Is it possible?

Continued from before I believe much of what Jesus did in his mission here on earth was largely unseen, and mysterious. I do believe in a spiritual realm that we cannot see, and the obscure references to Jesus passing judgment on the gates of hell are odd and hard to grasp. While these ideas are not without merit or importance, I try and put my attention on what I can understand and communicate. I can posit an idea or two about heaven and hell, but I am living on earth here and now, and feel I can speak a little more clearly about the latter. With all the words of Jesus we have recorded, if I can take the liberty to summarize all he said in one little phrase, it would be these three words: "You are free." Its because freedom in the reason He set us free. Freedom to do right. Freedom to do good. Freedom to believe that I am free. I just didn't experienced a whole lot of that when I was immersed in church culture. Freedom was something to be feared. One guy told me that he would rather err on the side of law than on the side of grace. He explained that if he was to wander, at least he would be far enough away from being accused of being loose or immoral. Discipline would keep him safer from sinning than would the risks of freedom. I didn't get the logic of his idea. If I'm going to err, I'm going to err. Does it matter which side of the line I fall? Jesus' call to freedom releases me to follow what he pointed to as the Greatest Commandment. Do I love well? Would God and others say I do? If not, why not? I think we get too hung up on trying to find a specific blueprint of what Jesus wants me to do and less aware of what He hopes we will do. Consider the things Jesus never did. He never was married, never had kids, never owned a house, all three of which many men today do. Instead of trying to figure out what Jesus would do as a husband, father, or homeowner, is it too much of a stretch to imagine him asking, "What would you do?" My dad was a man of deep faith, and it affected how he lived and how he raised me. His biggest legacy was instilling a belief that he was behind me in whatever I did. Is it possible that Jesus is trying to do the same? I think my dad and Jesus were trying to tell me the same thing... ...you are free.

Yes, I do

Anonymous said...

Any thoughts for someone who is in full time ministry and wanting out?

Yes, I do.

It's a big decision to make, one that took me several years. It's a decision that contains multiple layers, and each of them require some serious thought and consideration. Doing so is a revealing process, as it will lead you to motives you may not have been aware of.

Your first point of clarity is knowing why you want to get out. Are you bored? Are you disillusioned, maybe tired of being broke, or are you just fed up with the assholes in your church? These reasons need exploration, and that search needs to be done with a trusted voice who will let you talk it out completely with out judgment. I try my best to be objective, even though I made the choice to leave, I'm smart enough to know that my decision is not the right one for everyone else. Who knows, you may just need a good vacation in order to feel better about your lot in life. But I would doubt it.

A second layer to peel back is knowing where you want to go. Leaving is one thing, having a destination is another. I left because I had a compelling notion to start something new, completely unrelated to what I did before. It pulled me out, and forward. Even though many would not understand, it gave me a justification that I could rely on and defend in my own soul, which is essential, because there will likely be many lonely days ahead once you launch out.

A third aspect of which to be aware is what other people think. The good spiritual answer is that we are only supposed to care about what God thinks, but if you have helped people in their faith development, that is not something to be taken lightly. You will need to be able to communicate to these folks why you are making the shift. You can't just leave and expect them to fully understand without giving them a reason why. People will have to make their own choice about what they think about your decision, but how you consider them is yours.

I know this oversimplifies it, but I wanted to acknowledge your question and say that leaving vocational ministry is not the end of the world, despite what you may have been led to believe. I was always beat over the head with the verses on perseverance, and diligence and how if you take your hand from the plow, you are not fit for the Kingdom. These can be easily taken out of context and made to apply to your vocation and not your deepest soul. Leaving your ministry position may be the very thing to put you back on track toward renewing your faith. I know it did for me.

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Feeling Bad For Not Feeling Bad

Easter morning. The day all good Evangelicals and other Christian types meet to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. The focal point of belief, the reason for our forgiveness, the cause that changed history. So why again this year, am I having a difficult time not making a bigger deal out of it? Why am I fine sitting in my morning chair, enjoying a quiet house, reflecting on my week, and savoring a rich cup of coffee? I think it has something to do with not feeling bad any more. Back when I was a good Evangelical, there was a point of view I completely bought into that I am only now starting to unpack and question why. This sentiment was expressed so commonly, especially in every other worship song I sang and led, I adopted it as if it was my intended lot in life. Let's just call it the identity of desperation. The one song that embodied this idea as good as any was the one titled, "Breathe." The simple lyrics of "I'm lost without you; I'm desperate for you." rolled off my lips like bailouts out of Washington. I loved this song. I thought it was so brave and courageous to sing this kind of passion, until I came to a discovery a few years down the road. I think the main reason I connected with it was because I was depressed. I felt horrible about myself, my place in life and what the future might not hold. In fact, I am starting to realize that much of my spiritual identity was built around that condition, and now that I am no longer depressed, I am redefining my faith accordingly. And I wonder if I'm not alone. Part of the reason I don't want to go back to the Church As I Knew It is that it helped reinforce my feeling bad and I don't feel a need to return to that place in my life again. Maybe I am, but don't feel like I'm trying to lay blame on Church or anyone other than myself, because ultimately I am the one responsible for the maintenance of my spirit. What got me thinking about this more were all the little Facebook profile updates I see from my friends expressing their sentiments about Easter. Sentiments that once made perfect sense now seems so foreign to how I view Christ and what His life represents. Honestly, I don't feel like a wretch anymore. I don't feel desperate any longer. I feel free and empowered. I don't rise each morning with the need to read the Bible and have it remind me of all that I am doing wrong. I don't need a weekly sermon to reinforce the darkness of my depression with a general assumption that I am nothing more than a man in need of a Savior. I guess I want to keep moving forward to better places and there are too many voices around me proclaiming their sin and shame and not enough living in freedom and power. I don't claim to know what God is thinking all the time, but if the image of Him as Father is accurate, would I want my kids calling me at all hours of the day to recount all the ways they let me down and to remind me of what bad children they are? If indeed He is risen, I'm pretty sure He's going to stay that way, and I'm going to do my best to do the same. Happy Easter.

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Now, what was it you wanted me to do?

It was called horse sense where I grew up, but you might know it as common sense or savvy or gumption, but it is a quality that indicated the ability to see the obvious and call a spade a spade. Folks that didn’t have it were labeled as thick, or dense or just plain dumb. It seems there are more and more spades today that are not being labeled as such. Take this oft used statistic, for example. Research shows that there is very little difference in the morality, if you want to call it that, between people who proclaim to have faith in Christianity and those who don’t. Divorce rates are the same, teen pregnancies are similar. Christians seem to have just as many affairs and who know what other kinds of problems. Why is this? There is a religious segment that would say its just old fashioned sin that needs to be repented of. This group has been pounding the drum loudly that all our social ills are an indication that America is being punished for these sins and the solution is that we simply need to stop what they are doing and turn back to God. Let’s say that’s true. How does that happen? This was the line of thinking I was handed in my early faith development. It was more like the sentiment of Nike than anything supernatural. The Sunday preacher would open the Bible and point out all the behavior that we, the struggling followers, should avoid, and we were expected to “just do it.” Nothing really mattered other than raw obedience, and since nothing ever changed, this gave the preacher job security, who would continue the same browbeating week in and week out. Why didn’t this work, and by work I mean results in any kind of change in social or personal behavior? I would venture to say that we had no idea of what we were to become. There was no Ideal, if you will, to look toward and emulate. And without an Ideal, we are left with whatever we see around us. And if the majority of people I know are getting a divorce, why should I expect to be any different? When the going gets tough in marriage, why not jump ship? What really keeps me wanting to make it work? You might say Jesus is that Ideal and that he should be the example for all our dilemmas. But I’m not sure that was the main point of his short lived earthly presence. Jesus wasn’t married. He doesn’t live next door. He didn’t play basketball. He didn’t drive a car or have use of the Internet. There is so much we do today that he never did. WWJD can only go so far. Could it be the Ideal is much closer to us than the example of one who lived in a far away culture hundreds of years ago? To be continued...

What you make of it

I find interesting the CNN article on the decline of Christianity in America. I’ve heard and read a few takes on these results, ranging from defensiveness to indifference. I personally don’t put too much stock in polls after my senior year stats professor told us that you can say anything you want with statistics, depending on how you report the data. But I have seen what may affirm these findings, at least among the small cross-section of people I know.

Over the years I’ve witnessed a number of folks, me included, who have drifted away from the practice of their faith in the form of the Church As We Know It. It ranges from one end of just not going to church, to the other extreme of rejecting God and faith entirely. Call it disillusionment or crisis of belief, bottom line is that Church just isn’t working for them.

I know everyone has their own stories, complicated as they may be, but if I were to simplify why I believe this shift is taking place, it is the tension that exists between what is Real and what is Ideal.

As children growing up in church, our elders presented the idea of God to us the best way they saw fit. I remember learning bible stories on a flannegraph, a novel little method on which Noah or Daniel or Solomon were cut out of cloth and placed on an easel covered with flannel. The teacher interpreted the stories of these men to us in terms a little child could understand.

But as we grew older, some of us never saw our faith mature past those stories. Noah might have been the nice man who obeyed God and built the ark to save the animals, but what do we do when we start contending with the God who destroyed the world in his wrath? Or when we realize The Wisest Man in the World was also the man Who Slept With Lots of Women? I understand why this angle was left out of first grade bible curriculum.

One option is just to jettison it all over board and adopt a position of indifference, cynicism or further still, hostility. It is too conflicting to see religious leaders rail against homosexuals when your best friend is gay. To be stuck in the middle between the church culture that you question and your non religious family may leave you with no place to stand. It's easier to just side with one or the other.

This is what I mean by the Real and the Ideal. What we hope for, long for and dream about gets juxtaposed with the way it really is. If God is Love, why does it seem there is so much anger among those who say they speak for Him? If the primary image of God in the New Testament is Father, why did dad leave mom? What does all this dissonance mean?

I think it means we are stuck in a fallen place. I think it means we need men and women who will hold fast to the Ideal and not let the Real defeat them. It means we have to decide if which of the two will get the best of us.

Overcoming Writer's Block

I apologize if this seems self serving, but I found it helpful as a writing exercise, I decided to try another 25.

1. I’m afraid I may have a reaction to caffeine that affects my sleep in a weird way, so I have been off caffeine for a month.

2. I‘ve taught myself a number of skills over the years, and I easily forget that this is a uniqueness to my personality. I assume that since certain things come easily to me, they should be just as easy to someone else.

3. I eat better and less now that I am immersed in the creation of food. Instead of being tempted to eat, I have a greater respect for what I eat.

4. I would rather spend money on memory making rather than acquiring possessions. If I were given $500 to spend, I’d take a weekend trip over buying a flat panel plasma TV.

5. I don’t understand the appeal of traveling on a cruise ship. My idea of a cruise is taking a canoe into the Boundary Waters for a week.

6. The food I am embarrassed to admit that I like: Crunchy Cheetos.

7. I am not afraid of heights, but snakes still creep me out.

8. If I win the lottery, and no longer have to worry about income, I would build a workshop to mill lumber and craft furniture in the winter, and grow a massive market garden in the spring, summer and fall.

9. I like teaching others about things I enjoy.

10. The guitar solo in Blue Collar Man by Tommy Shaw made me want to learn how to play guitar.

11. The concert I am embarrassed to admit I wish I could have seen: Kiss.

12. I’ve recently learned how to not wear a watch.

13. I own and have read the hardback versions of all the Tom Clancy novels.

14. I grew cherry tomatoes in a 3x3 plywood box that I made when I was 10. And I wonder why I eventually became a chef.

15. I actually like cleaning stuff. I think it makes me feel in control of my environment.

16. I brought home a beagle last year for my wife’s Valentine’s Day gift. It’s the single smartest decision I have ever made.

17. I decided not to play football my sophomore and junior year of high school. Years later, I look back on the resolve to make that kind of decision at a young age and wonder where that inner strength came from.

18. I collect old signs and hang them on my outdoor patio. I’m not sure why.

19. One criterion that I use in choosing a book to read is, will it make me think?

20. In my late 30’s, I went through a season of depression, and one beacon of light during that time was seeing Blue Man Group in Las Vegas. After the show, I wasn’t sure what I had just witnessed, but I was convinced it was something important. I later realized they were telling me to pursue my dream.

21. In my college years, I memorized a countless number of bible verses and could quote them word perfect. To this day I don’t know if the motivation to do that was virtuous or not.

22. I went to a high school that utilized corporal punishment, in other words, I got my ass beat with a wooden paddle when I got out of line. This will shape your worldview.

23. I am drawn toward people who know where their pain comes from.

24. I wish men still wore hats. I’d wear one now, but I’d hate to draw that kind of attention to myself.

25. I’ve worn Levi’s 560 jeans for fifteen years, simply because I don’t like to think about what I will wear. I know my size, so when I need a new pair, I don’t even have to try it on in the store. I like this kind of stability.

25 little known and seldom sought facts about me

I'm usually not into these meme things or being tagged, but since I've had some writer's block, I thought this might be a good exercise to get me moving on this blog again. Here are 25 things about me.

1. I am a morning person and do my best work in the AM. I get drowsy in the afternoon and can fall asleep very quickly. I’ve recently fallen asleep at a stoplight, only to be wakened by a honking horn. That’s a scary feeling.

2. I take out and put in my right contact lens first, then the left, always, every time.

3. My default lunch is an apple, a chunk of blue cheese, pepperoni and crackers.

4. Disorder makes me uptight. When I sense chaos in the kitchen at work, one of my first reactions is to stop and get the workspace organized. Clutter is unsettling to me.

5. I love to travel. My first big trip was to Bermuda at age 10. Since then I’ve had the chance to spend enough time to taste the food and culture in Mexico City, Nairobi, Kampala, London, Glasgow, Leeds, Vienna, Budapest, Bucharest, Beijing, Xi’an, and Bangkok.

6. I am obsessively creative, which makes it very hard to lie around and watch movies or TV or participate in activities with no outcome. I prefer going to the cinema over watching DVD’s at home because there are less distractions there.

7. I will throw out or give away perfectly good items because I don’t like having to create a place for them. I do this with clothing regularly. As you can guess, I have a small closet space.

8. I can make food that people enjoy and are willing to pay for. I dream of making music that is playable in front of a paying audience.

9. I’ve learned how to listen before I speak. I am secure enough in what I believe to let you have your say. I listen to Rush Limbaugh and NPR because I find them interesting.

10. If I could have three channels on cable, I would subscribe to The Food Network, The Travel Channel and that one that has the show on how things are made.

11. I feed wild birds. I hang bird feeders outside my front window and watch the colorful birds stop by. My favorites are the yellow finches, which turn bright yellow in the winter. I have a reason for doing this that I won’t put here.

12. I am a persistent person and don’t give up very easily. This enabled me to endure the long, long process of opening an original restaurant, and watch it become successful.

13. I collect friends. To do so, I stay in touch with people. Before facebook and email, I did this by letter writing. I kept stationary and note cards in my desk, along with stamps, so I could jot a quick note. I wrote several per week in college.

14. I miss my dad, who passed away about 3 ½ yrs ago. My first thought of grief when I learned that he died, was that he will never see bread&cup, that he would never get to sit at my bar so I could serve him a pint, and hear him say how proud he was of me.

15. I don’t like politics, not because I don’t find it interesting, but because I hate the polarizing effect that it has on people involved in it. I can’t watch cable news shows because they wear me out. Occasionally I tune into the BBC news. At least that guy doesn’t seem angry about everything.

16. I am fascinated by process, of how things are made or created. I recently went out to a farm to watch a steer slaughtered, from the kill, to drawing and quartering, all because I want to know more about where your food originates.

17. I brew my own beer. Again, this has as much to do with process as it does with a mighty fine finished product that I can be proud of.

18. I’ve run three marathons so far, and will probably do one again eventually. I haven’t committed to one lately because I don’t like to start what I can’t finish. This is the whole reason I started running as a sophomore in college. I would never need a gym, or weights or a team of people to pull together. A decent pair of shoes and motivation would be the essentials, and I figured I could probably come up with both of those, even if I was poor.

19. I love playing craps and blackjack, and have a system I rarely deviate from when at the table. I never reach back in the pocket for more money if I lost what I started, which was literally in the first 15 minutes of a session with some friends in Vegas. I spent the next three hours in the coffee shop reading the paper while they kept winning. That day sucked.

20. The reason I finally gave in to the hair loss and shaved my head, was as a result of seeing Andre Agassi playing tennis years ago, who went from long hair to no hair. I thought if he could do it, so could I.

21. My closest brush with fame was sitting two rows behind Bono, The Edge and Larry at church in San Francisco one Sunday morning in 1988.

22. Too many choices wear me out, which is why I don’t like restaurants like the Cheesecake Factory, where the menu resembles a Rand McNally road atlas. Give me two or three options about anything, and I’m OK with it.

23. I think I figured out why I listen to jazz so much. It’s because when I hear it, I imagine what it might feel like to be a player in the band. See #8.

24. I don’t pretend to understand the grief process, but I have learned that when I come across a friend sitting alone in the ashes, the best thing to do is just sit down with him and keep my mouth shut.

25. I consider myself a learner and hope to spend the rest of my life educating myself.

Wednesday Night is Ladies Night

Dear Current Pastor,

Ever wonder if doing church in the way that you commonly know it is most effective? Do you ever sense that there might be a better way? Let me offer you some advice that won’t cost you a dime, and will save you the cost of a trip to the South Barrington Headquarters for the annual pep talk.

Implement a cover charge for your Sunday Services.

Think about it this way. Anything that is worth something has a cost associated with it. Gasoline isn’t free. Movies aren’t free. Tickets to concerts now can cost over a hundred dollars. Why should your Church As You Know It be any different?

Oh sure, you have the tithe, but you and I both know that only about 20 percent of your people foot the bill for the rest of the freeloaders. Have you made it too easy for folks to get in, get out and get on with their life? Would anything change if you had to give the usher five or ten bucks just to get in the door?

Yes, I’m serious.

Your church is a production just like any other business or entertainment endeavor. You are dispensing a product that costs you and your team time and money every week, yet you don’t expect every person to bear any cost whatsoever. This seems out of sorts with a basic principle of cost/benefit analysis. If your people are benefiting from your work, and they aren’t paying for it, who’s the smarter one of the two?

See, if you charge a cover, and your services are really that powerful and life changing, you’re going to get people to shell out the cover charge, no problem. People bitch about rising ticket prices at the theater, but they still go don’t they? Hollywood only needs to worry when people stop going to movies.

And the same for you. If you charge a cover at church, and no one wants to pay it, then Supply and Demand proves to be right once again. If there is no demand for what you supply, then maybe its time to take a closer look and ask why?

Churchicus Futurium

I was hanging out with the Terrestrial Transient a few days ago enjoying a Santa Fe 25^th Anniversary Imperial Porter, and amid the conversation came a comment that resonated with me as to why I don’t like to speak in definitive statement regarding the Church of the Future.

“It seems like, when we rush to give something a name, it immediately becomes limited.”

“You just gave me my next blog thought” I replied.

I get asked regularly by people who read this blog about my definition of The Church of the Future, and I hesitate to give what they are looking for. Definitions are for experts and consultants. They help to sell books and seminars because they are easier to write down in a syllabus.

I prefer to define with stories.

After my Saturday night kitchen shift, I was unwinding at the bar and taking pleasure in the fading energy from a full night of service. A couple came in and saw someone they recognized. The initial squeal, followed by the hugs, led to a conversation I could not help but overhear.

It didn’t take long for me to catch the nature of what they were engaged. While I could not recreate it verbatim, the essence of what was said made me smile, as it affirmed my belief that the scattered seeds of The Church of the Future are germinating. Words like “our vision,” “create community,” and “what are we waiting for?” peppered their brief, lively discussion.

What I wanted to do, but my discretion prohibited, was to turn around and say a resounding, “Yes!” to these young future pastors, because most of us need little more than a simple “yes” to validate our idea and give us permission to take the first step. As it is, I fear the Church As We Know It will feel the need to identify it with a name, thereby limiting its potential in the process.

Current Pastor, if you see any of these seeds sprouting in your field, I would recommend you sit back and watch them grow before applying current methods of cultivation. Avoid the temptation to prematurely name, or cage the growing young organism. Let it be and watch for the fruit, for it is the fruit will determine what it is to be called.

Hooking up with Jesus

Coming off a comment by Les on the last post, I began thinking about intimacy as it pertains to faith.

Intimacy is a polarized experience. It can be both terrifying and indescribably settling. The fear of being known so vulnerably is balanced by the peacefulness of knowing the vulnerability is safe with another person.

Intimacy with God was a concept that was tossed about in The Church As We Know It as some type of holy grail that was easily accessible and achievable by certain practices of bible reading, prayer and singing an inordinate amount of songs that were composed of language that bordered on sensual.

Toward the end of my days as a professional minister, I began reconsidering the use of this kind of language in public expressions of worship. Now that I am a few miles outside of town, those thoughts are reinforced.

When you are intimate with someone, you keep certain things between just you and that person. Personal secrets and nicknames are kept closely guarded. We save our most intimate expressions of affection for our most intimate moments, that is, when you and that person are alone and no one else is around.

This kind of intimacy is expressed in the imagery of Revelation, which says that God would give a token of affection to those who endure suffering for His sake. The token would be a small white stone upon which a name was written. This name would be secret and only known to the person to whom the stone was given. Thus the name is a way of honoring the relationship and serves as a reminder of that shared intimacy.

Sex was supposed to provide two people with this kind of intimacy, but our culture seems to think this is an old fashioned notion. When we take a personal, private matter and turn it into a public one, to use the common vernacular, someone gets fucked. Pleasure is had, but intimacy is tossed out the window. And this is the real tragedy.

I run the risk of making a gross comparison, but it appears to me that a similar experience developed along the way in our public expressions of worship. Good worship was often rated by how good it felt and not so much about a deep abiding faith in God. It felt really good at that point in time to sing those songs, but am I able to experience even greater pleasures of God when I am outside the public setting?

One thing Revelation did not say, but I imply, is that I doubt no one is going to be turning their name on that white stone into a top 10 worship song.

A parallel universe

Dear Future Pastor,

One of the most enlightening decisions I have made in the last three years is to distance my faith from the culture that has been created by it.

While I would hesitate from turning my experience into a step-by-step handbook, I will offer to you how I think it has helped me, and if you find some kind of inspiration in it, all the better.

For years I was immersed in a parallel culture, one that glided alongside a similarly functioning secular one, only smaller in scope. Like any tribe or people group, my religious culture had a language, values, mores and traditions that made perfect sense while I lived among it, but now that I have moved to another place, I look back and scratch my head at certain former ways of carrying on with life.

I pulled out some old “worship” CD’s today and listened to what I was captured by a mere few years ago. The songs I considered cutting edge seem so different now that I am outside the culture that created them. Please don’t hear me saying that they are bad, inferior or that I have somehow become enlightened and superior in judgment over them. It’s just that I have a different point of view.

As the music played, I recalled with fondness some of lyrics that I sang and even wrote, but asked myself why they don’t hold the same meaning now. I believe it’s because I have learned to speak a different language now, and vernacular of the religious culture doesn’t translate very easily into my new life.

The Church as We Know It holds its own language in reverence. But does your average outsider have a category for terms like King of Kings and Lord of Lords or Lamb of God or I want to touch You, I want You to hold me, I need to feel your arms around me, draw near and caress me with Your embrace?

Now that I am an outsider, these don’t seem to make as much sense to me, either.

Future Pastor, I’m not trying to throw you into confusion, but you will have to take into serious consideration these kinds of changes you will inevitably face if you decide to take seriously becoming a pastor of The Church of the Future.

Guilt is one of those paths you will likely have to walk. Prepare to ask yourself, Am I doing the right thing? Am I walking away from the core of my faith? Am I abandoning orthodoxy? Am I ashamed of the gospel or even my profession? I went through a season having to answer these questions. But I eventually have come to accept the wrestling match with guilt as a part of the process of becoming who I was made to be.

Exit 432

Dear Future Pastor,

The last two weeks have left me with very little reserve to draw upon. My 20^th century guilt was trying to convince me that it had to do with my lack of discipline or being a part of the Church As We Know It, but I knew better. I now refer to it as reality.

All this brought me to my day off work wondering what I should do about it. I had a thought to visit the Holy Family Chapel along Interstate 80 between here and Omaha. Perched upon a hill overlooking the Platte Valley, this mysterious looking edifice always invokes in me the question, “What is that thing?”

I made my way northeast along the ribbon of highway and found the exit leading down the dirt road to the quaint little sanctuary. My lack of knowledge of this place produced a little anxiety, as does anything dedicated as holy. I’m sure some passersby might have seen it as a glorified Stuckey’s to be checked off their cross country travelogue, but for me it felt somewhat ominous.

This is what I like about the Catholics. They have tried to keep the Sacred at arms length, treat it with reverence and maintain that division between it and all that is secular. They erect sanctuaries and cathedrals and monasteries and recite liturgies as a means to remind them that God is Other and I am Ordinary. The evangelicals, on the other hand, tear the veil, blunder in, and make everything familiar.

Regardless of position, all of us have to admit our tendency to slump into a complacent course. The liturgist must overcome it as well as the non-traditionalist. It is hard to keep fresh when it comes to spiritual direction.

Which is why I think my visit to Holy Family Chapel was meaningful. It was different. It was off the beaten path. It caught me off guard, and I needed that.

As I drove away, my spirit felt relieved and like a reflex I considered coming back again soon. But Something suggested otherwise. As I mulled over the rationale, I concluded that my need was not met by my visit to the Chapel itself, but mostly out of an age old Truth.

If you seek Me, you will find Me.

Hope and Change

As I’ve said before, I try to keep my political opinions out of this blog, as I know how polarizing politics can be. It’s not that I don’t hold firm beliefs, it’s just that my thoughts about the spiritual life may not ever get heard if I interject what I think about politics.

I will comment on Tuesday’s election in light of an observation I have made before. It is the word; Transcendence.

This time in history reminds us even more of this need.

Why else do we gather in stadiums with 80,000 other sports fans to watch 11 guys try and get a leather ball across a particular line on a grass field?

Why do we wait in line for hours and camp out for tickets for a show to be reminded that I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For?

And why would a kid need off work so he and some buds can drive 10 hours to stand in a sea of humanity in Chicago’s Grant Park on a Tuesday Night in November?

Transcendence.

And Barak Obama is helping a generation with this need.

The other major headlines are nothing to rally around. The gravitational pull of the economy, national security, and healthcare concerns are enough for the average citizen to feel the downward pressure of the extra weight. This added burden demands relief, and transcendent moments like Tuesday nights decision provide that liberation.

To transcend is to rise above, to be lifted up and over all that is ordinary and become distinct. And to many, Barak Obama is their means of transcendence.. He has brought a majority of people up and above the current state of mind about this country. He has lifted spirits and attitudes. He has campaigned on two simple words: Hope and Change. The nationwide response to both signals a yearning for transcendence.

To borrow a phrase from film, The Incredibles, if everyone is special, then no one is. In a culture of self-fulfillment, it is not enough to feel good about me. I need to feel great about something greater. I need to rise above, and I need help doing so.

Good luck, President-elect Obama. Lead strong. Lead us well.

You. Happier?

Here’s a thought I’ve been ruminating lately. With the mortgage crisis front and center in all the news and talk, it makes me wonder if the average person has any idea why it came about?

Most are able to blame Wall Street fat cats, and the Republicans and Democrats are trading shots at each other, contending that their opponent is somehow the culprit, but what about the consumer? Where does the consumer fit into the picture?

Everyday I get a raft of credit card applications in the mail, in effect begging me to apply for their card and receive their low interest rate or their unbeatable balance transfer offer. And everyday I run them through the shredder. And everyday I see why it was so easy for us to get into this current financial quagmire.

Fault the lender for being so tempting, but also fault the borrower for not being wiser. The Serpent made the offer of the apple, but Adam and Eve went against their instructions and took the first bite. Both got punished. If I am living beyond my means, regardless if the government or my neighbor can’t do so, that still doesn’t make it right.

The latest ad campaign from Best Buy includes a slogan that reads, “You. Happier.” I am teaching my daughter to mock things like this. How stupid does Best Buy think I am, that they believe that me buying a stupid flat panel TV is going to have any bearing on me being happier? What do they take me for?

Well I guess they take me for the average American, who is in consumptive debt up to their eyeballs, who doesn’t have the wherewithal to recognize a lie from a good deal.

I wonder if we as a consumptive society will every get fed up to the point that advertising strategies like Best Buy will actually backfire and have a negative effect on their sales? Will we ever come to our senses long enough to feel offended by a statement, “You. Happier?”

And once we get through this mortgage mess, will we really ever learn a lesson from it?

Something tells me to not hold my breath.

Cart before the Horse

Future Pastor, back to your question about how often the Church of the Future would, or should, gather.

I believe this question is irrelevant, or at least too early at this point in our discussion. The inquiry is seems more concerned with function, not fruitfulness. We should first want to concern ourselves with what exactly are we wanting to create.

I planted a few apple trees in my back yard, about seven years ago, and every year at this time my daughter asks me when the apples are going to be ready. I shamefully tell her that yet again we don’t have apples to pick, to which she quickly asks, “How come?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Be fruitful and multiply” was the original freedom given to us as human beings, and I believe that process is implicit in all living organisms. Everything around us is fitted with the ability, or at least the longing, to grow and leave behind a reproduction of itself. So when it comes to your desire for expanding the Church of The Future, do you have in mind what you want the fruit to look like? What you envision is what you will reproduce.

I know what good apples look like, but what shows up on my trees isn’t that. But if scrawny, infested or shriveled was the standard, then I would consider myself successful every year.

If qualities like attendance, giving, or volunteering are going to be used as the sign of good fruit, your approach will take on a certain method, looking much like the existing plan of the Church As We Know It. But if you want to see greater faith, more genuine love, and an empowered, hopeful demonstration, then worrying about how often you need to get together will take a back seat in lieu of leading and inspiring these ideals.

Future Pastor, we need to examine and see if the Current Orchard is producing the right type of fruit. Once we deal with that, we can start figuring out methods and procedures.

Trends or the Blowing of the Wind?

One of the hardest things for a leader to discern is the difference between the development of a trend and a the moving of the Spirit.

When I was in student ministry, we were constantly trying to reinvent ourselves in an attempt to stay ahead of the ever changing curve of the student population. I was directly involved in it for 18 years and saw a significant shift during those times.

Smaller to Larger

I watched the explosion of mega campus groups, primarily in the south, but in places like Waco and College Station emerged a much sought after phenomenon. It started from something called a “bible study,” usually a handful of students and a leader seeking to be used to reach their campus, and in a short time it transforms into a weekly gathering of thousands. God is given credit for an amazing outpouring.

The Worship Band

When I started at the University of Nebraska, worship bands were unheard of. Ours was the first that emerged. Being a frontrunner gave me several opportunities to speak out about the role that worship would play in transforming our campuses. Within a few years, it was the exception for any fellowship to not have some type of band, regardless of how small. What would have been sufficient for an acoustic guitar now demanded that plus drums, bass and a sound system. All for 20 kids.

The Kurt Cobain effect

His death, from my perspective, ushered in a season of angst where it became vogue to project little hope. To be positive was to be shallow. To not live in a constant state of questioning meant you weren’t authentic. Candles and couches snuck in during this season. We wanted to be closer to God this way.

Larger to Smaller

Toward the end of my tenure, the glory from the larger groups seemed to fade. Like Moses' diminishing glow beneath the veil, something was changing, and we weren’t really sure why. Do we blame it on God or the generation?

In each of these expressions, I look back and ask myself if I was following and forming a sociological trend, or if I was really in touch with the Spirit of God and what He desired for us. Answer: I may never know.

I see a similar wave building, and look on it differently now as an outsider and not as one shrouded by his culture he has helped create. It is the Inward to Outward display. I predict the next wave is going to move away from the inward, contemplative worship and teaching expression to a more outward focus of social issues and ministry. Could the next “worship band” be the ministry who has the best trips to help Hurricane Ike victims or the coolest soup kitchen outreach?

I don’t mean to sound cynical, but as a watchman I want to recognize what lies in the outer reaches of the landscape. If I am to awaken others to respond to what I see, I don’t want to be guilty of crying “wolf.”

Politics and Religion

I try to keep my political opinions to myself and keep them out of this blog. Religion is enough to think and worry about for me right now. I can’t imagine trying to do justice to both.

I know many families have the general rule, when they get together, of no talk of either politics or religion. They both cause the same trouble and lead to the same arguments. It’s because religion and politics don’t mix very well. Just ask Cameron Strang, editor of Relevant Magazine. Who would have thought that being invited to say a prayer at this year’s DNC would cause such a ruckus? It’s a prayer, crying out loud.

I have to admit that when I saw Rick Warren throw himself into the political arena by hosting a debate at his church, I was a bit worried that he might yet become another evangelical leader seduced by the power that politics provides. The only reason he got the opportunity to do that was because he has power in the religious arena. Selling millions of books gets you noticed.

I’m not saying people of faith shouldn’t be involved politically. All I ask and hope for is that they don’t make the same mistakes in politics as has happened in the Church As We Know It.

People on the Right, or the Left or In The Church have this in common; they have the tendency to act as if their worldview is iron clad and has no holes.

You will never hear James Carville, Sean Hannity and The Bible Answer Man allude to any kind of doubt or question or uncertainty with whatever position they are defending.

I just wish for once, in the midst of all the hype and spin, that I could hear some honest struggle. Tension exists between the Left and Right, but seldom can we talk about the tension within.

It always bugged me as a young man of growing faith that I could never get an answer from a person in clergical authority that was not in the form of chapter and verse defenses. I would walk away feeling I was wrong and he was right, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I guess I carry that same suspicion into this election season. I seldom find people on either side politically who are fully committed to their cause that can tell me anything they are concerned about in their own position.

Future Pastor, as you feel the need to become more politically active, don’t be quick to proclaim certainty without humility. State your beliefs, and do so with an awareness that your position will always be held in tension with others around you. Be gracious to those who misunderstand you. It’s more important to love well than to be right.

Bible-on-a-Stick

What is it about the State Fair that seems to attract a need to put any kind of food imaginable on a stick? I ashamedly admit that my daughter and I sampled several on-a-stick foods last night. Let’s see, we had pizza-on-a-stick, fried twinkie-on-a-stick, frozen chocolate covered banana-on-a-stick, corn dog-on-a-stick, and a fried peach-on-a-stick. Most of it was odd in the mouth, but I figured that since our State Fair is destined for the archives, I should create a memory with my girl before its too late. Not sure exactly what that memory might be, but we logged it anyway.

As we sat on a bench along Main Street, behind the DockDogs showcase and across from the Allis Chalmers farm implement dealer, I watched the Full Gospel Business Men’s little portable trailer with the question stenciled in big, bold letters on three sides, “Are you going to heaven?” Inside it were two elderly gentlemen, probably my dad’s age, not doing much other than sitting. Below the painted question was the sentence, “Two questions will reveal your fate.”

Maybe it struck me as funny, but there was something freakish about their set up. So much so that I had a mental wrestling match with my conscience about whether I should go over and talk to the two old gents. Now in retrospect I realize I chickened out, but I think I was afraid they might think I was not saved, since I still have an earring and all. But shame on me for judging them, right?

In a way, I wish I was like those guys. In the time that it took to eat a Texas Tater, I saw two people stop by their booth. That’s two more than I would have ever imagined them getting a chance to speak with, but again, there is my judgment getting in the way. They seemed kind enough, smiling in conversation to both parties. Who knows what they talked about. I assume it about going to heaven, since that’s what their booth was all about.

The cool thing is that these old guys are just putting it out there as they see fit. I assume it was their faith that motivated the effort. I bet they believe they are doing the Lord’s work.

What it did was make me miss my dad. I’m not sure he would have manned a booth like that, but he did have faith that was simple,, and I really miss it. I wonder if every generation gets to a point of looking back and realizing that progress hasn’t always gotten us to a better point?

I think I'll scrap my Bible-on-a-stick idea.

Come sit with us

Enjoyed a serendipitous moment at El Toro last night. Two old friends whom we hadn’t seen in quite some time arrived soon after we were seated. They were able to buck the waiting line and join us. Our conversation sparked my thoughts before sunrise this morning.

Since our relationship with them centered around church attendance, it was no wonder that the conversation eventually ended up there. Add their names to the list of folks who are not quite sure where the Church As We Know It is sailing.

One frustration the wife expressed was how much time is spent on slogging through issues like the role of women in ministry. “Why are we STILL debating this issue?” was her frustrated question. How will this help us really love other people well?

I understand the One Side believes it is a fundamental question that must be theologically rooted and doctrinally sound, but what I think it doesn’t realize is that the Other Side doesn’t really care.

To borrow a term from Thomas Friedman, the world is flattening, and so should the Church As We Know It. Hierarchies are diminishing because we don’t need them as much anymore. Organizational structure is not as necessary as it once was, in large part because you and I possess the tools powerful enough to arrange and communicate with as many people as we need.

If the Church As We Know It stays caught in this eddy of orchestration, the rest of the culture will float on by and it won’t wait for Her to catch up. In Her attempts at remaining doctrinally pure, She is becoming irrelevant to the very people She thinks She needs to help. Little does She know that they have a lot to teach Her.

The Wise Man once wrote that it is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other. Tension will always exist between two seemingly opposite issues, but the Church As We Know It needs to tighten up the slack a little bit.

Does prayer work?

I approach this question differently now than I would have before. When I was in the business of dispensing religious goods and services, I would have taken a defensive stance that had no doubt been influenced by a Western, scientific point of view. I walk a different path now.

Asking if something works, one needs to be aware if the presuppositions are coming from a mechanical bias. Similar to purchasing a car, the buyer wants to know if all the features do what they are supposed to do. Does the engine run? Does the AC cool? Will the transmission shift? All these questions are fair and reasonable.

But a relationship with an automobile is different than one with a living, dynamic, organic being. And I believe we have melded the two ideas together so that there is no division any more.

Our culture has blurred our distinctions of mechanism and relationship. Marriage is a prime example. The current version not cutting it for you? Trade the old partner in for a new sportier model. Take the shiny one out for a sex drive and put it through all the gears. I don’t know; this one’s just not working for me.

What person wants to be treated that way? Certainly not the one to which I am married.

Relationships are not products to be purchased or commodities to be exchanged. I don’t buy low and sell high. The same rules do not apply

So if I want to know if prayer works, I need to first honestly determine whether or not I am buying it as a product. If the merchandise of prayer is not getting me what I want, I should be allowed to trade it in or take it back for a refund, shouldn’t I? According to that line of logic, I say absolutely. But this is where one must take account of a fundamental paradigm.

Our quest for answers and resolution has jeopardized our ability to adequately understand the Divine. God as a Person will be comprehended differently than God as a Brand.