Photos on the fridge

I got a missions publication in the mail yesterday from an organization with which some of my friends serve. Though I hadn't seen this particular magazine in a few years, I still had a similar default reaction as I leafed through it. I felt guilty. I used to think I felt guilty because I wasn't orienting my life to follow suit with the people in the pictures and stories. I also thought it might be because for years I bought into the idea that God calls everyone to go and since He didn't really tell me to stay or go, then it would be safe to just say that I am disobedient. I also wondered if the guilt had anything to do with a lack of zeal for the condition of the world, and a general hard-heartedness I possessed. I now don't think it was any of these. I feel guilty because its easier to want to be someone other than yourself. I've always carried with me a buried feeling of not being enough to really make God smile. I found it hard to accept that the things I was good at actually had a place in God's Kingdom. God needed preachers of the gospel, not a gardener or a lover of nature or a guy who could make memorable beer and pesto. I constantly compared myself to people who witnessed better, spoke better, served better, led better, and deceived myself into thinking I needed to be like them. God was happier with my friends in Nepal than He was with me. I admire folks who live cross-culturally with the purpose of helping people find faith. I love their newsletters. I read their blogs. I stick their pictures on my fridge. But slowly I am doing away with the notion that I have to be like them. To do so diminishes their giftedness, their calling, their passion and their unique place in the story.. ..as well as mine.

Which stack do I put this one?

I work a cruddy job. The biggest thing I don't like about it is not having enough to do to fill the day. I could probably do all that needed to be done in about 4 hours, but rules are rules, and I need to stay 8. I learned very quickly to never ask the supervisor if there is anything extra that needs to be done when I have run out of things to do, else I will find myself cleaning out carts that don't need cleaning or sweeping floors that I swept that morning. Instead, I stick to my responsibilities and stretch them out to fit the time I have and thus fly under the radar. One of my most favorite concepts in the New Testament is the idea of the priesthood of believers, that is, every person of faith has direct access into the holiest of places, and therein can speak to and receive directly from the Almighty. This puts us all on equal standing. But somewhere in the task of equipping these saints, have we put more emphasis on training them to do church work than on finding out what these dear people are hearing from God and in turn, helping get them into position to serve out of that calling. In some ways, I wonder if we have problems motivating men to serve because they see church like my job, nothing much important to do, yet fearful of saying anything because they don't just want to do grunt work for which there seems to be no point. The intent is good, I guess, but how much can we really find out about a man's heart by having him fill out a spiritual gift survey? We teach a class, hand out a multiple-choice quiz, pick them all up and sort them out. All the teachers are put in the children's ministry stack. All the servants are placed in the children's ministry stack. All the merciful are piled on top of these in the children's ministry stack. All the prophets are round filed. All the leaders are stamped with a question mark and the rest are divided up among the staff. We as leaders must keep in mind that everyone by faith has access to the presence and voice of God. Do we encourage them to listen and trust them to act on what they hear, even if it does not fit into our program? Or will we somehow just try and fit them into what we are doing?

Learning to say "Ouch"

I obviously think and talk alot about the Church and the condition she is in. One might assume that its out of my own woundedness that I write, and that would be partly accurate. I have my share of stories of how I've been hurt by others, but I would be a fool to think that someone else out there is not telling the same type of story because of some way I have offended them. But this isn't my point. I have much to say about the Church because I want so much for Her. I know people who have been severely let down by the Church as an entity or by particular representatives of Hers and they have never gotten over it. The pain led to despair and despair has a crippling effect on the soul. When I meet someone like this, I always try to listen for one particular element in their story: Desire. Our worst pain comes at the point of our strongest longings. I had lunch with a guy one day and was going on about my current frustration with the Church, when he stopped me and said, "Man, I like church. I don't know what you're talking about?" I realized the conversation wouldn't go much further because he could not see my desire through the pain that I was offering. He assumed I was demanding an "either/or" proposition. There was tension in the conversation between me and my experience and his, which many folks take to mean either I'm right or he is. I'm not fighting for everyone to agree with me, because that's not how I see the problem. I think I am asking for, and hopefully extending, the permission to say, "Ouch. If we or someone we know has been wounded or let down by the Church or Her servants, we should be able to say, "Ouch, that hurt!" And with most wounds, we want to figure out how to not let that happen again. One path to prevention is to give up and say the Church is full of hypocrites and live in bitterness toward Her. Another way is to figure out how to hold grief for the pain in one hand (because the wound matters) and not let go of the hope for a better future in the other.

Father's Day and the New Leviticus

Here's where I get confused with the whole law thing. My years of reading the New Testament as the New Leviticus left me searching for commands I was not obeying, rules I was not following, sins I was not confessing, promises I was not holding to and attitudes that needed adjusting. I don't know why I didn't catch this earlier, but it finally dawned on me that I'm not going to be able to make this work, despite what preachers and teachers wanted me to think. I really got worn out going to church and hearing yet again about how much I suck and walk away wondering why did I show up today? The worst was always Father's Day, when you go and they hand you a little screwdriver at the door with a little impersonal Xeroxed note attached, saying something about the nobility of being a dad, only to encounter a sermon reminding you of what a poor dad you are and here are 7 steps you are unable to take or 7 promises you will never be able to keep. I feel like such a bad person for pointing this kind of stuff out, because from my vantage point, guys seems to be OK with all of it. I conclude this because they keep showing up, subjecting themselves to the treatment. It's kinda like a procto-exam. If you know the prostate is working good, do I really need the doc have me bend over and check me out every week? Yet guys are still all lined up. The New Leviticus says don't neglect assembling together, but does it have anything to say about neglecting assembly that is a waste of time, and creating or pursuing assembly that inspires, heals, motivates, and encourages instead of inflicting guilt, passivity and numbness?

Trust and Belief

In my life, I can think of only a handful of people who I felt really believed in me. These were people who, because of their belief, enabled me to think better of myself. I don't know where I would be without them thinking more highly of me than I was capable of thinking. I probably wouldn't be married. When I first met her, I thought she was too good looking for me (hot wasn't really a term we used back then). She had a way of lighting up the room when she entered. All eyes turned her direction, especially mine. But that's about as far as it went. There was no possible way such an attractive, winsome woman would ever be interested in balding, pale, blotchy skinned me. I didn't believe. But Mike was one of those guys who saw what I didn't see, and made it a point to ask me a question I'll never forget: "Does Karen have a boyfriend?" "No," I replied. "Have you ever thought about doing something about that?" He believed in me, believed that I would be a good match for this woman I thought was way over my head. I kinda think this is what Jesus wants to do with us. He wants to shed a Law from us, which tells us what we can't do, and give us a new Spirit that sets us free to become what we alone could never imagine. I think this is why the whole Law is fulfilled in one word. to be continued...

Understanding the New Leviticus

If we as followers of Jesus are indeed free from the Law, why is it we have a tendency toward wanting rules to keep us in line. What is it about being legalistic that becomes appealing? I think I have an idea. We live according to laws everyday. Law is useful. Law brings order to societies. It ensures that the bad guys get punished by protecting its citizens. Keeping the Law in society is a good thing. If I don't speed, I don't have to pay a ticket. If I don't traffic meth, I can stay out of jail and sleep in my own bed. This sounds good to me. But ultimately, Law is based on distrust. We don't trust our people of our society to live in such a way that puts the concern of others ahead of their own. So we have to set things like speed limits, and ban certain substances because we can't trust them to drive at safe speeds on their own or avoid drugs that will inevitably bring harm to themselves and others. Wherever there is distrust, there is disbelief. "I don't trust you" means I don't believe you are good or are capable of coming through. This might true in the earthly kingdom, but in the Kingdom of God, there is no place for either of these. In Jesus' realm of rule, we are free because he has set us free. He believes in us. He trusts in us. He does things like give us a Great Commission and then heads for home. He is saying, "You are now my friends, not slaves. Live in your freedom. Become all I've created you to be. Live freely in such a way that a world in bondage can't imagine why they would not follow me." Do I not treat myself with this same distrust and disbelief? And is it safe to say that I distrust and disbelieve myself the most because I know who I am better than anyone? What keeps me from accepting the fact that in Christ I am actually a new person with a new heart that can be trusted? Is this why I feel I need the Law to keep me in line? to be continued...

Erring on the side of law

When I was in college, there were catch phrases that floated around our community. These were little nuggets of information that indicated an agreement with the values of the group. Some of them were: -"Either this book will keep you from sin, or sin will keep you from this book." -"Use your twenties for training." -"You can't soar with the eagles if you hoot with the owls." There was another idea that existed that I accepted as gospel truth, but for the life of me I can't understand why. The phrase was, "I'd rather err on the side of law than on the side of grace." This meant that one was better than the other, and that if I were to take sides, I would take the side of discipline, of hard work and of right and wrong. It never dawned on me to break down this logic. First, if a person is going to make an error, does it really matter which side the error falls? It's still an error. Yet in my communityt, one side was more preferable and it was clear what side that was. This must be why ideas about grace were fairly limited. I got the part that we are saved by grace, but missed the memo on how to live by grace. Second, doesn't the law lead to death? So why did we as eager college students feel so compelled to go there? No wonder all conversation in our accountability groups centered around all our personal failures. We were trying to keep a law, and law doesn't lead to life. This is the path we were led. And its funny how I find myself wanting to defend my past by wondering how much I would have learned about the Bible and discipline with out that experience. But isn't that kind of like the slave being grateful for the master's whip because it taught him obedience? Again, this assumes that with out the law, the person cannot be trusted to do the right thing. to be continued...

The New Leviticus

This is a subject I've hesitated to write or even talk about, because of its controversial nature. I fear being misunderstood, but that kind of fear only leads to bondage, even though it will probably mean that I will continue to burn bridges of opportunity with the community I have been associated with most of my life. The problem stems from one simple verse in the New Testament. For the whole Law is fulfilled in one word, in the statement, " YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF." Is it really that simple? I have never been led to consider the idea that the believer in Christ has the Spirit indwelling, and within that new relationship is the basis of all new life, faith, hope and love. There has always been added an assumption that the Spirit is not enough to guide me away from sin, away from my flesh and the influence of the world. I don't know if I am alone in this, but I am waking to this assumption and am starting to ask questions, ones that are leading to new freedom in Christ personally, but alienation from some of His people. I think back to the days of new faith at age 17, when I finally decided that the way of Jesus was the way for me. Life radically changed after that. I experienced that new relationship with the Spirit. Things were different. I made new decisions accordingly. I was thrilled. Then, a few months later, I entered college, found a student ministry right away and was shaped by its emphasis on Scripture and personal discipline. And somewhere along the way was handed me the huge assumption that I am fundamentally a bad person and am one step away from spiritual disaster. What this resulted in was a focus on everything negative, and the Bible became a type of law to follow. I was encouraged to read it and look for things I'm not doing right, which only served to reinforce the assumption that I am a screw up. Fear of letting God down in some way became the norm, and the Bible daily showed me every way that I was failing Him. So to do better I took copious notes on every expository sermon I heard, not wanting to miss anything that might keep me from sinning. I made sure I read my bible every day (first thing of a morning) so I would not blow it somehow. I memorized countless verses so I would find success. But it didn't work and I couldn't figure out why. I still struggled with the same problems. I was still anxious. I was afraid of people, and ultimately afraid of God. Then it dawned on me, that maybe the reason I struggled so much with what was called my "walk with God" was the fact that I was still chained to the Law. I was reading the New Testament as the New Leviticus. Had I merely exchanged one law for a new one? To be continued...

My Christian Porn

I have a confession to make. This morning I was listening to Christian radio again. I know I shouldn't. It doesn't help me. I don't really know why I do it. Its just a form of porn for me, I guess. I have some sick need in me to feel right, so I seek out ways to disagree so I can feel better about myself. But I was really disturbed in what I heard today. It's probably why I felt compelled to keep listening, when I knew I should tune the truck radio back to sports talk radio. It was the man's anger. I mean, he was livid. He went on and on about how pastors are failing the church and society because they don't manage their household. He continued by saying that the majority of pastors should leave the ministry because of their children, adding that the term "PK" has come to be equated with unruly kids. He made it clear that in no uncertain terms that this is a sin and an abomination. I'm a dad of two kids. I love them dearly and I do my best to let them know daily that they are loved and that life does not revolve around them. I realize that they, in spite of all my love and affection, have choices to make. With my son, when he would disobey or disrespect his mom, I would explode in anger. It never really worked with him. The angrier I got, the more distant he became and the more he rebelled. I blamed it all on his choices and lack of respect. It didn't dawn on my that my attempts to intimidate him into obedience were not going to work. He was too strong. I needed a new approach. I worry about the teaching of angry guys like this one on the radio today. Sure, they may have their "household in order." But maybe in reality the kids are just scared to death of dad. Obedience, yes, but at what price. Some would say that doesn't matter. I think it does. It is God's kindness that leads us to repentance. His anger is justified, but its not what does the trick in getting us to move back to him. What was equally disturbing were the radio hosts, who commented after the tirade, "Boy that guy can preach. He went from preachin' to meddlin'." Maybe that's what they call it. They went on to make a generous offer of sending the CD of this message to your pastor if you send in a love gift. I wondered if I should pray for the pastors who would get the tape, that it would not become an ever greater chain on their burden of trying to raise their kids. It left me sad, not inspired to change.

Teaching Theory without Experience

The older I get, the less certain it seems I am. I thought it would be the other way around. In my 20's I knew everything. Now, in my 40's, I often feel clueless. Could this be that what I held to be true in the past had never really been tested in the realm of faith? Now that I am at a point in life where my faith really matters, or at least seems to be called upon in a more relevant way, I am getting the opportunity to decide what I want to believe and what I want to discard as irrelevant. Take this song that I wrote back in 1994 as a theme for a student retreat titled, Uncharted Waters. The idea we tried to communicate was trusting God in the unknown. I wrote these lyrics in theory. They did not flow from any personal experience, only out of what I hoped to be true, or what I was taught to be true. UNCHARTED WATERS ©Kevin Shinn, 2006 [click here for mp3] Set to sail, It's time to board On a lifelong journey we can't afford The trip is set, the plans are made We need not worry, the cost is paid He will lead us through uncharted waters He will lead us deep into the sea Knowing all the time the treasures we will find Are waiting for us only if we go. What will we face as we explore Away from safety of the shore Teach us, Lord, if we fear change Nothing ventured nothing gained The winds of worry, the storms of doubt The Prince of Darkenss toss us about But our Captain, faithful and true Will protect us and lead us through I listened to this song again last week and was struck by my naievte. I think I wrote Truth, but Truth that had never been tested. This is why I envy guys who can teach. I can't ever imagine not being haunted by this question, "Do I really know what the hell I'm talking about?" The notion that experience was anything we could rely on was grilled into me as evil. Truth is truth, regardless of experience, but thinking this way made me conflicted. The little choo-choo train diagram set me up for derailment. I became an engineer of ideas that I could not back up from experience. If I ever found myself in combat, I would feel better about following the guy who has actually been shot at than the guy who wrote three books on warfare, but never aimed a gun in his life. I was on my way to being the latter.

WWSED?

guymuse posted a question asking why so many church plants fail. I've never planted a church, so I can't speak with any authority, but what I am getting a first had education is in the process of resurrection, or in simple terms, being raised from the dead. While I've not been to the grave and back, I have been to a type of Sheol in my soul, a very dark place where not much is alive. Needless to say its not a good place to be, but good can be pulled from it. Along the path to this grave I wore a little bracelet with the initials on it, "WWSED?" These stood for "What would someone else do?" I am amazed at the amount of things I've done in life because someone thought it was a good idea, or I received strong counsel, or because I didn't think my idea was good enough. I followed my ideas mainly if they were validated by another person. So my bracelet eventually became a handcuff, keeping me chained up on the road to a personal hell. I'm not sure if I totally agree with the idea of WWJD. I understand the concept of lordship, of submission to authority, of surrender, but there is a lot of conjecture that we have to embrace if we carry this out too far. For example, there was a lot that Jesus was silent on. He didn't have much to say about cars, or brushing alone is good enough without flossing, or how much TV you should watch, or if Christians can say the word "suck." I may be totaly wrong here, but something tells me Jesus was pretty quiet on so much because He wanted to see what WE would do. Maybe the bracelet should say, "WWYD?", or "what would you do?" Is Jesus asking each of us for our ideas, not what someone else thinks? To address guymuse's question, I wonder if so many church plants fail because we are trying to do what someone else has done. We assume since the experts said it, or wrote it, or taught it at seminary, so it must be right. I want to believe that if I am born of the Spirit, then that means I am one, a brand new person (the old is passed) and two I can live deeply from that newly empowered heart. Would we see more thriving churches if they were led by people who were truly raised from the dead?

Inspiration

I need to believe that every person carries with them a need to be inspired. Just as the lungs need to continually be filled with oxygen-supplying air, so the soul must have constant inflow of inspiration to keep it vital. It's interesting to me in the story of the Dry Bones in Ezekiel, that the skeletons in the dusty valley were still considered dead inspite the fact that they had supernaturally been formed together into an army. The real difference came when breath entered them, when they were inspired. Inspiration changed everything. I often feel like that vision, simply walking dead bones, no life, just existence. It's why I'm learning to seek the air I need. Riding my bike used to be optional, now it is necessity. A walk on the trail through the wildflowers is no longer a waste of time. It's imperative. Stopping to literally smell the roses is not jsut a cute saying cross-stitched on a pillow. It's real life. It's my inspiration. Thank God for the iPod as a deliverer of regular breaths of inspiration. I rarely do anywhere without it. Three things I grab as I leave the house: keys, cell phone, iPod (wallet optional). It used to be the "mix tape" back in the '80s, now its the playlist. If I'm ever stranded on a desert island with playlist, here's what I hope I would have updated in the player: 10. Better Way - Ben Harper Most recent on this list. "I believe in a better way." 9. Up to the Roof - Blue Man Group Saw Blue Man in Vegas 6 yrs ago and was never the same. This song is off The Complex CD. "I'd rather look at the sky than wonder why I let you take my time." 8. Hippie Boy - Caroline's Spine. Just simply a well written song. You can feel the writer's longing. He couldn't have made this up. It's got to be from experience. "Come sit beside me, tell me the things you adore, but please don't remind me that I am not the boy you'd hoped for." 7) Holy Visitation - Charlie Hall The song that spoke my name. "Sound the alarm, awaken the watchmen, open their ears, let their voices be loud." 6) Acquiese - Oasis Reminds me of the importance of what we are fighting for in each other. "We need each other, we believe in one another, and I know we're gonna uncover what's sleeping in our souls." 5) Freedom Fighter - Creed I don't listen to this while driving, else I find myself with an impulse to speed. "Freedom fighter, no remorse, waging on in holy war, soon there'll come a day, when you're face to face with me." 4) Make a Joyful Noise - David Crowder I love the image of running wild and free, refusing to be silent. "and I will not be silent..." 3) Drive By - Glen Phillips Former Toad the Wet Sprocket singer turned solo. Given to me by my buddy Scott West as his song of the year. Every guy has prayed this prayer. 2) I AM - Joseph Arthur Thanks to Paul Steinke for turning me on to this artist. "To find out what you really are, speak the words, I AM." 1) Spies - Coldplay I also have Paul to thank for loaning me this disc back in 1999. This song never fails to inspire me and remind me that "when the spies come out of the water, they can't touch you, cause they're just spies."

Marked by Music

I have a little activity I like to do in a small group setting that usually results in an encouraging display. I give everyone a Sharpie marker and ask them to make a mark on every person's hand in the group. It could be initials, a smiley face, etc. In the end each person should have as many marks on their hand as there are people in the group. Once this is complete, I explain how all of us have been "marked" by others in our life in some way, and we carry that mark with us. This then leads to an opportunity for the group to share how each other has marked them. It always seems to have a good effect. My current job is pretty boring, but the upside of it is that it gives me lots of time to think. So I've been thinking about how I have been "marked" by various influences. I started with music, and tried to list some significant works that had a huge impact on me. This is not a "I recommend" list, because it may not be the enduring quality of the music that was influential, but rather the point along my journey when I encountered it. Here are my top 5: 1. Styx - Crystal Ball (LP) Released in 1976, I'm 13 yrs old. This record actually belonged to my sister, but when she wasn't around, I would put it on the hi-hi and crank it to eleven. It was my first experience of having music make me feel something, almost drug-like. The music took me somewhere. I was hooked. "...play me loud, don't you worry 'bout your neighbors, hope I make you feel good all day long..." 2. John Rutter - Requiem In 1989, I opted to take choral music instead of music history in seminary. Two hours of singing once a week with no homework sounded better to me than three hours of lecture, plus tests. Rutter's Requiem was our material. I was ambushed by the beauty. There were many rehearsals where I was moved to tears, which was a little embarassing and hard to try and explain. 3. Dennis Jernigan - I belong to Jesus (CD) When I was in college, several students found their way to Western Hills Baptist Church in Oklahoma City. But I was warned of that place being charismatic, because of some guy named Jernigan who led worship that was a little touchy-feely. So I never went. Around 1993, I came across this album, and I recognized the name. I finally saw what I had been allowed to miss. His music was so intimate, and was forever marked by it. 4. David Gray - White Ladder - (CD) Released in 1999. I bought this before my trip to China. This is before the days of iPod, so I kept the disc sealed until I got on the plane. His songs struck a chord with me as I was entering a dark time of life. I listened over and over again. "It takes a lotta love, to keep your heart from freezin', to push on to the end." 5. Moby - Play (CD) Given to me by a co-worker in 1999, this introduced me to the world of electronica, in which I am totally immersed now. Moby combined lyrics of old spiritual songs into modern electronic beats and sounds. Many a night was spent chilling in deep space with this disc. It influence the way I make music now.

Worship and Miles Davis

A few years ago, one of the guys who worked with me on collegiate ministry staff asked me what music was I listening to that led me to a sense of worship. I gave him some standard Vineyard CD that I liked, not thinking much of it. I returned his question. He said Miles Davis. I thought his answer was a bit odd, since my cultural framework had put his music in the "jazz" genre and not on the "praise and worship" list. I asked him to explain. He told me that it was the beauty of the sound these musicians created together that drew his soul into a place of gratitude for a God that put His image into humanity. My response was, "Huh." I thought music had to be "Christian" in some way in order for me to deem it OK to worship with. I also assumed that words of songs had to say something about how great God is and how much I suck and so forth. My paradigm was pretty rigid and I was completely unaware that it was. But it took a guy who I was supposed to helping learn ministry to teach me something about myself and to open my mind up a bit. The shift was slow, but I now see what he meant by beauty leading to worship. I bought a Miles Davis CD, Kind of Blue, and can say that it changed my life. I did a little research on the album, which is not hard to do since there is so much written about it. Music experts point to this album as arguably the most influential work on music today. The short of it is this, up until 1959, jazz continued to progress in a more and more complex direction. Bop gave way to be bop, which led to hard bop. All these styles had very intricate chordal structures. Davis suddenly took jazz in a completely opposite direction. He moved toward a simpler approach. The structure of his songs would be based on single note scales, or modes, rather than multiple note chords. What this did was free the musician to explore more freely the improvisational landscape. Davis said of chordal jazz, "once you master knowing how to play through the changes, the music gets boring." Jazz traditionalists balked at the idea, saying it would make jazz too easy, that it would discourage young players from the discipline of learning the standards. Some seasoned players hated modal jazz, because they didn't know what to do with it. It was just too different from what they were used to. The album made a splash then and it still sells well today. Some experts say that even modern electronica and techno has its root in that album, because of its modal structure. Everytime I hear the opening track of Kind of Blue, I get goose bumps. I picture these jazz giants in the studio who were there for just another gig because the trusted Davis' leadership. They had no idea they were about to make history. They weren't concerned with what the music world would think. They had music to make. Interestingly, that opening cut is titled, "So What."

Church and Cracker Barrel

There is a school of thought that seeks change back to the way things used to be. I would guess this has existed in every generation in history. It seems to human nature, that when we reach a certain age in life, we tend to look back on a previous era as better, more preferable than our situation in current times. Cracker Barrel makes its living on this. They have created an environment for older folks to think back on simpler times. And I really like going there, not just to eat, but to wonder what life really would be like if we could turn the clock back a little. But we must be very careful about wanting "the good old days" back. Leaders paint pictures of the day where we had prayer in school and stores were closed on Sunday, and they tell us how we need to return to these days and "take American back for Christ." It seems noble, but I'm not sure its a good idea. Here's why. Both Solomon and Isaiah warn their readers about this kind of thinking. They called it unwise to think like this. I believe its because this is not faith thinking out loud. Faith yearns for what is unseen, not what is seen. If we only want to return to a time we've seen before, we go back to a visible past, not a hopeful, faithful future. I did a wedding this summer where I kept this idea in mind as I planned what I would say during the ceremony. I wanted to say a few words to the parents at the beginning because they are experiencing not only joy, but also a bit of grief as they see their child finally leave the family in order to cleave to another and create a new expression of family. I told the parents that one way we make the transition easier on ourselves and our children is when we allow our dreams for them to greater than our memories. If we keep wanting what was, our children will never really grow up. They will stay small in our minds. But if we, by faith, believe that better days lie ahead for them, it forces us to release them to fulfill that vision. Leaders must have greater dreams for the Church than memories. This kind of thinking will lead to, as Jesus predicted, "doing greater things than these."

Faith and NASCAR

As leaders of change, I believe it is imperative that we have a keen grasp on the distinction between faith and culture. Much of what is done in the name of faith could simply be a function of cultural practice, and have absolutely nothing to do with faith. Every social group, regardless of size has a culture. Culture is the set of rules, values and practices unique to that Group. The US has a national culture, while the South has a regional culture. Sports like NASCAR have a culture (which I don't yet get). My home state of Oklahoma has a different culture than my state of residence, Nebraska. My work place has a culture, and smaller still, my family has a culture. We are most aware of culture when it is different from our own. The first sign of culture shock is when you find yourself uttering the phrase, "Why do they do it that way?" (again, NASCAR) This especially happens in marriage, as two family cultures collide. (I always thought there was a "right" way to fold a towel) It's part of why so many marriages fail. There is an inability to recognize culture and, together by faith, move toward change for the sake of something better. The Church is no different in this way than any other social subset. We like to think that we are New Testament based or doctrinally true to orthodox practice as if there is some generic standard that people who are right follow, but any expression of the Body of Christ is going to be flavored by the culture of its context. Saturday, I went to two weddings back to back and saw cultural distinction first hand. The first was a hippie wedding held outdoors in a city park. There was no direction for those attending, no PA so you couldn't hear over the wind whistling through the trees. It started late, but the ceremony eventually happened and I assumed, barring any legal snafu, they were officially married. Two hours later at the big Congregational Church, the second ceremony started on time, lasted precisely 17 minutes. Ushers directed people out of the sanctuary per row. It was tidy, neat and orderly. A contrast in culture, but they, too, were officially married. I believe this idea this was in Jesus' question stated in Luke, "when the Son of Man returns, will he find faith?" He's not looking for good morals or if we had deacons and baptized properly. And if faith is what He will be looking for, it will do us well to begin to sort through what is faith and what is just culture.

Culture Shock

One of my most memorable courses in college was Intercultural Communication. It was taught by an eccentric Native American who had a unique way of getting you to see your own cultural biases when compared to a culture different from your own. The thing I took away from this experience was accepting the importance of culture in creating a sustainable way of life. Culture includes the rules we follow each day with out even thinking about them. I interact with women everyday that wear jewlery of some kind. Piercings are common, so much so that I could not tell you what earrings my wife had in last night. But had she come home with a plate in her lip, like the Mursi of Ethiopia, it would have made a huge impression. The reason is because it goes against our cultural rules. Earring, OK. Lip Plate, not so much. We need culture to help us save time in decision making. I got up this morning and put on cargo shorts and a polo. I didn't have to think, "should I wear a loin cloth, or a towel or the ever popular modesty gourd." The food I choose to eat fits into a cultural category, as does most every other part of my day. While I've never experienced it quite like my friends who have lived for an extended period of time in a country outside their culture of origin, I am familiar with the idea of culture shock. It is an upsetting experience. Nothing is familiar anymore. People around you don't speak your language. You get stared at. You're not quite sure how to act. It helps me to process this drastic season of personal, career, and spiritual change in such terms. I have left my country of origin, which is the church as we know it, to make my home in a new culture and see if the Kingdom can be advanced with in it. All I have right now is what was left behind. I have no experience in this new culture we are trying to create. I can remember how things were and compare them to how things are. This is the nature of many of my posts. Thanks for reading and commenting. It helps me more than you know.

Leading from a Distance

I got a postcard in the mail yesterday announcing a new church start in our hometown. It was almost predictable when I saw it on our kitchen table. Very slick publication, heavyweight paper, high resolution photo, text written in a way to try and be hip, or at least somewhat in touch and funny, map to location (middle school auditorium), an appeal to attend and find out how to balance all the pressures of life and finally, anonymously addressed to "our friends at..." I can't say I'm bothered by the mailer, or even think there's anything wrong with it, but something doesn't sit right with me anymore when I see those kinds of things. I must give others the benefit of the doubt and not force them to ask the same questions I am asking. So please don't view this as a judgement on the mailer. See it as one man's attempt to reconcile his own inner tension. I used to be able to subscribe to those kinds of techniques, but today it seems so very impersonal. I gave a lot of years of my life to "leading from a distance." What I mean by that term is being up front and public, speaking or leading music to an audience that I really didn't know. To look out over a crowd of people is pretty thrilling, and to think they are willing to listen to what you have to say is good for the ego, but something about it was very unfulfilling. it always left me wondering what the impact was. How would I ever know? Nice advice would be given to stay faithful and remember that the LORD sees your work, but that never really satisfied. I think I'm yearning for more direct contact with people, to "lead up close." I used to love being in front of a bunch of people. I recently had a guy call me to be an interim worship leader for their church, but I turned him down. I just can't imagine ever doing it again. I enjoy people I interact with at work, and the conversations I have there much more. But I'm not convinced that this shift is all good.

Don't Worry About Who Gets Credit

We spend a lot of energy on stuff that doesn't really matter. I found this out once I made the decision to not need hair anymore. Don't assume that I mean that hair is unimportant. For as much grief as it causes my wife, I still would rather her spend time on her hair than be married to a bald woman. But for me, hair proved to be one thing I could check off the list as "been there, done that." I feel fortunate that God gave me a decent skull. If I were single, I might have moved to Vegas and tried out for Blue Man Group. I think my melon fits their profile. No protrusions or odd lumps that hair was needed to cover. I know its a weird thing to be thankful for, but wait til you go bald and you'll see for yourself. What does this have to do with anything? Probably nothing, but the point I'm making is that once I decided I didn't need hair any longer, I had more energy to spend on something else in the morning. I don't have to wash it every day, or style it, or even comb it. I don't know how many hours that adds up to, but I've grown accustomed to the freedom. Such it is when we don't worry about getting credit for everything we do. What does it matter if you know what you're capable of, if you know the outcome of your work was good? And if someone does take credit for your ideas, you still have the upper hand. You can sleep at night. The loser who stole has more to worry about, more image to maintain, more to cover up. Kinda like a guy with a fat, lumpy skull.

Admitting When You're Wrong

A lot of leadership advice I've been handed doesn't have as much to do with creating an authentic core as it does with being afraid of what people will think of someone in your postion or worry over how a particular action will be perceived. I've heard of leaders doing things like limiting their salary or giving away proceeds from a book, only to give the reason that it was not necessarily out of conviction, but out of fear that the leader would be seen as greedy or profit-hungry. The decision is to prove a point. Success does bring with it lots of challenges like this, but if it ever comes my way, I hope I will be the kind that will make decisions on what I believe is good, regardless if I am in the limelight or not. Admitting when you're wrong is one such decision. Some passive personalities can use it as an easy out. Easier to take blame than to fight through to the solution. Yet I find most leaders don't have this problem. There is something about being right that fuels a competitive edge. [It's probably what helps make the person a leader.] We try and spin the situation in our favor, because being right somehow becomes the goal. I found new freedom when I found that there are more important things in life than being right.

Cry When Something Hurts

From my vantage point, there are two Christian vices that are most acceptable: Gluttony and Anger. I wish I had kept track of the number of fat, angry pastors over the years giving convincing sermons on the evils of alcohol or divorce or not home-schooling your kids or rock music or not memorizing enough Scripture, only to brag about how good the food will be at the church picnic and how much of it they are going eat. [To be fair, wouldn't it have been great, like weight is to gluttony, if God created some visible response to lust, such as your skin turning green each time you engaged in a lustful thought or action. This way we would all be green AND overweight.] On the other side of anger lies sadness, and here is where it is most difficult to turn. It's more vulnerable to be sad than angry, which is why I think we see more of it in the church than grief. Alot of anger gets justified by Jesus' entry into the temple and turning over the tables of the moneychangers, but you've got to know that after that event, Jesus must have been very, very sad. Sure, its conjecture on my part, but I imagine him crying in prayer later, saying to the Father, "This is not how its supposed to be..." Anger and sadness are always connected. So now when I see an angry pastor or leader, I also see a sad one, and I wonder if he ever gives himself permission to be sad and grieve the source of his anger. I think this is why crying is a gift to us from God. Tears are wordless expressions of sorrow, since words seem to always fall short when we are sad, which is why I try and keep my words at a minimum now at funerals. Tears will suffice. I can't help but think that the church would be in better shape if it cried more.

Laugh When Something is Funny

One of the misperceptions of God that I have had to overcome over the years is that God is pissed off all the time. The environment you grow up in has an insidious effect on how you view life, and since many of my influences in school were angry ones, I think I just develped a fear of people in authority, a fear that I would always let them down, thereby making them angry. God bless children, since they teach us as much about who God is than any preacher. I'm especially thankful for my two. I think I know God better now because of them. I don't do it much anymore, but I used to listen to Christian radio. I'm not sure why, since it didn't make me a better one; just call it impulse. One day my daughter and I were going somewhere in the car, and I was listening to a well-known radio preacher. I can't tell you what he was saying, but I clearly remember what my daughter said: "Daddy, can we not listen to the angry guy anymore?" The angry guy. What was she hearing that I was accustomed to? Fast forward to dinner Monday night. I asked my son to give thanks for our food. He agreed and began... Dear Lord baby Jesus. I nearly soiled myself. To explain, he and I had just seen Talledaga Nights, in which a scene where Will Ferrell says a prayer over a meal in the same way. Sacrilege to some, maybe. To me, hilarious. (Of course, context plays a huge role in any humor.) There was a time when I probably would have scolded him for being irreverant, all the while inside really wishing I could laugh. Had I done that, which of us would have been more authentic?

Did you hear about the.....?

Change should be my middle name these days. since that's what I find myself in the middle of. I'm afraid if I took one of those stress indicator tests that rate the amount of life altering events you've been through, it would probably show that I should be committed. In my case, ignorance is bliss. I don't want a visit from the men in white coats looking to outfit me with a new sportcoat. I look at my life and monitor the major events of the past year, such as changing careers, being unemployed, losing my father, my wife being unemployed only to find a high-stress job (which is worse?) All these are external changes. They are significant, but in comparison to the internal changes that are going on, they are not as crucial. A popular topic for Christian leaders to talk about is the need for revival in the church. But the conversation usually revolves around what other people are doing. Like... The Church has lost her first love... Pastors are using the church for professional gain... How could he lead a church and do what he did in secret...? This is the easy work of identifying the need for change, pointing out what someone else should be doing. But real change won't occur this way, not until leaders change at their core. A reader recently asked me what it means to have an authentic core. I could have filled several pages with a really good theological answer a few years ago, but I settle for more simplified answers today. To me, being authentic is: 1. Laughing when something is funny. 2. Crying when something hurts. 3. Admitting when you're wrong. 4. Don't worry about getting credit for a job well done. These are the changes I'm going through internally. I'll expand on them later.

New name, same old stuff?

www.churchmarketingsucks.com Does this website seem a little off to anyone else but me? I find it odd to see a website dedicated to the bashing of a practice while itself unashamedly utilizing the very same techniques it holds in contempt. I'm as much for change as anyone. I think the church as a culture is in need of awakening. But a lot of what I see that comes along in the name of change is not necessarily a fundamentally different approach. One of my favorites over the years are the great claims in worship music, boasting that it is "fresh" or "cutting edge, when you find out its only just another way to rhyme "king" with "sing" and "adore" with "forevemore." New churches that spring up can say they are doing church differently, but the only thing that might be different is aesthetics. They still meet on Sundays (or maybe Saturday in a warehouse) and listen to one guy speak after singing a few songs. The only real distinction is that they lit a bunch of candles and dimmed the lights a bit. Real change has got to come from an authentic core. Being an approval junkie, I worried a bit about yesterday's post, fearing that my honesty may come back to bite me, but therein lies much of the problem with the church, of which I have been a contributor. These posts are an attempt to get the log out of my own eye first. I wish these guys well at their effort of initiating change. I just think I'll go about it a different way.

the [e-word]

The one thing that caused me the most guilt in ministry was the [e-word]. I have probably felt more shame over the [e-word] than anything in my life. And like most shameful experiences, you feel led to hide (remember Adam and Eve?) My attempt to be a good Baptist Evangelical led me to try and try and try, but I always seemed to come up short. I was never confident enough, certainly not pushy. I can't argue a point very well. Most of the time I found myself listening to a person instead of getting a Summary of the Story across. I had good conversations many times, but there was no place on the report form for those. Reports were a big deal in my circle, and it seemed the most important thing anyone ever wanted to know was how many times did I share a Summary of the Story, and how many made a positive decision based on that presentation. So you know what I did? I lied. Yes, I lied many times over. I took credit for stuff I shouldn't have. I fudged the numbers so I would look good and hopefully keep my job. All this because of the shame I felt for my ineffectiveness at the [e-word]. To this day I don't know what to do with that shame. At least I am out of a vocation that requires that kind of reporting, which led me to feel like I had to be deceptive. I envy people who are effective at the [e-word]. It's why I don't feel I could never be a missionary or even a paid pastor again. The freedom from feeling the need to lie is better than the pressure of having to perform a task I am not gifted to do.

Washing Dishes

It dawned on the this morning around 5:18am, while I was sitting on my patio in the dark getting ready to go to what I call my 8 1/2 hr prison, that part of my current struggle of life is over the issue of my identity, or simply put, what do I think of myself? For several years my faith was directly attached to what I did as a minister. There was a built-in motivation to pray or study the Scripture because it was my job and if I didn't then I wouldn't be doing what I was paid to do. This behavior became normal. I was what I did and what I did became my identity. Then came the tearing away of that identity. 11 months ago I started my current job, one that I took out of desperation of needing some kind of income. My first day on the job I found myself in the dishroom of a college dorm cafeteria washing dishes. While this was not what I was hired to do, its all there was for me to do that day. So there I was, elbow deep in institutional strength Dawn dishsoap, scrubbing pans with deaf mute woman and a severely autistic young man. All I could think of was, "What have I gotten myself into?" It was a plunge into the icy deep. I felt like the newest member of the Polar Bear Club. My identity was stripped. I am no longer Worship Leader that writes cool songs. I am now Dishwasher. My reference points were all lost. What would it mean to become a person of faith without a guitar, without an audience, with out a pulpit, without a congregation? I would guess a similar transition shock occurs for anyone who has done something they love for an extended period of time, only to find themselves unable to express that passion any longer. I hope I can change gracefully. It's always a little awkward to watch athletes come out of retirement because they can't face the fact that there is no more place for them in the spotlight. Quoting Alanis Morrisette, "the only way out is through." Healing requires asking the right question. That starting day, mine was, "What does faith act like while holding a stainless steel scrubbie?" This is what I am beginning to find out.

Why I don't feel like a good Anything

My posts this week have come from reflecting on my need to belong. I often wonder how much of who I really am (the first face) did I deny or silence in order to gain acceptance among those whose opinion seemed to matter. I tried to be bold and confident as a witness because everyone who taught on the subject seemed as overbearing as a bullmoose. I tried to display absolute cetainty in all my views because those who led me did so. I sold all my vinyl in the 80's so I could be pure (felt guilty for not burning them). I memorized a zillion verses on little cards so I could have a new one to impress people with. I did a lot of things like that over the years. I'm not down on any of those things as wrong. I'm just trying to take a look in the mirror and sort out motive. Did I do some of that stuff out of wrong motive? Absolutely, but I can't change that part of the story. What I find myself interested in is the future. What of those things will I take with me. I'd really like to take who I really am on the boat and leave as much of the poser as possible on the shore . It seems to me that our yearning for community involves to things; finding people who are LIKE me and also who are FOR me. I saw this a lot in collegiate ministry. Students enter the university looking for a place to belong. They look to clubs, organizations, athletics, etc. to find people who are LIKE them. LIKE gravitates to LIKE. Legacies usually find the sorority of their family member. Christians usually find a ministry. Trekkies usually find the Sci-Fi club. Then if the search turns up empty, sometimes the student will adopt a value of the group in order to gain entrance. Alcohol abuse is sadly a big one that lots of kids embrace. But it doesn't have to be a negative value like that. The biggest value shift comes when a person finds a group that is FOR them. The feeling of acceptance is so rare that instead of risking losing that place, the person will unconsciously change behavior. I think this is something of what happened to me in my early years of faith. I don't fault anyone but myself. I'm a big boy now. Time to put away childish things, become the man I really am. And I just might like who I'm becoming.

Why I don't make a good Evangelical

One plus about my otherwise cruddy, boring job is that I get to listen to The Herd on sports-talk radio. The host's schtick is the same each day. Every morning he opens the program with a take on some sports related issue, sheds a little light on the subject and usually creates a little controversy that becomes fodder for the listeners, callers and emailers to chew on. One day he opens with a bit on "Faith Nights" that are starting to show up at ballparks across the country. He described these Faith Nights as an evening dedicated to Christians who could come to see a game, sit in their own section in the stadium, have their group name flashed on the scoreboard, and following the game, a Christian artists would do a little concert. Now again, there was a time when that would have made perfect sense to me. How cool to get to go to a game and enjoy a show afterward. That would be fine if that's all it was. I guess the reason I don't make a good evangelical is that I don't get as easily offended by certain stuff like I used to. Maybe I should, but the talk show host was explaining more about the marketing of Faith Night. It didn't fit my categories. Faith Night supporters go on and on about how Christians don't have to worry about hearing foul language or setting next to a guy drinking beer, since the have their own section away from everyone else. This is where I don't get it. Am I off here? Have I lost all my convictions? Are my morals compromised? To me it makes about as much sense to yell at the blind guy for walking into my car. Wouldn't it make more sense for me to accomodate him than vice versa?

Why I don't make a good Baptist

Every group has them. They are the boundary markers that get set up to tell whether a person is "in" or "out." These markers could be written or unwritten, spoken or unspoken, yet either way, after a time, you know what they are, because they will make their way to the forefront of conversation, and judgements will be passed down accordingly. Really, these boundary markers are nothing more than values commonly held by that group. Values help define identity and create community. Values are a good thing, but problems arise when they start to contradict one another. My problem is that I've been told I make really good beer. Our ales even won first and second place this past Sunday at our local brewpub's homebrewer contest. It was a very exciting experience to watch people try your craft and comment glowingly on it. One person said, "You've got a gift here." (of course to some that's like saying you have a gift for making good porn films) When we won, there was the need to call people to let them know, but none of my Baptist friends were on the list. I know they would not be able to share the joy. That's what makes this mid-life shift a hard one for me to reconcile. I wish I could just set the fence posts and run the wire that says alcohol is of the devil. It would be tons easier on me, but I can't seem to view the world that way anymore. To create such tight boundaries would limit the places I could go, not just for my sake, but for other people who live in outside territory. My world was safer before, but in comparison to what I am finding, it was more black and white also. I see more color today, more beauty, more danger and more risk. Cheers.

Why I don't feel like a good Christian

I remember very early in my faith experience the amount of guilt that I encountered. Usually the guilt revolved around some aspect that I was not giving enough attention to, like not praying enough, not giving enough, not witnessing enough. And since I tend to be a maximizer, always wanting to do better, always improve on something, this guilt seemed to make sense. How else would I be a better person of faith if I didn't have something nagging me? Likely I would turn soft without it, maybe even abandon the faith altogether. I don't know if its just me, but I seemed to encounter this guilt everywhere I went. It could be the lenses I viewed life through, but something caused me to finally notice it and start to ask, "Is this right?" I remember once hearing a new pastor talk about the importance of having a daily time of bible reading and prayer. He took his audience through how he did this, and I was struck by the shame of his responses. Things like: "God, show me where I've been wrong." "God, show me what I need to do better." "God, I'm sorry I don't do a better job at ......." (fill in the blank. He had several) There was a time when that would have made perfect sense to me, but something, maybe this mid-life thing, caused me to question and reflect on that incident. I'm a dad. I love my two kids dearly. They bring me lots of joy. They both make me laugh in their unique ways. My relationship with them, though, is not centered around all the things they didn't do during the day. I've not trained them to ask me to tell them how they've constantly screwed up or let me down. I try and make sure they know that they are loved and that life does not center around them. This is how I'm trying to change my view of interacting with God; less guilty, more free. It would seem like a preferable and, therefore, relatively easy change to make, but you'd be surprised how several years of guilt thinking become hard to break.

Graduating into Mid-Life

Why am I writing things in a forum that perfect strangers can read anytime of day or night? One reason is to try and work through this mid-life transition I am in. I figure if I can put it in a form that someone who doesn't even know me can understand, then maybe it will make sense to me too. Seems like so much in my life is up for grabs, especially as it pertains to the future. I really liked college life because for 5 years I was pretty set in what I was going to do. CHEM101, PHYS304, MGT433. there was an order and progression to the events of each year. The ebb and flow was even predictable; breaks at Thanksgiving, Christmas, Spring Break, summers off. I remember not worrying about too much. Then came graduation. The future and the present were juxtaposed. What to do? Decisions to make? Where to go? Where to live? How to make money? Will I get married? All these questions came down like an avalanche. It's ironic that now at 43, I am asking the same questions (except getting married) about the future. Leaving vocational ministry feels alot like graduation. I knew my job, did it as best as I knew how, enjoyed the ebb and flow. It felt good and secure. It felt good. But then came the change. I knew I needed to "graduate" and move on. The best way to describe it is as a compulsion. I was compelled with new ideas that I could never escape. I would dream about them at night, wake up thinking these thoughts, doodle about it, journal about it. The prophet Jeremiah referred to something like it as "fire shut up in his bones." I can relate to that word picture. So with all that, I blog. I am writing for me, to try and sift through the changes that seem myriad. I need to question everything right now. I'm putting it all to the test. I want to shed the unneeded cargo as I sail into my uncharted waters. Thanks for reading and your encouragement.

Checking Box #3

In the tradition I grew up in, church people really liked keeping track of certain stuff. At the end of a church service, or revival meeting or youth camp, someone would get up at the end with a handful of cards and read the "results." The Big 3 were always the same. They were: 1. # saved. 2. # of rededications of faith. 3. # of surrenduring to the call of the ministry. I just realized that in my 43 years, I never checked box #3. I checked box #1 when I was 17, and checked box #2 countless times before that, thinking I had checked box #1, but the elusive box #3 never got a mark by my golf pencil. When I decided to go to seminary after college, it just made good sense. It was something I wanted to do. I wanted to work with university students. I didn't go kicking and screaming. Surrender never entered my mind. No need to check box #3. I could not relate to my friends who said God was calling them to surrender to the ministry. "Surrender? It sounds like you're going to spend the rest of your life doing something you hate." "Yes, isn't it great?" I just never got it. Some dude asked me if I've ever read Desiring God. I would say that the ideas in that book have shaped my thinking as much as any. That's why surrender never made sense to me, until I realized we are surrendering in order gain joy. Here's the surrender part of box #3 that I never expected to have to deal with 1. Believing you have been gifted to create something new, but your leaders don't understand it. 2. Having to choose between what you think has been God's leading or continuing in a path that your leaders understand. 3. Facing the rejection of your leaders, despite your plea for their blessing. 4. Being told, "We don't know what to do with you." 5. Cutting yourself off from the community you loved and served in order to try and do the right thing. 6. Wondering if anyone else believes in what you're doing. 7. Feeling desperately alone. Who knew checking box # 3 would be so complicated?

Ministry and the "Second Face"

Here's something I encountered along the way in my "ministry as profession" career. Somewhere I realized that I had developed a "second face" as a result of my position. This second face was the professional side of ministry. To be professional is to not let personal issues prevent one from carrying out the duties of the office. (This was Bill Clinton's defense). I wore the second face up front often, but when I would try and revert to the original face, I found some people wanted to relate to the other. Now the second face doesn't have to mean one lives a drastic double life, where a sinister darkenss is being masked from everyone. It can be very subtle, which is what I felt mine was. Bottom line, it felt like I had to hide something out of fear of getting caught and losing my job. One "second face" issue was alcohol. I really enjoy beer and wine and I've even taking to brewing my own, simply because I love the process of creating something beautiful from a raw product. Cooperating with the natural process of fermentation (which I assume God created), I am fascinated at turning grapes or grain into a completely different result. This is my first face. But the tradition that I grew and worked in had a completely different view, so I was not free to explore this unless I was to hide it. This meant that I would have a beer with dinner only when I knew I wouldn't get caught, like when I was out of state or country. I started feeling like a phony. Now I understand the exhortation to not let freedom be a stumbling block for someone weaker, and fully try and apply that, but what I did not like was this "second face" that I felt I had no choice but to wear. I hope this does not sound like defense of alcohol, because the "second face" could be a requirement of anything that does not fit into the norms or mores of a community of faith. Jesus calls us to be free, not to have to hide out of fear. That freedom needs to have a positive direction to it. (I am free, therefore I........) Often, freedom is followed by a condition (I am free, but....). It is this condition that usually demands a "second face."

Confessions of a Church Addict

In some ways I feel like an addict. I like to define addiction as this: Exchanging control for the promise of reward. I feel like I did that with a situation called church. I think I gave it control over me in exchange for a reward, which came in the form of place, recognition, and a sense of power. I think this is why I like reading about gambling. [see luckiestone] Gambling is not my addiction, but because I know myself well enough, I know that it could be. I'm in the process of detoxing from my addiction to church. [Please note: this is NOT an attack against what we call church] I looked to it to provide me something it was never capable of giving. Just like the gambler looking to the dice to deliver, I wanted something back, but came up seven-out. I loved being in front of people, playing music, hearing my songs sung, getting feedback from folks about my teaching or leadership, but it became my reward. I had no other place to stand. I became a nobody. This is a hard one for people to get. It took my wife a couple of years to figure out why attending church on Sunday mornings would send me into a tailspin for the rest of the day. The addict needed his fix, and it was nowhere to be found. Many of my friends are well-meaning, trying to encourage me by saying that it was not in vain, that the LORD uses us in spite our motives, but it still doesn't change the fact that I gave something away to get something illegitimate, that I feel like a poser, like an addict.

Seven Steps to Being an Effective Ex-Minister

I'm not sure if I'm normal in my experience of being an ex-minister, since there are no books out there outlining 7 steps to becoming a successful ex-minister. I can only hope that I am on the right path, as I feel like I am sailing uncharted waters. Others have likely passed this way, but I can't seem to find their travel logs. So I guess this is my attempt to leave a message in a bottle for those who come behind. When you're a minister, you have to take a position of authority, especially if you teach or preach on a regular basis. I was not in a weekly teaching role, like many of my old collegues. I spoke maybe on the average once per month. The pressure of coming up with something to say can be pretty high. (I still can't see how people do it week in and week out.) I don't know about others, but for me there came the temptation to say things that were sound and orthodox, yet had never passed the test of it in my own life. Prayer being one such subject. If someone asked me today to give a talk on prayer, it might go something like this: "I have no idea how it works, or even if it works, but I find myself talking to God alot." Compare that to all the countless things I've taught about prayer over the years and there in lies my dilemma. What have I offered people? What have I led people to believe about prayer that I'm not even sure about? This may sound like a dying man's confession and maybe it is, but I have to say that I like the freedom of being at this place of honesty. I've not given up on prayer. I'm just trying to sift through all the baggage that has come with it. I might want to go back to being a minister if I could pray these kinds of prayer. "God, help." "God, I don't get it." "God, where else am I going to go?" I found a new blog I like called MissionsMisunderstood. The thing I like about it, in addition to the content, is that the brother is annonymous. Sounds like its really disrupting some of his readers. The reason I appreciate the anonymity is that it reminds me of God right now. I really believe He's there, speaking, working, and acting for my good, but I have not idea who He is. I thought I knew, but that knowledge has been blown out of the water. So in the mean time, I simply try and listen and receive. Can't wait to see what comes next.

One Year Later

It was a year ago we buried my dad under a shade tree in the Oglesby cemetary outside Bartlesville, OK. Sometimes I wonder where the time has gone, other times it feels like yesterday. Either way, there has been a lot of water pass under the bridge. A year ago, life was very dark. Having left my career, being unemployed, the uncertainty of the future, combined with my wife being unemployed and my father dying, the weight on my shoulders was pretty heavy. Granted, things could have been worse, but your circumstances are your reality and you have to live with them. Despair was the rule of the day. Hope seemed a long way off, kind of like the BN train that passes through the north side of town. Once in a while you can hear the horn blowing as it approaches an intersection. I knew hope had to exist, but it wasn't very close or obvious. But today, I see a little different picture. Death always gives way to life. Seeds die, but soon germinate. Plant material decays, but that decompostition allows other living plants to flourish. The body dies, but its legacy of story is passed on to the next generation. I can't tell you how many times I have caught myself saying, "like my dad would say..." or "my dad taught me this..." True, he is gone and will never see the things I will accomplish because of his influence on me. I somehow think what he saw while he was alive was enough for him, though its not enough for me. I have in my possession a letter of intent from a property owner. We are another big step toward Bread&Cup. Today I take it to the bank to see if they will loan me the money we need. Somehow the events of this past year have prepared me for today. I am more hopeful, more at ease, more willing to stare despair in the face and say, "you will not win."

Searching for Power

One thing that was always hard for me to reconcile during my time as a paid minister was the difference between the church and any other organization. Answers given to me were in the line of, "eternal rewards," or, "doing God's work." On the one hand, I understood this, but on the other I often found it hard to make a distinction. I raised funds for several years, but so has the United Way. I gave motivational messages, and so do the Toastmasters. I helped lead small groups, so has AA. A lot of the fundamental activities of the church look like any other organization. So what sets it apart? When we reach a fundraising goal, was it God that invested on our behalf, or did we just apply good technique? As a preacher, how do I know that the Spirit moved my audience rather than my delivery? Were my small groups effective because God showed up or was it just because Bill W came up with a good program? Bottom line, I yearn to know and see power, real supernatural power that leads one to conclude that there is no other explanation other than that God intervened. A buddy of mine put it this way, that he wants something greater than winning the lottery. Winning the lottery would be cool, but its still a game of chance. I want more than chance. Maybe I'm wrong, but I want the satisfaction of seeing the God of the Universe at work on my behalf This longing has led me to question just about everything and try and find the Source of Power. Even with prayer, I would say I am more confused about how it works, but find myself talking with God more than ever. Maybe because I have more time to do so. In no way have I given up. I actually like the place I find myself. God seems to have gotten bigger, more mysterious, less explanable. I'm more fascinated by simple things. Faith is more important now, because I can't see very well. We walk by faith, not by sight.

It's a small world, after all.

As a paid minister, I think I developed a skewed view of the world. This was affirmed about a year ago when I realized that my biggest dream for my music was for it to be recognized in the church. Why didn't I hope that my music might reach beyond that realm? I guess my world was too small, and it has taken this downward path to enlarge it. When my wife and I were raising our children as infants, it didn't take long to realize that their world was very small. It encompassed three things: 1. A full tummy. 2. A dry diaper. 3. Sleep. If any one of those things were out of whack, the kid would fuss and wail. So anytime one of them would be cranky, we would check those three aspects of his or her world. Most times attention given to one or all of those components brought success. The advantage of a small world like this is that it made problem solving fairly easy. The downside meant that our kids would get easily upset if their world was not in order. The size of our world is directly correspondent to how well we respond to adversity. We just paid our mechanic over $1000 for maintenance on our van. Routine, basic stuff like tires, brakes and 02 sensors add up quickly. I am so tempted to get upset by this expense as it comes at a tight financial season for us. But what pulls me out of it is to acknowledge the bigger world we live in. Bills to be paid are nothing compared to broader concerns of loving others well and pursuing peacefulness and beauty. Bills still have to be taken care of, but they don't need to be the center of my world. Neither does my place in the church have to be my central focus, because what happens when I can't find a place in it, or at least in the church as we know it?

On Popularity and Posing

The transition from being a paid minister to a non-paid one has brought a lot of questions about what I used to be. Anytime money is involved in an equation, motives get blurry. Add recognition or popularity to the mix, it gets even more cloudy. My niche was music, worship music to be exact. Around 1991, I started writing songs that I would use in my worship leadership. The response inititally was pretty good. The feedback I got seemed to indicate that the style in which I wrote connected with people. This led to about a 10yr run of writing, leading and recording original songs. It was a lot of fun, a definite highlight. Something happened slowly, and I am still not entirely sure what it was, but my music was not receivied in the same way. The one thing I could point to was that the music I was writing was going in a different direction than what was popular, and the popular songs were what people preferred to sing. Honestly, this was a bit threatening, and it led me to ask the question, "Why?" As I said above, popularity can be like a fly in the ointment. I was losing my place and wasn't sure what to do. I started questioning my effectiveness, even my faith and favor with God. I guess I had bought into the idea that popularity and God's blessing go hand in hand. It never dawned on me that my music could be sung in every church and it not be an indication of anything of God. It could have meant I just got lucky. It's been over 2 years since I last led any kind of worship gathering. I'm not sure if I could ever do it again. I think I would feel too conflicted within. Now that I am out of that scene, I'm too overwhelmed with motive. In my obscurity, there is something safer. I don't have to worry about being a poser.

I used to be a minister

I used to be a minister. Well, let me change that. I used to get paid to do the job of a minister. It was my job to study the bible, to teach it, to counsel people, to preach, to lead worship. All the basic activities you would associate with church work, I did. And I got my salary from that function. That's what I mean by, "used to be a minister." Being a minister has its advantages. I miss some of those. I miss the ebb and flow of the seasonal aspect of the work. I miss the times of reflection and study. The comeraderie among co-workers is not there. These are true losses. One thing I don't miss now is the reaction I got from people when they asked my what I did for a living. If you want to shut down a conversation, tell someone you're a minister. 9 times out of 10 it got silent really quick after the announcement. Now I can just say I drive a truck. At least the conversation doesn't close. What is more fun is to tell people I used to be a minister. That seems safer for some reason. I get responses like: "How come you're not anymore?" "Why did you quit?" "Did you lose your faith?" Saying "I used to be a minister" leads to more interesting conversation. I should have tried that years ago. It could have been my little secret when I would get on a plane. Evangelical pastors (except me) seem to thrive on airplanes because all their best stories are about people they witnessed to on the plane. If I had a dollar for every speaker who started their talk with, "On the plane here, I was talking with the person next to me, and.....blah, blah, blah." I really thought that that if I flew more, maybe I would help me tell better stories. Had I known years ago that people seem to be a little more open and honest with an "ex-minister...." Oh, well. Live and learn.

Quote of the Week

As a teenager, I learned this when I saw an item on television about a London Pub in which the walls were lined with friezes showing merry monks. The pub was scheduled to be demolished to make way for road widening. In the TV programme, a slightly crazy-looking english poet was arguing that the pub was a temple to the pleasures of drinking and should be saved. It was. The poet's name was Betjeman. I thought at the time we needed more Betjemen. We don't call them that; we know them as conservationists. A pity. I prefer Betjemen. Until now, there has been no name for people who go a stage beyond conservation, and somehow bring back pleasures that have been lost. from Radial Brewing, by Randy Mosher, forward by Michael Jackson

Why we like going to Vegas

ChristianMan has handed many of us the idea that our heart is wicked and that left to ourselves we will always hit that slippery slope to destruction. An Old Testament passage is always used to reinforce this, all the while overlooking what the New Testament says about rebirth, renewal and restoration. I am of the mind that we have been duped, misled to think that we are just one step away from oblivion. And where does that leave us if ChristianMan believe he is to live in fear of failure? My road has led me to consider all the actions that have been labeled sinful and ask the simple question, "Why?" If the Bible teaches us that Satan is only a deceiver, not a creator, it would seem to make sense that the core of all sin is something good that has gone wrong. I think most Christ-followers would affirm that sex is good at its core, but that it has been the target of deception due to its importance to the human heart. I must admit that one activity I am drawn toward that I could probably go overboard on is gambling. There is something about the energy of standing around a craps table that's really on. Again, I ask, "Why?" Why do we love it so much. ChristianMan has convinced me that it is because I love the darkness and the flesh and should rather love being in church on Sundays alot more. But in keeping with the idea that the Enemy is only a deceiver, is there anything about gambling that good? If we are made in His image, what about gambling is like God? Philip Yancey shed some light on this for me. He wrote a book called "Disappointment with God" that I recently read. He addresses the person who is struggling with God at some level. When he gets to the part of Job, he describes the scenario in language that I've never heard before. He calls the interaction with Satan, "The Great Wager." God put something on the line. He laid down a bet with Satan, took a huge risk on the man Job and told Satan, "You've got yourself a bet!" God believed in man enough to stake something on it, to let Job be involved in the action. Why would He do this? A closing thought: Could it be that God is a risk taker. Any free choice is a gamble, and God believed in His glory enough to put it at stake, knowing that Satan would accuse Him and knowing that the race of Men would turn from Him. The difference in His gamble and ours is the payout. We settle for a mere monetary one. His is eternal.

The Annual Phone Call

My birthday was yesterday. Every year for the past 10 or so, I always get a phone call. (Yes, I get one from my mom, too, but this one is a little different.) It's a call that reaffirms my hope in the Gospel. It's from a guy who used to be in the student group I helped lead. To know why the call is so special, I'll have to give a bit of background on Dick. Dick has struggled along his life's path for quite a few years. When I met him at the University 11 years ago, I had no idea that he had a mental illness. I'm not sure anyone did. But to make a long story short, Dick found himself in trouble, the kind that gets you thrown in jail. Mental illness is severely misunderstood. There is a different consideration for people who's heart or kidneys don't function properly than for someone who's brain doesn't do what it was designed to do. We tell the person with a heart condition to go to the doctor, but we for years have told the person with mental illness to "snap out of it," or "stop being lazy," or "quit being weird." But every year when Dick calls on my birthday, I am encouraged and amazed. I'm amazed that this man who has a mental illness also has a mind for remembering details, like baseball stats, history dates, and birthdays. I'm encouraged by the fact that God does not give up on us. Yesterday, there was hope in his voice, even choking up at one point, grateful for the love God has poured out on him despite his brokenness. It reminds me that His love knows no end. It tells me that His love is what its really all about, not about how good or moral we try to become. Goodness and Morality can become an idol, becoming the focus of our lives rather than living in awe of the Love poured out for us every single day. Thanks, Dick, for the phone call. And thanks for your example to me of what its really all about.

My decision to quit football

It's been at least two years (maybe more) since I have separated myself from the church as we know it in order to pursue the answers to my questions about life and faith. I don't know that I recommend this path to everyone, but for me it has been the direction I felt compelled to take. I don't know why I am this way, but the first time I saw this kind of decision was way back in 9th grade. Growing up in a small town, there aren't a whole lot of opportunities for self-expression. In my school you were either a jock or a geek, not much gray area in between. So the choice was between sports or nothing. If you didn't play sports, you were seen as other, less than. I moved to a different school in 7th grade, due to my old school closing. Upon arrival, I figured out quickly the caste system, so I signed up for football. It didn't take long to realize what a difficult environment it would be. It wasn't hard because of the physical demand; it just wasn't an encouraging place. Coaches were psychologically cruel, as well as other players. I hated it from day one, but didn't feel I had the courage or choice to do anything else. So I stuck it out for 3 long years. Then came time to graduate Jr. High and move on to high school. In the spring semester of 9th grade, when all the prospective players were to try out for the football team, I declined. I wasn't on the bus for the tryout. You would have thought I had done something attrocious. "What the hell are you doing?" was among some of the nicer questions. The Jr. High principal even called me into his office to inquire of why I would not go out for football. To this day I am not sure why he was concerned. I was hardly a key piece of the puzzle. I never played more than a few downs per game, and those usually in the 4th quarter when the game was so far out of reach and we had no chance of winning. The thing I remember about sitting in his office was my resolve at age 15. "Yes, sir, I am not going out for football." "Yes, sir, I am sure about my decision." "No, sir, I don't think I will regret it." "May I go now?" Dan Allendar talks about our life will reflect certain themes as it is played out, and how these themes tell us something about ourselves. I'm not sure this all means, but the decision to leave the church as we know it feels alot like being 15 sitting in the principal's office. I am convinced of my choice, not out of spite or bitterness, but out of being true to my heart.

Quote of the Week

"No institution will go through fundamental change unless it believes it is in deep trouble and needs to do something different to survive." Lou Gerstner

The Gospel in a Flat World

When you think about it, the Gospel is very resilient. It has survived a Roman World, a Greek World, a Dark Age, a Renaissance World, an Enlightened World, an Industrial World, a Technological World, and an Informational World. And each of those time periods influenced how the Story was told. It's why early Christians would have never used a cross as jewelry, but we do today. It's why the fish symbol was one of survival and not a bumper sticker. It's why cathedrals were built then and today we can just get by with meeting in a school or warehouse. It's why the Story was told in elaborate paintings on ceilings and walls versus a few pages in a mustard-colored booklet. The Gospel was meant to be understood. Which brings the question: How will it be told in a Flat World? Teachers of revival movements always point to certain external characteristics of past spiritual awakenings. Things like empty bars and saloons, full church buildings and non-stop prayer meetings, a reduction of crime and mass public repentance. But most of these revival meetings like the 1st and 2nd Great Awakenings happened in a pre-technological, pre-informational, modern era. The world has changed significantly since the last Great Awakening, and I believe the Awakening of the future will look just as different.

The Church is Flat - Pt 2

An expected resistance to the idea of a Flat Church is that it is just like so much else in the church culture, it is getting in bed with the business world and modeling itself after secular marketing practices. This is much of what the "church growth movement" turned out to be; business principles wrongly applied to the church, in turn making her look more like a business than the organic entity She is. The church is the Bride, a relational being, not a bottom-line financial organization. Here is where I see this flattening shift as different than the church growth movement. The Flattening of the World is not just a business idea, but a radical paradigm shift. Its not tweaking the old model. It is leading to a whole new way of thinking. It is cultural, not simply pragmatic, and we as leaders need to brace ourselves for the opportunities into which we will collide. The challenge of the gospel through the ages has been to figure out how to be understood by its culture. The message does not change, but its listeners do. This is why Jesus said to not cast your pearls before swine. I don't believe he was teaching a lesson on stewardship, but one of communication. Pigs can't eat pearls. They want corn or other grain. The farmer gives them something they can eat, or else the pig will grow hungry, and become beligerent. As the world changes, if we continue to cast pearls (ideas, methods that are precious to us) before a hungry herd, no wonder it will turn against us. It is imperative that we understand these time, and shape the course of the future.

The Great Sorting Out

A great quote from Friedman: "when the world starts to move from a primarily vertical (command and control) value-creation model to an increasingly horizontal (connect and collaborate) creation model, it doesn't affect just how business gets done. It affects everything--how communities and companies define themselves, where companies and communities stop and start, how individuals balance their different identities as consumers, employees, shareholders, and citizens, and what role government has to play. All of this is going to have to be sorted out anew." (The World is Flat, pg 210)

The Church is Flat (or at least it should be)

The first misunderstanding of the Flat Church is that is about technology. Discussions or blogs I have come across from those that are trying to tap into the "flattening of the world" wave seem to be centered around how to better use technology in the church. Such as: "Let's set up a web-based new member connection system...." "We can interconnect all our satellite campuses via video on Sunday morning..." "This technology can enable us to have the sermon broadcast to international congregations..." All of these are missing the point. And the point is not the use of technlogy; its all about getting people involved in the work of service, in their gifting, in their passion, prompted by the Spirit. The first step in understanding the flattening of the church is to get this. To gather all our people under one roof, or get them listening to the same sermon preached by the same guy is not inspiring. There was a time when I thought that way, so I can understand it to some degree. But getting all our people empowered and active is much more thrilling to me now. When I was a vocational minstry person, I had the idea in mind that the role of leadership is to empower the laity, but that's really much harder done that said. It was always rewarding for me to find a new musician who could sing or play in the praise band, but it was still church work, within the walls of the church as we know it. And while this worked for students who had musical talents, I finally realized that I needed to expand the scope of empowerment to those who could serve in ways outside the realm of church. And if I was to do so, I would have take a leave from the form of church that I knew and see if I could actually make it happen. Ultimately, the challenge was directed at myself; "Could I empower myself to move into my community with my gifting and be a blessing with it?" This is the unanswered question. You can follow this blog to see if the question will be answered, "Yes."

The World is Flat - Pt 3

So why does this "flattening of the world" stuff excite me? Is it because I love technology and progress or change and such? Is it because globalism stands to make me lots of money? Maybe it's a fascination with the Internet and its potential? Wrong on all three. I guess I need to explain a few things first before any of my thoughts on the Flattening of the World make sense. I will start with my blog header. I am a pastor at heart. I started to realize in college that one of the things that came naturally to me was to draw people around me and watch after their well-being. I was always a letter-writer then, now a phone-caller. Being connected to people and letting them know they are thought of and cared for helped me to see that a future in vocational ministry was a worthy direction. So off I went. I entered into what some would call a para-church ministry (which is a completely different blog direction, but I won't go there.) Serving students on a university campus, while attempting to attend and serve with a local congregation. Soon into this, I started to realize something, that it was difficult for me to find a place to serve in this gifting in the local church as we know it. There were plenty of ways to volunteer my time, like parking cars or helping in the toddlers class, but the shepherding and leading of people seemed be limited to those who were paid staff. I was even told one time by a pastor that I should probably think about going someplace else, since there were not enough opportunities in this particular church. That statement stung, but it started me asking, "What's wrong with this picture, and am I to do something about it?" What I think is wrong with the picture is the role of leadership in the church. It talks a good game about empowering the laity, identifying spiritual gifts and unleashing them, but many times the unleashing is simply to do more church work. It may say it is asking for leaders, but it is really asking for volunteers. Leaders lead. Volunteers just fit in where needed. And since volunteers were well represented, as a leader then, I knew I had to be a part of a solution, and to do so, I had to leave the current form of church as we know it and start fresh. My blog header states an idea of identifying the pastors and giving the church back to them. In the process I have come to realize that pastor is a gift, not just an office, and that we will overlook a multitude of gifted shepherds because the current form of the church as we know it does not make room for them. My struggle to find a place had more to do with the heirarchy of church organization than anything. The advising pastor was right; there was little room for me, because the form didn't allow it. This brings me to the point of why the "flattening of the world" is of such interest to me. I believe the culture is shifting toward a paradigm that will allow more and more pastors/leaders to get involved in exercising their gifting. The two words from a previous post--habits and participation-- say volumes. As the culture makes room for more and more people to participate in the global marketplace, they will grow increasingly suspicious of steep heirarchical structures. They will ask, "What's the use?" As it becomes more intolerable in the marketplace, it will most certainly be intolerable in the church.

The World is Flat - Pt 2

Changes are happening around us at an incredible speed. I think of the cell phone I have in my pocket. I am ashamed to admit this, but I can remember telling people before I got one, that I feared they might be the next CD radio; Fun for a few, but will fade over time. Did I ever have that wrong. Fast forward to today, I use that thing everyday. If I had to choose, I would forget my wallet at home as opposed to my cell phone. The reason cell phones and other such devices are so important to us is that they are forms of personal power. Without your phone, you feel disconnected. You are unable to access your means of communicating with others. This is the effect of the flattening of the world. You and I have access to so much communcating power, it is now taken for granted. I heard a commercial recently for a long-distance company boasting about all calls to Europe being free. I pondered the relevance of that offer. A few years ago, I'm not thinking that offer is that great for me, because who wants to call Europe!? Sure, I might know someone or have a family member there, but the cost would have been so high, I couldn't afford it any way. Now, its not that big of a deal. The world is flattening right before our eyes.