I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening?
I've been aware of the time going by
They say in the end it's the wink of an eye
When the morning light comes streaming in
You'll get up and do it again
Amen.
Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender.
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the Pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there
--Jackson Brown, "The Pretender"
Who are we willing to become to get what we want?
Along the path of life, we have had to change. Childhood fancies give way to adult longings. Immature pursuits turn into mature ones. Our dreams of what we will become change and evolve. As they should.
But we are all the Pretender, in some way. We pretend to like something we don't for the sake of someone we hope to win the love of. We pretend to know something we don't to belong to a group or get that job. We hide our true feelings, wither because we don't want to hurt someone- more likely we don't want to get hurt.
As an adult, I've often seen the younger people around me, teenagers and college students, struggle with this. They compromise who they really are to be with someone who refuses to see them as they are. They become lesser versions of themselves for the sake of 'love' or of comfort. They play the role others expect them to play, be it jock or nerd or girlfriend/boyfriend or artist or quirky or dumb or smart. Inside there is a longing to be real, to let others know how they truly are.
But increasingly, I've seen people my age and older becoming more Pretenders than who they really are. They are compromising, they are falling short, they are giving up on dreams. They are losing sight of who they REALLY are.
Switchfoot sings, "This is your life, are you who you want to be?" I bet there is a good number of us who would answer that with a profound "No!" We are who our spouse or boss wants us to be. We are whoever we need to be to get him/her into bed. We are whoever we need to be so people will like us. We are who we need to be to pay the bills, or more poetically "Struggle for the legal tender."
Deep down, when I've answered negatively to Switchfoot's question, the fear is not that I have forgotten who I want to be, but that I have forsaken or missed the opportunity to be that person. And it is the fear and longing for that goal that drives me down. It is only when I realize that we are all able to start over, cease the compromise, take off the mask of the Pretender and be who we want to be that I begin to surface.
When we pretend to be that which we are not, our dreams are shallow- all our "hopes and dreams begin and end there"-, we are less than we were made to be. We need to rise up. Above that "everyone else is doing it and it's hard to swim against that current" mentality. We were made for more than this. We were not made to be what everone else is, to do what everyone else does. We were made for holiness.
Holiness is an excellence we cannot hope to achieve on our own. That need not mean we never strive for it. Because we are told we cannot be Holy should drive us all the more to seek it. And only by God's grace may we have it.
Are you who you want to be or are you the Pretender? Your answer to that doesn't depend on you, but whether or not you remain as you are or change, does.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Church of Misfits
I met a church planter named Jim when I took a group of teenagers to Colorado a few years ago. He told me about how his church's location, a gift of God in itself, was an odd location. At the back of a cemetery, it also found itself with a phone number from one town, address from another, and still another town somehow involved with their contact info. "They have to really be looking for us to find us," he said with a smile. Then, he described the people that made up his church, how many of them had been ill fit in other churches, and even in society at large. They came from backgrounds as diverse as the church's address, and had different hangups and struggles as well. He concluded, in a very complimentary way, "We're a church of misfits."
That term conjures up for me images of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and his visit to an island with toys no one wanted. At first, these strange toys were a bit scary to Rudolph and Company, but soon they learned they weren't scary at all, but toys that needed love and acceptance.
What struck me about Jim's comment was the fact that I had never known a church of misfits. I grew up in a part of the world where church attendance was a status symbol. In my church growing up, I belonged to the in-group. I was highly involved in my church in college, and then went straight into the ministry, so I always felt a part of the church. I was surrounded in these churches by people of stature in the community- bankers, doctors, ranchers, school administrators, wealthy retirees. I never thought of church as a place for misfits, because I had never noticed them in my church.
But they must have been there, though probably not for long. I looked back at the group of teenagers I was leading. No misfits there- but I did think about the students who hadn't come- who had never clicked in this group. One student I had spent time with had come from a troubled background. Dillan met Christ, and wanted more. I would work with him and he was always eager to help out. Eventually, for some reason, he stopped coming. But as I thought about it, I realized that he had been a misfit- others never accepted him. And if there was one Dillan out there, there must be more.
Much of that trip to Colorado shaped my desire for a new kind of church- which would ultimately become the Gate. That comment about misfits and my sudden realization that my whole life I had been a part of the problem of accepting the easy kids and ignoring the misfits took point. I wanted a church to exist for those who felt left out, ignored, or flat our rejected by the church...and society.
I've since visited churches and come to realize that all churches have a culture. Some churches are for the cool people. Some for the people who like to have the Bible beaten into them. Some for the tradtitionalist, others for the new stuff. Some churches are very proper, others very informal. People who don't fit that culture are subtly (or forcefully) moved out. Even the Gate has a culture- but we are keenly aware that we do, and work hard to make it a culture of openness.
When I think about our church, I realize we are growing into a group of misfits in some ways. We have pastor's kids seated with people who never spent much time in church. We have country kids and rock kids. We have computer geeks and people like me. We have thinkers and we have doers, we have theologians in training and we have new believers. We have people who didn't fit anywhere else, but in our little gatherings, they have found a home. In the process, I came to realize that everyone is a misfit in some ways- everyone is the black sheep of the family.
While every church has a culture, and it is important that we do, I hope that we develop a culture that has a place for everyone. I think it starts with each of us looking around and seeing who seems to feel out of place, then making it a point to welcome them in. The out of place person may be new, or have been there their whole life and no one ever noticed them.
Be the fellow misfit that does.
That term conjures up for me images of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and his visit to an island with toys no one wanted. At first, these strange toys were a bit scary to Rudolph and Company, but soon they learned they weren't scary at all, but toys that needed love and acceptance.
What struck me about Jim's comment was the fact that I had never known a church of misfits. I grew up in a part of the world where church attendance was a status symbol. In my church growing up, I belonged to the in-group. I was highly involved in my church in college, and then went straight into the ministry, so I always felt a part of the church. I was surrounded in these churches by people of stature in the community- bankers, doctors, ranchers, school administrators, wealthy retirees. I never thought of church as a place for misfits, because I had never noticed them in my church.
But they must have been there, though probably not for long. I looked back at the group of teenagers I was leading. No misfits there- but I did think about the students who hadn't come- who had never clicked in this group. One student I had spent time with had come from a troubled background. Dillan met Christ, and wanted more. I would work with him and he was always eager to help out. Eventually, for some reason, he stopped coming. But as I thought about it, I realized that he had been a misfit- others never accepted him. And if there was one Dillan out there, there must be more.
Much of that trip to Colorado shaped my desire for a new kind of church- which would ultimately become the Gate. That comment about misfits and my sudden realization that my whole life I had been a part of the problem of accepting the easy kids and ignoring the misfits took point. I wanted a church to exist for those who felt left out, ignored, or flat our rejected by the church...and society.
I've since visited churches and come to realize that all churches have a culture. Some churches are for the cool people. Some for the people who like to have the Bible beaten into them. Some for the tradtitionalist, others for the new stuff. Some churches are very proper, others very informal. People who don't fit that culture are subtly (or forcefully) moved out. Even the Gate has a culture- but we are keenly aware that we do, and work hard to make it a culture of openness.
When I think about our church, I realize we are growing into a group of misfits in some ways. We have pastor's kids seated with people who never spent much time in church. We have country kids and rock kids. We have computer geeks and people like me. We have thinkers and we have doers, we have theologians in training and we have new believers. We have people who didn't fit anywhere else, but in our little gatherings, they have found a home. In the process, I came to realize that everyone is a misfit in some ways- everyone is the black sheep of the family.
While every church has a culture, and it is important that we do, I hope that we develop a culture that has a place for everyone. I think it starts with each of us looking around and seeing who seems to feel out of place, then making it a point to welcome them in. The out of place person may be new, or have been there their whole life and no one ever noticed them.
Be the fellow misfit that does.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
That Was Stupid
I hope you all have a friend who will tell you when you're being stupid. This is a necessary person, if you desire to survive life for long. There are friends that will love you and want to be around you, but will never confront you. They are friends, but not the kind that are close enough to really know you. No, the friends who call you on your stupidity are deeper friendships. They have earned the right to comment on your life. Their judgment of your actions is rooted in a desire to make you better, to hold you accountable...to keep you disciplined.
For a while now- longer than I've been alive, at least- the assessment of Christians is that they are judgmental. I think this comes from the fact that we are always seen as telling people what NOT to do. Does this in itself make Christians judgmental? I don't think taking a stand and saying, "No, I don't agree with that," makes us judgmental. In fact, it is something we need to be stronger in.
In truth, a lot of people who feel judged by Christians probably feel that way because of an underlying guilt. They, too, know they are wrong, on some level. But, alas, we are in fact, more often than not, pretty harsh towards people.
Here is what I mean. Let's say you are walking down the street. You reach into your pocket to answer your phone, and a piece of trash falls out onto the sidewalk from said pocket. You don't notice it, but Mr. Green Police does. He proceeds to yell at you, about how you are disrespectful to the planet, how you are insensitive to the ecological effort to clean up the place, and how you generally just kind of tick him off in your complete ignorance of your (unintentional) littering. Now, you don't know Mr. Green Police, and he doesn't know you, but his sensibilities and his worldview have been offended, so he reacts. Harshly.
As Christians, we often see others, people we don't know, doing something we know contradicts the teachings of the Bible. We may not run up to them on the street, but we picket them, we blast them from books and letters to the editor and blogs (pauses to check to make sure I haven't done this same thing in my blog). We attack with our words people who are in fact sinning. Why is that wrong?
Because we haven't earned the right. If you develop a bad habit, say, smoking, and a dear friend of many years or a stranger in a restaurant expresses their concerns, who are you going to listen to? Both may state clinical facts, both may state how they are personally bothered, but chances are, the stranger is just going to piss you off a bit, while the friend may also irk you- but they will make you think.
What I'm getting at is that judgment as it is defined in today's world implies distance. It's like sniper accountability. We don't get blood on our hands, and they never see us (read: Know us) so we can shoot our opinion off and run.
So rather than judging others, I advocate accountability. It is grows out of established relationships, it is mutual, and it is hands on. If I see someone sinning that I don't know- how can I judge them if I don't know their circumstance. They may not know it is wrong. They may subscribe to a belief that it isn't wrong. They may not care. But we need to know them to confront them.
I've known, and I've been the kind of person that took the lazy way of making the world a better, less sinful place. I shouted from the rooftops that certain things were wrong, and anyone who did them deserved what they got. Then people I knew got caught. And it became real, and personal, and up close. Suddenly, I wasn't so hard line. Suddenly, I wanted them to know they were wrong so that they could know grace and seek it.
We ARE judgmental toward others when we want them to know they are wrong to prove that WE are right. Accountability comes when we love the person enough to get our hands dirty not only telling them of their error, but helping them get over it and through it. Being judgmental doesn't make a person agree with you, and neither does accountability- but accountability opens them up to hear your views because you are willing to listen to theirs.
The beauty of the Church is that she is potentially full of those kinds of friends who will tell you when you are stupid. So let us invest in each other, get to know each other, and earn each others trust and respect. Those are the signs of true, deep friendship, the kind that can call you on your mistakes with love.
I can't wait for you to tell when I've done something stupid.
For a while now- longer than I've been alive, at least- the assessment of Christians is that they are judgmental. I think this comes from the fact that we are always seen as telling people what NOT to do. Does this in itself make Christians judgmental? I don't think taking a stand and saying, "No, I don't agree with that," makes us judgmental. In fact, it is something we need to be stronger in.
In truth, a lot of people who feel judged by Christians probably feel that way because of an underlying guilt. They, too, know they are wrong, on some level. But, alas, we are in fact, more often than not, pretty harsh towards people.
Here is what I mean. Let's say you are walking down the street. You reach into your pocket to answer your phone, and a piece of trash falls out onto the sidewalk from said pocket. You don't notice it, but Mr. Green Police does. He proceeds to yell at you, about how you are disrespectful to the planet, how you are insensitive to the ecological effort to clean up the place, and how you generally just kind of tick him off in your complete ignorance of your (unintentional) littering. Now, you don't know Mr. Green Police, and he doesn't know you, but his sensibilities and his worldview have been offended, so he reacts. Harshly.
As Christians, we often see others, people we don't know, doing something we know contradicts the teachings of the Bible. We may not run up to them on the street, but we picket them, we blast them from books and letters to the editor and blogs (pauses to check to make sure I haven't done this same thing in my blog). We attack with our words people who are in fact sinning. Why is that wrong?
Because we haven't earned the right. If you develop a bad habit, say, smoking, and a dear friend of many years or a stranger in a restaurant expresses their concerns, who are you going to listen to? Both may state clinical facts, both may state how they are personally bothered, but chances are, the stranger is just going to piss you off a bit, while the friend may also irk you- but they will make you think.
What I'm getting at is that judgment as it is defined in today's world implies distance. It's like sniper accountability. We don't get blood on our hands, and they never see us (read: Know us) so we can shoot our opinion off and run.
So rather than judging others, I advocate accountability. It is grows out of established relationships, it is mutual, and it is hands on. If I see someone sinning that I don't know- how can I judge them if I don't know their circumstance. They may not know it is wrong. They may subscribe to a belief that it isn't wrong. They may not care. But we need to know them to confront them.
I've known, and I've been the kind of person that took the lazy way of making the world a better, less sinful place. I shouted from the rooftops that certain things were wrong, and anyone who did them deserved what they got. Then people I knew got caught. And it became real, and personal, and up close. Suddenly, I wasn't so hard line. Suddenly, I wanted them to know they were wrong so that they could know grace and seek it.
We ARE judgmental toward others when we want them to know they are wrong to prove that WE are right. Accountability comes when we love the person enough to get our hands dirty not only telling them of their error, but helping them get over it and through it. Being judgmental doesn't make a person agree with you, and neither does accountability- but accountability opens them up to hear your views because you are willing to listen to theirs.
The beauty of the Church is that she is potentially full of those kinds of friends who will tell you when you are stupid. So let us invest in each other, get to know each other, and earn each others trust and respect. Those are the signs of true, deep friendship, the kind that can call you on your mistakes with love.
I can't wait for you to tell when I've done something stupid.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Our Church is a Sitcom
This is what the cover of the Season 1 DVD of the Gate could look like
All the great sitcoms are about really different people coming together. Spiritual Phoebe is friends with Scientist Ross. Postman Cliff is besties with No-job Norm, half-wit Woody and brainy Frasier. And the ultimate: Oscar and Felix ARE the Odd Couple. It is the misunderstandings, the crossed intentions, the social gaffes that make us laugh and ask for seconds. We come to love the people, despite their foibles and insecurities. They can almost feel like family.
I've often thought of my life as a story, some parts more drama, other parts more romance, still others tragedy. But most of it, the parts centered in relationships, are all sit-com. So it is that I believe if a movie or TV show were ever made of the Gate, it would be a comedy. At most a dramedy.
Case in point, last night, about twelve of us gathered to have a meal. We couldn't use the bar, due to it being booked, so we had a meal at our house. We did up the lighting and brought in tables, and we all gathered round for a prayer. Kristin and I and the Wellborns served everyone, and that's when it got funny.
Daniel commented, "I was expecting Peproni Rolls," when I informed him we had barbecue. Meant as a "Barbecue is so much better than what I was expecting," I called him ungrateful and told him to leave. The ball was rolling. Neil, one of our newer folks, made a comment, which then elicited a recurring punchline/slight inside joke from Jake and Chris, "It's fine if you like looking at naked men." (If you want to know this story, you have to come ask.) Katherine attempted to play a song we had been talking about, only to accidentally play the unedited version quite loudly. Wally learned, very publicly, what happens when you offend your pregnant wife. Crissy also demonstrated her mean look. Kristin kept forgetting what she was going to the kitchen for. Jessica informed us of some funny You Tube clips she had seen and also provided an awesome cobbler, which wasn't funny, but bears mentioning.
I sat and listened as stories were told, and laughter abounded. Each of our individual faux pas and humorous anecdotes driving the laughter louder and longer. The longer the night went on, the more I realized I was witnessing something special.
Outside of the prayer, there was nothing spiritual about the night, but there was something sacred. Our lives were blending. I remember an Interpersonal Communication class from college that said "stories are how relationships are built and maintained." If that is the case, our relationships are quite funny. What was great about last night was not that we laughed so much, or even that we enjoyed each other so much, it was that it was not a one time thing. It was a usual camaraderie in a new setting. What was sacred was that we were being the Church. It was not a program, or prefabricated schedule, it was each of us being real, being open enough to allow ourselves to be laughed at and with. It felt more like a family gathering than a stoic church service.
Isn't that what the Church is supposed to be, anyway? A Family? Sure, we need to have those deep, serious talks, but we also need to feel a connectedness to each other. That can come through a shared laugh just as easily as a shared tragedy or lesson. In fact, most people who are outside a group want in it if it appears to be a group they want to share their lives with.
That's why Friends and Cheers, or the Big Bang Theory are hit shows- we want to share our lives with them because they seem like fun people. They make us laugh, and we think we could make them laugh if had the chance. We have our own Chandlers, Norms, and Sheldons in our church, and you know what, I want to laugh with them.
And in the Sacred of growing together through shared laughter, the Spiritual of connecting to God as a Body becomes possible.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Mark of Generosity
I remember sitting in a church business meeting where the motion was brought up to close it's food pantry. The town had a food pantry, but there were issues with it. The church's was much smaller, and the number of individuals who frequented it were small. I listened as the reasons were listed: It's dangerous for the secretary if she's here by herself, people take advantage of it, it's a hassle... In the end, four people out of over thirty voted to keep it.
I think my faith in church died a little that night. Not that the reasons for closing it weren't valid, at least in some cases. We did need to be safer about it, there were a lot of hitchhikers that came through this town, and it's just good safety to have a couple people to escort these folks down. Yes, people did take advantage of it, but then, that's not an excuse for ceasing generosity. The Bible asks if we wouldn't rather be taken advantage of for the sake of Christ.
In the years since that night, I've grown increasingly angry over the ways churches spend the money and manpower they get. College Station and Bryan have numerous multimillion dollar church facilities. Some of these churches do an incredible amount of giving to the community and the world in need. One church here has done a great deal of stuff for the Haiti earthquake vicitms. But there are others that just seem to build for themselves. It's not bad to need to build, it means more people are coming to Christ (I hope). But why not start sending people out to areas that need the gospel, starting new churches there.
But that's being unfair to the churches as a whole. Every church I have ever known has some very generous and giving people. Probably more of them than the stingy, miserly Mr. Potters (reaching back to It's a Wonderful Life for my favorite money grubbing bad guy reference- and I have definitely known some of them). See, it only takes a few people to corrupt the bunch. One Scrooge can make a community see a hundred Cratchetts as not being generous. So what do you do?
Are we as individuals generous or stingy? I'm not just talking about giving to the church, I'm talking about giving to those in need. I know a lot of people who give religiously (he he) to their church, but wouldn't hand a starving man a dollar on the street. Is that generosity?
I know times are hard, but can you remember the last time you gave someone a helping hand? What about the last time you gave your time to someone? Loaned them a tool they needed? Or a book they wanted? Generosity is not just about giving money, but about how you are with all your possessions. It boils down to if you view the things you have as yours or God's.
The Acts church viewed their stuff as God's, so they gave to those who had need. It explicitly stated in Act 2:45 that they gave to anyone who had need. ANYONE. Not just friends and neighbors, but anyone. Their focus was on God, they didn't need stuff.
I must be honest, I am not an anti-materialistic guy. I like stuff. I'm somewhat of a collector of stuff. Not a hoarder, mind you, a COLLECTOR. But I also believe if I have stuff, and others need it, or want to borrow it, they can. I personally don't like to borrow lawn equipment from people, but that is jsut because I tend to break lawn equipment at a terrifying rate. But I will freely loan to others what they need.
Are you generous with your time? Would your kids/spouse/family agree with your answer? Are you genreous with your skills? Think about the last time you used your talents to aid another person.
Generosity is not just about giving away cash. We tend to go there first, but generosity is, as it was for the early church, about having an available life. Whether that meant giving of time, money, talent, or whatever was needed. Would those who know you think you are available to them, open to them, or do you shut yourself down because it is dangerous or an inconvenience?
Openness is the mark of generosity.
Addendum: I have since been informed that the church I mentioned has since re-opened their church pantry and had tremendous support for it. See, MOST people in a church are very generous- they just need to be the ones at business meetings.
I think my faith in church died a little that night. Not that the reasons for closing it weren't valid, at least in some cases. We did need to be safer about it, there were a lot of hitchhikers that came through this town, and it's just good safety to have a couple people to escort these folks down. Yes, people did take advantage of it, but then, that's not an excuse for ceasing generosity. The Bible asks if we wouldn't rather be taken advantage of for the sake of Christ.
In the years since that night, I've grown increasingly angry over the ways churches spend the money and manpower they get. College Station and Bryan have numerous multimillion dollar church facilities. Some of these churches do an incredible amount of giving to the community and the world in need. One church here has done a great deal of stuff for the Haiti earthquake vicitms. But there are others that just seem to build for themselves. It's not bad to need to build, it means more people are coming to Christ (I hope). But why not start sending people out to areas that need the gospel, starting new churches there.
But that's being unfair to the churches as a whole. Every church I have ever known has some very generous and giving people. Probably more of them than the stingy, miserly Mr. Potters (reaching back to It's a Wonderful Life for my favorite money grubbing bad guy reference- and I have definitely known some of them). See, it only takes a few people to corrupt the bunch. One Scrooge can make a community see a hundred Cratchetts as not being generous. So what do you do?
Are we as individuals generous or stingy? I'm not just talking about giving to the church, I'm talking about giving to those in need. I know a lot of people who give religiously (he he) to their church, but wouldn't hand a starving man a dollar on the street. Is that generosity?
I know times are hard, but can you remember the last time you gave someone a helping hand? What about the last time you gave your time to someone? Loaned them a tool they needed? Or a book they wanted? Generosity is not just about giving money, but about how you are with all your possessions. It boils down to if you view the things you have as yours or God's.
The Acts church viewed their stuff as God's, so they gave to those who had need. It explicitly stated in Act 2:45 that they gave to anyone who had need. ANYONE. Not just friends and neighbors, but anyone. Their focus was on God, they didn't need stuff.
I must be honest, I am not an anti-materialistic guy. I like stuff. I'm somewhat of a collector of stuff. Not a hoarder, mind you, a COLLECTOR. But I also believe if I have stuff, and others need it, or want to borrow it, they can. I personally don't like to borrow lawn equipment from people, but that is jsut because I tend to break lawn equipment at a terrifying rate. But I will freely loan to others what they need.
Are you generous with your time? Would your kids/spouse/family agree with your answer? Are you genreous with your skills? Think about the last time you used your talents to aid another person.
Generosity is not just about giving away cash. We tend to go there first, but generosity is, as it was for the early church, about having an available life. Whether that meant giving of time, money, talent, or whatever was needed. Would those who know you think you are available to them, open to them, or do you shut yourself down because it is dangerous or an inconvenience?
Openness is the mark of generosity.
Addendum: I have since been informed that the church I mentioned has since re-opened their church pantry and had tremendous support for it. See, MOST people in a church are very generous- they just need to be the ones at business meetings.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Walls, or How to Kill a Church
I'd love to blame my wife, Kristin, for us commonly watching HGTV, but to be honest, I like it, too. Especially the shows where people are looking to buy a house. Maybe it's the curiosity of wanting to see what's inside of houses, or maybe it's some sort of weird need to get angry at people who state a hard-line budget and then break it by tens of thousands of dollars.
One thing I've noticed is that people really want good flow to the house, which often results in the 'open floor plan.' Basically, there are a lot fewer walls. I too, like this style. I need me some walls around my bedroom and bathroom, but I would love being able to see the TV in the den from the kitchen. The out-to-impress real estate agents on the show talk a lot about the freedom and the air flow and the lighting- I just like the openness.
Walls are important parts of architecture- they hold up the roof, and they provide privacy. They also insulate and keep us warm. Not being in construction, that's all I've got. Walls in churches, however, can be a problem. There are still times when walls are good- to protect integrity and defend against the intrusion the termites we know as sin- but often, these same good walls are corrupted and used to divide and kill needed openness amongst us.
Personality Walls
Definitely the most common wall, seeing as how we all have one. Don't think you do? Well, guess what? Denial is one you're building right now. (Quick aside: telling someone they are in denial is the single best way to win an argument. They can't deny it because, well, that's being in denial. That's not what I'm doing here, though---wait, that's denial. Crap) Humor is another wall we put up. (Oh, for crying out loud, I can't win.) We hide genuine feelings behind self deprecation or sarcasm. We pretend to know things we don't- aka posers- so we don't feel less than the others. We put on a busy persona so people think we are a hard worker, when we are really just running from spending time alone with God. We refuse to show emotion because "real men/big girls don't cry." We play the roles others have come to expect of us, even when we have genuinely changed. It's hard to put our real selves out there, because if it is rejected, they are rejecting you totally. The Wall of Personality must come down, as scary as that may be.
Group Walls
Every group has an inner group. A clique. Again, sometimes this wall is necessary as it builds a deeper connection for those in it. Too many of these, or a connection too impenetrable, and new people feel excluded and left out. Inside jokes are funny to insiders, but a reminder that you are 'out' to an outsider. Inner groups develop their own language (see: Christianity's Churchspeak). Those non-fluent are lost and left out. I think a key to tearing down Group Walls is to not put them up when a large gathering takes place. Small groups are great and appropriate place to put up Walls. Attenders need to feel safe, and there should be a bit of work to earn trust if you are that committed. But when the larger, overall group gathers- which is when new folks tend to drop in- the Group Walls must be lowered, if not completely removed.
Cultural Walls
Christian Book Stores, Christian Music, Christian Movies, Christian Coffee Houses, Christian T-shirts, or Barriers to the Rest of the World, as I like to call them. We steal the ideas of Madison Avenue Advertising, slap a Christian-ised version of it on a piece of cloth and sell if for $25. Then we proudly march around with with our "Got Jesus?" or "iWorship" shirt on. And people hate us. Because we are trying to set ourselves apart from them, and subtlety say we are better than them. The Irony is we stole our 'creative' idea from them and did a poor job of it. We also build our walls against culture under the guise of holiness- keeping sin out. So we don't go places 'sinners' hang out. Like bars, dance halls, regular book stores, R-rated movies, and, most often, our neighbor's home. We draw this line and say we won't go there or do that- and if you struggle with something, it's the right line to draw- but too often it is more a line to keep them out, than to keep us in. I really think we have all these Christian places and things not to have places for Christians to feel safe and welcomed, but to have places that non-Christians don't.
There are so many walls, and so little time. Yes, we need boundaries. They are healthy and they are often important to holiness, which we strive for. But we must not hide behind these walls because we fear being truly known, fear being having our group dynamic changed, or fear being 'invaded' by the outside world. The early church had no walls. Literally. They met in courtyards and on mountains and in fields. But the believers were also together and had everything in common. (Acts 2:44) They shared their lives, their food, their time, their possessions, and their compassion.
Let's advocate an "Open Floor Plan Church," where the flow is natural and open, the view is clear, and the connection is enabled.
One thing I've noticed is that people really want good flow to the house, which often results in the 'open floor plan.' Basically, there are a lot fewer walls. I too, like this style. I need me some walls around my bedroom and bathroom, but I would love being able to see the TV in the den from the kitchen. The out-to-impress real estate agents on the show talk a lot about the freedom and the air flow and the lighting- I just like the openness.
Walls are important parts of architecture- they hold up the roof, and they provide privacy. They also insulate and keep us warm. Not being in construction, that's all I've got. Walls in churches, however, can be a problem. There are still times when walls are good- to protect integrity and defend against the intrusion the termites we know as sin- but often, these same good walls are corrupted and used to divide and kill needed openness amongst us.
Personality Walls
Definitely the most common wall, seeing as how we all have one. Don't think you do? Well, guess what? Denial is one you're building right now. (Quick aside: telling someone they are in denial is the single best way to win an argument. They can't deny it because, well, that's being in denial. That's not what I'm doing here, though---wait, that's denial. Crap) Humor is another wall we put up. (Oh, for crying out loud, I can't win.) We hide genuine feelings behind self deprecation or sarcasm. We pretend to know things we don't- aka posers- so we don't feel less than the others. We put on a busy persona so people think we are a hard worker, when we are really just running from spending time alone with God. We refuse to show emotion because "real men/big girls don't cry." We play the roles others have come to expect of us, even when we have genuinely changed. It's hard to put our real selves out there, because if it is rejected, they are rejecting you totally. The Wall of Personality must come down, as scary as that may be.
Group Walls
Every group has an inner group. A clique. Again, sometimes this wall is necessary as it builds a deeper connection for those in it. Too many of these, or a connection too impenetrable, and new people feel excluded and left out. Inside jokes are funny to insiders, but a reminder that you are 'out' to an outsider. Inner groups develop their own language (see: Christianity's Churchspeak). Those non-fluent are lost and left out. I think a key to tearing down Group Walls is to not put them up when a large gathering takes place. Small groups are great and appropriate place to put up Walls. Attenders need to feel safe, and there should be a bit of work to earn trust if you are that committed. But when the larger, overall group gathers- which is when new folks tend to drop in- the Group Walls must be lowered, if not completely removed.
Cultural Walls
Christian Book Stores, Christian Music, Christian Movies, Christian Coffee Houses, Christian T-shirts, or Barriers to the Rest of the World, as I like to call them. We steal the ideas of Madison Avenue Advertising, slap a Christian-ised version of it on a piece of cloth and sell if for $25. Then we proudly march around with with our "Got Jesus?" or "iWorship" shirt on. And people hate us. Because we are trying to set ourselves apart from them, and subtlety say we are better than them. The Irony is we stole our 'creative' idea from them and did a poor job of it. We also build our walls against culture under the guise of holiness- keeping sin out. So we don't go places 'sinners' hang out. Like bars, dance halls, regular book stores, R-rated movies, and, most often, our neighbor's home. We draw this line and say we won't go there or do that- and if you struggle with something, it's the right line to draw- but too often it is more a line to keep them out, than to keep us in. I really think we have all these Christian places and things not to have places for Christians to feel safe and welcomed, but to have places that non-Christians don't.
There are so many walls, and so little time. Yes, we need boundaries. They are healthy and they are often important to holiness, which we strive for. But we must not hide behind these walls because we fear being truly known, fear being having our group dynamic changed, or fear being 'invaded' by the outside world. The early church had no walls. Literally. They met in courtyards and on mountains and in fields. But the believers were also together and had everything in common. (Acts 2:44) They shared their lives, their food, their time, their possessions, and their compassion.
Let's advocate an "Open Floor Plan Church," where the flow is natural and open, the view is clear, and the connection is enabled.
Monday, April 19, 2010
What Happened to the Church?
In college, I was very involved in a ministry called the Baptist Student Ministry. We would gather for Bible Studies, for worship through music , for dinner. We would spend time together outside the walls of the building, many of us became roommates in our years at A&M. We would talk as much about theology as we did about Aggie football (back when it was, you know, good). They were people I could share secrets with, people who would share advice and ask it in return. People I trusted my life to. Running into them on a trek across campus would bring us mutual smiles, and a conversation to follow.
I was repeatedly informed that the BSM, as we called it, was not meant to be our church, so go find one.
I tried numerous churches. Many of them looked the same, with different music and slightly different styles of teaching. I would stick with one for a while, but the connection just never seemed to be there. Some of these churches had huge college ministries, but there were already developed groups within these ministries, and the church at large had little to do with the students. I eventually found a church that I loved, stuck with it and ended landing an internship and ultimately being an interim youth and college guy there.
From there I went into the ministry and served with several churches. Each one was a lot like the ones I went to in college, again with a difference in teaching and music styles. But I noticed a trend. Even though the churches I served in were in small towns, that deeper sense of community I felt at the BSM was not there. Sure, they knew each other, maybe a little too well, but it never went deep when it came to their faith. It became a very big problem for me.
See, I had seen Acts 2:42-47 in action, not with the churches I served, but with that group of college believers that lived with, learned with, grew with. We prayed deeply with each other, where most churches I knew of went through their weekly list and that was it. We talked about God and the Bible at a depth greater than what I got at seminary, the churches I knew talked about the high school teams with the proficiency of ESPN announcers. About twenty of my BSM friends drove an hour and a half to my Dad's funeral ( a man they had never met), most churches would drive in their casserole.
I'm not saying these things that churches do are bad- but they are far less than best.
It wasn't until probably four or five years after I graduated college that I really understood why I easily loved the BSM, and struggled to love the churches I attended. There was an organic nature to what we did as college students. We met together out of hunger, desire, passion, and genuine love for Christ and each other- that was ALL that drew us together. Many churches are drawn together because of these things, too, but they are in addition to family tradition, convenience and preference of styles.
Acts 2 tells us that the early church was birthed out of an awesome shared experience that brought people of a multitude of nations together. They came to know Christ, and all their differences faded into a commonality of love for Him. I saw a glimpse of that as a college student, and I strive and pray to see that again with our church today. And I don't think that any church is too far gone to get back to that- if they want to take the risk of letting each other in.
The deepest community of believers I have ever known was in my life ten years ago. What about you, when did you know true fellowship, true connection and belonging with other believers? I want to know that again, but deeper, longer, truer. What about you?
I was repeatedly informed that the BSM, as we called it, was not meant to be our church, so go find one.
I tried numerous churches. Many of them looked the same, with different music and slightly different styles of teaching. I would stick with one for a while, but the connection just never seemed to be there. Some of these churches had huge college ministries, but there were already developed groups within these ministries, and the church at large had little to do with the students. I eventually found a church that I loved, stuck with it and ended landing an internship and ultimately being an interim youth and college guy there.
From there I went into the ministry and served with several churches. Each one was a lot like the ones I went to in college, again with a difference in teaching and music styles. But I noticed a trend. Even though the churches I served in were in small towns, that deeper sense of community I felt at the BSM was not there. Sure, they knew each other, maybe a little too well, but it never went deep when it came to their faith. It became a very big problem for me.
See, I had seen Acts 2:42-47 in action, not with the churches I served, but with that group of college believers that lived with, learned with, grew with. We prayed deeply with each other, where most churches I knew of went through their weekly list and that was it. We talked about God and the Bible at a depth greater than what I got at seminary, the churches I knew talked about the high school teams with the proficiency of ESPN announcers. About twenty of my BSM friends drove an hour and a half to my Dad's funeral ( a man they had never met), most churches would drive in their casserole.
I'm not saying these things that churches do are bad- but they are far less than best.
It wasn't until probably four or five years after I graduated college that I really understood why I easily loved the BSM, and struggled to love the churches I attended. There was an organic nature to what we did as college students. We met together out of hunger, desire, passion, and genuine love for Christ and each other- that was ALL that drew us together. Many churches are drawn together because of these things, too, but they are in addition to family tradition, convenience and preference of styles.
Acts 2 tells us that the early church was birthed out of an awesome shared experience that brought people of a multitude of nations together. They came to know Christ, and all their differences faded into a commonality of love for Him. I saw a glimpse of that as a college student, and I strive and pray to see that again with our church today. And I don't think that any church is too far gone to get back to that- if they want to take the risk of letting each other in.
The deepest community of believers I have ever known was in my life ten years ago. What about you, when did you know true fellowship, true connection and belonging with other believers? I want to know that again, but deeper, longer, truer. What about you?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
It's Not My Problem
So I was just walking in downtown Bryan to get our office mail. I do this primarily because I need the change of scenery from what my regular four walls of dreariness provide. But, it has been beautiful the last few days, and the temps aren't too bad right now. It is a bit windy for this part of Texas, though.
So I'm walking, feeling the wind and tiny drops of rain that evaporate as soon as they hit me when I notice something fluttering in the gusts. Apparently, a bunch of circulars for Sears were lost in the street and were being scattered by the overly gusty wind. Some were in the street, others right in my path. I stepped over them and kept walking. "It's not my problem," I thought.
I'd walked a few more steps when I felt as though someone inside me was saying, "Then whose problem is it, if not yours?" It's one of those slow motion movie moments where I'm still moving, but this dialogue is going by in my head at lightning speed. I thought of the city workers, who would pick it up, but hey wouldn't be down there to do something so small until the papers were long gone. My fellow citizens could do it, but they weren't right then. Store owners also might be motivated to keep their storefronts neat, but the rate these things were blowing they didn't sit long enough in one place to be a real nuisance. As this lightning round ended, I realized that no one else would deal with this problem- but I saw it as a problem, and there was nothing preventing me from picking up at least the stuff on the sidewalk. I was not darting in front of traffic, however.
So every paper that crossed my path, I picked up and found a trash can for. And I began to think about how often we say, "It's not my problem." I'm not talking about litter and environmental stuff here, though that is part of this. No, I mean how often do we see someone in need and think that we don't have to intervene? I know there have often been times when I have seen a friend or co-worker have to do something unpleasant, and my thought has been, "I'm glad it is them and not me." How often do we see someone clearly struggle with big questions, life and eternity altering questions, and we do everything we can to avoid making eye contact lest they engage with us. How often have you watched your spouse do the dishes or the laundry and quietly slumped down on the couch or pretended not to hear their call for help? No one? Just me?
What is wrong with us a people, and as a society, is that we have an "It's not my problem," mentality. We have a government welfare system because somewhere along the way people and institutions that used to take care of people stopped. Whether it was because they couldn't (hello, Great Depression) or because they wouldn't doesn't matter. When prosperity returned, generosity didn't. You may protest, "But Chad, I'm in need, too. I live paycheck to paycheck, how can I help when I have nothing left to give?" You know what, I'm there, too. But why does generosity HAVE to materialistic? Give your time, your attention, your physical aid. I would love to give more money to my church, to missionaries I know, local aid groups, to things like Haiti relief, but I don't have money. What I do have is the ability to pray, to spend a Saturday morning at a food pantry, or simply listen when a friend has a crappy day/week/month.
The fact is, too many times we step over a broken, hurting person on our way somewhere, because "It's not our problem." Let the government, the mission, the chur-(Wait, I'm the church), the philanthropists deal with them. We are not Good Samaritans, but priests and Levites too busy or unconcerned to stop and help the bleeding man. We are holy, and do not want to be defiled. We are righteous, and do not want to be seen with sinners.
I picked up those papers because they became my problem. What changed was not the circumstance, or the amount of papers, or the reward for picking them up. What changed was my perspective. Something bothered me, and I set about making it right. I didn't ask someone else to do it for me, I didn't wait for the government to fix it, and I didn't petition a church committee to see it done. I saw a need and addressed it.
What is "Not your problem?" It is time to make it your problem, and do something about it.
So I'm walking, feeling the wind and tiny drops of rain that evaporate as soon as they hit me when I notice something fluttering in the gusts. Apparently, a bunch of circulars for Sears were lost in the street and were being scattered by the overly gusty wind. Some were in the street, others right in my path. I stepped over them and kept walking. "It's not my problem," I thought.
I'd walked a few more steps when I felt as though someone inside me was saying, "Then whose problem is it, if not yours?" It's one of those slow motion movie moments where I'm still moving, but this dialogue is going by in my head at lightning speed. I thought of the city workers, who would pick it up, but hey wouldn't be down there to do something so small until the papers were long gone. My fellow citizens could do it, but they weren't right then. Store owners also might be motivated to keep their storefronts neat, but the rate these things were blowing they didn't sit long enough in one place to be a real nuisance. As this lightning round ended, I realized that no one else would deal with this problem- but I saw it as a problem, and there was nothing preventing me from picking up at least the stuff on the sidewalk. I was not darting in front of traffic, however.
So every paper that crossed my path, I picked up and found a trash can for. And I began to think about how often we say, "It's not my problem." I'm not talking about litter and environmental stuff here, though that is part of this. No, I mean how often do we see someone in need and think that we don't have to intervene? I know there have often been times when I have seen a friend or co-worker have to do something unpleasant, and my thought has been, "I'm glad it is them and not me." How often do we see someone clearly struggle with big questions, life and eternity altering questions, and we do everything we can to avoid making eye contact lest they engage with us. How often have you watched your spouse do the dishes or the laundry and quietly slumped down on the couch or pretended not to hear their call for help? No one? Just me?
What is wrong with us a people, and as a society, is that we have an "It's not my problem," mentality. We have a government welfare system because somewhere along the way people and institutions that used to take care of people stopped. Whether it was because they couldn't (hello, Great Depression) or because they wouldn't doesn't matter. When prosperity returned, generosity didn't. You may protest, "But Chad, I'm in need, too. I live paycheck to paycheck, how can I help when I have nothing left to give?" You know what, I'm there, too. But why does generosity HAVE to materialistic? Give your time, your attention, your physical aid. I would love to give more money to my church, to missionaries I know, local aid groups, to things like Haiti relief, but I don't have money. What I do have is the ability to pray, to spend a Saturday morning at a food pantry, or simply listen when a friend has a crappy day/week/month.
The fact is, too many times we step over a broken, hurting person on our way somewhere, because "It's not our problem." Let the government, the mission, the chur-(Wait, I'm the church), the philanthropists deal with them. We are not Good Samaritans, but priests and Levites too busy or unconcerned to stop and help the bleeding man. We are holy, and do not want to be defiled. We are righteous, and do not want to be seen with sinners.
I picked up those papers because they became my problem. What changed was not the circumstance, or the amount of papers, or the reward for picking them up. What changed was my perspective. Something bothered me, and I set about making it right. I didn't ask someone else to do it for me, I didn't wait for the government to fix it, and I didn't petition a church committee to see it done. I saw a need and addressed it.
What is "Not your problem?" It is time to make it your problem, and do something about it.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Where Do We Go From Here?
When we first started the Gate here in College Station, I was meeting pretty often with another local pastor. He told me of a church that had attempted to do much the same thing we were doing, but after a few years, their sponsor church pulled funding, and they were left wondering what to do. They felt very strongly that God had called them to serve here, and to reach the students. They had been reaching people, but they weren't as successful as their parent church wanted them to be. I was told that they were asking the question of "Where do we go from here?"
Most of the time, when I hear that question, it is asked after some sort of tragedy, or failure, some rug-pulled-out-from-under-you moment. The question just always carries an air of confusion with it that seems best fit to not so good moments.
What if we are asking the question in the wrong way? It is a great question simply because it begins to motivate us to survive and pull ourselves back up to our feet. Maybe it should not be a question asked when someone dies, or we lose a job, or fail a test. It doesn't have to be a question asked out of despair- what if it is a question asked out of a deep sense of hope and excitement?
I have always talked about three key questions we need to ask ourselves- this being one of them.
Where Have I Been?
We are who we have grown to be. Our memories, our experiences, victories and yes, our scars, shape our identity. But since I've kinda beat this horse to death and back lately, I'll move on.
Where Am I Going?/Where Do I Go From Here?
We need vision, and we need it badly. Proverbs 29:18 says "Where there is no revelation, the people cast off restraint; but blessed is he who keeps the law." Without vision, we are anarchy, uncontrolled, un-apologetically hedonistic- we are animals. Vision is focus. And vision has become a church buzz-word in last decade. Sad to say, it seems it is often used to describe the type of programming the church offers. I've seen and known pastors whose vision is solely based upon the book they just read or seminar they just attended. These are good things, in and of themselves, but where is the personal vision for the people they serve? Or for themselves? Why stop at the leadership? The people need a vision for themselves and for the church they are the hands and feet for. Too many times I see churches with a visionary leader, but not churches of visionaries. Where are YOU going? Because your direction and your church's direction are tied together. You, after all, are the church.
Who Am I?
Identity. We can't know it until we remember from whence we came and determine where we intend to go. So much of our life is spent trying to find that out. The truth is, identity is not static. Sure, you will always have some things at your core, but politics, outlooks, some of your personality, preferences, and yes, even your religious views can and will change over the span of your life. In high school, I was a single, argumentative, arrogant, competitive, and intellectual. Now, I'm married.
So the truth is that our identity is tied to where we are going. We need to know not necessarily the end destination, we just need the vision for the next step. But we NEED vision. I have a vision for where our church will end up, where I personally want to be in a few years, but both of those, in order to happen, must begin with a vision for tomorrow. And a vision of tomorrow begins with looking at yesterday and today and asking, "Where do I go from here?"
Most of the time, when I hear that question, it is asked after some sort of tragedy, or failure, some rug-pulled-out-from-under-you moment. The question just always carries an air of confusion with it that seems best fit to not so good moments.
What if we are asking the question in the wrong way? It is a great question simply because it begins to motivate us to survive and pull ourselves back up to our feet. Maybe it should not be a question asked when someone dies, or we lose a job, or fail a test. It doesn't have to be a question asked out of despair- what if it is a question asked out of a deep sense of hope and excitement?
I have always talked about three key questions we need to ask ourselves- this being one of them.
Where Have I Been?
We are who we have grown to be. Our memories, our experiences, victories and yes, our scars, shape our identity. But since I've kinda beat this horse to death and back lately, I'll move on.
Where Am I Going?/Where Do I Go From Here?
We need vision, and we need it badly. Proverbs 29:18 says "Where there is no revelation, the people cast off restraint; but blessed is he who keeps the law." Without vision, we are anarchy, uncontrolled, un-apologetically hedonistic- we are animals. Vision is focus. And vision has become a church buzz-word in last decade. Sad to say, it seems it is often used to describe the type of programming the church offers. I've seen and known pastors whose vision is solely based upon the book they just read or seminar they just attended. These are good things, in and of themselves, but where is the personal vision for the people they serve? Or for themselves? Why stop at the leadership? The people need a vision for themselves and for the church they are the hands and feet for. Too many times I see churches with a visionary leader, but not churches of visionaries. Where are YOU going? Because your direction and your church's direction are tied together. You, after all, are the church.
Who Am I?
Identity. We can't know it until we remember from whence we came and determine where we intend to go. So much of our life is spent trying to find that out. The truth is, identity is not static. Sure, you will always have some things at your core, but politics, outlooks, some of your personality, preferences, and yes, even your religious views can and will change over the span of your life. In high school, I was a single, argumentative, arrogant, competitive, and intellectual. Now, I'm married.
So the truth is that our identity is tied to where we are going. We need to know not necessarily the end destination, we just need the vision for the next step. But we NEED vision. I have a vision for where our church will end up, where I personally want to be in a few years, but both of those, in order to happen, must begin with a vision for tomorrow. And a vision of tomorrow begins with looking at yesterday and today and asking, "Where do I go from here?"
Monday, April 12, 2010
Have We Lost Our Way?
The other day, I was driving and ran into stalled traffic. As I was on a relatively rural stretch of road, and was growing impatient and hungry, I found a nearby side road and assumed I could get around the traffic jam. Things were going good, until I saw a "No Outlet" sign, which I promptly ignored. The road kept going, so I didn't really give it much thought. Then it ended.
It was noon, so trying to judge which direction I was pointed was useless, and the only way to go, was back the way I came. For a moment, I felt lost. And still hungry.
If "Life is a Highway," then it stands to reason that sometimes we get a little lost. We take a shortcut, we want to sight-see a bit, we ignore the map (or for you modern-minded folks, turn off the GPS). Warning signs appear, which we ignore because there is not any indication that the sign is accurate. We drive on, maybe out of pride, until we can't go anymore. That is only if we're lucky. If we're not lucky, our shortcut through the brush leads us to be the first person to discover the Grand Canyon that no one knows about because we quickly fall to our death. Seriously, that thing comes out of nowhere.
You have a heart palpitation and you go to the doctor. Your car takes up smoking, you go to the mechanic. You notice something strange with your bank account, you call the bank. Signs warn us of these things, but what about on a more personal level. Do you notice you seem to be angrier, less in control of yourself, lying with more skill? What about relationships? Are there warning signs that maybe this relationship is not where it should be, or that certain people are not the best influences?
Do you find yourself less and less convicted over doing something wrong? These are the scary ones for me. Sometimes, I find myself inching closer and closer to the line of what I shouldn't be doing. All around, signs warn that there is "No Outlet," or that I'm reaching a point of no return. Yet because of pride or self control or impatience, I press on. It is as if I have crushed Jimeny Cricket under foot and pressed on. ( I find it interesting that the mascot for the conscience is an easily squished creature.) For the Christian, the Holy Spirit is ignored, and if ignored enough, we cease to even hear Him.
The truth is, when we take the shortcuts- be they to get around traffic, or earn money, or seek intimacy- we are saying we are too important to wait on what God is planning for us. See, had I waited about five more minutes, that traffic would have cleared up, as I found when I got back to where I started that day. But waiting on God is a lost art, that is, if we ever found it.
We-you me, the Church- have lost our way. We have taken the shortcuts of reading self-help books rather than seeking God's advice; of discipleship classes instead of actual, deep, hands on discipleship; of following another church's program instead of seeking our own vision for our church. We are called to wait upon God. It was what He asked of the disciples in Acts 1. He told them to stay in the city and wait for Him to send the Holy Spirit and then receive power. We cannot be 'microwave' followers of an 'oven' Christ.
Once we have lost our way, it may take time to find the path again. The place to begin is in learning to wait, and to wait with grace.
It was noon, so trying to judge which direction I was pointed was useless, and the only way to go, was back the way I came. For a moment, I felt lost. And still hungry.
If "Life is a Highway," then it stands to reason that sometimes we get a little lost. We take a shortcut, we want to sight-see a bit, we ignore the map (or for you modern-minded folks, turn off the GPS). Warning signs appear, which we ignore because there is not any indication that the sign is accurate. We drive on, maybe out of pride, until we can't go anymore. That is only if we're lucky. If we're not lucky, our shortcut through the brush leads us to be the first person to discover the Grand Canyon that no one knows about because we quickly fall to our death. Seriously, that thing comes out of nowhere.
You have a heart palpitation and you go to the doctor. Your car takes up smoking, you go to the mechanic. You notice something strange with your bank account, you call the bank. Signs warn us of these things, but what about on a more personal level. Do you notice you seem to be angrier, less in control of yourself, lying with more skill? What about relationships? Are there warning signs that maybe this relationship is not where it should be, or that certain people are not the best influences?
Do you find yourself less and less convicted over doing something wrong? These are the scary ones for me. Sometimes, I find myself inching closer and closer to the line of what I shouldn't be doing. All around, signs warn that there is "No Outlet," or that I'm reaching a point of no return. Yet because of pride or self control or impatience, I press on. It is as if I have crushed Jimeny Cricket under foot and pressed on. ( I find it interesting that the mascot for the conscience is an easily squished creature.) For the Christian, the Holy Spirit is ignored, and if ignored enough, we cease to even hear Him.
The truth is, when we take the shortcuts- be they to get around traffic, or earn money, or seek intimacy- we are saying we are too important to wait on what God is planning for us. See, had I waited about five more minutes, that traffic would have cleared up, as I found when I got back to where I started that day. But waiting on God is a lost art, that is, if we ever found it.
We-you me, the Church- have lost our way. We have taken the shortcuts of reading self-help books rather than seeking God's advice; of discipleship classes instead of actual, deep, hands on discipleship; of following another church's program instead of seeking our own vision for our church. We are called to wait upon God. It was what He asked of the disciples in Acts 1. He told them to stay in the city and wait for Him to send the Holy Spirit and then receive power. We cannot be 'microwave' followers of an 'oven' Christ.
Once we have lost our way, it may take time to find the path again. The place to begin is in learning to wait, and to wait with grace.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate
I started reading an article on net neutrality the other day. Within a paragraph my eyes glazed over. Lots of words that I didn't understand passed in front of my eyes before finding a paragraph that was written in human rather than some sort of hybrid tech/legal language. This was not the first time I had encountered a comprehension road block due to language.
Ca 1996
The family and I went to buy some firewood. Dad encountered a worker who spoke only Spanish. Since I was well versed with a semester of high school Spanish, Dad turned to me. I managed to ask him, "Donde es boss-man?" This clearly told him I was fluent, and so he unleashed a fast torrent of his native tongue. Aaaaand failure.
Spring Break 2001
On a trip to Germany with some college friends for mission work, I was constantly approached by the Germans and spoken to as though I were one of them. Maybe it was the black leather jacket and five o'clock shadow from our luggage getting lost that threw them off. I did manage to learn to say "Vo ist de wasser closet?" (which is where is the water closet, because "Vo ist de badenzimmer-bathroom-?" is apparently a hilarious faux pas.)
Anytime Computer People Talk to Me About Computers
C++, API, BASIC, Unix, Root. If it's more complex than keyboard, mouse, or screen- use words that a child could understand. Otherwise, the glazed eyes will return faster than you can say 'motherboard.' Of course it goes both ways...
Comic Books
I try to explain the concept of Green Lantern, or why there have actually been five (or six, depending which series you count) Robins, and my wife goes to her happy place.
Ever since the Tower of Babel and God scrambling our language to keep from trying to overthrow Him, language has been a barrier. More than just the separation caused languages like Swahili and French, it is also the barrier between the way men and women communicate, the way people of different backgrounds and jobs communicate.
The way the Church and the outside world communicate.
I call it "church-speak," and it is very divisive. We have words that we use casually, and frequently and assume others know what they mean. The words themselves are often not the problem, it is the fact that their true meaning has often gotten lost in a fog of traditions and years of mis- and re-interpretations. These are good words, Biblical words. So in an effort to help those who may not understand them- and I believe there are a number of Church-goers who don't understand them, either- here is a brief glossary of terms as I use them.
Salvation- Jesus offers to forgive us of our sins, thus allowing to have a relationship with God starting now and continuing after our mortal bodies die.
Sin- Mistakes we make, anytime we do something that does not line up with what God expects of us, as He lays it out in the Bible.
Sanctification- The process that begins with salvation of cleansing our lives of sin. We are not perfect at salvation, and God continues to work in us through sanctification.
Fellowship- The activities and act of believers living life together, praying for each other, helping each other and being involved with each other. A casserole dish is not a requirement despite the fact that many believe this. And it is not confined to a hall.
Redeemed/Redemption- Jesus traded His life for ours. He didn't deserve to be punished- He had no sin. But we did, so He gave himself for us, and thus gave us value.
Holiness- To be set apart. Untouched by sin and evil. This does not mean that we stay away from sinful people or things- we just need to remain untouched by it. We are reserved for God, holiness is giving ourselves totally to Him, and not our own desires and plans.
So, there you go. A few words I use often and what I mean when I use them. Hopefully clarity will ensue when we have these little conversations. And for those folks that were wondering, the five Robins are Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown (very briefly before Drake took back over), Damian Wayne. The sixth was Carrie Kelly, from the apocryphal Dark Knight Returns. Now, we understand each other.
Ca 1996
The family and I went to buy some firewood. Dad encountered a worker who spoke only Spanish. Since I was well versed with a semester of high school Spanish, Dad turned to me. I managed to ask him, "Donde es boss-man?" This clearly told him I was fluent, and so he unleashed a fast torrent of his native tongue. Aaaaand failure.
Spring Break 2001
On a trip to Germany with some college friends for mission work, I was constantly approached by the Germans and spoken to as though I were one of them. Maybe it was the black leather jacket and five o'clock shadow from our luggage getting lost that threw them off. I did manage to learn to say "Vo ist de wasser closet?" (which is where is the water closet, because "Vo ist de badenzimmer-bathroom-?" is apparently a hilarious faux pas.)
Anytime Computer People Talk to Me About Computers
C++, API, BASIC, Unix, Root. If it's more complex than keyboard, mouse, or screen- use words that a child could understand. Otherwise, the glazed eyes will return faster than you can say 'motherboard.' Of course it goes both ways...
Comic Books
I try to explain the concept of Green Lantern, or why there have actually been five (or six, depending which series you count) Robins, and my wife goes to her happy place.
Ever since the Tower of Babel and God scrambling our language to keep from trying to overthrow Him, language has been a barrier. More than just the separation caused languages like Swahili and French, it is also the barrier between the way men and women communicate, the way people of different backgrounds and jobs communicate.
The way the Church and the outside world communicate.
I call it "church-speak," and it is very divisive. We have words that we use casually, and frequently and assume others know what they mean. The words themselves are often not the problem, it is the fact that their true meaning has often gotten lost in a fog of traditions and years of mis- and re-interpretations. These are good words, Biblical words. So in an effort to help those who may not understand them- and I believe there are a number of Church-goers who don't understand them, either- here is a brief glossary of terms as I use them.
Salvation- Jesus offers to forgive us of our sins, thus allowing to have a relationship with God starting now and continuing after our mortal bodies die.
Sin- Mistakes we make, anytime we do something that does not line up with what God expects of us, as He lays it out in the Bible.
Sanctification- The process that begins with salvation of cleansing our lives of sin. We are not perfect at salvation, and God continues to work in us through sanctification.
Fellowship- The activities and act of believers living life together, praying for each other, helping each other and being involved with each other. A casserole dish is not a requirement despite the fact that many believe this. And it is not confined to a hall.
Redeemed/Redemption- Jesus traded His life for ours. He didn't deserve to be punished- He had no sin. But we did, so He gave himself for us, and thus gave us value.
Holiness- To be set apart. Untouched by sin and evil. This does not mean that we stay away from sinful people or things- we just need to remain untouched by it. We are reserved for God, holiness is giving ourselves totally to Him, and not our own desires and plans.
So, there you go. A few words I use often and what I mean when I use them. Hopefully clarity will ensue when we have these little conversations. And for those folks that were wondering, the five Robins are Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown (very briefly before Drake took back over), Damian Wayne. The sixth was Carrie Kelly, from the apocryphal Dark Knight Returns. Now, we understand each other.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Bored of Lesser Worship
Sunday night, a small group gathered at our home for a non-traditional celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus. We sat around, talking mostly, making s'mores on the firepit, and briefly reading from John about Jesus' Easter evening appearance at the disciples home.
Jeremy and Angie had come to town to visit family, and they dropped in to join us. Jeremy had led worship for the Gate on a prior occasion, and I value his input on worship. So, I was a little surprised by our conversation regarding worship.
He made the comment that he thought modern worship was lacking something. That despite our increasingly skilled worship leaders, the advances were all in music. He wondered what happened to old stuff. Stuff like New Testament Church stuff. Like prayers for certain times of day. Like old, dare I say 'rituals,' that marked the young believers of Paul and Peter's day.
I have often thought about something similar- how if you are a music person, now is an awesome time for you to worship. Boundaries of what worship music is are being pushed creatively, old songs are given new life with roaring guitars and synthesized electronica. We don't do creeds, we don't do poetry, we don't do art. We don't pray during our services, except to open, close, or fill a gap in the music.
I love the current age of worship music, but Jeremy's comments made me realize something: I was growing bored with lesser worship.
The Gate struggles with this as well. We have music and message. We do try different things with the taking of Communion, and we have devoted times occassionally to solely praying. But we often find ourselves subtly aware of a rut forming around us.
I think there are a lot of people who feel the same way. Church is boring, not because it is not entertaining, but because it is not challenging. We fear boring people, so there is no 'dead air.' Art is not for everyone, so it is not used in worship outside the backgrounds on the screen- and artists feel left out. We don't teach people that the 'mundane' things we do are acts of worship, and tithing is a lost act.
We need to re-invigorate worship. One area we have tried to do this is in the area of the tithe, or offering.
"Churches always ask for money." This cliche rings true because no one- church leaders included- seems to understand that giving money is an act of worship. It is an act of saying we trust God to provide for us when we give. It is worship in that we are sacrificing. It is an act of worship in that we are distinguishing that the Lord is our god, not money. It is an act of worship that we are learing to have a giving heart, preparing us to be giving with each other.
We don't pass a plate, by the way. We have a beer mug at the back of the meeting area. We've resisted the urge to label it "Tips for Jesus." This isn't it, but you get the idea:
There is also worship for us in that the mug is a message in itself. Fill the mug with beer repeatedy and you get an ignoble purpose. Fill it with Jaegermeister and, well that goes beyond ignoble. But when this mug, for many an image of something less than holy, is used for collecting the offering, it is redeemed. We too, are often used for things less than holy, yet when filled with the Holy Spirit, we are redeemed- we are made worthy of God.
I'm going to paraphrase Jeremy here (OK put words in his mouth) but I think he would say that part of what is missing in today's worship is that much of it has lost deeper meaning. Time was that everything done in worship was a symbol, it pointed to something deeper. Our church forefathers were reminded by every thing they saw, every action they took part in, of something greater. Things were not done to fill the time alotted, they were done to remember Christ. Because of this, they never grew bored of lesser worship.
They were filled with Worship of the Greater.
Jeremy and Angie had come to town to visit family, and they dropped in to join us. Jeremy had led worship for the Gate on a prior occasion, and I value his input on worship. So, I was a little surprised by our conversation regarding worship.
He made the comment that he thought modern worship was lacking something. That despite our increasingly skilled worship leaders, the advances were all in music. He wondered what happened to old stuff. Stuff like New Testament Church stuff. Like prayers for certain times of day. Like old, dare I say 'rituals,' that marked the young believers of Paul and Peter's day.
I have often thought about something similar- how if you are a music person, now is an awesome time for you to worship. Boundaries of what worship music is are being pushed creatively, old songs are given new life with roaring guitars and synthesized electronica. We don't do creeds, we don't do poetry, we don't do art. We don't pray during our services, except to open, close, or fill a gap in the music.
I love the current age of worship music, but Jeremy's comments made me realize something: I was growing bored with lesser worship.
The Gate struggles with this as well. We have music and message. We do try different things with the taking of Communion, and we have devoted times occassionally to solely praying. But we often find ourselves subtly aware of a rut forming around us.
I think there are a lot of people who feel the same way. Church is boring, not because it is not entertaining, but because it is not challenging. We fear boring people, so there is no 'dead air.' Art is not for everyone, so it is not used in worship outside the backgrounds on the screen- and artists feel left out. We don't teach people that the 'mundane' things we do are acts of worship, and tithing is a lost act.
We need to re-invigorate worship. One area we have tried to do this is in the area of the tithe, or offering.
"Churches always ask for money." This cliche rings true because no one- church leaders included- seems to understand that giving money is an act of worship. It is an act of saying we trust God to provide for us when we give. It is worship in that we are sacrificing. It is an act of worship in that we are distinguishing that the Lord is our god, not money. It is an act of worship that we are learing to have a giving heart, preparing us to be giving with each other.
We don't pass a plate, by the way. We have a beer mug at the back of the meeting area. We've resisted the urge to label it "Tips for Jesus." This isn't it, but you get the idea:
There is also worship for us in that the mug is a message in itself. Fill the mug with beer repeatedy and you get an ignoble purpose. Fill it with Jaegermeister and, well that goes beyond ignoble. But when this mug, for many an image of something less than holy, is used for collecting the offering, it is redeemed. We too, are often used for things less than holy, yet when filled with the Holy Spirit, we are redeemed- we are made worthy of God.
I'm going to paraphrase Jeremy here (OK put words in his mouth) but I think he would say that part of what is missing in today's worship is that much of it has lost deeper meaning. Time was that everything done in worship was a symbol, it pointed to something deeper. Our church forefathers were reminded by every thing they saw, every action they took part in, of something greater. Things were not done to fill the time alotted, they were done to remember Christ. Because of this, they never grew bored of lesser worship.
They were filled with Worship of the Greater.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Why I Struggle with Easter
It happens to the best of us- Facebook status writer's block.
On a normal day, that's nothing. People assume you are too busy to write a witty remark, or you think yesterday's report was good enough for two days. But this past Friday and Sunday were not normal days. Status after status proclaimed that the day(s) was/were a day(s) of recognition for the death and Resurrection of Jesus.
And I had nothing.
Truth is, they are just days to me. I don't begrudge you for your excitement that you celebrate that day, but I really don't get all worked up about it. So, I don't post the traditional "He is Risen!"(C) or something. To me it would be insincere, and thus dishonest for me to post or bounce from person to person with a Joe Osteen type grin trying desperately to prove to everyone (and myself) that Sunday is a really a better day for me than Friday. Other than getting to sleep in, it's not much different.
I think there are a couple reasons why I feel this way. And to be honest, I'm not calling people out so much as I am struggling to find why I feel the way I do about that day, and why others do as well.
Commercialism
I actually have no problem with Egg Hunts, Cadbury Cream Eggs, and the inexplicable use of a bunny as the mascot. It really comes from the commercialization that comes from Christians. We spend so much time trying to 'sell' Easter Sunday. Maybe it's because we think that more people attend church on that day than others, so we put on a better service, amp up the entertainment value, put a little extra polish on the music and the message. We talk more about the resurrection and new life and empty tombs and the cross and things rising on that one weekend than we do for the rest of the year combined. Easter Sunday is like Super Bowl Sunday, Black Friday, and Election Day all rolled into one. Get'em there, sell them the message, and get them to make a choice. It comes across as commercialism to me because it seems we are selling a single event. Where is this excitement for Jesus the rest of the year.
Expectation
I'm expected to be extremely "Yay, Jesus!" that day. I mean, I really have to be extra happy, extra smiley, and I have to respond to "He is Risen!" with an equal to or greater than amount of gusto, "He is Risen, Indeed!" On Non- Christians go, "Dorks." What used to be a way for the ostracized and outlawed believers to identify themselves secretly to each other has in itself become something that ostracizes us on its own. Like much of our 'Church Speak,' it distances us form others who don't speak our language. I'm not advocating abandoning these truthful and relevant phrases, but that we not use them in a way to divide. When I look at and listen to believers who talk about God in church terms constantly, or only post scripture for their status updates or tweets, I again think that even though they are genuine in their comment, non-believers may think they are just meeting expectations. They never acknowledge their struggles, or their doubts, they seem too...perfect. And thus unrelatable to ordinary people. I never want to be accused of saying something just because it's expected of me, I want to say because I mean it, and in a way that says, "This is from me, in my words, from my heart." (I am not downing quoting scripture, merely the possibility that some people hide behind it to prevent the rest of us from knowing what is really going on with them.)
Everyday Resurrection
I am not saying this to appear super-spiritual, but every day is Resurrection Day to me. Everyday I am reminded that I couldn't follow Jesus' commands even if I was on a leash and looking for His bread crumbs. Everyday I am reminded He had to die for me because of this, and that because He didn't stay dead I can have hope of finding His life. I am daily confronted with the realization that I put him on that cross. Each day brings fresh evidence of His promise to return and make it all right. That Spring Sunday holds no other difference for me other than my kids search for bright eggs left by some strange cross-species bunny/chicken hybrid that is still a little creepy if you think about it. It is not special to me because each day is Resurrection day.
So, I hope I don't offend you with this, but this is my thinking. I don't hold you to agree with me, let alone force you to comply with my reasoning here. Truth be told, my feelings may be a total 180 by next year, but then, that is the nature of following Christ. He takes us places we would never go to learn things and see things we would never pursue. All to draw us closer to Him.
On a normal day, that's nothing. People assume you are too busy to write a witty remark, or you think yesterday's report was good enough for two days. But this past Friday and Sunday were not normal days. Status after status proclaimed that the day(s) was/were a day(s) of recognition for the death and Resurrection of Jesus.
And I had nothing.
Truth is, they are just days to me. I don't begrudge you for your excitement that you celebrate that day, but I really don't get all worked up about it. So, I don't post the traditional "He is Risen!"(C) or something. To me it would be insincere, and thus dishonest for me to post or bounce from person to person with a Joe Osteen type grin trying desperately to prove to everyone (and myself) that Sunday is a really a better day for me than Friday. Other than getting to sleep in, it's not much different.
I think there are a couple reasons why I feel this way. And to be honest, I'm not calling people out so much as I am struggling to find why I feel the way I do about that day, and why others do as well.
Commercialism
I actually have no problem with Egg Hunts, Cadbury Cream Eggs, and the inexplicable use of a bunny as the mascot. It really comes from the commercialization that comes from Christians. We spend so much time trying to 'sell' Easter Sunday. Maybe it's because we think that more people attend church on that day than others, so we put on a better service, amp up the entertainment value, put a little extra polish on the music and the message. We talk more about the resurrection and new life and empty tombs and the cross and things rising on that one weekend than we do for the rest of the year combined. Easter Sunday is like Super Bowl Sunday, Black Friday, and Election Day all rolled into one. Get'em there, sell them the message, and get them to make a choice. It comes across as commercialism to me because it seems we are selling a single event. Where is this excitement for Jesus the rest of the year.
Expectation
I'm expected to be extremely "Yay, Jesus!" that day. I mean, I really have to be extra happy, extra smiley, and I have to respond to "He is Risen!" with an equal to or greater than amount of gusto, "He is Risen, Indeed!" On Non- Christians go, "Dorks." What used to be a way for the ostracized and outlawed believers to identify themselves secretly to each other has in itself become something that ostracizes us on its own. Like much of our 'Church Speak,' it distances us form others who don't speak our language. I'm not advocating abandoning these truthful and relevant phrases, but that we not use them in a way to divide. When I look at and listen to believers who talk about God in church terms constantly, or only post scripture for their status updates or tweets, I again think that even though they are genuine in their comment, non-believers may think they are just meeting expectations. They never acknowledge their struggles, or their doubts, they seem too...perfect. And thus unrelatable to ordinary people. I never want to be accused of saying something just because it's expected of me, I want to say because I mean it, and in a way that says, "This is from me, in my words, from my heart." (I am not downing quoting scripture, merely the possibility that some people hide behind it to prevent the rest of us from knowing what is really going on with them.)
Everyday Resurrection
I am not saying this to appear super-spiritual, but every day is Resurrection Day to me. Everyday I am reminded that I couldn't follow Jesus' commands even if I was on a leash and looking for His bread crumbs. Everyday I am reminded He had to die for me because of this, and that because He didn't stay dead I can have hope of finding His life. I am daily confronted with the realization that I put him on that cross. Each day brings fresh evidence of His promise to return and make it all right. That Spring Sunday holds no other difference for me other than my kids search for bright eggs left by some strange cross-species bunny/chicken hybrid that is still a little creepy if you think about it. It is not special to me because each day is Resurrection day.
So, I hope I don't offend you with this, but this is my thinking. I don't hold you to agree with me, let alone force you to comply with my reasoning here. Truth be told, my feelings may be a total 180 by next year, but then, that is the nature of following Christ. He takes us places we would never go to learn things and see things we would never pursue. All to draw us closer to Him.
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