I'm like the fidgetting kid in church. You?

I'm antsy. Do you know the feeling? It's a mix of expectation, anxiety, excitement and fear. It's like driving behind someone who has had their directional on for awhile. Do they know it's on? Are they going to turn? Is anything going to happen? When?

I feel like the Lord has been getting me ready for something. My heart is shifting, the things I enjoy are changing and something is building up in me that could be called "vision." It's been happening in Robin simultaneously.

Have you ever had something to say but you just can't seem to get it out in the midst of all the other noise? For example, you're at a meeting and the ideas are flying but you just don't get a chance to add what you're thinking. Take that up a few notches. Picture yourself as an assistant coach dutifully performing your role game after game. You've been doing it for years. The coach is great but you just have this sense that you're ready to take a team of your own. It's a good change. It doesn't come out of anything negative. It comes from preparation and vision.

That's how I feel. Ready.

Ready for what? I have no idea! Maybe 2010 will be when we sell everything and head for the mission field. Maybe God will lead us to a group of hurting people who are facing their church closing and use us to reignite vision for their community. Maybe we'll buy a farmhouse and minister to unwed moms and use the barn for worship space. College ministry? Campus pastor? Planter? Whatever it is, we're excited about it.

I'm antsy. I'm about to burst with a desire to share what I have been learning in Scripture. I don't want to preach at people as much as I want to invite them to explore Jesus with me. I am anxious to build a team and lead others into discovering how to follow Christ. I'm ready, willing and waiting for direction.

Things change in life. My perception is that the teens I work with would go further with someone younger. They need the community-building energy of lock-ins and retreats. They are ready to be challenged by whoever it is that the Lord has been preparing to begin a ministry with them. How many teenagers want to hang out with someone who is older than their dads?  I love them enough to see that I am probably limiting them. They deserve more than a maintenance mindset.

Will 2010 will be when the Lord moves us? Maybe He has more prep work to do in our hearts before He sends us. Will you pray that we learn what we must and that He sends us with clarity? Be excited with us.

And I double-dog-dare you to pray, "Lord, here I am, use me however and wherever you wish." He is showing me that amazing adventures lie ahead if we will just drop our nets and follow Him.

Is. 6:8 Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"

What would you do if God showed up?

I run into a lot of people who are waiting to hear from God. I meet people who want to know God's Will for this and that decision. "What car does God want me to buy? Where does God want me to go to college? What's God got lined up for me in the area of love and romance?"

It's kinda like God is an American fortune cookie. We want to crack something open, take out a slip of paper and read, "Hey, God here. My Will is for you to buy the three bedroom house on Elm Street."

I want to hear from God. You want to hear from God. We've got questions for Him to answer. We want to know why bad things happen. We want to ask Him why He let the axel on our car rust out when He supposedly loves us. We shoot little prayers skyward saying, "God, I don't get it."

And then, over on the shelf near the decorative snowmen, there's a book that's different from the other books. We've grown up hearing it called "God's Word." We've heard that it tells us about God and is full of God stuff. But, truth is, we've read books on glistening, moody, romantic vampires and mysteries about who killed who in the library with a candlestick while that God book just sat there.

Heck, we've even read books by authors writing about that book. But, that book? We can't remember the last time we read it. We read about the secret code of the book and even went to see a movie or two about it. That was cool. Things blew up and conspiracies built up into exciting chase scenes.

We sit around and say things like, "I feel like God would feel this way" and "My God isn't like that." The book sits.

How would your life be different if you really believed that book was the actual words of God? That book written over 1400 years on three different continents by more than 40 authors is different than other books. It is inspired by God. It communicates His heart and shows us what He does.

That book is difficult. It cuts me, scares me, encourages me and educates me. If it were a movie, it would be rated R. Sometimes it helps me sleep well and other times it leaves me tossing and turning all night. It is alive.

Want to know God? Grab that book. Before you "feel" this or "think" that about God, what have His very words told you?

I am learning to love this disturbing, defining, direction-giving book. I am learning that this Holy God is so much bigger than my fortune cookie approach. I am learning that His opinion is often different than mine. And while I still await His direction for the next steps in life, I am learning to be content right where I am now. His book is teaching me that godly men were not as concerned with comfort as I am; they wrote letters from prison cells, hung on a cross upside down or were persecuted.

God showed up. His words are over there on your shelf in that bible with its books of history, poetry, prophecy, songs and biography. I dare you to take it down and turn to Matthew to start reading of Jesus and what made Him tick.

Before I speak for God and use Him to elevate my personal agenda, I want to be sure to I know what His Word says. I want to know His Word.

Every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another - showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God's way. 2 Timothy 3:16

I met Scrooge. So young and so angry.

Scrooge is a girl and she's madder than a wet hornet. She hates Christmas. She's a self-proclaimed hater of consumerism and is a fan of what she calls "social justice." Her causes range from hunger to war to sexual orientation to diet.

She's mostly mad at fellow Christians. She often spouts off all that is wrong with the church and wags her finger at its lack of action for her causes. Jesus would support the causes she supports; she has no doubt. The facts of more than 200 billion dollars given by individuals to fight hunger, oppression, provide clean water and medicine and educate are of little concern even when compared with only 26 billion in aid given by the US government.

She's mad at Christians who dare offend others with a wish of "Merry Christmas" and is angry that the holiday is far from representing Jesus. She's mad at consumerism though she texts, blogs, surfs the internet, loves YOUtube and has several hundred dollars worth of gadgets she needs. "How can Christians spend so much on their toys while 53 percent of the world lives on less than $2 per day," is her cry. Meanwhile she'll drop another $15-$20 this weekend to bang her head to the latest band that comes through town.

I agree with much of what she says but am amazed that she can't see herself in any of her criticisms. Those darn Christians! How can they say they love Christ when they support this American economy of excess?

If she believed in Christmas I know just what I'd get her.  I'd get her a mirror.

My mom always told me to be careful pointing at others. She showed me that whenever I pointed the one finger I had three other fingers pointing back at me.

"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?" Matthew 7:3

Who's afraid of barns?

Why do we work so hard to make Jesus unapproachable when God put so much effort into tearing down barriers? Why do we build ornate cathedrals, invest in expensive garments and commission intricate stained glass? Each gold-plated decoration puts more distance between God and the common man.


I understand where it comes from. God is holy and fully deserving of the best. The Old Testament tabernacle, the dwelling place of God, was breathtaking and perfect. But that changed with Jesus. Man became the dwelling place of the Spirit of God. No building is God's house today.

I've been looking at the Christmas story and am overwhelmed by how underwhelming it is. It's simple and ordinary except for angels and wisemen.

First, God announced the birth of Jesus to shepherds. Few people were lower on the caste ladder than shepherds. Theirs was a position of no status or noteriety. When making decisions or seeking advice, no one went looking for shepherds.

Second, Jesus was in a feeding trough. It makes sense since there was a feeding trough that his birthplace was in a livestock setting. Do you get that? No one feels intimidated in barns. No one puts on their fancy shoes to go feed the livestock. I can't think of a simpler, less ornate, less religious setting.

Why did God choose such a humble setting? Maybe the key is in John 3:16 in the word "whoever." Whoever would believe would receive. Simple.

So many people stay away from Jesus because they aren't religious, don't have good enough clothes, have no money or feel like they won't fit in with the church crowd. Maybe you're one of them. Would you feel the same if I invited you to come tour a barn with me?

I think that's the simplicity that God had in mind. From shepherds to kings, from criminals to humanitarians, from poor to rich, from uneducated to matriculated, from plain to fancy ... everyone is welcome to approach the manger. As the Christchild grew, that never changed. Everyone is welcome.

Let's stop lining up hurdles for people to jump before we invite them to begin a relationship with Jesus.

What Not to Wear; Church Edition

Maybe, we should all worship naked.

Now before you get all offended on me, hear my rationale. This past Sunday I had the privilege of preaching. I always love it when I get the opportunity to share what the Lord has been doing in this messy life of mine and I think it occasionally even encourages a few folks to draw closer to Jesus.

At FBC, the first service bears the label "traditional." What that means is we get to hear a dapper-looking choir in matching robes, we sing hymns and listen to organ music mixed with piano. Neckties are important, suit coats are pressed and hairdos are puffy. It's a good-looking crowd.

The second service is labeled "contemporary." Praise bands play guitars, bass and drummers drum while we sing the latest in Christian music. More than a few coffee cups can be spotted sporting their Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts logos and older people wonder if younger people are experiencing a shortage of combs because their hair has purposely been made to look somewhat chaotic. Neckties are few and far between and jeans are more the norm for the men.

The same message is preached to each crowd.

I play dress-up for the first service. I put on a suit and tie even though it makes me feel somewhat like a poser. For the second service I change into my comfortable clothes and feel more at home and able to breath. What puzzles me is the way people react.

I had one woman pretty upset with me when she saw that I had changed out of my suit and tie after the first service. "Don't you want to give God your best?" she asked. For her, my suit was "my best" and my jeans and argyle sweater were dumpy.

I didn't get drawn into debating clothing but I did toss her question around in my head a little. The reality was my suit outfit cost me less than $150 at an S&K Warehouse sale while the jeans, shirt, sweater, belt combo cost more than that. By her standards, I think I gave God my best in the second service ... if clothing has anything at all to do with it.

"Good to see you in a tie," one guy told me before the first service. I asked him why ties were important to him. He linked it to respect. We are good enough friends that I challenged him to do a little tie research in the coming week. Historically ties have been a sign of wealth, power and status. I wonder when they made the leap to being a sign of godliness for so many.

After the second worship service one woman was very upset that one of the guitar players had a tattoo. Her view was that he should have covered it up during the service. I don't even know where to go with that.

Adam and Eve were naked. Then they did what we all do; they went their own way and pushed God's way aside. As soon as they took the bite, the first thing that changed was their attitude about clothing. From fig leaves to togas to suits and ties, it has been a big deal ever since.

No, we can't worship naked. No matter what we wear or do not wear, it will always be an issue to some in this family of ours. I wonder if anyone heard what I said Sunday? I think it was good stuff.

What does God want us to wear? I think it's pretty clear in Colossians 3:12-14

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.(The Message)

When is a gym not a gym?

I don't speak Japanese. I don't speak Spanish. I speak enough French to ask where the library is and to ask someone their name. Je'mapelle Scott? Language is important.

My oldest son is a bio-chemist. He talks about things like amino acids, replication and proteins doing this and that. He's writing a thesis paper and has told me what it's about but I really have no idea what he was talking about.

My youngest son is studying to be a chef. He talks about sauces and cuts and uses a whole set of jargon that I don't understand. When he's talking to other chef types they enjoy the banter but I'm lost.

How much Jesus jargon do we have? How much church jargon?

In our church we have something we call a "Family Life Center." It's a place that has a sweet glass basketball backboard at each end and lines painted into a nice vinyl floor for basketball and for volleyball. We have posts that slide into recessed holes in the floor and then a nice volleyball net stretches across from pole to pole. It's awesome. There are also a couple of basketball backboards mounted to the side wall. It's a "Family Life Center" but it looks exactly like what everyone who is visiting us would call a "gym."

"Join us for coffee in the Family Life Center," we announce to our visitors. But like me listening to my son talking about piepettes I wonder if our visitors say, "Hmmm, I wonder where that is? Is it down near the gym?"

We have a room we call a "parlor" and we have a "chapel" and we have a "sanctuary." We hand out "bulletins." What do you have for jargon? If you were visiting your church and had no idea what was going on, would the language help you or make you feel even more out of place.

If it were up to me, I'd call a gym a gym and replace the signs to the "sanctuary" with signs to the "main auditorium." It might make things sound less spiritual but it would certainly help people find their way around better.

What would you do to make newcomers feel more comfortable?

Buttery fingers can't grasp anything

I give it one thumb up and one thumb down ...

Critics are everywhere. Have you ever noticed that no matter what you do some people are ready to sit back in their chair and give you a free evaluation of everything that is weak or could use improvement? It's like the movie reviewers on television. One guy likes the cinematography but the other guy doesn't like the costumes.

Critics sit there munching on their yellow, buttery popcorn giving their rationale of why things suck so bad. You put your efforts into your story, your event, your plans and they shred it like it's their calling.

I wish continual critics who believe they have a gift of critiquing would announce their intentions before they get hold of my ear. Sometimes I get sucked in pretty deep before I realize, "Woah, wait. This endless barrage is coming from a barrager." (If that's not a word it should be.) They are the machine guns of criticism. Machine guns never really surprise me by the number of bullets they pump out but the barrager gets me off guard pretty often. By the time I recognize their deal, I'm full of holes and bleeding profusely. If I knew their plans and saw them coming I would have taken time to put on a flack jacket.

I remember interacting with Tim at a summer camp. I was speaking and Tim made sure to let me know his every thought of improving the camp. He talked to me about the food, the lights, the band and even the waterfront. He told me what was wrong with the games and told me how he would do things different. He critiqued every service. It wasn't long before I recognized the pattern. I am pretty sure that after Jesus returns, Tim will fold his arms and say, "Yeah, that was good but here's what I would have done ..."

On day three I spotted Tim making his way across the field headed straight for me. When he reached me and started to speak I stopped him and said, "Tim, before you say anything critical I want to hear you tell me two things that you are pumped about." He frowned, folded his arms and walked away. He couldn't do it! It made me sad ... and glad that I didn't have to listen to more complaints.

The rest of the week, each time Tim approached me, I gave him the same request. Each time he walked away silent. In a camp of 300 people where everyone was well fed and safe, where kids where growing in faith, where the worship was sweet and fellowship deep, Tim could find nothing to be excited about. Wow.

What's your deal? Sometimes I slip into the critic role and find myself grading worship services, speakers and music. I critique lighting, costs and settings. During those times, I normally miss the value of whatever it is I am critiquing. I totally miss it.

When I choose the role of critic rather than encourager, servant, participant, worshipper, I am left only with greasy, slimy, cheap butter-coated fingers that can't grip anything.

When I choose to allow a barrager to riddle me with bullets time and again, I cannot help but get discouraged from what the Lord has called me to. We can only bleed for so long.

Psalm 119:36-39
Give me a bent for your words of wisdom, and not for piling up loot. Divert my eyes from toys and trinkets, invigorate me on the pilgrim way. Affirm your promises to me - promises made to all who fear you. Deflect the harsh words of my critics - but what you say is always so good.

Hello CEO - life in the corporate church

Win/Win: Is it possible?

Imagine a system where we dared trust God enough to put the needs of others above our own. Imagine a church where we dared rejoice when others did well rather than choose bitterness and envy.

My dad told me that my being a pastor was payback for all the years he sat on church boards vocally opposing every benefit his pastor might receive. He fought against them having too much vacation, repairs to a parsonage or increases to match cost of living. "I was the guy who made their lives hell and now my son is a pastor."

Dad worked hard to make sure his pastors didn't receive more vacation than he did. He opposed training and conferences because his job didn't allow him additional training. Whatever he was stuck with he made sure his pastor could share his misery.

Ministry is odd. We juggle between idealism and providing for our families. We teach that God will supply all our needs while we pray that our cars will last another thousand miles and school loan payments are deferred again. (I remember those days very well. They were much different than my today.)

I cannot count all the guys I know who could not afford to stay in ministry. The young ministry couples I have counselled over the years who were at each other's throats over financial stresses is disheartening. I bet most of those situations were the result of influential people in congregations who were more concerned with limiting than they were with blessing. Their mindset is, "It's not fair for you to have something I don't have."

During my time in ministry I have heard, "that's not how it works in the corporporate world" too many times. I always am tempted to ask which corporate model the limiter is referring to. Is it Hewlett Packard, a company known for generously taking care of employees or is it AIG? Is it a corporation that dumps faithful employees just a year short of retirement benefits?  No. I think it usually refers to the limiter's own corporate experience.

Do we really want to follow the model of corporate America? Wouldn't we instead want to represent Jesus well since we are His church?

I believe there should be no better place to work than the church of Jesus Christ. If you're hating working for your church it could be time to ask who the CEO is. If you don't see much evidence of the love and care of Christ, He's probably not the CEO.

I was called to work for Jesus, not a corporation.

I can't seem to find God

"Where do you find God?"

Simple question but I had no simple answer. Actually I had no answer. That bugged me. What kind of Christ follower can't even tell you where he finds God?

I've never had God speak to me. He doesn't talk to me. Honestly, I'm glad He doesn't. I'm pretty sure I'll have a heart attack if I wake up to the voice of God. Will He sound like the booming echo in the Ten Commandments or will He have the English accent fresh from Monty Python? Either way I am pretty sure I'd drop dead from fear. I read of a televangelist saying Jesus appears to him while he shaves and they chat it up. If that happens to me I will be unconscious from the moment my forehead bounces off the rim of the toilet on my way to instantly being on my face before God.

Where do I find God since He's not handing me a towel in the morning? My friend's question nagged me for a couple days until the "ah hah!" moment hit.

It's a little bit gross but stick with me. The answer came when I was riding a local trail by the city sewer plant. The stench was as awful as ever from the giant mixers churning the lumpy brown water in huge, outdoor, cement pools. When i was riding past, trying to hold my breath, a bunch of little birds decided to play with me. When I approached them in their spot on the chainlink fence, they darted out in front of me to the berry bushes on the other side of the path. Looking for them I had to also see the view of the Maine coast with a rusty train tressel stretching across the bay.  Not seeing the birds, I started noticing the stench again. Woosh! The birds were back on the fence making a racket. I think they were laughing at me.

A few of them almost hit me when they darted back to the oceanside. The clouds were piled on top of each other like cotton and the water was a vibrant blue. The sewer plant was behind me now.

And that's where it hit me. My friend's question was a mystery to me because I don't have to "find" God at all. Instead I just have to see Him in every setting and every circumstance. He saturates everything.

I think we all tend to focus on the sewage too much. Maybe those birds were laughing at me because I was so busy complaining about how bad things smelled that I was missing God's handiwork. I was missing the mystery of the divine.

Maybe God used those birds to speak to me? Naah, that's crazy talk, right?

"By taking a long and thoughtful look at what God has created, people have always been able to see what their eyes as such can't see: eternal power, for instance, and the mystery of his divine being. So nobody has a good excuse." Romans 1:20, The Message

NYWC Big Room 3 - Donald Miller notes

Donald Miller

STORY
Character who wants someting and overcomes conflict to get it

A sense-making device

The best way to teach Anything is thru narrative. The bible is narrative after narative. Not a point by point formula.

Friend telling fishing story. Wait can I ask you something? What do the fish represent? What do I get out of this story?

What if life isn't meaningless? What if just YOUR life is meaningless?

Good story. Imperfect protaganist is key. Good story requires protaganist sacrificing for benefit of another. Success doesn't matter in life. In good story there is connection with sacrificing character. Character is defined by action. What you want is a maningful story.

Character who does not want something meaningful is not a good story. Donald: What are my goals?

- resource the church to father the fatherless

Scarey. Raises conflict. Triggers emotion. Conflict is the only way character changes - strenghtens, changes, learns.

Act 3 climax. Make conflict seem to go away. Frodo throws the ring into the fire.

God-shaped whole filled by Jesus completes us and is Act 3 climax promises end to conflict? Not true. Not biblical. Conflict remains. Imagine Paul doing info-mmercial???

Act 3 climax takes place at wedding feast of the Lamb in our lives. We are in Act 2 slogging through "naming the animals" like Adam before Eve.

Danish people happiest because they have low expectations - according to 60 minutes.

If we expect conflict we will not be surprised and devestated by it - Act 3 climax comes at the wedding feast of the lamb

By sharing Story, we share life and support. We strenghten. We walk together and navigate conflict of Act 2.

What STORY am I living? Sharing?

Parenting in the Real World

www.realworldparents.com

Listen to the news, read the papers and it's easy to come to the conclusion that the adolescent world is in steady decline. We think that more teens are having sex, more are committing violent crimes, more are committing suicide, more are using drugs, smoking or binge drinking. Right? Wrong, according to Mark Matlock of Real World Parents.

It's no wonder that parents are discouraged! Because media has to sell papers or boost viewership they must provide stories that attract attention. The YOUtube video of teenagers pummeling each other plays at the top of every 15 minute segment. The story of the eighth grader carrying a knife in his backpack is on page one of the local paper while the news of 16 National Merit Scholars is buried on page 5 in 9 point type.

Real World Parents provides a summary of stats showing that while things are bad they are really no worse than they were 30 years ago. That's not great news but at least it is better news than what we perceive to be true.

RWP provides parents with training and resources that help them build stronger families. Visit www.realworldparents.com .

If you are at the NYWC, be sure to look for Mark Matlock and plug into RWP seminars. You'll be glad you did.

Who do you say that I am?

Youth worker, who do you say that I am?

You are Christ, the filler of my weekends.

You are Jesus, compelling me to attend meeting upon meeting.

You are Jesus who keeps me from taking vacations with my family because of the next mission trip, camp or event.

You are the Christ who presses me to get the newsletter done.

You are Jesus who demands the buzzwords of "excellence" and "leadership."

You are Christ who returns me to my home day after day with barely enough energy to find the remote and flop on my couch.

You are Jesus who puts me in positions where parents blame me whenever their kids screw up.

You are the Christ who causes my mind to race from worry to worry each night while sleep evades me.

You are Jesus who keeps me from exercise and play by making me too busy working for you.

You are the Christ who keeps me from deep relationships.

Somehow, somewhere we know these things are not Jesus, but our daily planners reveal our true beliefs.

What does your life say about how you answer Jesus when he asks, "Who do you say that I am?"

Slow down, be quiet and rest with Jesus for your strength.

Shhhhhh...

A trip to the well at NYWC

I've been doing my best sucking this straw with everything I have trying get every last drop from a cup that has not been refilled in a few years. Maybe you know the feeling? The slurping is loud and pretty gross. My cup has been bone dry for awhile.

I've been doing my best to take some drinks here and there. Books. Podcasts. Flipping the pages of my bible echoes my dryness with each crinkle of the paper. But, it's been awhile since I've been able to go to the well.

The National Youth Workers Convention has been a great well for me over these past 25 years in youth work. It has gone through significant changes and, truthfully, I do miss the old days of several hundred of us eating around tables and listening to a couple wild rebels; Wayne Rice and Mike Yaconelli. Yac made me cry year after year. They were soul-watering tears that washed away the negative attitudes and reminded me of my calling to reach teenagers to introduce them to Jesus. I wept when Mike died.

But the Lord was not done with us. In stepped Tic and Marko. They weren't my rabbis like Mike was but they carried a vision for student ministry. The tears revisited each year I saw additional growth and more and more youth workers gathering to drink from the well. Hotel ballrooms were replaced by giant convention centers, multiple cities and more and more resources.

Here I sit at the edge of the well again. Things will begin tomorrow. Tic and Marko are gone and I am an old timer now and won't know many people beyond Duffy, Chap, Tony ... but with me are three guys who work with our students back home. I've brought them to the well and can't wait to see them drink their fill. They'll come back to our room with bags of resources and new excitement for our students. They don't know what this well used to mean to me. It is brand new for them.

Breathe deep ... drink to excess ... return to ministry reminded of who you work for and revell in the fact that He really doesn't care where you parked the church van.

Need to save some money?

Who doesn't? The Elm St. Deli across form the Hyatt has giant salads and good sandwiches that won't sink your budget.

Look for CVS and Walgreens on Race Street at the 6th Street intersection. Water, Soda, snacks.

Dominos delivery - 513-471-3733 says it will deliver to Convention Center area.

Campanello's Italian Restaurant - 414 Central AvenueCincinnati, Ohio 45202 (513) 721-9833 - we ate lunch there and the food was good. Main dishes in the $6-$9 range for lunch. http://www.campanellos.com/

Quiznos, Chik-fil-a, Subway on West 4th Street between Vine and Elm.

I ain't no bible scholar but I do like the author

"I know the Bible and all that it says..."

Wow. Really? That's awesome. I'm far from that.

I read the comment on my iPhone screen in the midst of a couple Christians smacking each other around with the bible on Facebook. One of them is convinced she is voting with God and the other is convinced that she is the one voting with God even though their votes and opinions are opposite on the same issue. One was tossing around words like "judging" and doing the familiar "by voting against this you are judging people" argument. The other was sticking to "sacred" things and speaking for God. Whack! Smack! Bam! Pow! (like the old Batman and Robin series)

I dared venture into the debate on philosophical grounds. Why not take a stab at this "judgment" viewpoint? Does voting against something equal judgement? Are there different levels of judgement? Where are we headed with this topic? If I vote against something does it mean I instantly hate all those who support it?

If it does I must confess that if you use a cellphone when you drive, I hate you. I know you see it as your right and like a New Hampshirite you want to "live free or die" but I just don't want it impacting me. Go ahead, live free, just don't kill me in the process! Yeah, selfish, I know. So, if I can vote that you get a steep fine for blabbing on your phone while driving, I'm gonna do it. Sorry. It's the way I think. I'm a cellphone bigot. I'm also a cellphone hypocrite ... because I have one and have used it while driving. I'm a bigot, hypocrite who is going to vote to pass judgement on you! Eek. Harsh, huh?

Well, the truth is, I can't judge you. I'm not a judge. In fact, my friend who knows the Bible and all it says should know that it says there is only one judge between God and man. We could all get together and vote people outta heaven if that weren't true. We can vote however we want but it doesn't change a thing where "The Judge" is concerned.

We do make numerous judgements every day but they have no impact on Judgement. When we go into the voting booth we make decisions about candidates, taxes, policy and people. We also make judgments about what to eat, where to work out, what to wear and what to watch.

When we judge someone to be a deceived God-hater and bigot because they disagree with us, we cannot disallow them the same right to judge us as God-hating, sinners who have been deceived. Judgement is messy business. Frankly, I'm glad it's not my job.

To be honest, goverments and politics fascinate me. Our American system lets us vote. Most of the world doesn't have that luxury. God is still God regardless of the crazed dictator, the corrupt politician and the religious extremist. In some parts of the world women have to have their faces covered and are forbidden from education. Some parts of the world kill people for sleeping around. Yeah, that's harsh. But, God is still God regardless of what people do.

When I pull the curtain and step into the voting booth, I have judgements to make. Choices. Decisions. Every oval I fill in, if it were to become public knowlege, would make people angry with me. If I vote against healthcare I hate poor people, if I vote for gay marriage I hate Jesus, if I vote against gay marriage I hate gays and Jesus, if I vote for limiting taxes I hate children and our schools. Wow. I'm glad there's a curtain behind me.

I'm not telling you how I am going to vote. If you call my house and take a poll to try to get me to tell you, I promise you only that I am going to make up all kinds of strange answers for you that will make you scratch your head. "So you're a gay, asian, high school dropout making $250,000 a year voting against gay marriage?" Yupp, that's me.

The Bible tells me about this guy named David. The king, an evil guy, wanted him dead and tried to hunt him down. At one point David was cowering in a cave when the king, hot on his trail, came in to relieve himself. While the king was there squatting in the dark, David had the perfect chance to kill him but he didn't. Instead he said, "Who am I to raise a hand against God's annointed (or, the guy God allowed to be in this position)?"

I'll vote doing my best to make what I think is the right choice. I'll do my best to make decisions that are in line what I believe the Bible teaches, if it has anything to say that relates to the question at hand.

But, I confess, even though I am a pastor who has spent my life learning from scripture, I cannot pretend to be like my friend who says she "knows the bible and all it teaches." If I knew it all, I'd have no further use for it. Instead, I still find strength and wisdom for life in its pages every single day.

Regardless of the outcome of any vote I will continue to value people and do my best to show them love by inviting them to follow Christ. Why? I think it's what Jesus would do.

Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" "No one, sir," she said. "Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin." John 8:10-11

My magic discipleship wand is broken ...

You've seen the bulletin announcements. They go like this, "Sign up for our exciting discipleship classes today at the information center in the foyer." Hmmm ...

Discipleship classes? I almost think that's almost an oxymoron. Classes, in the form we are all used to, spoon out information. I've taken plenty of classes in my life. Most of them consisted of someone lecturing while I scribbled notes to prepare to pass a test. I've taken online classes, college classes, DVD classes and some hands-on classes. Most of them have been pretty helpful. Some have been as painful as eating glass. I remember felt-covered boards in Sunday school classes long ago and getting yelled at for turning a fair-skinned, glowing Jesus upside down like he was standing on his head on the water instead of walking on it. I thought it was funny but my teacher thought it was blasphemous and she let me know. At length. Loudly.

But then there's this word "discipleship." A disciple is more than a learner. A disciple is a follower who puts teachings into practice. It is a relationship-based term. When you read scripture you quickly see that Jesus' disciples were not copious note-takers stressing about upcoming exams. They wanted to know Jesus, not just know about Him.

If you've been going to church for a long time, I bet you know a lot about Jesus. I bet you excel in bible trivia games and always get the bible questions right when you watch jeopardy. Me too. It feels pretty good. That is, it feels good until someone else knows the name of the high priest servant who got his ear sliced off in the garden and I don't. Man, then I feel like a loser when my Christian friends give me that down-the-nose look that says, "you should know that!" (It's Malchus, by the way.)

Classes are good. Bible study is good. But, apart from relationship and sharing life with others, we risk missing the point of what Jesus came to say. Boiled down to its very simplest form - God loves us, God gave us Jesus, we trust and we get a whole new view of what life is meant to be. It's called "Good News." A new beginning. Life.

This path of following Jesus is not meant to be walked alone. I dare you to plug in with a group of Christ-followers who are more concerned with becoming like Jesus than they are with filling in all the blanks in their workbooks.

Get together outside of Sunday service, eat, laugh loud, praise, worship, enjoy the kids, relax and talk about what God is doing. Share life. Share resources. Share struggles and pray. Do it and I bet the same thing will happen as happened in Acts 2:46-47 - people will like what they see and people will be changed.

Discipleship takes time. There's no magic wand that will speed up the process. If there is, it's broken.

It's the people, stupid!

In 1992, as Bill Clinton campaigned for the presidency, his focus statement was drilled into the staff members at every campaign office to ensure that everyone stayed on target; “It’s the economy, stupid.”

In ministry we would do well to hang a similar banner on the wall of every church office. Our biblical message should remind each of us that “it’s the people, stupid!” Unfortunately that message is often pushed out by long task lists, conflicts, endless meetings and the demands of facilities. More and more pastors are adopting a CEO model of leadership to accomplish their goals and meet their increasing responsibilities while people move in and out of their churches without making meaningful, discipling relationships.

I don't like the terminology of leadership books that label people as “assets.” I get the point but it just seems like friends we love change into something else when we see them as assets that help us meet our goals. It's impersonal.

Several years ago a local celebrity in our area came through the front doors of our church. On Monday morning every person in the outer office mentioned his presence to me before I reached my office. At staff meeting the senior pastor talked of what a great thing it would be for the church if we could get he and his family plugged in. The next night he was mentioned at the deacons’ meeting. He was a definite “asset” as a public figure. The other 6 visitors we had that same morning were never even mentioned. They got the standard welcome letter and information packet in the mail that week. Our TV celebrity stayed two or three weeks and then left as quickly as he came. We later found out that he went to every local church and attended a few weeks to connect with his audience. Our attenders were his assets.

Jesus paints a clear picture of interacting with people. We should value them, commit to them, model integrity and honesty and invite them to follow Jesus with us.

I love the people on my team. People never care how much I know unless they know how much I care. After they have gone through some leadership orientation sessions, completed the church-required paperwork and begin getting involved, I love developing relationships with each of them. It's a challenge with 35 people. I only wish I could dedicate more of my time to being with them. But you know how it goes ... there's a meeting at 3:00 to choose the color of the new chairs and I've got to be there.

Who do you have on your "team?" Each of them, like you and me, love encouragement and praise. Little things like text messages asking how they are or telling them you prayed for them today go a long way. Sharing meals together, watching ballgames, having family game nights all help us truly connect.

A group of us just returned from our annual retreat where we do nothing but play and pray in a gorgeous Maine foliage setting. It is a weekend of rest, playing golf, breaking bread and building relationships. The spontaneous conversations we have are always much more on target than the planned sessions that consume our other meetings. We lean on each other, guide each other, speak truth and share what God is teaching us. It's my favorite weekend of the year.

I don't have "assets" but I am sharpened and refreshed by a group of partners in the gospel (Phil. 1). We know we can share our weaknesses as easily as our strengths. We value each other and are open to creative new ideas because we continuously reevaluate and put sacred cows to death. We support each other knowing we are safe and loved. We share in ministry together. We're friends.

And the cool thing is, each of these friends of mine are taking what we do together and putting it into action with groups of their own. That's multiplication.

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." - Jesus, John 15:15

The Holy Spirit Procrastinates?

I'm confused again. Yeah, I know that it happens a lot. Here's the deal today...

I've got some "spirit-filled" friends. They call themselves that anyway. It's usually said with a hint of "we-got-something-you-don't" tone that makes it clear that I've not arrived. I'm just a little bit short of them. I'm like the kid in the remedial reading group in elementary school; I think I read fine but all the other kids smirk that I'm not on the same books as they are. I don't care for it.

But that's another topic for another day. Today's confusion is the result of my "spirit-led" brothers operating in what I call "wing-it mode." They are allergic to planning and preparation and lean heavily on doing whatever the Spirit leads them to do. Um, okay.

I wonder why the Spirit can't show up in the planning process. Can't he help us put messages together or design programs? My wing-it friends don't seem to think so. They accuse me of being controlling and not open to the Spirit's leading.

My experience has put me right in the middle of some weird stuff. Once the Spirit led the pastor to stop in his sermon and tell the crowd, "God wants to heal someone of a pain in their wrist today." Hmmm

I saw another occassion when a guy told his congregation they were not worthy of receiving communion. Then there are the times when I've seen guys toss their notes aside to preach a message that God just gave them at the last minute. Those messages, in my experience, were all scattered, disjointed and tough to follow.

At one service I attended, a man stood up and announced that he had a message from the Lord. He went on a verbal rant about women until the pastor stopped him after several minutes. Weird.

I'm pretty sure that the Holy Spirit can and does show up in planning. I think the "Spirit-led" mentality is often an excuse for laziness.

I'm polluted

It's late ... or early. It all depends on your perspective I suppose. For me, it's very late. I've normally been asleep for about 2 and a half hours by now. Not tonight. Stuffy nose. Scratchy throat. Pesky cough. Some little bug found its way into my body and is now having a party making more and more bug buddies. Like upstairs neighbors hootin' and hollerin' with the resounding thump of hip-hoppery, this little virus that moved into my sinuses sometime around Wednesday and is keeping me from sleep.

I ain't no high-falutin' scientist or biology guy, but from what I understand, some germ is now waging war with my imune system. It's something about cell division and white blood cells and ... blah, blah, blah. I'm simple. I understand it like Alien. My body, the ship, has been invaded by outsiders who want to take it down. So, the crew is running around like crazy, screaming and yelling and firing their lazers at the pests. No wonder my head aches ... it's all that yelling and it's the lazers bouncing off the walls of my sinuses. When the good guys hit the bad guys the bad guys go down in explosions and bursts of flame. Yeah, that's exactly what's going on. Darn pollutants.

Pollutants ruin things. It seems like a simple concept to grasp. You aren't going to pull up to a bar and say, "Pollutants. Shaken, not stirred." And I bet that you wouldn't reach into the cooler at the grocery store avoiding pure spring water for the gray tinted water advertising, "Now with 20% more pollutants."

Okay, here's the pitch, the skinny, the lowdown, the point ...

There was this guy named James who lived about 2000 years ago. His brother was a big deal. He hung out with him a lot; they were very close. James was into the same stuff his brother was. In fact his brother gave him purpose and changed his life. His brother was Jesus.

If you don't really know much of Jesus outside of the freak show you've seen while flipping through cable stations, you will probably be surprised by reading about his life in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I like His style. He had a lot to say about organized religion and what God is really like.

Jesus brought an entirely new paradigm onto the scene. He pointed out God's love, His heart and His motivation. He welcomed the poor in spirit and loved people that society didn't love. He changed their lives and invited them to trust His father who really was for them.

Society thought one way and Jesus offered another. It was entirely different from what the guys in the fancy robes where demanding allegiance to. It was a different mindset - one that said, "Hey, God is for you regardless of who you are or what you've done."

There have always been a lot of things that have polluted that message and complicated it. Some pollutants have obscured it totally and kept people from seeing God's heart. James recognized that tons of things get in the way so he summed up the message of his brother again:

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27

The germs, the pollutants, I have partying in my body right now are robbing my energy and keeping me from health. The pollutants James talks about party it up and keep us from recognizing God and his heart. They drag us down and take us out. They make us lose sight of the fact that God is for us.

God is for you.

Hey girly butt! I hope you run over a nail!

I think we've complicated things. Like the woman who packs 4 bags for a 5 day trip, we've added too much and made this too heavy to carry. She packs open-toed shoes, heels, walking shoes, flip-flops, running shoes and several colors to match a variety of outfits. She loads in a few outfits for warm days, cool days and cold days. There are casual clothes, lounging clothes, business casual and dressy outfits. It's all good stuff but it just doesn't fit in the car. She can't carry it. You can't carry it. Bellmen, cab drivers and baggage handlers give a groan when they see it coming. It's just not necessary.

I think we've made the message of Christ too heavy to handle. We've taken it from simple to complex. It just doesn't look to me like what Jesus intended when he said, "Come to me if you're tired and weighed down and I will give you rest. Be about what I am about; I'm not going to go all crazy on you. I'm not about weighing you down." (Mt. 11:28-30)

Maybe I'm simple-minded but when I read John 3:16-17, I see that God loved, God gave and we believe and it's a done deal. I see that Jesus didn't come because he's ticked off and wants to point out how screwed up we are. He didn't come to condemn but to rescue and give hope. (Listen to Andy Stanley: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/npm/~3/8DV1ypJml1E/part5.mp3 )

Can faith in Christ really be that simple? Yeah, it can.

But we keep adding things to the salvation bag. It works like this, "Saved people don't ________. Saved people do ____________." I bet you can fill in the blanks. There are a ton of things we add while claiming that we really do believe that you can't earn salvation.

Saved people don't drink, they don't cuss, they don't look at porn on their computers, they don't laugh at dirty jokes, they don't fight with their spouses, they don't listen to pop music. Saved people are regular attenders at church, they give 10 percent of their income, vote republican ...

The atmosphere we create demands that people hide their struggles or risk looking like they are not "saved." I've spent the last 25 years working with teenagers in local churches. I think their biggest frustration is that their individual families at church are nothing like the families they are outside. They just don't get it. They hate the act. They know life is messy.

"I was so tired of reading religious books and hearing religious speakers tell me how perfect they were, and I would end up hearing a sermon or reading a book or going to some religious meeting, and at the end of the meeting I felt worse than when I got there because they had it all together." Mike Yaconelli on his book Messy Sprituality.

Me too, Mike. Me too.

I was riding my bike about a week ago trying to drop more pounds off this 270 pound mass. I was feeling good about myself. Hey, when I started riding in May I could barely handle riding a mile. Now I'm up to 60-70 miles a week. I was pumping up a hill wearing my bright crossing guard style yellow vest and my sporty helmet thinking, "Okay, I got this." I felt pretty pumped and hopeful. Then I heard, "Coming on your left!" Like I was not moving, this tights-wearing guy with his fancy clip-in shoes, bright Corona biking shirt, sleek helmet with little mirror thingy attached to the side went flying by me."

I think if there had been a pub at the top of that hill I might have pulled in, tossed my helmet in the trash and ordered a Corona and the largest order of breaded hot wings or cheese fries they had on the menu. This guy with his little girly butt flying by me made me forget my progress and hope and trade it in for total discouragment.

Is that what we do to people in church? By adding so many conditions to the rescue Jesus brought, have we made the good news just too heavy and too complicated to handle? Do we lighten the load and encourage or do we present a false reality of perfection that discourages? By pretended that no one struggles do we miss the opportunity to help each other overcome the hills we face?

God loved. God gave. When we believe we receive. That's it. That's all. It's good news.

Some days I want to be a mail carrier

I rarely know what my day will look like when I roll out of bed. Some days I think being an accountant, a tolltaker, an umpire, mail carrier or bagger would be better. But then again, I bet they get bored with routine.

I had four notable interactions Wednesday:

Interaction #1:
I spoke with Jim by phone. He started off telling me that he had just prayed to Satan and that I had a chance to make it so he wouldn't do it again. All I needed to do was pay a bill for him and that would prove to him that God was real. If I didn't, he was heading back to chat it up some more with the Prince of Darkness and make a deal with him. Jim was clearly desperate. He had run out of options and was willing to "sell his soul" for a couple hundred dollars. I wasn't really sure what to do for Jim. I told him that from what I know about Satan is that he would be glad to make a deal. And what I know of God is that He's not into making deals; He's into giving gifts. Jim had to run so our conversation got cut short. It was a strange call.

Interaction #2:
"How do you get someone to see that what she perceives as her strengths are really her largest weaknesses?" The topic was leadership. Her boss had been treating her with no respect and simply using her as an employee. I had no answers.

Interaction #3:
"The pastor's daughter got pregnant and had an abortion. He's being told to resign and leave quietly because of it." Woah! What? I felt myself getting angry at yet another church that was about to spit out their pastor and his family because they didn't measure up. The young pastor on the phone was looking to me, a mentor, for guidance. Initially he was angry that the church was not being told why. He was leaning toward the judgmental side saying, "How can he just get away with this and go to another church without them knowing about him?" My heart broke for this pastor and ached for his daughter who undoubtedly was bearing the weight of her dad getting fired in addition to the scars she already wore. "Is anyone talking about Jesus in this mess?" My question set my young friend on his heels. "Is anyone talking about forgiveness and loving this family; this girl?" No, they were too busy swinging their selfrighteous swords. Why is it, in the Christian faith, we tend to shoot our wounded?

Interation #4:
I spent about an hour online talking to a man I had had as a student about 20 years ago. It was nice to reconnect. After talking about sports, weather, jobs and all the regular topics I dropped the bomb. "What do you think about church? Do you go anymore?" He had brought up the topic by talking about my current ministry and reminiscing about the youth program he was in. I stared at the screen. Nothing. I worked to soften the blow by telling him about my coursework and my study of why people give up on church and asked for his opinion. His story was familiar. He had no interest in a religious code and was tired of not being accepted in churches unless he "played the game." I thanked him, apologized for the games and reminded him that Jesus was more interested in a relationship with him than he was of taking attendance at religious services. I hope we will talk again soon.

I listened to Perry Noble by podcast yesterday as I rode my bike. His challenge to pray, "Lord, make us dangerous," struck a chord with me. When I am more passionate about Jesus than I am about church systems, I begin to discover what it means to be the church of Jesus Christ.

Yellow-haired monkeys in the yard

What am I leading people to? Am I leading people into programs at the expense of relationship? I wonder.

Some programs are cool. I like the ones that invite me in as a participant. I'm not too crazy about the ones that invite me in to sit on my butt and watch. I get antsy.

I confess that if you tell me the Next Big Thing is coming to town and I can go listen to him for several hours, I'm probably going to try to think of something else to do. It's weird. I'll read the Next Big Thing's book and I might even watch his sweet new high def DVD but I don't really get jazzed to go somewhere to sit around. Unless I can go with you.

You can tell me you scored some free tickets to the Patriots game and I'll be pumped about going with you. But give me one ticket so I can go alone? I'm going to skip the live experience and fall asleep on my couch while I watch it on TV. World series alone? Nah. With you? Definitely!

I like some alone time to recharge but too much alone time and I get lonely fast. I like the word "with." I had some alone time in Phoenix a couple weeks ago. I wandered around a little and snapped some pictures but I would have rather been with my wife or with my kids or with my family.

Invite me to live life with you and I'm pumped. Invite me to hear the Next Big Thing tell me how to live? Not so much. I think there are programs that promote crowds of individuals coming alone, listening alone and then leaving alone. You listen. I talk. You leave.

I think Jesus is about "with." As a leader I want to lead people, or walk with people, to discover life with Jesus.

If it were up to me, I'd vote for skipping the Next Big Thing Ministries program to hang out with you and the people you love. We can grill some sausage, snack on fresh watermelon and share life hanging out with Jesus. Let's let the yellow-haired monkeys laugh and run under the hose while we break bread together.

I wish I could recognize His hands

(written 8/17/09)
I tried feeding some sparrows today. In the midday Phoenix heat of 106 degrees, I sat at a downtown outdoor table eating a Cold Stone Creamery waffle cone. A nearby sparrow caught my eye. He had his beak open and was panting to cool himself. I snapped off a tiny piece of my waffle cone and tossed it in his direction. He quickly hopped over and scooped it up and flew into a nearby tree.

It was maybe 5 seconds later when he returned with three friends all carefully eyeing me with beaks open for panting. They were maybe 8 feet away from me. I wondered how their friend had communicated with them to bring them my way. If it had been me I probably would have tried to keep my relationship a secret. Having received such a small crumb, I doubt I would immediately invite friends to join me in a second attempt.

I broke off a few more pieces and tossed them toward the sparrows. Cautiously, they hopped forward to get their morsels. They kept a nervous eye on me the whole time. I felt a strange sort of compassion for them. They all looked so hot with beaks open panting continuously. I tossed some more crumbs their way but only 5 feet from me. I wanted them to come closer.

Their stress level went up. Some hopped back and forth not daring to come so close to me. Finally one of them risked it and hopped closer for another crumb. When he made his move the others followed. I wanted to bring them even closer. I wanted them to eat at my table. Maybe even eat from my hand.

I could not get them to come closer than maybe 4 feet away. I spent 30 minutes trying. I fed them time after time hoping to build their trust but they just would not come closer. Their lack of trust was frustrating. Why wouldn’t they trust me? Hadn’t I proved myself faithful? Why couldn’t they sense that my only goal was to develop a relationship with them and feed them?
Experience must have taught them to be cautious. Maybe they had learned that you don’t get anything free. Maybe they figured I was trying to lure them in and trap them. Maybe they trusted before and got hurt.

I think that’s how some of us approach God. I’ve been hurt by men flinging tasty crumbs and claiming to represent God. Now, I flit about nervously getting close enough to eat the crumbs while wondering if they come with strings attached.

My desire is jump confidently into the hands of my God to eat without worry. I just wish I was better at recognizing His hands.

Over light with two pieces of wheat toast

I have breakfast with my friend Stan most Wednesday mornings at Kathy and Dave’s diner. I normally get a bowl of oatmeal and a grilled muffin while Stan orders two eggs “over light” and wheat toast. We’re an odd pair, Stan and I. Stan is a tall weathered veteran of World War II and the Korean War. He walks with a cane and has wirey white eyebrows and hairs growing from his ears. I, by contrast, have fought no wars and am 40 years younger. Random hairs have just started sprouting … it’s a new and disturbing facet of my life.

We sit at the same table every week. Kathy knows our orders before we give them. In fact, Stan just laughs and smiles at her with a shrug and says, “the usual.” Stan bows his head every week and thanks the Lord for our food and our time together. He never asks me to pray. With me being a professional prayer, a pastor, I love that Stan just prays and that he always prays for me.

For two years I listened to Stan tell me about his precious Carol and the life they built together. For two years I had no answer when he would ask me why the Lord would not just take his wife home. Every day Stan would arrive at the nursing at 3 pm to feed his bride. With a tear in his eye he would tell me, “she doesn’t even know who I am.” Still, he went. The staff at the nursing home told him that Carol would refuse to eat anything until Stan arrived. Somehow she knew.

Carol finally went to be with Jesus just a few months ago. When Stan and I had breakfast the week after her funeral, he had a noticeable joy about him. When I asked him how he was he looked me straight in the eye with a smile that surprised me. “The next time I see Carol, she’ll know who I am.”

Indeed she will … and she’ll know how he likes his eggs – over light with two pieces of wheat toast.

My Daily Bread is a bit moldy

I've heard my share of plugs for the latest "devotional." I've heard speakers tell me that true followers of Jesus spend an hour in prayer every day. Some have said, "if you are not spending quality time in the Word every day, you cannot be growing." Still others have said things like, "the secret to my marriage is that we pray together every day." Most of them have just left me feeling guilty, inadequate or a bit off in my faith life.

I've had times when each of those things were part of my routine. I've had times when none of them were present. Christians like to call stretches of time "seasons." So, I've had seasons.

To be honest, when I hear a speaker tell me about his "daily, personal, quiet time" I wonder if he's telling the truth. I think, "Man, is anyone really like that?" Because I'm not, I assume no one is.

Saturday morning, while preparing for speaking Sunday morning, I put my earbuds in and hit the road on my hybrid bike. It was sunny and maybe 75 degrees. As I rode, God refreshed my soul. Sometimes I sang along, sometimes I prayed and sometimes I just took in the scenery rolling by. The stress I felt was swallowed up in an exercise adrenaline rush. It was a sweet quiet time despite not fitting into any of the formulas.

Some of my best quiet times of connecting with God have come on my bike or during a walk with camera gear on my back. I've had times I've listened to Scripture readings on my iPOD, times when I allow my mind to drift here and there and times of simple prayer. At other times I have been silent and refreshed.

I'm all for "My Daily Bread" and other devotional materials. They just don't work for me. I'm finally learning, in this relationship with Jesus, that that's okay with Him.

Doug likes green eggs and ham

My four-year-old friend Elizabeth and I recently came to a conclusion. "Bizzle" (as I call her) and I were reading through the classic Dr. Seuss tale of the critter who had never tried green eggs and ham much to the dismay of a much smaller "Sam-I-Am." We noticed that while "Sam-I-Am" was identified on most every page, the green egg hating, furry thing had no name. We paused and I asked, "Hey, what is this guy's name?" Eliza-Bizzle just shrugged. The thought had never crossed her mind. I suggested we call him "Doug" and we continued reading.

I wonder how many people walk namelessly in and out of our lives every day? They take our food orders, collect our tolls and deliver our pizzas. We might give them pseudo names based on what they do ... toll guy, pizza man and paper boy ... but we rarely think of them as people with names.

I remember a woman who walked all over our town talking to herself. She would have animated conversations with invisible people. Everyone knew her as "Crazy Mary." Then there's "Stinky Pete." He wears a wool hat all summer and rides an old bike loaded down with returnable bottles and cans he has dug out of trash barrels. "Fast Eddy" looks to be about 85. He walks up and down the same street all day long at a snail's pace wearing a woman's leather coat. At least he used to walk. I haven't seen Fast Eddy in quite some time.

Like our "Doug" none of these people have names known to me. They are just part of my daily story; part of the supporting cast.

Last week I took an afternoon and headed for our local park with a few Arby's roast beef sandwiches in a sack. My goal was simple. I wanted to find a park bench, share some lunch and hear the story of one of the homeless guys who sleep on the grass. I sat next to a weathered man who was doing his best to get every last bit of taste out of his cigarette. The ash was down to the filter.

He didn't want a sandwich at first so I just asked him where he was from. We talked about the weather. He complained about the seagulls and we laughed a little. As I crumpled up my wrapper and got ready to leave, I extended my hand and said, "My name's Scott, what's your name?" He looked puzzled for a second and then shook my hand with, "I'm Roger." I told him I had enjoyed talking with him and then asked, "You sure you don't want one of these sandwiches, Roger? I don't need the extra calories." He nodded and laughed and told me I was definitely a "big boy" and then took a sandwich.

Elizabeth and I now routinely notice "Doug" when we read Green Eggs and Ham. And now I find myself looking for Roger each time I drive by Deering Oaks Park. Names are important. That's why Jesus calls us by name.

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. John 10:3

Fasting from church music

When the music fades
All is stripped away
And I simply come ...
(Matt Redman)

I love music. I wonder if I love it too much? Like St. Augustine in chapter 10 of Confessions, I have a tendency to get wrapped up in the artist, the vocalist, the compilation and the performance. I begin to think, "Wow, these guys are really good," or "I love this song!" Augustine wrote,"I fluctuate between the danger of pleasure and the experience of the beneficent effect...."

The danger of pleasure is that it is self-focused. We can become so focused on seeking the experience, the pleasure, that we miss God Himself. When Redman's pastor, Mike Pilavachi, saw this problem in their church in Waterford, England he literally pulled the plug. The church removed the sound system, packed the instruments away and song leaders took a seat with everyone else. Redman penned "The Heart of Worship" as instruments and PA were reintroduced six months later. "I'll bring you more than a song, for a song in itself, is not what you have required ... I'm coming back the the heart of worship ... it's all about you, Jesus."

I have friends who are worship leaders. I love these guys. I know their hearts. I know they want to point people to Jesus and see their music serve as a bridge connecting people with the heart of God. I appreciate their humility and their desire to be real. I also know what a struggle it is for them when sound equipment malfunctions or things do not go as planned. I know their desire for excellence. But, if I could give them a gift, I would give them freedom to grasp that the Lord is more concerned with their desire to make a joyful noise rather than a perfect noise. I would invite them to unwrap the truth that the Holy Spirit will take their offering and do His job. All they need do is lay it on the table, give it to Jesus and walk away.

I have never been much of a fan of Chris Tomlin's music. I mean, it's good but it wasn't on my iPOD. Then I attended one of his concerts at a sumer festival. Chris led a crowd of 10,000 or so people in worship music. I was a surprised worshipper having expected just another show. Chris became invisible. The Lord moved me to tears. I went from singing loudly to not being able to sing at all. Chris is now on my iPOD. Each time I listen I am not transported back to thinking about what a talented musician he is. I am brought to worship.

Lately I've become a music critic. Regardless of the format, traditional or contemporary, I have fallen into evaluating the performance, the sound, the song selection and the delivery. I even notice the font size and backgrounds used in Powerpoint slides. But, I don't notice Jesus. To be clear, this is entirely MY issue and not a representation of the leaders or participants. It is my heart issue. I am distracted.

This morning I decided to fast for a bit. I am fasting from music. It was strange showing up halfway through the service but I adjusted. My first impression was that I was better focused and enjoyed paging through Scripture on my Blackberry.

Shalom

Shalom. A greeting but more. More than hello. More than goodbye.

Shalom. Peace in the complete security of God who holds everything.
Shalom. It is a well-wish that says, "May you live in the complete, consistent, grace-filled reality of Yaweh.

The world is anti-peace. Jesus Christ is peace. In fact, Jesus tells us that He brings us perfect peace. Being such a stranger to His holiness, I wonder what "perfect peace" looks like.

I think some of us attach peace to a setting. Some say peace is attached to sitting by a lake at sunset. Or peace is watching a sleeping infant. Or peace is the emotion that comes when Christ followers join together in singing.

But, is peace an emotion? If I feel it, I've got it? I think it's more than that.

Where legalism begins, grace ends. Where grace ends, peace ends.
Peace is a faith-filled confidence in who God is. It is complete. In the face of struggle it is calm and assured. It is based in trust. It is the fruit of relationship with God that teaches us that He is for us. He is fond of us.

When we say, "Shalom" we say, "May you know the peace of the completing love of God."

I wonder what anti-peace principles I have promoted in ministry.

If your peace has been undermined by me, my demands, please forgive me.

I am learning peace for myself. I wish I learned it sooner.

I don't like altar calls. Does that make me bad?

Get out your sharpened number two pencils, it's time for a short quiz.

1) The customary altar call familiar to evangelical churches first appeared
a.) In the last 200 years
b.) When Noah's ark came to rest on dry ground
c.) When a song leader stroked and kept repeating "we're gonna sing just one more chorus."

The altar call came onto the scene around 1820. Somehow since then it has been elevated to a required God thing. If you don't do it you must certainly be ashamed of the gospel and ashamed of God. As a pastor, other pastors say you've watered down biblical teaching and are a liberal. In Pastor World those are major slams.

Okay, I'll just come out and say it. I don't like altar calls.

Why not? Most of the altar calls I see border more on manipulation than they do a move of the Holy Spirit. I see some different styles.

1) Work 'em up. This one is a favorite in youth camps. The key is to stir the emotions and work the people into a frenzy. Get a few teenage girls crying and you are guaranteed results. Please don't misunderstand me. Spontaneous tears happen but when we set out to trigger the tears, we manipulate. I remember a youth setting where an adult wept while introducing a drama I had seen before. The adult went on at length talking through tears about how emotional the drama was calling it "powerful." Numerous teens in the audience were crying before it even started. As the actors came out one by one with poster boards explaining a painful time on side one and then flipped it to reveal how God blessed brought victory, the weeping became louder and louder. The kids in the performance clung tightly to each other weeping outside the auditorium. It was a mess. The interesting thing to me was that I had seen the same skit performed at other conferences with an entirely different spin. The kids were pumped and excited about sharing God's victory over trials. In the other settings the performers brought the audience to applause. The only difference was the introduction.

2) Make 'em doubt. If you have been around evangelical churches for any length of time you have probably run into this one. The evangelist works hard to precede his call to commitment by getting his audience to question if they are truly saved. "If you were to die right this minute, are you 100% sure you would go to heaven?!?!" he booms. "Do you know the day when you came to Christ? If not, how can you be sure you are saved?" I've followed Jesus for 30 years and these guys can get me wondering.

3) Sneak 'em in. "With every head bowed and every eye closed, if you want to accept Jesus would you just raise your hand right now?" This one always puzzles me. First, I want to know why they have to raise their hands if not to give validation to the speaker? Can't they just pray right where they are without the hand in the air thing? The second thing I can't figure out is why we would call people to hide their decision from anyone else. It just doesn't make sense to me. I can't picture Jesus telling His disciples in a whisper, "Hey, follow me. No one will know. No one's looking."

4) Lie a little. I've heard the rationale for this but it just doesn't add up for me. I remember being trained as a counselor for an evangelist rolling through town. We were to come to the front immediately when he gave the invitation. As others saw us coming they would be more likely to say, "Hey, look at all those people going forward. I'm going to do it too." It seemed deceptive to me. The other one goes along with #3 above. I'm bad. I tend to keep looking around even when a speaker tells me to bow my head and close my eyes. The guys who start counting hands baffle me because I just don't count the same way. They are up to 12 or 15 and I've only seen one. "Yes, I see that hand. Yes, young man, thank you. Yes, there's another." I asked a guy at a coffee house about his count one time and after he cooled down he told me he just does it to encourage other people to put their hands up too. He does it so they don't think they are alone. Hmmm ...

5) Scare them. Skip abundant life with Jesus and go straight to telling them that they are going to die on their way home. Make it clear that they could get hit by a bus, have a heart attack or brain aneurysm or get shot. It's true, they might not make it another day. Without faith in Christ the bible tells us we will spend eternity in hell. But why do we abandon the prospect of a relationship with God right here on earth so quickly? I remember being at an all-night youth event when the speaker scolded some guys who were goofing around and not paying attention. He told them that he spoke at an event just like this one the year before and some kids were laughing like they were. Then he dropped the bomb on them telling them those kids' bus crashed on the way home and several died without knowing Jesus. They sat up and paid attention. Me? I didn't believe him. I had heard nothing of this bus crash and found no trace of it on the Internet. Bus crashes where kids die make the news. Maybe they missed this one.

6) Attract a crowd. The speaker starts off inviting people who don't know Jesus to come forward. Then he expands that to include people who want to recommit their lives to him. Next, he invites people who need prayer about anything. Then it's the "fresh touch." Then he moves to people who want someone to pray with them for someone else. Before you know it, it's down to, "If you're breathing, come forward." Well, at least it seems that way.

I'm curious about the whole "come forward" thing. I know that there are times in church history when it was about logistics and giving people a place to meet for prayer or to talk further. But over the last two hundred years it appears that some sort of power is associated with "coming to the altar."

I know there are lots of evangelists who don't manipulate and I know there are many who decided to trust Christ by going forward at an invitation. I'm among them. I'm also sure that I would have committed to follow Him right where I sat, if that had been the invitation.

The other problem I have with altar calls is that I think they convince the average believer that she can't introduce a friend to Christ. For many, evangelism has become the act of inviting someone to attend a special presentation rather than a process of loving, serving sharing life with epeople who don't know Christ.

For me, the potential value in going to the front is the opportunity to help connect someone who wants to follow Christ with someone who says, "I will be your friend and help you build your relationship with Him."

Evangelism is the act of one hungry beggar showing another where he found bread. (paraphrasing N.T. Niles)

My label is smudged

What am I? Am I "emergent?" A "re-envisionist?" I know that I am not a traditionalist though I do hold to a number of traditions. Where's my T.U.L.I.P. school of thought? Am I Augustinian? Reformed?

As I surf from blog to blog I see so many people in search of labels. Like the label on a soup can, we're looking for labels that will help us decide either to buy in or to put people back on the shelf. Take 'em or toss 'em, that's the goal.

A couple years back I had a parent pull her kids from our youth programs because we were using Rob Bell's Nooma videos to spark discussion. This mom had read about Rob's label on some website and decided he was a heretic endangering the spiritual well-being of her kids. Really? Yeah, really.

We have a group of students in Romania right now. Reading their blog posts I see that they are blown away by a couple of very significant differences from here at home. First, they are amazed at how kind the people are. People welcome them into their homes, smile and bring piles and piles of food to their guests even though they have limited resources. Second, when they walked into a local orphanage children immediately grabbed their hands and wrapped their arms tightly around their necks. No one cares about their labels - they just accept them and love them. When they returned to the orphanage the next night the kids ran to the cars to meet them with outstretched arms. They carried drawings and treasures for their new friends. They called them by name.

Our team is humbled by how much the people value them. The love of the locals is shaking them to the core. There is no care of the labels of Baptist or Orthodox - just acceptance.

From what I can see, the church of Jesus Christ is in a constant state of emergence. It is a living, breathing organism that responds to people. Its heart is rescue in Jesus Christ alone. Its character is Grace. Its conviction is that sin is a poison that destroys life. Its purpose is in loving and building people. It is the body of Christ.

Followers of Jesus entrenched in unchanging, dogmatic, legalistic systems that do not bring freedom find themselves having exchanged an external focus for an internal, self-preservationist one. And still, Jesus loves.

Big-tent followers who have dismissed the deity of Jesus Christ in the name of becoming a great "One," have torn out the heart of the gospel. And still, Jesus loves.

Followers who have dismissed sin and the destruction it brings for more comfortable messages have forgotten the loving purpose of God in defining sin. They have removed the warning labels on the poison bottles and placed them on the shelves next to the soda. And still, Jesus loves.

What am I? Emergent? Traditionalist? Modern? Postmodern? I feel like a pot of stone soup, of late. It seems everyone has something to throw in my pot. Some of it looks great while other things are falling apart and have a rotten stench.

That woman is looking at me with her one eyebrow hiked a bit higher than the other. I can see that she's trying to read my label. It's smudged and she's not getting a good enough look to decide if I am worthy of interaction.

I like it that way.

That's an ugly baby!

We've all been in the same awkward position. Someone hands us a picture of a baby or holds out their little bundle of joy and says, "Isn't she the cutest baby you've ever seen?" It's one of those times when we all lie rather than give our true opinion. Their little bundle of joy looks like a cross between some alien species, an old man and a prune. You're thinking, "when she was born, the doctor most likely slapped her mother."

I always wonder if the parents are deluded or if they truly think their little critter is cute. Maybe they are just playing a joke on us? The best man in my wedding used to carry a picture of an ugly girl in his wallet to pull out whenever people would ask about his girlfriend. He loved to watch their reaction. Is that it?

My three kids were all very cute babies. At least, I think they were. They certainly were adorable to me. But how do I know they weren't "breath-taking" like the baby on Seinfeld? Nah ... they were definitely cute.

It has to be the love that parents have for their kids that make them so beautiful in their eyes. The perspective of the viewer is what brings beauty.

That has to be what's at work when Jesus looks at the church and sees it as a beautiful bride. It's His love that makes the church beautiful to Him. He sees it as precious.

I look at the church, myself, my friends and see all the imperfections. I see the squabbles, the insecurity, the legalism and selfishness and think, "Ick. We're a mess!" But, because of God's Grace, He looks at the same picture and smiles and His heart explodes with fondness.

I see the church fighting about being emergent, conservative, fundamental or liberal and wonder what we're doing. We fight about when Jesus is going to return (even though he told us no one knows when). We fight about speaking in tongues and being "spirit-filled." We fight about music, what version of the bible is acceptable, predestination and how long it took God to make the universe. We fight about politics and appoint certain candidates as God's choice while others, if elected, are the anti-Christ. We gather in tight societies of people who think just like us and then, when something eventually divides us, we start church shopping again for a better group of people where we claim we "can be fed."

And Jesus looks on us as a beautiful bride while the Father calls us the apple of His eye. God's grace is a mystery. It takes the ugly and makes it beautiful.

We're an ugly baby but our Father sees us as truly beautiful.