn was based—an arrangement that, in my opinion, it would be helpful to recover.

Now for the forgotten hymn: Immediately prior to “Faith’s Review and Expectation” in the originalOlney Hymns, there is a set of lyrics entitled “More With Us Than With Them.” These verses reflect on 2 Kings 6:16. The words of “More With Us Than With Them” have been long since overshadowed by the words that once succeeded them, but I find this text to be just as powerful—particularly the final stanza with its call for intercessory prayer (perhaps even from saints who have gone before us) and its clear appeal to the cross.

Read the rest at TimothyPaulJones.com. 

What was extraordinary about this scene was what I saw beside this young woman.

A tow-haired boy, perhaps three or four years old, was attempting to assist her. His rake was man-sized, his movements were far from efficient, and he was leaving more leaves than he moved. Yet, as I passed this mother and child, I heard no criticisms. Instead, I heard a constant stream of encouragement: “Daddy will be so proud of your hard work! Can you try to get those leaves over there? You know, honey, it might work better if you turned the rake over.”

If this woman’s sole goal for the afternoon was leaf removal, her best bet would have been to plop her preschooler in front of a television to watch professionally-produced children’s programs that pretend to equip children with skills for life while leaching away their capacity for meaningful relationships. If this mother had chosen this option, she could have pursued the goal of planting spring flowers far more efficiently.

But this woman had a goal that was far bigger than any flower-bed.

Read the rest at TimothyPaulJones.com.