Fresh

I was out running errands this morning, when, as coming around a corner in Bryan, it hit me. It was the fresh smell that comes after a rain, one like the little shower we had an hour or so earlier. It came in through the AC vents, and just as I was beginning to appreciate it's pleasing aroma, I saw the distant thunderheads and deep blue clouds moving in from the south. Everything brightened in that moment for me. I rolled down the window to get a better smell of the freshness, and my mind began to roll back.

It's fitting, for me at least, that the first day of school for Aggie and Blinn students here in BCS begins with rain. My whole first semester was filled with rain. It seemed that every home game brought rain. But I was young and didn't care. I was free, and I used that freedom to stand in the rain with 80,000 other nuts and yell our lungs out. Close to half that 80,000 would be college students like I was, experiencing a newness and freshness to life. New doors open, new relationships being explored, an identity still ripe for the molding. I had dreams then. Dreams of family and jobs, and of changing the world. I was eager and ready to see the impact I could have. We would watch the promising Aggie Football Team dominate every team that dared step onto Kyle Field. We would watch as national powerhouse Nebraska, a recent National Champ, challenged us. But they hadn't counted on a freshman, a guy who went to my Fish Camp, named Jamar Toombs, who redefined what a college running back was. We watched as he carried 5-6 'Huskers for twenty yards and a touchdown. We saw a limitless future, for that team and for ourselves.

But Toombs had difficuties. A&M stopped winning. Bonfire fell. Dreams died. 9-11 changed the world in a way none of could have foreseen. We graduated and entered a cynical world that resisted our youthful fire and hope. Many of us gave in to cynicism. We were told 'That won't work' enough that we believed it. We gave up. And we fit in.

We became stale.

I am sure that most, if not all, students setting foot on their campus for the first time have a fresh view of life, a hope of better things. They want to make an impact, they want to change things.

I don't want to be their obstacle. I remember too vividly the elder folk that squashed my dreams, but not well enough those that supported them. Yet I find myself being the cynic, the negative. The stale and dreamless.

If you are a college student reading this- I challenge you to explore, to test, to live. Don't settle for our "No, it won't work," and don't EVER settle for "That's good enough." The world has enough sleepwalkers, don't join their ranks.

There is hope, though, for us. We sleepers have our moments. They come in the scent of rain on the air, the cool of the Fall in the wind, the notes of a long forgotten song that once made us dream. We're driving in our car, and we catch these moments, and we remember what it meant to be young and free and alive, with our futures and our dreams before us. In that moment, we can choose to ground ourselves in that moment with thoughts of taxes, and jobs and responsibilities--or we can dream again. Remember that we wanted to be more, to be better. We can reclaim 'fresh.'

I believe there is still hope for big dreams. Dreams of people uniting, seeking that Ultimate Dream, that Unseen One. Dreams of one generation waking another, joining together in a pursuit of something great.

In my car, the window rolled down to let the fresh rain scent wash over me, I remembered what it meant to be young. To dream, to break the walls of cynicism and hope again. I am charged with leading some of that generation of college students who still have the dream of changing the world. I must dream again. I must be 'fresh.'

Won't you join me?

Church Should be Dangerous

From my days as a youth minister, I remeber always having to get waivers signed. You know, just in case we broke your kid, we wouldn't be liable. We were concerned, and rightly so, with making sure that kids (and adults) were safe when we took trips or did activities of any sort. Church was a safe place.

Somehow, that has become a bad thing.

While I'm not advocating sprinkling broken glass over the floor, or leaving matches laying around your worship area, I do think Church needs to be a little more dangerous-- for Christians.

Think about believers in the Bible. They had to hide to worship. They had to sneak out of town. They often got tossed in the slammer. Many died. Church was not safe.

I spent some time in Europe, about a week, while I was in college. Their churches were fortresses, marble and stone cathedrals that looked just as prepared to repel enemy fire as Satan. Stepping inside them, one feels protected- it's no doubt why we call them sanctuaries. Here in America, we have some of these style churches, but most are fitted with pleasing carpets, and (somewhat) comfortable seating. The room should never feel to hot or cold, lest we lose the attention of the audience. Signs are often posted so people don't get lost, or accidently fall in the baptismal area. Church is safe, physically.

And sadly, it's even more safe Spiritually.

Don't get me wrong, I think people should feel safe in church, and those people that should feel safe are those that wanting to explore the idea of God. They should feel safe from judgment, safe from being left out, and safe from being called out and embarrased.

But those of us who follow Christ, we should be terrified.

Not an unfounded, phobic terror, but a holy terror. We ought to realize that whenever and where ever we gather in God's name is a dangerous place to be. We don't know what He will call us to, reveal to us, or do in our midst. Old Testament beleivers were terrified of the presence of God because they recognized the Holy, the set apart, altogether Other nature that is God. As followers of Christ, we now have confidence to enter God's presence, but that doesn't mean we should feel safe.

I've often heard it said that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will. Really? John the Baptist. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Jim Eliot. Peter. James. John. The rest of the disciples. All those martyrs in Fox Book of Martyrs. Jesus.

Clearly, they were safe, right?

We've come to expect that church will not expect too much of us. It is safe for us believers to go, because we've fulfilled our duty, surely He would ask no more than our attendance. He'd never ask us to risk our reputation, our job, or our life for Him.

Would He?

We should gather together in our faith communities and wonder if we will survive the encounter with God. 2 Corinthians 4 talks about us being Jars of Clay- brittle and easily destroyed, but containing a very powerful message. "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."

As believers, we are to put ourselves at risk for those who do not know Him. We must risk being wronged, ignored, mistreated, abused and even killed for them. We are to go where none have gone, speak to those whom no one has. We are to give ourselves over to death so that they may have life. When we gather, each time we should expect and be willing to give this to God.

We are not meant to be a safe people.

Living a Better Story

I know you've been there.

Standing in a line at Walmart, you spy one lane just openning. So do about twenty other people. Do you give up the safety of your lane for the hope of the other? You suddenly feel paralyzed with doubt.

Or, you're over half way through a book when you realize you hate it. But, you're committed and have to finish it. You feel trapped.

We commit ourselves to things all the time, caught up with excitement, hope- expectant of the promise this "Shiny New Thing" will bring to our lives. Time goes on and we lose sight of all the things that made that needed change seem so fantastic. We lie low in our rut of routine and habit. The glory of what could have been fades to a dull afterglow of a thing we almost did. But we're committed. And we feel trapped.

We've lost the plot.

I had a grand idea just over three years ago. "I want to start a church in a college town, reach out to those that other churches ignore or simply can't reach, and be where the people are. Oh, and I want to meet in a bar."

The early days were filled with dreams, good storylines building to something epic. It wasn't long before routine set in. Complacency grew pregnant and gave birth to apathy. Three years later, we're in a college town, we have a few people that seem to fit very well with us and not so well with others. And we're in a bar. We have some of the things we set out for, but I now feel trapped. It is as if my life has writer's block- fostered by my personal struggles as well as letting too many other people and events write my story. And by extension, in many ways I've let these other entities write the story of our church as well.

See, I don't think my story just affects me, nor does yours just affect you. Sure, I'm the lead in mine, and you're the lead in yours, but we play a role in each others. If my story is not all it can be, then neither will yours be. To differing degrees, because we are doing life together, we both end up in a rut. Trapped. Writer's blocked.

I really want to give myself points for realizing this problem I have. But these points do nothing to help me gain traction and pull out of the rut. From where I am, I still desire to see our church and my life impact others. I don't want to lead a sedentary church, so I can't be a sedentary person. I want to engage as many or more people outside the church than inside. I want to see people begin to pursue a relationship with a God I believe is bigger than my rut. I want to change things in my community, my church, and my family.

Right now, I just don't know how.

Enter the Living a Better Story Seminar. Donald Miller is putting this on in Portland, and I've really loved what he's had to say on this concept of Story. So I see there is a contest to win a trip up there, and I thought: "Hmm. What have I got to lose? Never been to Portland, maybe that will de-rut me."

In a conference about living a better story, I'd really hope to gain some insight on better crafting my character and specifically not letting other people and things write my story.

So, if by some case of random awesomeness, I were to win the contest, that would be cool. But, in the grand scheme of things, if I don't I still need to practice this idea of Living a Better Story. I truly believe that my wife, my kids, our church, my co-workers and even my community deserve for me to live a better life. If my life is 'ho-hum' and 'blah,' what reason does anyone have to look beyond me to see my reason for being.

God has given me life- I need not waste it.

For my sake, yours...and His.

www.donmilleris.com/conference

Living a Better Story Seminar from All Things Converge Podcast on Vimeo.

Wrong Righteousness

If you have any doubt that we live in a culture that esteems being right more than anything else, visit a messageboard or comment section on news articles. What used to be just opinions stated by well meaning people have instead became a campaign to prove our views right. If I post a comment on a comic book message board stating I am not a fan of a certain plot line, someone will most likely pipe in with 'facts' about why I am wrong and they are right to like it.

We've all got our opinions. We are blessed to be able to share them. But it seems that we can be content any longer with simply holding our opinions- we have to have to prove our opinion is the correct one. Why is that?

Maybe the answer lies in our self worth. It's the information age, so it stands to reason that information is the commodity we value most. And the top, gold standard of information is fact. The indisputable thing, the incontrovertable evidence that the holder of said fact is- in fact- right. And to be right is to be valuable, trusted, and often promoted. To be wrong is to be stupid, unreliable and often unemployed.

We don't admit we are wrong, even when caught being wrong. No, we hold onto the idea that we are still 'right' based on a multitude of reasons we have to explain for why it seems we are wrong, but are actually still right. Or that we are wrong and its somebody else's fault for that and we deserve immunity and a proxy reinstatement of our 'right-ness.'

Maybe it started with politicians who refused to acknowledge an error because an error meant no re-election. Maybe it came out of journalism's quest for the scoop. Probably it came from religion, where we need to be right or we go to some other belief system's version of Hell.

The problem with our pursuit of 'rightness' is that it is a pursuit of a kind of wrong righteousness. Righteousness being the act of being righteous, which is, according to Dictionary.com: 1. characterized by uprightness or morality: a righteous observance of the law.
2. morally right or justifiable: righteous indignation.
3. acting in an upright, moral way; virtuous: a righteous and godly person.

I think we have taken that first one, righteous observance of the law, and ignored the moral part. We keep the law, the letter of it, because it is right. Whether that law is from the Bible, the Torah, the Talmud, the Constitution, or the Encyclopedia of Star Wars Trivia. We keep the law because we want to be right, we want to be valuable. We, We, We.

True righteousness is not about being right in a factual sense. At least not totally. We need to do things that right, but we need to do them for others, not our own self worth. True righteousness is not pushing an argument to prove you are right- it is letting the other person talk and seeking to understand their position. True righteousness is giving to the poor regardless of whether or not it gets you a tax deduction. True righteousness is not gloating over a convicted felon's sentence- it is feeling regret for their bad choices and the lives that were damaged by that- and seeking to see it not happen again.

Rightness becomes a lot like judgment. Righteousness is bound with compassion. There is a right and a wrong, do not doubt that. But it is not up to me to dictate what is right for you based on what I feel or think. I may point you to what I think is right, but may I never push you there. I believe in something, something truly righteous. I don't think I can introduce you to Him if I am more concerned with my being right by the letter of the law, or the facts. No, I think I need to seek righteousness, which is not earned (value is in me), it is bestowed (value is in giver).

I delight greatly in the LORD;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
--Isaiah 61:10, emphasis mine.

Reclaimed Art

For our family vacation this year, we went to St. Louis to visit family. While there, we were able to hook up with some friends from college who just happened to be in town as well- the Bellomy's. When looking for something to do, we kept getting the response of "You should try the City Museum." Occasionally, it wasn't so much a suggestion as a command. Not really sure what to expect, we took the bait.

As we walked in, we knew right off, this A) wasn't a typical museum, and B)we still weren't sure what to expect. Inside the doors, it was chaos. Not organized chaos, just plain, good old fashioned chaos. Kids screaming and running around, bewildered adults walking about open-mouthed and wide eyed. We passed one poor kid being carried by a worker with a bloody spot on his head. Nope, not like any museum I'd been to before.

Once we got a second to catch our breath and size things up, it became clear just what we in the midst of. It was art, of a sort. But it was also recycling. Everything there was some sort of reclaimed metal or old kitschy stuff you might have found in a 50's carnival. Part of an old House of Mirrors, a bumper car, skateboarding ramps used as slides, an old firetruck, a bus perched perilously over the edge of the roof, a wall of metal cafeteria trays stuck together, two gutted jets held up by wrought iron stairs and heavy metal spring type shapes- which you could crawl through to access the jets and other suspended attractions.

All this was not just to look at- it was to be explored, to be tested, to be tried out. Things once used in one manner, were now finding a second life as something more...full of life. In some ways, it was maybe beautiful in a scary sort of way, but it was definitely a place of life. Some parts of the museum were dark and ominous, others well lit and shiny, and all of it a part of maze of reclaimed art. Old junk given new life.

Sound familiar?

What if the church were more like the City Museum? After all, those who make it up are supposed to be reclaimed junk made into art. Constantly polished and refined and made new. But we the church are meant to also be tried, tested, and explored- our lives are meant to be open books of trial and error. More often, we treat our lives like the art and exhibits of a more traditional museum- look, but don't touch. We fear our lives will be contaminated by those outside of us who come to see the 'reclaimed art,' so we put up velvet ropes and thick glass frames to keep them from getting to close to us. But we are remade to be the kind of art that people engage- like climbing through a giant metal spring- as people explore our lives to see what it was that saved us from an eternity on the junk heap.

The City Museum doesn't just allow itself to be crawled over, jumped on, gotten lost in- it encourages it. It's as if the creators of it wanted you to stand atop a forty foot high bridge, staring back at the shell of a fighter jet you just crawled through and wonder how they got that there. And moreover- why did they put that there? The overwhelming question myself and Dave Bellomy- who went with me and my kids to check out the outdoor stuff- was: What kind of mind thinks to do this?

The answer is a mind that sees value in what others have thrown out. Not just value, but creative value, restorative value: they see a chance for reclaimed art.

Our Creator is on the look out for objects to be reclaimed, to be salvaged and made into something new and different. We are His reclaimed art. We are, like the exhibits at the City Museum, meant to open to others to explore us. See our faults as well as our strengths. They are meant to test us, to see not if we ourselves are all that good, but to see if the Creator has done something great yet again.

And because words don't do it justice- here is the link to the City Museum of St. Louis:
http://www.citymuseum.org/

Mythic Adventure

I have never set out to conquer a legendary beast high in the mountains. I am not an explorer of strange locales. I have never embarked on a quest to destroy any kind of jewelry, let alone a magic ring bent on world domination.

That doesn't mean my life is without adventure. Roller coasters, snow skiing, rock climbing, parenthood- I even owned a sports car once. But is any of that really mythical?

A Mythic Adventure is, to me, the combination of a Mythic God and Mythic Person. A mysterious deity who guides a person of consequence to an amazing conclusion. This adventure is equal parts mystery and challenge, one never knows what might be coming next in your journey.

Now, as far as I know, our world is lacking Grendels and Saurons, and I'm pretty sure that there is no lost world of dinosaurs under our feet. So, what can be our mythic adventure? I believe a Mythic Adventure is God's calling to you, and your passion to pursue it.

A Missionary goes on a Mythic Adventure. A Corporate Executive pursues a Mythic Adventure when they set out to change the unethical nature of their business. Teachers engage in a Mythic Adventure as they guide their students to better themselves. But only if they see it that way.

A Mythic Adventure is just as much about how you see it as it is about what you actually are doing. Do you think what you're doing matters, that it really impacts eternity? A daily bus route can be more of a Mythic Adventure than climbing Mt. Everest if you see it as a vital thing in the eyes of God. The real question is, is your pursuit something that matters to God? If the answer is yes, then pursue it with all you have. Get caught up in it. Take chances. Come alive.

I'm a part of a group growing a new (hopefully) kind of church in a college town. This can be draining as much as it is exciting. It depends on my attitude and perspective which it falls to. It can be mundane or Mythic, depending on how I pursue it. What are you pursuing- what is your life's calling at this moment? Are you viewing it as something that matters to God, and therefore has eternal consequence?

If you want a Mythic Adventure, just look around, you may be in one.

Mythic People

As a kid, I was a fan of Davy Crockett. Fan is a light word, I was obsessessed. I had a costume and everything. It was the image of the man dying for Texas Independence, in his coonskin hat, swinging his muskett at the atacking army of Santa Anna, and dying in a blaze of glory (yes, it started with John Wayne's Alamo, and no, I was not born in the 50's- barely the 70's). Later I would hear the stories about him- you know, "killed him a bar (sic: bear) when he was only 3," could shoot a musket and catch the ricochetting slug in his teeth, etc. They served to enhance the glory of this mythic person. Yeah, he was real, but his existence was the stuff of legend- some easy to prove, some probably embellished. A lot.

Still Davy Crockett is a mythic person, not unlike Abraham Lincoln, John F. Kennedy, Charlemagne, William Wallace, Jesus, Elvis, and Martin Luther. They are mythic because of a lot of things, there are three things that stand out in the lives of these people as well as other mythic people.

1. They Make a Stand Mythic People connect with other people. Not just people they know, but lots of people they never meet face to face. Mythic people have something that draws people to them- call it charisma, call it honesty, call it the 'it' factor (just imagine what the 'it' factor may have been in Lincoln's day- not to mention Jesus'). People want to not just know about them, people want to like them. Personally, I think this factor for mythic people is that they stand for something bigger than themselves. Be that an end to slavery, civil rights, freedom in any form, or rock n' roll. They are willing to sacrifice, face tough opposition and in many cases die for this 'bigger thing.' We want to be around people that have a cause and believe in it totally. We may be so-so on the cause itself, but are infected by the mythic person's passion. So, really, mythic people stand for something with a passion.

2. They Change Things. There have been lots of passion people with a cause, but they fail to become mythic. The Sixties were full of passion people with a cause, but there are very few Martin Luther King Jr.'s that rise to the mythic status. Why? The stand they take didn't change things. Mythic people make a change in their community, their culture and/or their world. Their passion draws people together, and together, they make things happen. Freedom comes, doors are opened, hips are swivelled. Things after mythic people enter the picture are never the same. I've mentioned world changers above, but a mythic person can affect a single town, business, church or organization. The world at large may never hear their name- but the area they changed will never forget what they brought, or who they were. Which leads me to...

3. They Leave a Legacy Mythic people are not forgotten. People talk about taking up the mantle of Lincoln, King, or the King of Rock and Roll. Others attempt to fill their shoes, or tell their story, or even write the next chapter. Instead of there being a single successor, though, mythic people often inspire many to rise and carry their banner. They inspire stories- many of them true. They become the goal to achieve, their lives become our mottos.

As followers of Christ, we can should seek to adhere to these mythic principles, as much as we can. We need to make a stand- not against anything, but for something, for something good. We need to not just talk about, we need to move to make things happen (ouch). And we need to live a life worthy of a legacy.

Being a Mythic Person is no simple thing, and many of us will not ever be that, not even in a small setting. But maybe that thought is the problem. Maybe we all can be mythic. So lets take a stand, and see where things go.

Now, for something completely different...

Salvation is hard.

At least, that seems to be the message we're putting out as the Church. "To be saved, you need to pray this prayer...you need to agree with this statement to be a part of us...you have to view this sacrament this way." Really that's not what we say explicitly, but look at how we allow people to join our church. They often must be "re-baptised" if the baptism they had doesn't match our view of it. There is a formulaic prayer we must go through- and we worry that if we leave out part of it, then it won't work. I know of a seminary that won't give you a diploma unless you sign something to state you are a dispensationalist- which is not explicitly a Biblical concept.

It all adds up to salvation being really difficult to achieve in the eyes of much of the modern church. And why? I believe it is because we have attempted to condense discipleship into salvation, to save time. Salvation is about recognizing Jesus as Savior, discipleship is about recognizing Jesus as Lord, so they are tied together. But Biblically speaking- salvation is a simple matter, a request from a dying theif on a cross for Jesus to remember him is met with salvation. Discipleship requires blood, sweat and tears as we grow, mature and, yes, evolve in Christ.

Salvation is easy- it is Lordship that will kill you.

Mythic God

From Dictionary.com--
Myth –noun
1. a traditional or legendary story, usually concerning some being or hero or event, with or without a determinable basis of fact or a natural explanation, esp. one that is concerned with deities or demigods and explains some practice, rite, or phenomenon of nature.

Truth be told, I used to think of myths just like everyone else- untrue stories with profoundly extraordinary events. Then, one day, an educated person dropped the above definition of myth on me. And I realized something.

God is Mythic.

State God is a myth in most churches and it's "Expell the Heretic!" night. But the truth is, according to this definition, He is. Fact is, as much as we would like to say He is fact- there is no way to determine He is fact. At least not by scientific means. Even by psychological means we can't prove God because our exeriences- though fact to us- are tainted by our perceptions in the eyes of others. What I see as proof of God's provision, you might see as good (and lucky) timing by supportive friends and family. So believers turn to theology- man's attempt to understand God, aka religion's attempt at science. Theology lets us down as well, because it is based on writings of other people's experience. We can claim all day that "scripture is inerrant and the inspired word of God" but to people who don't share our faith, they are just words. God is impossible to prove.

But that doesn't mean He isn't VERY real.

Years ago, when humans where unclear of why things happened, they turned to a spiritual answer. They turned to people who claimed to have spoken to God, seen visions, and experienced miracles. They took the reports of these people, and trusted them. Their stories of a God of Epic Proportions were about extraordinary events, events that they embraced with arms of belief. Today we call those people naive at best, more often, they are called foolish for believing such myths.

I say they put us to shame.

They believed stories of a God who parted the sea. They believed stories of a God who would send down columns of fire. They beleived in stories of a God who would defeat armies with torches and clay pots. They believed in a God who raised the dead, healed the sick, and gave sight to the blind. They may have been 'naive,' but they beleived in a God who was amazing and extraordinary.

It often seems we believe in a God who works for those that try to help themselves. We claim miracles of healing through medicine ( and I do believe medicine is a miracle from God), but we- read, I- often feel like we're claiming that as a miracle because we don't really beleive God still does the other stuff. We believe in God, but He is a rather sedate God, He's quiet and leaves us alone, for the most part. When bad things happen, we turn to this 'security blanket' God and trust He will make it all right. Then we wait for things to blow over. We don't beleive in a Mythic God.

Those stories about God parting the Red Sea, bringing fire on Mt. Carmel, and yes, even the death and resurrection of Christ are all myths. In many ways we can't prove them, but we believe they happened. It is time to stop just believing that they happened, and start living like they still can happen.

Our God is a Mythic God. My prayer and my hope is that we will begin to expect Him to once again do Mythic things. The kind of things that turn cultures, nations, and individuals on their head.

Our God is moving. Let us join Him.