:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

As our church in Connecticut sorted out its future, one of the church’s new leaders started to share her vision that children needed to become a higher priority in our community. As a church in a college town, it was easy to overlook the 5-6 kids who showed up each week. However, she was absolutely right. Part of our calling as a community was to support the spiritual growth of our children.

If we could not bond together for the sake of our children, were we any different from the dull disciples who tried to send the children away from Jesus?

The hard part here is that children’s ministry can become one of the many black holes that consume volunteers.

Churches abuse volunteers horribly.

Churches die without volunteer ministers.

If we want our communities to thrive, we need to participate in them, but then sometimes volunteering and serving takes on a life of its own where volunteers are expended as fuel for the sake of making the organization and programs thrive. On the one hand we need to invest in our kids, but on the other, there is a tremendous amount of pressure to create a “successful” children’s ministry that grinds up volunteers in the process.

This once again raises the question of whether we’re trying to help people thrive or whether we’re trying to help the organization thrive and survive.

Are we volunteering to serve one another or our community because it is good for others and ourselves, or are we volunteering because someone (sometimes it’s just us, sometimes it’s our leaders, sometimes it’s both) to help our organization become successful and well known?

When I visited one church, I happened to mention that I played guitar, and a couple immediately said, “Oh, you should play on our worship team. We need a male voice up there.”

Did you catch that? They were looking at a struggling program, and they needed fresh fuel to help it run better.

They didn’t ask me about where I was at with God. If they had, they would have found out that I’d been burned out terribly from music ministry. I’d grown weary of the complaining and the endless requests to meet someone else’s expectations and standards—the endless pushing and tugging for each person to get his/her own way.

I wanted no part of the music ministry at that point in my life. Truth be told, I was also clinging to my own way of doing church, pushing and tugging for dominance. There was one way to describe my volunteer relationship with the church back then: toxic for both of us.

The church and I were like a married couple desperately clinging to get our own ways because we feared that the other didn’t have our best interests in mind. The problem was that I’d been married to church organization, not the people.

As my friends began to dream about what our church could mean for the children among us, God showed me what he’d been hinting at all along: Christian community is not about the church serving me or me serving the organization. It’s about serving the people in our community.

I’d put up walls around myself in the church because I feared the organization would latch onto me and suck me dry like a relentless oil platform drilling down into my life until all of the fuel had been extracted.

My friend who asked us to rethink our approach to children’s ministry wasn’t concerned about making our church organization great. She simply saw a few kids who needed more attention from the adults, and she asked us to make sacrifices to ensure they’ll receive the support they need to follow Jesus.

When we sacrifice ourselves to an organization, we may get a mug, watch, or picnic. When we sacrifice ourselves on behalf of one another, we have a chance to see the life of God taking root and springing up among others. Serving one another brings more life, and that life can’t help but spread.

Last week I watched my friends and colleagues share a video by a young man who claimed to love Jesus and hate religion. Some identified with his passion for Jesus and his desire to leave hypocrisy behind. Others weren’t so sure he could slam the religious practices that can be so central to following Jesus with sincerity, let alone the religious tradition that has been passed on to us.

Those who had their doubts about this young man suggested that religion isn’t just bad stuff. Religion can be anything from regular Bible reading to reading liturgy to fasting. We can do all of these things with either sincere or hypocritical hearts. In response to that, the supporters of the young man said, “You’re not defining religion in the same way as him.” To that I say: EXACTLY!

If anything, this young man has succeeded in proving that we need theology today, and for that, I thank him. Any time we see well-meaning holy fervor expressed with a jumble of confusing ideas, we see a need for theology. We can’t “just love” Jesus because no one has been able to do that—ideas always creep in no matter what. There is no pure way to love Jesus that can transcend the beliefs and practices that have been passed on to us. We always attach something “religious” to our worship, and if we try to break free from the past, we’ll just make up new religious things to pass on to others.

Theology helps us because it defines what we’re talking about. Theology constructs a common playing field where we can sort out what religion actually is and all that it means. Theology saves us from turning religion into this huge, enormous, awful embodiment of everything we hate.

This isn’t to say that theology wants to “save” religion. Rather, theology helps us see what it is and what it isn’t. In fact, every theologian I know approached his video from a similar perspective—trying to grapple with the ways this young man defined religion. If we fail to define religion, its advantages, and its disadvantages accurately, we’ll cut ourselves off from traditions, beliefs, and practices that have been instrumental in guiding Christians for centuries. We may also expose ourselves to reinventing Jesus into our own image without the stabilizing influence of tradition.

The downside of theology is that it can be quite dull. In fact, the problem with most theology texts is they begin by defining their terms at length and describing the current book’s position in an ongoing discussion. This is rather dull, thankless work that is hard to present to the average reader.

I struggled to present the basics of theology in an accessible format in Coffeehouse Theology only for one reviewer to say it was too simplistic to be of any use and another reviewer to say that I’d lost touch with how to communicate with normal human beings.

When we want to make sweeping statements about religion and our beliefs, we’re crossing into complex, daunting territory. I don’t slam this young man for his sincerity or desire to share his love for Jesus. I don’t think anyone is interested in that. Rather, this is a word of caution to make sure we know what we’re talking about when we speak of such large things as “religion.”

This Jesus vs. religion thing has been around for years. There were plenty of books and blog posts about it before YouTube was a sketch in a computer engineer’s notebook. As long as we have had this discussion, we have struggled to define what religion means. For most of us, religion has come to mean “anything we didn’t find life-giving in Christianity.”

Theologians can help us sort out religion, Jesus, and what it means to follow Jesus without tossing the good things that have been passed down to us. And even if we can’t figure out what they’re talking about in their thick books with tiny text, we should at least know that the number one rule for any theology discussion is this: define your terms.

I once heard an interview with comedian Dennis Leary who shared that his grade school teacher told him that anyone could be president. He returned home that day and asked his dad, “Can anyone be president?”

“Sure, anyone can,” his dad replied.

“Could I be president?” young Dennis asked.

His dad snorted and replied, “Are you kidding me?”

I like conversations like that because Leary’s father didn’t necessarily discourage him from pursuing a successful career. He simply understood who his son is and where he would be successful—i. e. not politics.

Why I Want to Fail

I have a little hobby on Twitter where I unfollow everyone who posts pithy motivational sayings about never giving up, never quitting, and failure being a choice we don’t have to make. I wrote about this a little while back in a post called Jesus Hates the Smell of Failure, and I wanted to follow up with some additional thoughts about the pitfalls of “never” giving up.

For instance, I want to fail. I don’t want to exclusively fail, but I’ve been thinking lately that I want God to expose everything that is not part of his plan for my life. I want anything outside of his plans for me to wither and die.

Arriving at this point wasn’t easy.

The Success I Crave: God’s Path and Provision

After seeing a friend of mine receive some fresh opportunities from out of the blue, I began to think, “Gosh, I wish God would affirm my direction in life like that!” Some days I feel like I’m just slogging along with the same old list of things to do. I begin to wonder if anything is going to change, if something big will ever happen again.

Sitting down in church yesterday, I recalled that God had actually affirmed a new project in several ways. In fact, he had even provided the way to develop it that I’ve always craved. In many ways, God has affirmed and provided for me. I had just missed it.

That startled me. How dense could I be? God has already been providing for the path he wants me to follow?

The next obvious question was this: Am I missing anything else?

Why yes, there was. Of course there was. A note from a friend later in the day affirmed something else I’ve been working on.

As soon as I began to ask God to cut off anything that wasn’t from him and to affirm anything that was from him, I began to see his fingerprints in several key areas of my life. I have no doubt that I’ll always find new paths to follow. I need to keep praying this prayer: “Frustrate what is not from you, affirm and provide for anything that is part of your plan.”

I pray that I will be frustrated, that plans will fail, and that I’ll sing God’s praises while walking through the ruins.

May God frustrate us until the day he reveals the path laid out for us. May God give us grace, patience, and courage to wait on his timing, to submit to his process, and to leap at the opportunity when the time comes.

I was careful to avoid saying that I would never go to church again, but it was certainly hard to imagine how it would ever happen again. Nine years ago I left a season of rooted stability in my faith and entered into a six-year season of transition into another expression of Christianity.

The basics remained the same, but over that time my perceptions of the church, salvation, the mission of God, the ministry of the church, and my own life calling passed through a major, major overhaul. I don’t know if you’ve ever done major renovations on a house before, but much like house renovations, my faith renovations were not pretty.

I was angry, frustrated, and disappointed at various times. I had a hard time tolerating those who remained rooted with their faith in tact. Sometimes I struck out at them, and sometimes they struck out at me for asking unsettling questions.

I’m now in a season of relative stability, rooted in a take on God that fits my limited perspective. As I look back over the past nine years of transition, I can see how others around me are in similar seasons of being either rooted or transitioning.

• Some have been disappointed by Christianity for various reasons and left the faith.
• Some have switched from one denomination to another.
• Some are still wandering.
• Some have found loving Christian community in new places that had previously been off their radar.

If we hope to keep the unity of Christ in the midst of our divisions, we need to understand these seasons. Besides our divisions over beliefs and practices, we can also divide over our seasons of belief.

At the risk of oversimplifying things, here are three seasons I have observed:

The Rooted Season of Faith

Many of us are in a rooted season in our faith where we have a certain level of comfort with our understanding of the Bible, our spiritual practices, and the ways we serve others. Those who are rooted need to be aware of welcoming those who are sprouting in their faith and have yet to find their place, while also remaining patient with those who are being transplanted.

The Transplant Season of Faith

For some of us who have been rooted in one spot for a while, sometimes the old answers and ways of doing things stop making sense. We all have our different reasons for pulling up our roots and moving elsewhere, though sometimes wider trends emerge.

Transplants are often in vulnerable positions, as they don’t feel like they fit anywhere, their beliefs have been shaken in some way, and they may be hurting enough to become combative. The hardest thing for a rooted person is patiently loving an argumentative transplant. I reached a point during my own transplant process that I actually couldn’t go to church for a season because I wasn’t in a healthy place to deal with it.

Besides spreading conflict, another problem with transplants is they sometimes rush into something new without dealing with their previous hurts and disappointments. I saw this a lot with folks who were disappointed by the church and then jumped right into house churches or emerging churches without seeking healing first.

The Sprouting Season of Faith

On the opposite end of the spectrum from the more jaded transplants are the sprouts, Christians who are still enthusiastic about their faith. The danger with sprouts is transplants can snuff out their zeal with their grievances, while those who are rooted may fail to reach out to them and nurture them in the faith.

A sprout can wither easily and get trampled down if it isn’t guarded with care. Sprouts will have lots of questions and they may feel overwhelmed by the maturity of those with deep roots. Those who are rooted must make sure they protect the sprouts from storms and hard times, ensuring they receive the nourishment from God they need so badly.

Besides different beliefs and practices, Christians differ with their seasons of faith. I’m sure there are folks who would claim to be hybrids or something different altogether, but these three seasons keep coming up for me. When we understand the seasons of faith of those in our communities, we’ll be able to love them right where they’re at today.

Do these seasons of faith make sense to you?

Have you passed through a season of transition or of being rooted?

Nine years ago we were newlyweds. I remember when our photo album arrived from the photographer with 4×6 prints and negatives. Yes kids, people actually used to hold pictures in their hands, and you could only make another print if you brought the negative to a developer—I’m sorry if all of this is making your head spin.

I looked through the pictures and began to think about having some prints made, buying frames, and putting up some pictures around the house. Perhaps a nice picture of Julie for my desk and a portrait in our bedroom.

However, I had seminary classes, my wife was attending graduate school, and it seemed like we never found the time for it. We’d wait for later—a time when we’d have more time.

Nine years later, I’ve made no progress on this. Worse than that, there are so many things that I’ve put off by telling myself, “I’ll get to this when I have more time.”

It’s like I’ve created this fairy land in my future where I’m be rested, relaxed, and completely at leisure to do as I please. The truth is that we can always fill up our time with something. You can never have “enough” time.

One area where God is working on my heart lately is the stewardship of my time and how badly I can waste it. One night I drove over to our community market, which is an amazing natural foods/organic grocery coop. It’s in the middle of our residential neighborhood, so I parked on the street and could see the lights from televisions flashing in every single living room on our block.

The sight saddened me, but then God, champion for hypocrisy exposure, reminded me that I was chomping at the bit to go home and watch a bit of hockey. There was no use arguing that hockey is morally superior and more redemptive than Dancing with the Stars, even if I know that’s true. The matter was one of time and priorities.

I can always put off important things by saying that I’ll have more time in the future for them. This is a lie that turns me into the victim of the circumstances, when in reality I’m a victim of my own mismanagement—which is another way of saying that it’s my fault alone.

When Jesus came to earth, Simon and Anna proclaimed that God’s salvation had come that day. Herod sought to kill the newborn child because the threat to his rule was immediate. When God acts, there is no room for delay. We can’t let our circumstances become obstacles.

Jesus told his disciples that the time has come now. Today is the day to repent. Today is the day to follow him. When a man tried to put off following Jesus in order to take care of his family obligations, Jesus wouldn’t let him off the hook.

God’s timeframe is always now, not later. As much as I’d like to delay dealing with my sins and bad habits, God wants to heal them now. As much as I’d like to fill my day up with “important” tasks, God wants me to pray now. Whenever God prompts us to act or sit, to think or rest, he’s seeking what’s best for us.

I keep thinking that I’ll get to these things, but if I expect God to heal me in the future, he’s actually saying that he wants to do it now. He doesn’t want me to wait for a day when I’ll be less busy, less stressed out, and less fragmented because that day will never come. While I wait for life to become less stressful, I miss out on the source of healing that I need the most—the one thing that I’ve been waiting for.

Today’s post is a synchroblog with Christine Sine. Check out her post: Jesus is Coming—What Do We Expect?

And hey, did you know Advent is coming? I contributed to this great collection of meditations that is now available: Waiting for the Light: An Advent Devotional. Also check out Christine’s advent video.

Last night I realized that I may have an unhealthy relationship with my computer…

Dear Loving Computer Screen,

Thank you for always being on whenever I need you. Thank you for providing me with work to do and money in my bank account. Thank you for giving me thousands of followers and hundreds of friends. Thank you for providing hours of streaming NHL hockey to help me battle the evil forces of laundry and dishes.

I offer my day to you, focusing my eyes on your brightly illuminated pixels in search of guidance and provision. Only you can provide the programs I need to open, the hyperlinks I need to click, and the Klout that I desire so badly.

Only you can connect me to the infinite wisdom and entertainment of the internet. Only you can make my day better.

Guide me, consume my time, and fill me with the good things I desire from life. May I rest in the peace of your presence throughout today. Be with me whether I’m online or offline, for now and until you’re rendered obsolete by the next big thing.

A-RAM

Do you ever feel like you’re always plugged in? It’s like sometimes my life is so tied to the internet that I can’t escape it.

I work through the internet. I keep in touch with friends through the internet. I watch hockey through the internet.

The hard part is that even my leisure can begin to merge with my work, and if I’m misbehaving, my work can be slowed by my leisure. In order to make the most of my time in either category, I need to be fully present with one or the other.

And yet more and more, I find myself fighting against blurring lines. Time leaks away from work, or work tries to invade my quiet Sunday afternoons.

A gift I’ve received from God lately has been permission to fully rest. When I’m relaxing on an evening or weekend, I have permission to just focus on a full period of hockey without checking my e-mail—unplugging from my work. If I’m taking a walk, the phone stays turned off. If I’m eating dinner on the porch, the computer, Nook, and phone stay inside while I watch the sunset swirl with reds, oranges, and purples.

I keep hearing this whisper over and over again to be fully present where I’m at. This is so different from my frantic, multi-tasking tendencies, that I can only say it is something that God is impressing on me.

This week has been particularly busy. I’m going to the Indianapolis Christian Writing Conference on Friday, and I picked up some extra projects. I’ve worked some long days. I could have worked even longer days.

Despite my overwhelming to-do list, last night I sensed that I needed to eat dinner on the porch and spend a little time in the living room with the rabbits while a hockey game played in the background. These aren’t things that I do naturally. My wife is often shocked to see me sitting on the couch, just relaxing.

These short, simple pleasures were gifts. I would never give myself permission to stop. I can always find another project, another e-mail, and another chore.

God’s gift to me has been rest—permission to unplug and enjoy an evening at home. Rest is just as available and unlimited as my projects and work, but I need to choose to receive it.

Read more posts about God’s gifts today at Faith Barista: The Book that Would Not Go Away

In the sometimes illogical world of sports where beards are grown in the playoffs and jerseys are left unwashed for good luck, there is a term for fair-weather fans who only support a team at the peak of its success: bandwagon fans. The bandwagon fans don’t endure the losing seasons or the ups and downs along the road to winning the championship.

Bandwagon fans want all of the enjoyment at the end of the season without enduring the regular season. So far as I can tell, that’s perfectly fine in sports. However, when we apply the bandwagon fan principle to other things, it’s not quite as attractive.

The Bandwagon Fan for Campaigns

For example, we have politicians campaigning right now for positions such as president, best friend to lobbyists, and most likely be swayed by large campaign donors. Campaigns have staff and volunteers who invest long, hard days for the sake of their candidates.

Can you imagine someone refusing to help this candidate when given the chance, merely clicking a button in the voting both, and then celebrating as if he/she had been an integral part of the campaign? The bandwagon fan doesn’t look so hot in that scenario.

Bandwagon Faith

The interesting thing about Jesus, is that he’ll welcome anyone into the Kingdom at anyone point of his/her life. If you receive Jesus with your dying breath, you’re just as much a part of the Kingdom as someone who was raised in a Christian home, serving Christ with every breath.

There are no merit badges to accumulate in the Kingdom. We can enter it at any time.

On the other hand, when we are given an opportunity to follow Jesus today, and we put it off until a later point, we have a major problem. We are reminded in the book of Hebrews that today is the day of salvation. If you hear God’s voice today, don’t ignore it.

Let his voice speak into your life, and then take action. Faith is demonstrated by works in the present, not future aspirations.

Bandwagon faith says that we don’t need to fully commit ourselves to God’s Kingdom campaign today. The “bandwagonner” plans to celebrate fully in the Kingdom some day, but fails to invest in the work of God today. Bandwagon faith tries to squeak by with the bare minimum of commitment, ignoring the call of God in the present.

When Christians fail to live in obedience, it’s like we’re saying to God, “We’ll take care of ourselves today, and we’ll get around to you later. Oh, and we can’t wait for that big party with you some day!”

Obedience make’s God’s call a priority, taking tentative, sometimes faltering steps forward. When we leave bandwagon faith behind, we are able to find the joy and peace of God in our present circumstances, even if the way forward is sometimes uncertain and difficult.

We learn that the joy and celebration promised in God’s coming Kingdom can actually be ours to enjoy today. Bandwagon faith robs us of the most precious gift of God: Jesus fully present in our lives today through his Spirit.

The final straw arrived last night—the one that breaks the camel’s back. Like an angry camel I flopped onto the ground flailing and spitting. Proverbially spitting that is.

Or are llamas the ones who spit?

Regardless of the spitting involved, I hit my limit last night. Enough things had gone wrong, enough projects had piled up, enough incidental circumstances had mounted to the point that I snapped.

The crazy thing is that under normal circumstances, the final straw was actually a pretty good thing tinged with a few problems. It was something that I would normally thank God for. But oh last night, I didn’t need one more thing to do. One more urgent deadline was too much after pushing to meet more deadlines than I could count. The constant urgency of one thing after another got to me.

I stomped out of the house because I needed to break my little pity party. I needed… Mediterranean food. I could try to tie this back to my camel metaphor (I mean, where else would a camel in Columbus go?), but I’ll just stop things there since I ate a lamb wrap.

A few hours later I had some perspective.

I hadn’t prayed about things. I’d just reacted. It was alright that I recognized a need for a change of scenery, but it took me far too long to realize that some of the things that had pushed me over the edge were essentially answers to my prayers.

I just didn’t expect those answers to my prayers to arrive along with all of this other junk.

So now I just feel like an ungrateful jerk who asks God for stuff and then doesn’t even recognize it when it arrives. In fact, I had the audacity to see his blessings as a problem.

I feel like I need to channel my inner Ann Voskamp and work on this gratitude thing. My spirit runs dry for want of gratitude and worship.

My mother-in-law once said that we overcome sin and the schemes of the enemy with worship. And if I was honest with myself, something that is not a guarantee, I’d have to say my “woe is me” attitude is a pretty good sign that I’ve been a tad self-absorbed lately.

I need to redirect my worship to where it belongs.

I had to confront one of my fears a few weeks ago. It’s a bit too private to share all of the details on a blog, but if I had to list the top three things that freak me out, I’d say this is right up there. It’s the kind of fear that I can’t control, that I know can only be resolved through prayer that I’ve been too afraid to seek.

A few weeks ago, I decided to take action. I wasn’t facing anything life threatening or uncomfortable, but I was in a situation that made it really easy to face that fear. The freak out was pretty awesome: sweaty palms, beating heart, short breaths. I was a ball of fun at close quarters in the elevator that day.

And then something changed. I gained an understanding of the actual source of my fear, and I realized that I’d completely mischaracterized it. It wasn’t quite as bad as I thought, even if it still kind of freaks me out.

By staring into my fear, I discovered a weak point in its defenses, and you’d better believe I’m praying into that weak spot with everything I’ve got.

On Becoming Less Fearful

I had a chat with some classmates at my 10-year college reunion, and one guy asked how we’ve changed over the past 10 years. One friend said that he is now less fearful after working through so many hard times at his first job. He cares far less about what people think of him, and he is far more confident as takes risks and pursues challenges.

In a sense, his first job blasted him with so many sources of stress and anxiety that they soon lost their power. He saw them at their worst, and he realized that God was able to sustain him.

There are real things to fear in this world, but so much of what we fear is insubstantial, lacking teeth. The substantial parts of our fears may knock us around when we face them, but God is able to deliver us because Jesus is Lord over all.

Facing our fears often seems like a terrible at idea in the thick of things. However, we’ll never have a chance to experience God’s power and deliverance unless we own our fears and let him begin working in us.

I have found that deliverance is often a process, a series of stumbling steps forward. As I discovered in the elevator that day with my nervous faith, God can break through and begin to heal us when we face our fears.