At Presbymergent’s recent gathering of the Coordinating Group (Feb. 17—19, 2009) someone mentioned the book, Outliers; the Story of Success, by Malcolm Gladwell. On my plane ride home (to Spokane, Washington), I spied the title in the Louisville airport, bought the text and began reading. As you may know, the gist of the best-seller is that “success” has been misconstrued. In fact, the journey toward a successful career or an acclaimed accomplishment has less to do with innate ability than we may have imagined. And so, I take heart. Connections, synergetic connections, among the participants of Presbymergent abound, and that, more than anything else, may be the key to our potential success in serving God.

And yet, allow me to offer this caveat. In chapter seven of Outliers, Gladwell chronicles the failed communication between Avianca Flight 052 and the traffic control tower of Kennedy airport. That excerpt too may be instructive for Presbymergent. Here’s the gist of what took place in January of 1990: the captain and first officer knew that their 707 was running low on fuel. However, instead of transmitting the dire nature of their circumstance, the Columbian pilots deferred to those brash-speaking controllers on the ground. Rather than emphatically demanding to land the plane immediately, their nonchalant description of the emergency—evidently pilots often say that they’re running low on fuel—led to a catastrophic crash into the estate of John McEnroe. “Thank you very much” were the last words of the first officer as Flight 052 maintained its dutiful holding pattern.

Now, here is the parallel that I would like to make with Presbymergent and the Presbyterian Church (USA): Between those who Twitter and those who do not, communication breaks down. Between those who regularly blog and those who do not, there is an intimidation factor that must be considered carefully as we move forward. Without disavowing or disabusing people of their technology, I propose that we begin to practice a disciplined poetic style of interacting with one another. I don’t mean that we discipline ourselves to speak in rhyme or even iambic pentameter, but that we carry on conversations based upon our contextual experience. That is, let’s begin to say things and to hear things that break through the thickening skin of the Emergent Village subculture. Let’s renounce the incessant tendency we may have to quote the ecclesial expert and let’s truly traffic in the lingo of the vulnerable and broken theo-babblers that we are.

One of the most compelling conversations that we had in Louisville took place at a pub on Thursday evening. I was tired and ready to go home, but a woman from Judd’s church simply asked us to tell why we’re so passionate about serving God. Each person then shared a vivid story of some loss, some trauma or some life-emergency, that precipitated and preceded the call of the Spirit. My sense is that we need Presbymergent to function like Theology On Tap, and that everyone should have the chance to contribute a poetic and authentic verse. If one verse is left out, or is conveniently ignored, or is not honored, Presbymergent will not become the dialogue we had hoped it could be.