When in Rome…

In my ministry, I seek to be more effective to reach out in culturally appropriate ways, never compromising on the message, but working hard to package the message in attractive forms that will draw my friends and those we contact closer to the kingdom of God.

Along these lines there are two concepts that I have found helpful to consider as I pursue my work. Last issue I introduced the concept of itoguchi, (literally, the starting point for unraveling a silk cocoon,) as the starting point of contact that can lead a seeker to relationship with God. The other concept I want to introduce is summed up in the Japanese word shikī (pronounced “she key ee”).

The shikī is the threshold of an entranceway to a home or building. It has a special function in Japanese homes and sometimes also in churches. It is the place where a person steps up into the home, having removed the shoes, to enter the more intimate space. It is a boundary between public and private, of being outside or inside, of being a stranger or belonging. A person may come into the genkan of a home (the foyer just inside the front door) to talk to me, but until he steps up on the shikī, he is still outside. The Old Testament temple had a series of these, each shikī marking a boundary where the space became significantly more holy with each crossing of the threshold.

In Japan, this word also has taken on a symbolic meaning, and perhaps you can already see where this is heading. You may hear someone say about a group, “shikī ga takai,” that is to say, “the step up is a high one,” meaning the barriers to becoming an insider are forbidding. This may apply to a country club one wants to join, or to a company one wants to court for a sale. Or it may and often does apply to a church.

In Japan, when we are putting up a new church building, we have debates about whether it will be a “shoes-on” or a “shoes-off” church! A shoes-off church will have a foyer where folks remove their shoes before stepping up and crossing the shikī to come inside. A shoes-on church may not have a visible threshold, and be more of a “public” building. Having the newcomer take off their shoes and come into the meeting room gains you a certain intimacy with that visitor that may allow you to assume their seriousness about seeking something from the church.

On the other hand, the seeker may be intimidated by the idea of showing up at a church meeting and be put off by the need to cross that threshold, because it seems presumptuous or is too risky to go right into that intimate space. The shoes-on church removes a barrier, literally, to make coming into the presence of God psychologically a little easier. But then you don’t have the advantage of assuming a certain level of intimacy to build on. Taking shoes off and coming into the private place of someone’s home is not done without invitation, and the invitation to come inside usually needs to be repeated two or three times, as it is not customary to enter someone else’s home without a prior relationship. At any rate, there are plusses and minuses to either approach, and we have built both kinds of buildings, though my personal preference is shoes on!

But as I mentioned already, like the itoguchi concept, the shikī concept also takes on a figurative meaning. And all too often, the barriers we have erected, sometimes inadvertently, sometimes brazenly, make it more challenging to newcomers and can be really formidable! These may involve everything from inadequate lighting and amenities, to poor practices in greeting and seating folks, to codes of etiquette and dress that put people off, to using music and vocabulary that is foreign to “outsiders.” We have many ways of sending the message to people that they do not belong. Sometimes this may involve something as simple as using a phrase like “justification by faith” without explaining it, or even a word like “congregation.” Where is that word ever used outside of a church? Do people who have no church experience know it? If you think this example is silly, you’re not grasping the extent of the problem! Is the facility “user-friendly”? Do we imply that people need to learn a new language before they can pray? Does the order of worship flow and make sense so that people know what’s expected? Does the “dress code” and style of music create space for people of all kinds who may come into the service so that they’re not distracted by these peripheral things and can come into the presence of God and hear his word of invitation to believe the good news?

Too often, we in the church tend to go on doing what we’ve always done while the culture around us heads in a new direction, and the tendency is always for that shikī to get higher and higher. Change is hard, and the church is by its nature a conservative institution, making this an even bigger challenge for us. We may come to different conclusions about the shoes-on/shoes-off issues or about the traditional/contemporary/new praise and worship/blended worship style. My plea is for us to be very self-conscious about knowing why we do the things we do and to examine carefully what these things imply to the newcomer or what message they send to the seeker. Our purpose is to draw folks to the throne of grace where they hear the word of salvation.

Georg Lichtenberg, an 18th century German scientist (and preacher’s kid) said, “Even truth needs to be clad in new garments if it is to appeal to a new age.”¹ We are talking about the garments here, not the truth itself, which does not change. At the same time, we need to ponder Marshall McLuhan’s observation that the medium can become the message,² and we need to be cautious lest the media we use to communicate actually end up warping the message. I urge us to think deeply about the barriers we erect that make the shikī problematically high for newcomers. When we think, “he’s not one of us,” or maybe even voice it, or imply it as we play “bingo” with last names and peg people by finding out if they’re related to anybody we know but then act disappointed when they’re not, when we are unwilling to stretch our comfort zones to make room for the widows, orphans and strangers that God sends our way, we are in danger of creating stumbling blocks for the “little ones” who are precious to their heavenly Father. That is something we surely want to avoid!

Two suggestions to help lower the barriers are to increase lay leadership in worship and to expend more effort on hospitality (fellowship meals, etc.). Making worship more participatory and eating together are two powerful ways to create more intimacy among those at worship and seem to have been key areas in the life of the early church that made it so attractive to their neighbors (see Acts 2:42-47). Using more people in worship leadership shows that others besides the pastor and musicians have roles to play (and uses the gifts of more of God’s people) and lowers the distance people may feel towards the pastor and the Lord. Mealtimes facilitate conversation, affirmation, and reconciliation, and have been used by the Lord God in this way at least from the time of Abraham (and likely from the beginning).

I say all this is in regard to those who are showing the initiative by coming to us! I’ve hardly even begun to address the matter of going out to them in the highways and byways!

Finding the itoguchi and considering the shikī problem are two keys areas to think deeply about in order to make us more effective at winning people for Christ and bringing them into his kingdom. 

1 Georg Lichtenberg, Aphorisms, Notebook C #33, 1772-1773.
2 Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, 1964.