frank viola on organic church

If you want to hear a provocative take on a Trinitarian expression of church, carve out 30 minutes and click here to listen to Frank Viola bring it in his always passionate way.

simple fix for our economy

Sometimes we make things too complicated. Last Sunday the St. Petersburg Times asked readers for ideas on "How Would You Fix the Economy?" I think this guy nailed it:

Dear Mr. President,

Please find below my suggestion for fixing America's economy. Instead of giving billions of dollars to companies that will squander the money on lavish parties and unearned bonuses, use the following plan. You can call it the Patriotic Retirement Plan:

There are about 40 million people over 50 in the work force. Pay them $1 million apiece severance for early retirement with the following stipulations:

1) They MUST retire. Forty million job openings - Unemployment fixed.
2) They MUST buy a new American CAR. Forty million cars ordered - Auto Industry fixed.
3) They MUST either buy a house or pay off their mortgage - Housing Crisis fixed.

It can't get any easier than that! If more money is needed, have all members of Congress and their constituents actually pay their taxes.

To the writer's simple suggestions I would add a 4th requirement:

4) They MUST give $100,000 to the charity of their choice - Hearts fixed.

utopia

For most generations utopia was a concept so far beyond their reach it wasn't worth a second thought. Not today. Today we're going for it. Almost every week I sit down with someone who is looking for the perfect job, the perfect role, the perfect community, the perfect church, the perfect mission, the perfect fit. Utopia--that ideal, perfect place--seems to be well within our reach and worth looking for no matter how long it takes.

Except it isn't. Utopia is actually the Greek word for no place, and it turns out that no place seems to be where most people end up during that long look for the perfect place.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not an advocate for settling. I believe we should take time to imagine the kind of place we really want to live in and serve out of and reach for it. It's just that that place usually needs to created through lots of grit and perseverance rather than simply found.

you're dead to me

Romans 6 is tough stuff. This morning I was trying to wrap my mind around Paul's words, "We have died to sin" (6:2) and "Consider yourselves dead to sin" (6:11). Those are tough teachings to grasp because quite honestly I don't feel like I've died to sin. In my experience sin feels very much alive and sneaking around in my life.

It's true that Paul doesn't say "sin is dead." It's clearly not. What he does say is that those who follow Jesus are "dead to sin." But what does that mean in real life when sin is still lurking around? As I was thinking about that this morning the infamous line attributed to The Godfather II, "You're dead to me", came to mind. When Michael Corleone told Fredo, "You're nothing to me now; you're not a brother, you're not a friend; I don't want to know you or what you do", he was telling his brother that he was dead to him. Fredo hadn't died (not yet anyway), but he was certainly dead to Michael. He had no place in his home. He didn't want to see him or hear his voice. He had no role in his or his family's life any longer. Fredo was dead to him.

I think that's a pretty good picture of what Paul is saying our relationship to sin should look like. We should treat it as if it is dead to us. It has no place in our homes or in our hearts. We don't want to look at it or know it or hear it or even know what it does. It has no role in our lives.

Sin is dead to us.

the church in 25 years

Here's one guy's take on what the church will look like in 25 years. Personally, I think it will look like a lot of different things, but I do think C. Wess Daniels does a nice job of articulating the direction she is heading. (The words in bold are ones that particularly intrigue me):

My (Wess Daniels) sense about the future is that the church, whatever is left of it in 25 years, will be built around a kind of nebulous, decentralized participation in God’s mission. I imagine there will be a lot less full-time CEO pastors and more people who see themselves as co-cultivators of kingdom imaginations. People who band together in a world where there is little money, time or space for full-time ministry to embody this call.

At the heart of what we might call “mission communities” won’t be buildings, and budgets but high amounts of inter-connectivity, utilizing and disseminating the church’s wisdom and critique through whatever devices and networks are available. Being tied-down to physical space will be seen less as an asset and more as a disadvantage. I think these people will use whatever space is available to them, and while being committed to particular (local) areas, they won’t be fixed to one location.

Building on this sense of participating within these mobile ecclesial groups will be a strong emphasis on communal creativity, rather than the individualistic focus of the do-it-YOURSELF, they will be focused on a do-it-OURSELVES mentality. In 25 years the church will not count on social services, setup within Christendom, to do its work for it any longer. The church will have to embody God’s mission, creativity, justice, non-violence and hospitality as a community of people committed to being disciples of Jesus.

Because these Christians will be less separated from the world it will be important to build communities and practices of resistance: people who read Scripture together to be reminded and shaped as people of “The Way” while learning how to survive in empire, who share their food, their belongings, and who reject the speed and consumption of hyper-capitalism. They will be non-conformist while living within and seeking to transform the world.

Finally, while this gathered diasporic people will focus on their particular local concerns they will also join with other “mission communities” for collective fronts on important and timely issues of their days. They will disband and regroup as needs arise. Thus even denominations will work more like social networks, cultivating disciples, artists, theologians, leaders and imaginations for survival in a world in need of the Gospel.

I will rise

posted by Laurie...

I will rise everyday
And I will give my life away.
My better years are still to come,
Remember this when my life's done
That I will rise...
- Kate White from her Turning Pages CD)

On Monday night in a hundred year old Victorian house that's been turned into a recovery home in our neighborhood, my dear friend Kate performed a concert for 43 women gathered around on the chairs and floor. Kate sang, played her violin and tenderly shared her story. Over the course of the next couple of hours she connected with these women that she'd never met before in an incredibly deep way. My teammates Britany and Sophia and I were able to be there too and meet these women who were warm and receptive.

Kate sang and talked about her family, her own marriage and her children, things that all these women could relate to. At one point, she asked all the women to say out loud altogether the names of their children. It was so touching and heart-wrenching to hear moms call out from all over the room the names of their missed children. Kate really wanted to pray a blessing over their children so she asked for permission to pray for all of them. There was probably not a dry eye in the room.

Many pieces of Kate's life story intersected with theirs and although she didn't pretend to understand everything they've gone through, they really seemed to relate to her. We had been told we couldn't “proselytize” nor had we intended to, but as Kate shared her journey she sensed that many of the women desired to know God. So she shared how she had wrestled with trusting God and with the questions and pain she had experienced, but also how she had come to trust Him and give her life to Him.

After the concert, the women came up and hugged us and thanked us for coming. Some of them shared a little of their stories with us…. painful and sad stories. One woman asked Kate how she could know God too and if she needed a priest to be able to do that. So Kate told her she would pray with her and show her how. Some others next to her said they also wanted to know God and before we knew it, almost every woman in the house formed a circle, holding hands. I'll never forget that moment when Kate led them in prayer to receive Jesus as their Savior. They repeated after her, loud and clear "Lord Jesus! I've messed up! Come into my life..." Only God knows which women actually gave their lives to Jesus that night. Some of the women were already followers of Jesus and it was encouraging to see how they came up and began helping the others.

This week we’re going to take a copy of each of Kate's CD's to each of the women and we're listening to see how else God wants us to be involved with these dear women in our neighborhood. We may be able to walk with them, do crafts with them, or just hang out with them. They're in a very structured program so we're not sure how much we'll be allowed to be involved. When you think of it, please pray for these women, for those who gave their lives to God, to grow in Him, as they do the hard work of recovery from addiction. And as they miss their children and families.

full circle

Back in the early eighties I was a commercial banker up in LA. I loaned money to middle market companies to help them grow their companies and accumulate wealth. I was pretty good at it too. But that was a long time ago.

A few weeks ago I made another loan. It was just a little $25 personal loan brokered by Kiva to a grocery shop owner in Indonesia to help her stock her shelves. It was a simple way to make a big difference in someone's life, and something I'd highly encourage everyone to consider doing (www.kiva.com).

Today I made another loan that required me to tap into the skills I had learned back in my banking days. This time, as an occasional volunteer with the micro-enterprises department of the International Rescue Committee, (the world's largest organization assisting refugees), I approved a $15,000 loan to an Afghan refugee to help him buy a Lincoln Town Car which he'll use to shuttle executives to and from the San Diego airport. It was a blast helping this guy get what he needs to carve out a better life for his family here in the US, and it actually required almost as much analysis as those $5 million loans I made back in LA.

I used to give money to the guys who rode in the back seats of those Lincoln Town Cars. Today I gave money to the guy driving the car. Sometimes life takes you full circle and you get to use the things you learned at one time in your life and apply them in a whole new way in an unexpected setting. And that feels good.

it's not really all about me

I belong to an outfit (CRM/NieuCommunities) that develops people. We invite skeptics to consider; we encourage seekers to follow; and we coach followers to lead. We are called to help mentor people to be who they were created to be and to do what they were divinely designed to do. But there is an inherent risk in that pursuit. We can subtly and inadvertently begin to nurture a culture which unconsciously begins to act as if "it's all about me." We can even risk becoming a people who functionally behave as if our own well-being and personal development is paramount and the mission we have been invited into is collateral.

I often ask people if the things they are doing are "life-giving." The premise is that you've got to have a life to help give a life. The image that comes to mind is the flight attendant dutifully instructing parents that in case of emergency to put on their own oxygen masks first and then to put them on their children. Makes sense. You've got to be breathing to help anybody else get air.

Beyond just the pragmatics of prioritizing life-giving actions is a solid biblical foundation. Jesus himself said, "I came that you might have life and have it to the fullest." Scriptures seem to teach us that God wants us to be full of life. But scriptures also teach us that we will find life in ways we may not have counted on or hoped for. We find it in service. In simplicity. In sacrifice. In other-centeredness. Even in death. Jesus summed up this counter-cultural pathway to life when he said, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Somehow in Jesus' economy life is found by giving it away. We take in food, drink, love, and counsel in the expectation of immediately sharing it with others. We live as we live on mission.

And so as we develop people we are right to instruct them to put on their oxygen masks first. But to that counsel we need to add to do it expeditiously and with your eyes fixed on those gasping for air because this actually is an emergency.

only a true golfer will understand

Never try to keep more than 300 separate thoughts in your mind during your swing.

When your shot has to carry over a water hazard, you can either hit one more club or two more balls.

If you're afraid a full shot might reach the green while the foursome ahead of you is still putting out, you have two options: you can immediately shank a lay-up or you can wait until the green is clear and top a ball halfway there.

No matter how bad you are playing, it is always possible to play worse.

The inevitable result of any golf lesson is the instant elimination of the one critical unconscious motion that allowed you to compensate for all of your many other errors.

It is surprisingly easy to hole a fifty foot putt ... For a 10 on that hole.

Counting on your opponent to inform you when he breaks a rule is like expecting him to make fun of his own haircut.

It's not a gimme if you're still away.

The shortest distance between any two points on a golf course is a
straight line that passes directly through the center of a very large tree.

You can hit a two acre fairway 10% of the time and a two inch branch 90% of the time.

If you really want to get better at golf, go back and take it up at a much earlier age.

Since bad shots come in groups of three, a fourth bad shot is actually the beginning of the next group of three.

Every time a golfer makes a birdie, he must subsequently make two triple bogeys to restore the fundamental equilibrium of the universe.

If you want to hit a 7 iron as far as Tiger Woods does, simply try to lay up just short of a water hazard.

Hazards attract; fairways repel.

A ball you can see in the rough from 50 yards away is not yours.

If there is a ball on the fringe and a ball in the bunker, your ball is in the bunker. If both balls are in the bunker, yours is in the footprint.

If your opponent has trouble remembering whether he shot a six or a seven, he probably shot an eight (or worse).

It's easier to get up at 6:00 AM to play golf than at 10:00 to mow the yard.

A good drive on the 18th hole has stopped many a golfer from giving up the game.

love your enemies

Here's an awesome video story of a Palestinian guy who just ended up in our backyard and in a different kingdom.

principles for helpers

A friend passed on this very helpful article by Bob Lupton to me. I thought I'd share it with my friends who want to really help the poor:

Principles for Helpers
Hippocrates (460 – 377 B.C.), the father of modern medicine, recognized the power of the healing profession to effect great good as well as its potential to do much harm. The oath that he instituted, a pledge taken by doctors to this day, established ethical standards for physician conduct which included: patient confidentiality, referral for specialized treatment, sharing of medical knowledge, and valuing prevention above cure. The Hippocratic Oath requires that physicians be personal and caring, put the interests of patients first in medical decisions, strive always to preserve life and never play God by taking life. And above all, do no harm.

For centuries the Hippocratic Oath has served well the medical profession and countless millions of patients. It has guided physicians toward astounding medical breakthroughs as well as constrained them from endangering patient welfare by risking questionable treatments. Perhaps a similar type of code would be useful to those who wish to serve the poor. We know that helping can certainly be for better or worse. Even as a misdiagnosed ailment will lead to improper (even harmful) treatment, so wrongly given assistance may well prolong or even worsen the plight of the needy. Good intentions and kindhearted spirits, while commendable, are insufficient guarantees of positive outcomes. Unexamined service that risks leaving the served worse off than if they had been left alone is irresponsible if not unethical. Guiding principles are needed.

The following is an attempt to articulate a few such fundamentals to guide would-be helpers toward effective care-giving. These guidelines are drawn from the collective wisdom and experience of veteran servants who have spent good portions of their lives living and serving among the less-fortunate in a variety of cultures. The list is hardly exhaustive, and each item requires far more unpacking than this writing permits. Just as the Hippocratic Oath has for centuries provoked vigorous and sometimes heated debate among physicians and has required repeated modification to remain contemporary, even so should these “Principles for Helpers” stimulate healthy discussion and adaptation appropriate for the particular setting.

1. Is the need crisis or chronic? — Triage may be the appropriate intervention in an emergency situation but it is hardly the strategy for a continuing need. The victims of a devastating tsunami need immediate medical, shelter, essential supplies and hoards of volunteers. Over time, however, survivors need expert consultation, a practical plan and a combination of grants and loans to help them rebuild their destroyed community. A similar distinction should be applied to those who utilize our food pantries and clothes closets as well as to those we serve on our mission trips. If their situation is a matter of life or death, then immediate action must be taken to “stop the bleeding”; otherwise a plan for helping them rebuilding their lives is more appropriate. Just as a physician, before prescribing treatment, performs a diagnostic “physical” to determine the severity of an ailment, so must helpers take the time to discriminate between imminent life-threatening situations and chronic poverty needs. (Note: what may seem at first like a crisis to helpers may in fact be a chronic reality for the poor).

2. Investing is better than lending — Making money with the poor is the ultimate method of sharing resources (including expertise, connections, energy). It empowers them economically and strengthens their hand through authentic partnerships. Investing implies an ownership stake. While a loan places the responsibility for repayment primarily upon the borrower, investing in a venture requires a higher level of involvement, more due diligence, more personal commitment, and perhaps greater risk. An investor has an expectation of higher potential returns than a lender. To invest well with those with limited access to capital, whether in a welfare mom’s dream of a catering business or in a well project with peasant villagers, good investment requires a sound business plan, reasoned risk/reward ratio, adequate controls and accountability. The investor has a stake in the sustainability and profitability of the venture.

3. Lending is better than giving — While giving may seem like the kind and Christian thing to do, it often ends up undermining the very relationship a helper is attempting to build. Any one who has served among the poor for any length of time will recognize the following progression:
* give once and you elicit appreciation;
* give twice and you create anticipation;
* give three times and you create expectation;
* give four times and it becomes entitlement;
* give five times and you establish dependency.

Lending, on the other hand, establishes a mutually beneficial relationship characterized by responsibility, accountability, and respect. It is legitimate exchange that requires the lender to be responsible for assessing the risk while leaving the dignity of the borrower intact. Lending, done well, builds mutual trust and respect.

4. Exchange is better than giving — One-way charity erodes human dignity. It subtly implies that the recipient has nothing of value the giver desires in return. No one wants to be pitied as a charity case. Thus, a thrift store affords more dignity than a free clothes closet, and a food coop more than a free food pantry. To the extent the poor are enabled to participate in (preferable have ownership in) the systems intended to serve them, to that extent their self-worth is enhanced. The fair exchange of labor for goods and services is an honorable and responsible practice (though admittedly not as easy as give-away programs).

5. Never do for others what they can do for themselves — The goal of helping is empowerment. Personal responsibility is essential for social, emotional and spiritual well being. To do for others what they have the capacity to do for themselves is to dis-empower them. Welfare, as many failed government programs have demonstrated, promotes dependency and a sense of entitlement. The outcome is no different when religious or charitable organizations provide it. The struggle for self-sufficiency is, like the butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon, an essential strength-building process that should not be short-circuited by “compassionate” intervention. The effective helper can be a cheerleader, an encourager, a coach, a connector, but never a caretaker who assumes responsibility that the “helpee” is capable of shouldering.

6. Sustainability is a litmus test — When our service project is over and we return home, are those we have served empowered to sustain what we have started? If these initiatives require our on-going funding, staffing, and volunteer participation to keep them going, they are more likely dependency-producing rather than empowering. Thus, building a home or digging a well for people who do not have the training and/or resources to maintain these assets does not empower them. It may feel very good for the moment and relieve an immediate need but it does not develop capacity. The defining question is: how can we serve so as to enable the poor to become self-sustaining?

7. Consider unintended consequences — Every change has consequences. Church growth may cause traffic congestion; screw-top wine bottles puts cork producers out of work; successful sheep breeding may lead to overgrazing. While we cannot foresee all the potential consequences of our service, we should at least make some attempt to predict their impact. Are we luring indigenous ministers away from their pastoral duties to become our tour-guides and schedule coordinators for our mission trips? Are we diminishing the entrepreneurial spirit in a culture by offering our free services, gifts and grants? Are we supporting irresponsible lifestyles by indiscriminate giving from our clothes closets and food pantries? Before we embark on a mission venture we should conduct an “impact study” to consider how our good deeds might have consequences we never intended. As Hippocrates admonished: above all do no harm

8. Listen to what is not being said — A good physician learns to listen to what his patient is not saying. Perhaps out of embarrassment or fear, a patient may not disclose important data needed to correctly treat a condition. The doctor must look for clues, piece together fragments of information, use his diagnostic tools and intuition to arrive at an accurate diagnosis. The poor we serve may be quite reluctant to reveal "the whole story” to would-be helpers for a host of reasons — fear of judgment, fear of losing support, not wanting to appear unappreciative, intimidation. It would be very difficult, for instance, for a pastor in a poor Guatemalan village to tell a supporting church in the States that it would be a far better use of their money to help him create jobs for the men in his village than to spend it on plane fare to send 30 unskilled volunteers to come and do construction work for them. Likewise, a single mother trying to clothe her children may be hesitant to tell the clothes closet volunteers that their hours of operation make it difficult for working parents to shop there. Like good physicians, effective helpers must learn to observe, ask questions, use their intuition, and hear what is not being said.

AN OATH FOR HELPERS
The effectiveness of our efforts to empower the poor could be significantly enhanced if, prior to launch, would-be helpers would take the following pledge:

1. I will never do for others what they have (or could have) the capacity to do for themselves.
2. I will limit my one-way giving to emergency situations and seek always to find ways and means for legitimate exchange.
3. I will seek ways empower the poor through hiring, lending and investing and use grants sparingly as incentives that reinforce achievements.
4. I will put the interests of the poor above my own (or organizational) self-interest even when it may be costly.
5. I will take time to listen and carefully assess both expressed and unspoken needs so that my actions will ultimately strengthen rather than weaken the hand of those I would serve.
6. Above all, to the best of my ability, I will do no harm.

wonder in memphis

On the night Barack Obama was elected president and in the days that followed, I was down in Memphis, arguably the most racially divided city in the U.S. To this day a statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest, a lieutenant general in the Confederate Army during the Civil War and the first Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan still stands prominently in Memphis' central park. And the city's population remains mostly divided by the freeway "loop" that neatly separates whites from blacks.

As we (most of CRM's senior leadership) met with African American pastors and community leaders during the week, their pride in what had just happened was palpable. But it wasn't loud. It wasn't even triumphant. It was closer to shock. It almost felt like the men and women we met with were lost in the wonder of the moment and were still wondering if it had really happened, or if it was all just a dream.

Just 40 years earlier Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated on a balcony just outside his room at the Lorraine Motel in downtown Memphis. The motel has been converted into the National Civil Rights Museum and it was something we wanted to experience. It was a bit surreal for us to be there just hours after the election, knowing that the President-Elect of our country could not have even sat with us or eaten with us just 40 years ago, let alone lead us. I would have expected the place to be party central on November 5th, but It was nearly empty. There were no celebrations at the motel or in the streets...at least not the streets we walked. King had talked about a day when an African American would become president of United States, but his forecast of a black president within 25 years had long since elapsed and for many his dreams had long since been tempered.

One African American leader told us, "You know, we've always told our children they could become anything they wanted to become in this country, but not the president. Today, for the first time, I can look my kids in the eye and honestly tell them they can become anything they want to become, and now I don't have to add 'but'."

To see the wonder in their faces and to hear the hope in their voices was enough for me to celebrate the choice our country made.

soul graffiti

I'd heard great things about Mark Scandrette's book, Soul Graffiti, and I've been wanting to read it ever since we shared some tasty Thai food together last year. But I'd been feeling pretty OD-ed on books about new forms of church, so it took awhile to get to it. But I'm glad I finally got around to reading it because it's not so much about what the church should be as it is about the kind of people we can be as we intentionally put ourselves in the pathway of needs. Mark is one of those gifted people who naturally connects with people who don't share his beliefs and has a beautiful way of making the divine both understandable and compelling. I don't do that so naturally, but I'd like to, and a book like this sure helps. Here are just a handful of thoughts I highlighted from his book that might encourage you to go grab a copy of the book for yourself and give it a good read:

3: "No matter our aesthetics, there is something in the motivation of the graffiti artist that we can identify with, a guttural yelp to be heard and understood, to talk back to the universe or to God when we feel helpless, abandoned, or overwhelmed. It may be that impulse we feel to find our place of significance in the wider world, or to initiate conversation with our Make."

80: Some would say that atheists have the most courage--because of the terrorizing implication that life is without meaning or purpose"

128: "Dwelling is about connecting your words, symbols, and expressions with the ongoing conversation of meaning in your culture."

144: "We live in a fragmented world where we all yearn for wholeness."

161: "The message of Jesus is that shalom is now possible...there is a new way to be human."

172: "Who can we love a God we don't see? By loving the people we can see."

200: "Our culture allows us to claim belief without validating faith by actions."

214: "Jesus unapologetically invited people to abandon their pursuit of pleasure or wealth in order to seek the reign of love."

219: "Entering the kingdom of God is a lot like doing the Hokey Pokey on roller skates."

230: "The place to start is with your next step."

reggie mcneal keeps it simply profound

Set aside 45 minutes sometime soon to hear a good 'ol boy call out the church to be what it's supposed to be.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7739099929211880163&hl=en

a break from drinking

A friend and colleague of mine recently posted something on his blog I thought was worth passing on. Here it is with my comments immediately following:
......

I stopped drinking at the end of April. At least for a while.

Why?

1. I really felt God was asking me to. Beyond any particular reason or explanation, I’ve had this growing sense that I must.
2. I have sensed that God is wanting to do something significant - in me? through me? Perhaps this is a bit of physical fast to reinforce the spiritual - a time of preparation.
3. I don’t want to miss ANYTHING - good conversation with a friend, opportunity to hear or see God, etc.- because I’ve been drinking. Although I never drink all that much anyway, I’d hate for that to be the reason I miss something.
4. Sometimes I look at people who have been drinking (either too much or too often), and wonder, “Am I like that?” Again, don’t think so, but I’d hate for someone to get a wrong impression or be turned off by that
5. A fair amount of our community drinks, and I guess I want to lead the way in moderation in this area.

The thing is, drinking isn’t wrong. But it sure is easily abused. And because this isn’t a black and white issue, it gets a little complicated when it comes to “how much.”

- When exactly has someone had too much too drink?
- When is someone drinking too often?

I often don’t know when it comes to someone else. I’m concerned that too many of us can’t answer these questions for ourselves. Perhaps a bit of what God wants to teach me is self-control, discernment, and moderation. I don’t anticipate this is a permanent stop, and don’t actually have a plan to end. I guess I’m counting on God indicating it’s ok to drink again as strongly as He told me to stop.
................

Good for you. I suspect God is nudging us all the time to change directions, to take a new path, to try doing more of one thing and less of another, or even to just try letting go of something to see what happens in us and around us. But most of the time I think we kinda just give God a non-verbal, barely conscious, “Huh,” and then continue on unmoved and unchanged. At least I do. So good for you for listening and acting.

I agree with you that there’s nothing inherently wrong with drinking, but I’ve thought for quite awhile, (and folks in our communities are probably tired of hearing me say it), that our casual and often cavalier attitude about the use of alcohol seems to reveal a naiveté about the havoc it’s wreaking all around us and sometimes an insensitivity to those in our communities who are susceptible to hurting themselves with it. I hope we’ll be different. I hope we’ll be increasingly wise, sensitive, loving, and as you’re demonstrating, attentive to the nudgings of God.

trickle down mythology

I’m a registered Republican, and I’ve actually voted for every Republican candidate from Ronald Reagan in 1980 right through Mike Huckabee’s improbable run in this year’s presidential primaries. My folks are die-hard Republicans, so I guess I kind of just fell into the party. But I’m also naturally optimistic and I tend to think that most people will do the right thing if given the chance, so the Republican idea of a “small government” that frees up resources for people to do the right thing, (vs. a big government that does it for them), made sense to me. I bought into Reagan’s “trickle down” economic philosophy way back in 1980, but unfortunately the altruism of that policy hasn’t really played out in the real world.

Forbes magazine, the self-proclaimed "Capitalist’s Tool,” recently reported that the average CEO in 1980 was paid 40 times more than their average employee, but that by 2008 the average CEO was now making 443 times more than their average employee, a staggering discrepancy. Revenue is not trickling down, it’s being consumed at the top, and at alarmingly skyrocketing rates.

There are obviously exceptions. I know a few honorable CEOs who have voluntarily chosen to cap their salaries, to live more simply, and to pay their employees real living wages that are just and equitable with their own compensation. But sadly, when given the economic opportunity to make more money and distribute it more equitably and justly, most CEOs just aren’t choosing to do the right thing. And now I’m asking myself what’s the right thing for me to do with a historic election just around the corner.

formed or informed

For the first 2/3rds of my life I mostly read the scriptures informationally. The last third I've mostly read the scriptures formationally. Both are helpful, but they are different. The difference has to do with how we read the Bible and why we read it. Either we read the Bible informationally to learn, or we read it formationally to be changed. M. Robert Mulholland characterizes the different approaches like this:

In informaional (I) reading we...
In formational (f) reading we...

(I) Cover as much text as possible
(F) Cover what we need to

(I) Read line by line
(F) Read for depth, maybe only a phrase or two

(I) Have a goal of mastering the text
(F) Have a goal of being mastered by the text

(I) Treat the text as an object
(F) Treat ourselves as the object of the text

(I) Read analytically
(F) Read receptively

(I) Solve problems
(F) Are open to mystery

Mulholland obviously tilts the scale in favor of reading formationally, which I'd have to agree with. But I want to learn too, and I've got more than a few problems I wouldn't mind solving. So I'm not going to abandon reading informationally, but I suspect I'll probbaly keep spending most of my time in the Bible reading it to be formed.

moving movies

In the spirit of a previous post about movies that take you to another place and time, (and deep into your heart), I saw 3 terrific movies on my return from Spain that really moved me and that I'd strongly recommend:

The December Boys will take you to the Australian coast and deep into what it truly means to be family.

The Kite Runner will take you to Afghanistan and deep into the ways that betrayal plays itself out in our lives.

The Girl in the Café will take you to London and Reykjavik (and deep into the G-8 summit on the Millennial Goals) and show how one courageous voice can make all the difference in the world.

I still find myself thinking about these movies days after seeing them and pondering what they mean for me.

good questions for '08

A couple days ago I was sitting in Barnes & Noble skim reading a book over a cup of joe (I love reading $25 dollar books for the cost of a cup of coffee). It was a simple little leadership book called, QBQ!, (which stands for the Question Behind the Question), which was written by John Miller to encourage leaders, coaches, mentors, and anybody else who wants to live more productive lives to start asking ourselves and others the real questions we need to ask to eliminate blaming, complaining, and procrastination.

Miller asserts that:
“Why” questions (Why me? Why this? Why do they…?) often leads to powerlessness, victim-like thinking.
“Who” questions (Who did that? Who didn’t do that?) often leads to blaming and scapegoating.
“When” questions (When will that happen?) often leads to procrastination

His principles of good questions are simple, but really helpful. They’re built on the conviction that we are accountable for our thinking and for our behavior, and that we’re free to choose differently, to think differently, and to live differently. Here are Miller’s 3 characteristics of good questions:

1. They start with “what” or “how,” not “why,” “who,” or “when.”
2. They contain an “I,” not a “they,” “them,” or “you.”
3. They contain an action word like “do,” “contribute,” or “build.”

Here are some really helpful examples of bad questions (BQ) we often ask ourselves and others, and good questions (GQ) we should start asking:

(BQ) Why don’t they communicate better?
(GQ) How can I better understand you?

(BQ) When is somebody going to train me?
(GQ) What can I do to develop myself?

(BQ) Who dropped the ball?
(GQ) How can I contribute right now?

(BQ) Why don’t people follow through?
(GQ) How can I be a better coach?

(BQ) When are they going to get it?
(GQ) How can I communicate better?

(BQ) Why is he so self-absorbed?
(GQ) How can I be a better friend?

Those are simple, but profound questions that move us towards greater personal responsibility and personal accountability, and that’s a pretty healthy direction I'd like to move in.

the painted veil

If you like movies that take you to another time and place, you'll love The Painted Veil. This one takes you deep into the interior of China circa 1925, and deep into the pain and struggle of adapting to culture and the healing of broken relationships. There are several scenes in the movie which are profoundly spiritual, the most explicit being a scene between the Mother Superior of an orphanage and Kitty Fane, a young British volunteer whose marriage is all but dead. In this really profound scene the Mother Superior vulnerably confesses:

“I fell in love when I was 17, with God. A foolish girl with romantic notions about the life of the religious. But my love was passionate. Over the years my feelings have changed. He’s disappointed me. Ignored me. We’ve settled into a relationship of peaceful indifference. The old husband and wife who sit side by side on the sofa, but rarely speak. He knows I will never leave him. This is my duty. But when love and duty are one, then grace is within you."

I don't want to settle for peaceful indifference. I want the deep grace within that comes when passion allies itself with faithfulness. I want it in my marriage, and I want it with my God.

prince of shalom

We typically translate shalom as "peace," but "peace" just doesn't really get us there. Shalom has a far more profound meaning. It's not just the absence of conflict, war, or even anxiety. It's also the presence of a deep contentment and a satisfying wholeness. It's the prevailing presence of a radical harmony in our souls and in our worlds. John Ortberg says it like this:

• In a world where shalom prevailed, all marriages would be healthy and all children would be safe.
• Those who have too much would give to those who have too little.
• Israeli & Palestinian children would play together on the West Bank; their parents would build homes for one another.
• In offices and corporate boardrooms executives would secretly scheme to help their colleagues succeed; they would complement them behind their backs.
• Tabloids would be filled with accounts of courage and moral beauty. Talk shows would feature mothers and daughters who love each other deeply, wives who give birth to their husband's children, and men who secretly enjoy dressing as men.
• Disagreements would be settled with honesty, grace, and civility. There would still be lawyers, maybe, but they would have really useful jobs like delivering pizza, which would be non-fat and low in cholesterol.
• Doors would have no locks; cars would have no alarms.
• Schools would no longer need police presence or even hall monitors; students and teachers and janitors would honor and value one another's work. At recess, every kid would get picked for a team.
• Divorce courts and battered-women shelters would be turned into community centers, which would be staffed by professional ball players.
• Every time one human touched another, it would be to express encouragement, affection, and joy. No one would be lonely or afraid.
• And in the center of the entire community would be its magnificent architect and most glorious resident: the God whose presence fills each person with unceasing splendor and ever-increasing delight.

May the Prince of Shalom come this Christmas!

a new day

A few days ago I was down in Laguna Beach, which is one of my favorite places in the world. Just north of Main Beach, up on the bluffs overlooking the Pacific, is where I often go to linger with God. It's where I go to pray. It’s where I go to worship. For me, it's a divine sanctuary.

On this November afternoon it was warm and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The setting sun was leaving a trail of light glistening on the water, and the gentle swells were lapping up on the white sand. To my left was a string of sea gulls sunbathing along the rail of a fence. Out in front of me, past the palm trees, pelicans were diving for dinner, and off to my right a sequence of rugged rocky points were pressing into the sunset. It was picture perfect

And then the thought struck me…this piece of perfection is actually broken! As good as this…and it was good…it’s actually supposed to be better! Every element I was taking in was once purer. Everything—the land and sea, the birds of the air and the trees clinging to the hillsides—once existed in truer harmony with one another. Everything in this picture had been tainted by the consequences of human behavior, and if I had ears to hear, I might actually hear what the scriptures describe as “all of creation groaning and crying out as if in childbirth” for the day when things will be made right again.

We may not see the brokenness of creation in a place like Laguna Beach on a beautiful fall afternoon. But we do see it when fires race through our neighborhoods; when a hurricane pummels the Gulf Coast; when a cyclone devastates the Bangladeshi coast; or when an earthquake buries a village in Central America.

Even more, we see the brokenness of creation in our own lives. We see it in the pain we feel way too often. We see it whenever we stumble and fall. We see it every time we fail to be the people we want to be…the people we know we should be. Why am I so much like Paul when he wrote, “I do the very things I don’t want to do, and I don’t to the things I want to do!” Because that’s what broken people do.

Unfortunately brokenness doesn’t stop at our own skin. We experience it our relationships, in the judicial system, in the world's economy, and in our work. We know deep down in our souls that this is not the way it’s supposed to be. Not the way it was made to be. And it’s not the way it’ll always be!

The scriptures tell us that there will be a day when “all things will be made new!” There will be a day when the pains of childbirth will end, and we’ll live in a new and unbroken world. When all of creation will be back in sync with itself. A time when we’ll be fully at home in our uncompromised bodies, and we’ll live at peace in untainted relationships. There will be a time when life will be lived as it was meant to be lived.

Let these words breathed by the Spirit of God in Revelation 21:1-7 wash over you as we enter the holiday season:

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband."

"I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”

"And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” And he also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life. All who are victorious will inherit all these blessings, and I will be their God, and they will be my children."

listening at the speed of a walk

In our lives, which are all too often lived at a frenetic pace, there are times when we simply need to slow down and listen at the speed of a walk. Because if we don’t, if we continually move through life pushing the posted speed limits whenever possible, we’ll often miss the important things all around us that God wants us to see. And so there are times in my life when I put away the car keys and I go for a walk. I like to call it intentional wandering, because I go with a purpose—I go to listen, and I go to respond to what I see. I want to tell you about two walks I recently took, walks in two very different neighborhoods that are worlds apart, and yet share something in common.

On a warm Tuesday afternoon in September, Luc and I took a walk through the black township of Soshanguve in South Africa. It was great to be with Luc again, (Luc is the guy I mentored in Pretoria and who I helped buy a bride for six cows), and it was great to be back in Africa exploring another neighborhood where we are hoping to birth a new ministry. We had two objectives for our walk: 1) to get a feel for the neighborhood, and 2) to drop in at the mosque that had recently sprung up in the township and meet the imam.

First, it might be helpful to know that white people don’t walk through black townships in South Africa, and so as Luc and I walked, people unabashedly pointed at me and talked openly about the lekua (white person) on their street; quite likely the first white person they had ever seen on their street. As we walked, we prayed, eyes open, out loud, just Luc and I talking with God and each other about the things we were seeing. Sometimes we stopped to chat with people, but mostly we just prayed for these potential new neighbors of ours.

Two things really stood out to us as we walked and prayed: one was the sense of community the people in Block KK experienced in the midst of their poverty. Groups of children were everywhere…playing in schoolyards and kicking balls on the dirt roads. Teenagers were hanging out on street corners. Women clustered on porches to cook dinner together, and groups of men sat in tight circles on rickety chairs outside their corrugated tin shacks. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. I couldn’t help contrast that with our culture, which has so much stuff, and yet is so often alone and lacking the intangible asset of community.

The other thing we noticed was the need to create beauty even when you’re struggling to survive. Most of the shacks and block houses we walked past were painted…albeit in multiple colors as paint could be secured. Most yards were dirt, but the dirt was neatly racked. And even in those dirt yards there was almost always a prominently displayed flower or bush that had obviously been planted with pride and nurtured as if it were priceless. It struck both Luc and me how precious the simple things in life can become to us when we’re not feeding our insatiable appetites for more.

The last stop on our walk was the new mosque, where we wanted to meet the imam and introduce ourselves as fellow spiritual leaders who also want to be men of peace in this neighborhood. This neighborly, even diplomatic visit on our part turned out to be a bit more complicated than we had imagined.

Before we were able to meet the young imam, we had to get past the “grounds keeper,” a surly South African man about my age who saw himself as more of a bodyguard than a grounds keeper. He was deeply suspicious of our motives, and didn’t hesitate to let us know it. He did not want us anywhere near the mosque, and he had no intention of allowing us to meet the imam. Within a few minutes we were surrounded by several men from the mosque who continued to question us and challenge our intentions.

Eventually, the imam came out to the courtyard to see what was happening. He was a small, almost fragile looking young man who had recently come down from Somalia to lead this Islamic community. Without a word spoken between us, Luc and I decided that the best way for us to actually get to know the imam was for me to stay engaged with the bodyguard and the other men so that Luc could get off to the side and talk with him unimpeded. So that’s what we did.

Standing there in the courtyard with these Muslim men, I found myself experiencing their hostility—a kind of hostility I’d never felt before. As they outlined the perceived atrocities and injustices committed by our country throughout the world, I could actually feel their pain and their anger. This wasn’t a theoretical, philosophical discussion about politics and world events that most of us are accustomed to. This was personal. These men had actually suffered most of their lives, and in their eyes, I was complicit in the wrongs they had suffered. It didn’t feel fair, but fair wasn’t the point.

Even more disturbing to me was how they felt about my God and my faith, a faith that for them is epitomized by televangelists and prosperity gospel teachers who visit their township 24/7 via satellite TV. Do you know these men Robert? Are these your friends Robert? Why do people clap for them? Why do they accept applause as if they are God? Why do they wear fancy clothes and drive fancy cars? How can you believe in this Robert? As Luc was building a relational bridge with the young Somali imam, I was trying my best to explain to the South African men surrounding me that the Jesus they see represented on satellite TV is not the Jesus I see in scriptures, and that the churches most of us go to are nothing like the churches that meet in those studios and stadiums. This was an eye-to-eye, toe-to-toe moment of truth. I could see in their eyes and hear in their voices that they were struggling to believe that there actually could be a different kind of Christian faith in the world today than the one portrayed on the big screen, and that if there was such a thing, was I accurately representing what this different kind of Christian might be like?

I wish I could say they embraced what I shared and had a spiritual “aha” moment. They didn’t. But I do think I left them wondering about all they’ve seen and been told about Jesus and his followers. I think I left them wondering if there was another story out there that needed to be considered. And at a minimum, I hope they experienced a different kind of Christian…one they didn’t need to be angry at or fear.

As Luc and I walked back to the car, he said, “I’m sure glad nothing bad happened with those guys, especially on this day.” “What do you mean, on this day?” I asked. “Well, today is 9/11. Didn’t you know?” No, I actually didn’t. And I’m kind of glad I didn’t. I can just imagine what they must have thought when they saw this big white guy walking into their mosque on 9/11!

We would have never experienced what we did on this September 11th if we hadn’t carved out a couple of hours to listen at the speed of a walk. We met people who were kind and inviting, and people who were hurt and angry. We experienced some community assets and some liabilities that we may have missed if we were just driving by. I’d encourage you to give it a try in your neighborhood. Take some time to intentionally wander through your neighborhood with God and see what he wants to show you. You may be surprised.

A couple of months after that walk, I walked through another neighborhood on the other side of the world, a neighborhood just an hour or so away from our home. It’s a neighborhood we’re hoping to birth another new ministry team in. In a future post, I’ll tell you about that neighborhood and what we’re hearing as we listen at the speed of a walk.

casper the friendly atheist

I just read a fun and provocative little book that has stimulated some good thinking and some verbal sparring among some friends of mine. The book was written by Jim Henderson, a follower of Jesus, and Matt Casper, an atheist. It’s called Jim and Casper Go To Church. (Yep, that’s the actual title…makes you want to read it, doesn’t it?) It’s the whimsical and sometimes disconcerting story of their visits to a dozen different churches sprinkled across the states, particularly focusing on the observations and insights Jim was able to elicit from Matt Casper, the friendly atheist.

It didn’t take Matt long to wonder if there was some kind of script that churches are supposed to follow, because even though they experienced some stylistic differences in churches, almost all of them seemed to do essentially the same things. While they were taking in all the Sunday morning happenings and having a groundhog day experience, the question kept resurfacing, Did Jesus tell you guys to do all this?

That’s a great question. Over time, we add layers and layers to our programs and services. New ideas get added on to our traditional operating systems and our churches start to feel like the religious equivalent of Microsoft code. We do lots of stuff and add lots of bells and whistles to our events because we think people will like it.

And then a guy like Matt comes along who simply asks, Is this what Jesus told you guys to do? And then, with a biblical literacy that defies his own beliefs, he wonders why we gather so often in big comfortable spaces and put lots of money and energy into self-gratifying services instead of just keeping things simple, rolling up our sleeves and living out Jesus' love where it’s needed most, which is probably not in these buildings.

Good stuff. If you’re interested in hearing about their little journey, check out their book, Jim and Casper Go To Church. But here’s the question some friends of mine have been sparring over, and I’d like to invite you into the skirmish:

Should we even care what an atheist thinks of our church?

After all, atheists are not our audience, right? Church is for believers, right? I mean, it's great that non-believers occasionally drop in to visit, but the church doesn't exist for them. Hmm. Is that true? Well, then who are we doing this for? Who are we really putting on all these services for anyway?

I’d love to hear your take on that question(s).

I’ll give you my take in the form of a metaphor. Let’s say you were going to invite some friends over to have dinner with your family. Would you care what they thought? Would you consider what might make it a more enjoyable evening for them? Of course you would. It would be strangely awkward to invite people to your place if you didn’t even care about what they thought. Now, would you cook something your family didn’t enjoy just to satisfy your guests? Would you ask your family to become something other than who they really are so the guests are satisfied? I hope not. You’d probably prepare something you think your whole family and your guests would enjoy. And you’d hope your family was comfortably genuine, engaged, and engaging, (okay, and maybe a bit more polite than usual).

So, is that dinner for your family, or for your guests? Both, isn’t it? It was true to your family. It nourished their appetites, and it invited their real, genuine presence. And it was thoughtful. It also considered the needs of those who were invited to join you.

Now, that doesn’t mean you won’t have lots of "just family" meals. You need to do that, and if you get some drop-in guests, well, they may have to flex a bit to fit in.

But any time we open our doors to guests, when we invite our neighbors to join us in our community gatherings, we are by definition entering into an act of hospitality. And the exercise of hospitality--caring about all who are in the room--is a very Jesus-like thing to do.

What’s your thought?

most christians aren't

I always find it curious when people instantly find confidence in other people because they've identified themselves as "Christian." You know what I mean, like when you hear someone say, "I feel really good about my accountant because she's a Christian." Or, "I'm so excited because my son got a Christian teacher at his public school." Heck, I even find myself doing that.

But a recent survey conducted by the Barna Research Group found that only 9% of people who identified themselves as "Christian" actually held a Christian worldview. In other words, only 9% of "Christians" actually think biblically. 91% of "Christians" don't even think like Christ. So are they even Christian? And is having a Christian worldview really even sufficient to be considered a genuine Christian?

In the 1st century A.D. people who followed Jesus were known as people of The Way. In other words, you knew who they were not because of how they labeled themselves, but because of the way they lived their lives. Today it seems like way too many of us can admire and worship Jesus without doing what he did. We can applaud the things he taught and the things he cared about without actually following his teachings or caring about those same things. I wonder how many of that 9% who have a Christian worldview actually live out what they say they believe.

It turns out Christian isn't much of an adjective anymore, and maybe not even much of a noun either. Maybe we should look for a new word--or perhaps an old word--to describe those who think and live like Jesus. The word Jesus used was disciple, which means follower, or student. It was a word commonly used in the trades of his day, a trade world characterized by an apprenticeship form of education in which an apprentice (disciple) gained knowledge and competence by emulating the practices of a master. Apprentices were discipled by their masters, and they became like their masters.

Maybe it's time Barna and his group stoped asking who is Christian, and started asking who is living out the revolutionary love of Jesus. Only then will we find out what percentage of our population is truly Christian.