The Archaeology, Artistry, and Architecture of Kingdom Ecosystems
By Taylor McCall & Hugh Halter
A Review by Dwight A. Moody
Every page of this book challenged some aspect of everything I have done and said as a gospel minister for a half century. At the end, I am not a convert to this way of thinking and serving, but I am definitely a seeker after the truth this book contains, and I am open to changing my mind and my ways in these lasts few years of life and work.
McCall and Halter are ministers, but they never use that word to describe themselves; it is too traditional, too predictable. There is no word in this book (or elsewhere online that I could find) that speaks to their education, ordination, or affiliation. This, of course, is deliberate, indicating a sustained preference for embracing a fresh approach to their profession.
The subtitle of this book says as much. Who ever connects “archeology, artistry, and architecture” to church work? And who has ever used the word “ecosystems” to describe what a church is and does? Nobody. Which, again, is precisely the point. McCall and his elder by 20 years Halter are trying new ways of being ministers, new ways of being church.
I don’t think it was always this way in their careers, but somewhere along the way they tired of the old and established ways of leading churches and decided to do something different, something creative, something bold.
They moved to Alton, Illinois, on the Mississippi across from St. Louis. The book is not clear as to why they chose Alton, except that it is a depressed town living on the back side of its better days. They went there to bless the people. They sought to discern what the town needed, which was a new infusion of entrepreneurial energy. Which is exactly what McCall and Halter wanted to do. Church is business, they write, and business is church—or can be. So, they settled in Alton and started a series of businesses.
They took possession of the old, empty post office and transformed it (by their own manual labor) into a bustling and busy center of human activity: restaurant, coffee shop, and a space for public and private events. Post Commons, they cleverly call it and describe it thusly: “We work hard to create an authentic space that cultivates community in a relational context.”
Really, it is a front for meeting and befriending people which is the first step toward enticing them toward Christ. Along with these initiatives, they also run an equine therapy ranch on the outskirts of town and an odd assortment of other businesses. Business occupies their time and provides income for their casual, friendship-based pastoral work. Occasionally, they even have gatherings for Christian things. They shy away from worship services or any of the traditional trappings of organized religion.
It is an intriguing strategy, for which they use the mysterious label, “brave cities.” And I wondered more than once about the origin and significance of this phrase; the closest McCall and Halter came to answering is to assert that every city needs a city within it, Christian people networking together to provide an alternate way to live, prosper, and bless their neighbors.
I am not surprised at this non-religious initiative in the name of Jesus. People in these United States are leaving organized religion by the droves. This is an effort to package Jesus in a different way, perhaps a more authentic way; and it just may work.
But I wonder. McCall and Halter have been in Alton for about six years. Sustainability is not everything, but it is something, and sustaining something new for a decade, a generation, or a century is important. Other forms of Christian faith and practice have managed to remain and sometimes flourish for two millennia. I wonder what things in Alton—or in other brave cities—will look like 20 years after McCall and/or Halter are buried somewhere.
There are other things I wonder about. Where in the New Testament would we look to find scriptural models for such an enterprise? And why the disdain for public speaking (preaching) and teaching? These models of Christian leadership have been around for a long time and have a record of great success. Why use the biblical image of Babylon to denigrate traditional religious structures and practices? Wouldn’t it be better to bless those who do it different, even as we try to bless these two spiritual entrepreneurs?
And what’s with the fascination with “apostle”? This is the title they settle on, driven by the five-fold ministry Paul enumerates in his letter to the Ephesians: Apostle, Prophet, Evangelist, Pastor, and Teacher. They mention the APEST inventory (page 145); I went online and took the test and discovered that I am, indeed, an apostle! Or at least, 73% Apostle.
I am not sure what I am going to do with this new title. It didn’t seem to impress my wife. And, perhaps unbeknownst to these two pastors, it is connected to Black Pentecostalism and also the MAGA movement through what is called the New Apostolic Reformation!
But I digress; and also confess that in these last few years of my long, entrepreneurial career as an ordained gospel worker, I may embrace some aspects of the title and also the strategy which these two men describe in this book. And I end by saying: this is a book worth reading, challenging as it does all the assumptions and expectations about the call of God upon our lives. I wonder what I might have done had I read this book 50 years ago when I was just beginning.
I hope to travel to Alton, not far from my old adolescent stomping ground, order some coffee at the Post Commons, and ask some of these questions to whomever is around.
