When I moved here for graduate school fifteen years ago, Seattle was on top-10 lists for both “most unchurched” and “most churches per capita” of cities in the United States. This was confusing: How do we have the most churches and the lowest church attendance? It didn’t take long to figure out: Many church planters came here from back east to “save” the sinners of Seattle. They see the “unchurched” statistic and read it as an opportunity, raising funds from their congregation or denomination to move here with a UHaul full of Jesus for the region that (they believe) has no God. They come to get us to attend their Sunday morning worship service, to pray like them, to speak like them, to celebrate like them, to marry like them. Most fizzle pretty quickly.
Meanwhile, I often hear from pastors in more established congregations that the resources they get from their denominations are unusable. They’re formed in the eastern third of the country, where denominations are headquartered or have seminaries. They don’t translate to the Cascadian context.
For the last thirteen years, Christ & Cascadia has reflected on the practice of ministry throughout the bioregion. We’ve sought to articulate what is distinct about ministry in this region, the questions pertinent to ministry here, where we see signs of life, where we are learning more. Above all, this journal has been a collective discernment: What is Christ up to in Cascadia?
Here, I’ll do my best to summarize some themes and principles. These principles are primarily drawn from the articles published on this site, and further strengthened through conversations in the Christ & Cascadia Gathering, a relational unconference-style event for traditional and innovative faith leaders in the region.
My hope is that these principles serve as a starting point for ministry leaders to develop shared language, as an orientation for new-to-the-area pastors, and as learnings that translate to areas that are moving past assumptions of Christian normativity and into post-Christendom. The collective discernment will continue through courses, workshops, and conferences hosted by pastors, ministry leaders, social entrepreneurs, and innovators at the Center for Transforming Engagement — we hope you continue the conversation with us .
Principles of Christian Ministry in Cascadia
Keep the First Revelation First.
St Augustine referred to the Book of Nature as the first revelation, followed by the second revelation, the Book of Scripture. He wrote that when the two appear to conflict, it is nature that takes primacy and the interpretation of scripture that should be reconsidered.
For too long, American Christianity has inverted this priority. We’ve mis-read the command to “fill the earth and subdue it.” We’ve mis-understood (sometimes intentionally, aggressively) what it meant to have been “given” the birds, beasts, and every green thing — and ignored the responsibilities that come with such stewardship.
Cascadians are sensitive to these realities. We have a deep respect, appreciation, and enjoyment of the outdoors. We love nature almost as much as God does. And we see that much destruction of the natural world is falsely claimed to be God-ordained.
While it is easy for pastors to feel as though they’re competing with nature for congregants on a Sunday morning (we do seem to be more compelled to hike to a mountaintop than sit in a sanctuary), effective pastors in this region share an appreciation for nature and integrate it into their faith. They have a nuanced understanding of the commands in Genesis, organize hikes and camping trips, integrate seasonal approaches into the Christian calendar, incorporate nature into their calling and spiritual practices, lead their congregations to divest from fossil fuels, and encourage ministries of creation care.
This theme is first because you’ll notice nature throughout the metaphors that authors and leaders used to form the other themes are nature-based.
Love Your Neighbor(hood)
Too often, the Christian faith is filled with lofty ideals that don’t quite manage to land on the ground. We speak of faith, hope, and love, but don’t translate them into behaviors and ministries. Cascadians demand that we do. We are action-oriented, locally-focused people.
Which perhaps is sometimes felt as a coldness — the urban centers of the Cascadian corridor call it the Portland polite, the Seattle freeze, Vancouver’s arctic chill. The mentality of “worry about your own plot of land” is not only an ask for privacy, but an ask for personal responsibility. I’m coming to wonder if the coldness is a tactic that asks: Show me. Show me who you are, in your actions. Show me what love means to you, on your own plot of land.
While we often lament the isolation and individualism, the gift is that there is no loyalty to the status quo. Paired with the pioneering “can do” spirit of the region, Cascadia is an incredible place for innovation at a hyper-local level.
In the final Christ & Cascadia Gathering held in Des Moines, Washington, one attendee spoke to their congregation’s commitment to care for the five block radius surrounding their church building. Another shared about her ministry on the five acres of her property. She is committed to clearing it of all invasive species while inviting others in her community to help and teaching them along the way. Creation care ministries are often hyper-local, often beginning on a church’s property. From collaborative art installations, to soup nights and coffee shops, to international student dinners, the region is full of Christians finding unconventional ways to serve their neighbors and address the problems facing their local area. It’s no wonder that the New Parish movement began here.
Look for the Resurrection of the Dead
In the last section I spoke of innovation, of experiments in what service of God and neighbor might look like. The reality of experiments is that some fail; sometimes, the entire institutions that housed the experiment failed. Sometimes those institutions are called Church.
Whether it’s the “fail forward” framework of technology culture, or (more often cited by Christ & Cascadia Gathering attendees) the “nurse log” in which new life sprouts from the decaying stump of an old tree, Cascadians know that death leads to new life. We are formed, by both the natural and created environments we live in, to learn, to grow, to release the old and ask what’s next.
Post-Christendom areas are filled with not only “nones” (those with no religious affiliation), but the “dones and dissatisfieds” — those who have been active in congregational life, perhaps even grew up in it, and found it wanting. This group seems to be accepting of the church decline, and even see it as a cause for hope: in healthy ecologies, death leads to life.
What this looks like on the ground takes many forms, from shifting ministry with cultural trends to establishing entirely different ways of gathering beyond the walls of church. Perhaps it’s a church property that, lacking a congregation that can support the upkeep, is repurposed into affordable housing. Perhaps it’s a dying institution that puts its remaining funds to an education foundation. Whatever the form, the cultural embrace of regeneration and resurrection creates fertile ground for innovation.
Embrace the Other (or: Many Paths, One Mountain; Many Trees, One Forest)
It’s interesting that we have four gospels that regularly contradict one another. It seems that, from the beginning of our faith, we embraced multiple perspectives.
In conversations throughout the final Christ & Cascadia Gathering, participants spoke to the importance of biodiversity as a metaphor for spiritual lives. A forest needs many types of plants and animals to survive; so does Christianity. One participant linked biodiversity and the need for multiple denominations: We must be the forest together, big and small, with our various structures and gifts. Participants from a liturgical tradition shared that they had never heard of Mars Hill Church, but were getting many ex-evangelicals at their service and were learning how to accommodate those wounded by religion. Across conversations, a shared Christian identity mattered more than loyalty to any one denomination or tradition — and people actively valued others’ worship formats, prayer styles, and differing perspectives.
This embrace of other beliefs seems to extend beyond Christianity. Rather than lamenting low “biblical literacy,” Cascadian Christians speak appreciatively of the fresh perspectives of newcomers and are curious about what they might have to learn from other traditions, faiths, and practices.
Acknowledge the Wounds
A connected theme to embracing differences is the acceptance and understanding of those who have been harmed by Christianity.
When Jesus resurrects and goes to the disciples, the first thing he does is pull aside his robe for them to see his wounds. For many who have been hurt by the church, they have the same need to be seen before going on with ministry is possible. Perhaps Thomas, the one willing to draw close to the wounds of the resurrected Christ, to stick his fingers inside them to understand them deeply, should be the patron saint of Cascadian faith life.
Historically, the US West was “settled” (colonized) by people who had been pushed out of society back East. Excommunicated, they weren’t exactly seeking to affiliate with others after the move. More recently, the very public controversies around Mars Hill Church are fresh in the memory of many Christians. Cascadians seem to understand that institutions can be dangerous; we don’t blame those outside the church for staying away, and we know God is with them, too. Pastors are more aware of the need for trauma-informed care for folks coming out of that and similar (nominally) Christian communities that have harmed people in a myriad of ways. This, too, is tied to our openness to innovation; we know that replicating old systems will replicate the harm inherent in them. Instead, we continue to seek fresh expression and to follow where Spirit is guiding us, together.
A Final Blessing
While publication of Christ & Cascadia is ending, we know that Christ is far from being done with the region. The spirit of shared learning that has lived here for the last thirteen years will continue on at the Center for Transforming Engagement, where courses and workshops will continue to grow the forest of Christian community and its understory — the Church of the future. We hope you join us there.
May you feel God’s presence ready to welcome you into every moment and every place.
May your ministry serve people and planet with each action.
May your ministry be grounded in your body for the good of your plot of land.
May death always carry possibilities of new life,
And differences carry the opportunity for new perspectives.
May you have the courage to witness the wounds of others,
And to humility to seek healing for your own wounds.
May you find your place within the abundant ecosystem of faith life.
May the Spirit that includes and transcends everything continue to call you to transcend your own understanding of the divine.
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