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.

Smack them with a good dose of God?

My mom used to threaten to spank me with a yardstick. I didn't like the yardstick. When I'd see it come out of its cupboard home I'd change my behavior to avoid its sting.

What did your parents use to punish you? A paddle? Isolation? Losing a priviledge? I bet you didn't like whatever it was. Maybe it was the simple words, "Just wait until your father gets home!" Gee, that sure made us excited to see Daddy!

Getting kids to change their behavior is not an easy task. It would be easier if we could get God on our side. What would they do then?

Picture a five year old little cutie in her pretty church dress spinning around and enjoying the freedom of the big church hallway. There she is dancing and spinning with a smile from ear to ear ... until some other little kid dares to invade her space. The princess is peeved and gives him a shove to make it clear that he should bug off. But mom was watching her do it. Even worse, apparently Jesus was bummed about her behavior too.

"Do you know who saw you do that?" the mom said in frustration. "Jesus saw you do that and that does not make him happy!"

Ouch. Poor kid. Her head dropped and the expression on her face changed to sadness. It was bad enough to make mom mad but Jesus too? He was so disappointed with her.

It's tough being a parent. We all react out of anger sometimes. It's tempting to use God to give us the support we want. If our kids won't listen to us then surely they'll listen to God. Our kids grow up learning of God and discovering that he is apparently a lot like us. His voice even sounds like ours.

I remember the parent who punished her preadolescent son by sending him to his room to read his bible and write a summary of what God told him. By the time he reached the teen years he wanted nothing at all to do with bible study. It was like the yardstick was for me. The bible came to be associated with the negative.

When we use God or his Word to punish our kids we risk robbing them of the fullness of relationship with their Creator. That's not what any of us wants.

No one wants to hang out with instruments of punishment, pain or discomfort. I want my children to grow knowing the boundless love of the Savior. I want them to bathe in his grace and love. I want them to know that he will not turn his back on them or foresake them. And when they know that, they will want to reflect His character.

But first, I have to set my sights on reflecting His character in my own life so that they see Jesus in me. I must be less concerned about punishment and more concerned about discipline.

Punishment seeks payment whereas discipline seeks growth.

I felt like a big ole creeper

I went to a church softball game today. It's a church league actually. The fields are crawling with Christians. It was a bit surreal. Every "church" sat by itself cheering on only its players. There was no mixing.

I decided to try some experiments and wandered into the territory of other "churches." First, I tried just hanging out to see if anyone would talk to me. Nope, not a word. In fact, when I sat on the bleachers with one group of folks I had the very distinct feeling that I was not welcome in their space.

Next, I got a couple of ice-cold bottles of water out of the cooler and headed to mingle with another group. I offered a few people a cold drink. They all politely refused until one little girl told her mom she was thirsty. Her mom tried to put her off but I said, "Here, have some water. I don't want to walk away knowing this little girl told me she was thirsty and I gave her nothing to drink." I smiled at my ability to weave a bit of bible into the conversation but no one else smiled. Strike two! I headed off again leaving the bottle on the end of a row.

In my "church's" second game I decided to give it one more try while the teams were on the field. I walked over with my camera and offered to send the other team the digital shots if they wanted them. He looked at me like I had three eyes, but it was close so I'm going to say I fouled this one off. I would take one more hack at it. I spotted a lady with a boxer dog who was trying to pull her all over the place. I took a stab at some small talk with, "Man, he's pretty strong, huh? What's his name?" She told me he was strong but offered no name. Maybe she hadn't heard me. "What's his name? Is he friendly?" She turned her back on me and talked to some of her friends. Ouch. Strike three!

I again headed back to our "church's" spot where it was safe and people like me - or at least pretend to like me. Feeling like a big ole creeper as the result of my sociological experiment, my ego wounded and my ideals for the church of Jesus Christ dashed, I needed some comfort among my own people.

I think the church is bigger than these little buildings on every other street corner. I wish we felt more confident to be the church when we exit the front doors and leave the parking lot. I wonder what this softball league would look like if it went from churches playing against each other to the church enjoying each other and fellowshipping while playing softball.

I have a feeling it would be pretty attractive.

Church is for girls

"My husband hates going to church," she said with her face buried in her hands, tears flowing down her cheeks.

I wonder why this surprises women. How many men do you see wanting to head out to hang with people they don't know to sing songs they don't know while listening to some guy they don't know lecturing them from behind a desk? Church looks like a pretty feminine institution to me. "Let's all get together to share our hearts." Um, no thanks.

Women, on the whole, not all, love stuff like this. They go out of their way to take walks together or catch up while sipping coffee from giant mugs. They plan "play dates" for their kids and go to "mom's group" meetings mostly to connect with other women. Their notebooks fill up at bible studies while most men look to their watches wondering how long it will be before they are free.

About a year ago I heard of a church with a men's service. They met in the gym for no more than an hour. The pastor promised there would be no singing but lots of humor. When he got up to preach he would ask that 20 minutes be put up on the scoreboard. He crafted his messages to be fast-paced and relevant and done by the time the final buzzer sounded when the board hit zero. After the message ended the guys either watched a game together on large screens or cleared the tables to play floor hockey or shoot hoops. The service was growing each month and guys started developing friendships. Some of those friendships even spilled over into Sunday morning services, golf courses and workplaces.

As you can imagine, the keepers of "sound doctrine" and "deeper teaching" went on the attack with "that's not real church" and "it's compromising the gospel." Blah, blah, blah ... Why does the established church always seem to be compelled to undermine anything new or any attempt to penetrate the culture with something that just might work?

I bet the majority of women would hate that type of service. Maybe a husband would end up it my office asking, "Why does my wife hate going to church?"

Let's dare to do something different.

Michael doesn't want to be a wizard

"Church is all about rules," 14 year old Michael said. His body language and expression told me that, to him, it was a bad thing.

Michael has been going to church since he was born. His mom and dad love him. His church has active children and youth programs. His church is big - nice gym, classrooms with flatscreens and lots of places for him to get involved. The worship band rocks.


After 14 years of sitting in classrooms and pews week after week he's reached a conclusion. Christianity is all about what God wants him to do or not do and that's it. Case closed.


I wonder if Michael is right. Is it really all about rules? Or, is it just that my young friend does not have the cognitive depth to understand what is really going on? Maybe he just can't understand grace so he defaults to the rules. That sounds weak. I think he can understand grace.


Michael gets A's. He's a bright kid and an athlete. Why is he missing the grace piece? I think it's probably because of what he sees around him. He knows he can't go to certain movies because his parents are Christians. He knows he can't read Harry Potter books because they will somehow make him want to be a wizard. He knows he can't listen to Kanye West on his iPOD because Jesus wouldn't like it. In Michael's eyes, church is responsible for making him stick out like a sore thumb at school. Church is the reason his parents lay down rules that his friends don't have to live by.


Michael knows the Sunday school song below and has learned he needs to be careful about everything but he's not sure why. In his mind he needs to be careful because God is watching him. He's not really sure of what happens when he hears, sees, thinks or does something "bad." He's pretty sure what happens to "bad" people.


Oh, be careful little ears, what you hear
For the Father Up above,
Is looking down in love,
So be careful little ears what you hear.

And then it goes on for six more verses...
Oh, be careful little eyes, what you see,
Oh, be careful little mouth, what you say,
Oh, be careful little hands, what you do
Oh, be careful little feet where you go
Oh, be careful little mind what you think
Oh, be careful little heart what you love


I can't blame Michael. I think it's easy to see where he learned that church is all about rules. We churches tend to press on to "deeper" things once we think we've got salvation covered. For us, those deeper things focus on the practical "how to live" teachings. We say, "Now that you are a Christian you will ..."

Michael has not found church to be a freeing place. For him, it is a place of condemnation that continuously points out that he is a screw-up. He is not empowered to live life and doesn't understand the freedom he has in Jesus. He doesn't know that the Father sees him as perfect, holy and spotless. He doesn't know that God is fond of him and loves him regardless of Harry Potter movies or Jamie Foxx playing on his iPOD. He has not discovered the boundless love of Jesus which has compelled millions to shape their lives around Him.


Michael has gone to church for 14 years and has not encountered Jesus.

Conversations, Debates, Walls and Bridges

It takes at least two people to have a conversation. Conversations include giving and receiving; talking and listening.

Debates are different than conversations. The goal of a debate is to verbally beat down the opponent and be crowned the winner. Debate focuses on sound arguments, timing, intonation and careful presentation. The ebb and flow of volume and pitch are carefully orchestrated to bring about the goal of a win.

I like to debate. Some people hate debates. I like conversations. Most everyone enjoys conversation. Why the difference?

In debating I listen to my opponents' arguments while searching for the crack which will allow me a way in to cause their foundation to crumble. But, I'm not really interested in hearing them, identifying with them or considering their words. Debate is not about understanding, it is about winning.

Conversations happen. You say what you think and feel. I hear it and respond. Conversation is connection. It is sharing and valuing. Conversations lead to discoveries and understanding.

I think faith is a conversation that too often gets bumped by debate. My fellow Christians and I get training to become better debaters. We talk about worldview and defending God. (Can the Sovereign be defended? Does the Sovereign need defending?) Don't get me wrong ... it's good training and will come in handy when we find ourselves in the middle of debates.

I'd rather defuse debates and turn them to conversations. I'd rather hear what my Muslim neighbor believes and understand why he believes it. I'd rather talk with my gay friend and hear his heart and try to understand him instead of bringing out my "Three Ways to Convert Gays" pamphlet. I've learned that when I truly work to listen and understand others that they give me the same privilege of sharing what makes me who I am. Conversations lead to understanding. Debates usually just reinforce walls.

As a follower of Christ, I believe it's the Holy Spirit who brings about the result He desires. From what I see in Christ, my job is to love God and love others. In that love I will be ready to give an answer for the Hope that lives within me and will do that with gentleness and respect.

Conversations build relational bridges.

What's the point?

What's the point of checking into Christ? Why look at the way he lived life? Why consider the things he said?

Most people I talk to have no major issues with Jesus. I hear things like, "He was a good man," and "He was revolutionary," and "He did a lot of good things." But the attitude turns negative pretty quickly when I ask what people think of church. I hear complaints of judgmental attitudes, self-righteous superiority and meaningless tradition. It sounds like the church and Christ are not even related in their eyes.

I'm a pastor. People outside our comfy walls make me sad but I'm not sure what is at the root of that sadness. Am I sad that that say bad things or am I sad that the bad things they say are true?

I went to a church once where the pastor became some sort of surrogate for God in the eyes of many of the people. They would seek his input in every decision and were paralyzed when he wasn't around to tell them what to do. He seemed to like the arrangement on people growing more and more dependent on him being God's anointed. He used warfare terminology and set outsiders up as pawns of the enemy. It was us verses them. Cable TV was a channel for demons to enter our homes and the key to keeping demons out was to have him come to our homes and put oil on window sills while praying against Satan. Some people really got into it. Me? I just couldn't find it in the teachings of Jesus.

I flip through the channels on television and see people wearing big gold rings, blowing on people who then fall over and promising blessings for whoever sends in money. They all talk about Jesus. I see news shows with clips of people yelling and holding up big signs with "Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve" block printed on poster-board. I think, "Wow, so that's the slogan? That's the best you've got." I look for all of these folks' attitudes in the teachings of Jesus and I can't find them.

Maybe we're missing the point. Jesus said the point was to love God about all and then love others. Shouldn't that be what we're known for?

I apologize if a church hurt you. I apologize for the people who, without even knowing you, have gotten into your face to tell you you're going to hell. I apologize that you've not seen the life-changing, course-changing, defining love of Jesus in me. If we are the obstacles that keep you from considering Jesus, that makes me sad.

I encourage you to look past me and all the others who have blown it and go directly to the book of Luke to check out Jesus for yourself (and then flip to John). He really did change the world. It's worth finding out how and why.

Repelling others in the name of Christ

Have you ever heard about the woman who was following the Apostle Paul around and yelling, "Yo, listen up, these guys speak for God and know the way to live forever! Listen up!"

Like the pimped up car with the tinted windows sitting next to me at the light, her "boom, boom, boom" was constant and loud. It turned heads. The cranked sound system starts annoying me after maybe 30 seconds. This girl went on for days.

It sounds to me like she's really into promoting Paul and the cause of Christ. She's definitely not ashamed to draw attention to them. She's vocal and persistent. She's got a sketchy past but now she definitely seems to be pretty motivated by Paul's message.

And then something bizarre happens ... Paul gets tired of the endless noise and turns to her and shuts her up by casting an evil spirit out of her.

This girl followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, "These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved." She kept this up for many days. Finally Paul became so troubled that he turned around and said to the spirit, "In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to come out of her!" At that moment the spirit left her. Acts 16:17-18

The account in Acts 16 really isn't about the girl at all. It's about corrupt people making money off oppression and then making Paul pay for ruining their business by freeing her.

But, I'm drawn to the girl. Why would an evil spirit push her to keep calling attention to Paul and telling everyone to listen? That doesn't make sense to me ... unless she was actually repelling people by her actions. Maybe that was the case. The whole of Scripture shows us that demons were not in the habit of boldly pestering the Lord's agents. Or maybe Paul just felt bad for her because of her condition and decided to heal her.

Have you ever met someone who is incredibly vocal, zealous and looks totally committed to Christ but they repel people like classical music repels teenagers? Let me be clear, I'm not suggesting they are possessed. What I am wondering is if we do more harm than good when we take on the role of the obnoxiously vocal girl.

Most of my Christian brothers and sisters who fit this mold wear their "persecution" like a badge and are actually fueled by resistance and objections. When they get no result or face objection they become even louder and more aggressive. Gentleness and respect are far from view. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness ... nowhere to be seen as loud voices and passionate pleas ring out.

I cringe when my loud brother steps up to the microphone and I think, "Oh man, what's coming now?" When that passionate man scolds and wags his finger against whatever the cause for the day, I ask that the Lord might soften his words. I look around the room and see eyes roll and arms fold across chests in defensive postures.

I remember a young woman in one of the groups I directed who presented herself as super spiritual. She wanted more times to pray, more worship and frequently lectured the others about what it meant to be serious about God. She was vocal and passionate and repelling. Others just felt like they didn't make the grade when she was around. Until a weekend retreat that flipped everything upside down.

As 20 of us spent time away seeking God's direction, she spent most of the weekend dominating our discussions. But then, one of the young women found lice in her own hair. The super spiritual one flipped. She reacted angrily, called the girl "disgusting" and refused to be in the same room or even ride in a car with the embarrassed girl. While she threw her fit, another young woman who was known for having some visible struggles and making some poor choices, stayed up putting lice treatment in the infected girl's hair. She then patiently and lovingly combed out dead lice and eggs until the girl was clean. All the while she assured the young woman that it was okay and could happen to anyone. It was very clear who represented Christ that weekend.

The next weekend the super-spiritual girl shared her testimony and went on at length about what it means to love God and love others. Unfortunately, no one could hear her because her actions were still screaming so loudly in their ears. Several girls confronted her after her message but she would not receive them. She was not about to take any advice from anyone who she saw as being lower on the spiritual maturity ladder. She still saw them as far below her.

Repellent. Missing the point of Jesus. Twisting arms. Judging. Pointing fingers. Comparing. How can we be so blind to think that we are calling people to Christ when we see them running for cover when they see us coming?

Jesus didn't repel. In fact, crowds followed Him. He had to slip away to manage some alone time. He listened to people. He heard them, he called them by name, he ate dinner at their houses. He challenged the status quo religion and invited relationships.

The pharisees were all about lifting themselves up and drawing attention to how holy they were. Jesus didn't even make their cut.

When the pharisees are happy with me it is time for me to re-evaluate my witness.

I got, got, got no time ...

How would your perspective change if you had an unlimited supply of time and resources? Let that sink in for just a minute. I'm thinking that my usual annoyance with the slow teenager working the drive-thru might just evaporate.

We Americans are slaves to the clock. Some cultures operate with little thought of time. When my African friends say we will meet "tonight" I have learned that they might show up anytime after 3 pm and stay for as long as it takes until it just seems appropriate to call it a night. Time is irrelevant.

We like to have our agendas, our planners and schedules. But, we also like to fantasize about time travel and being able to manipulate time.

Enter God. Time is not an issue for God. He's timeless. Can I admit to being baffled by that fact? Timeless. All of time has happened at once. God exists in what has been called the "external present." It is occurring and finished. In fact, God created time and before He created it, there was no human measure. What time is it right now?

I look in Genesis and see a 7 day account. But then I notice that our time pieces don't even get hung in the sky until day four. Were there 7 days or not? I think there were but I also think that God includes time type stuff for our benefit because He's timeless. Our days our numbered, God's days are not.

We move to close the deal, wrap up the loose ends and then move on. But God is willing to take a lifetime or more to accomplish His purposes. In some portions of Scripture He stays silent for hundreds of years. We "drive-thru Christians" get nervous and start laying on the horn when He doesn't quickly greet us with "May I take your order." Or worse, we give up and speed away angrily.

Isaiah 40::31 Those who wait on Him get strength. They go further and higher.

If I had an eternal perspective I bet it would effect my relationships the most. I bet I'd play more games of Monopoly and Risk. Most of us value time more than we value people. We just don't have time to "waste." For most of us, time is money. It's a commodity to be spent.

I believe that God created us, trees, seeds, animals and all. Much of His creation consists of things I can wrap my mind around and, at least superficially, comprehend. They are things I can see and touch. But time? Time is not something I can produce or contain. I can't store it up for future use and cannot give my extra hours to someone else nor borrow from them when I'm in need. I have absolutely no control over time itself.

My time budget is limited. I have a very finite number of minutes to spend. I wonder why I have such a tough time recognizing that the best place to spend those minutes is in relationships? I wonder why my daily calendar shows that I live in a Christian bubble, interacting almost entirely with Christians doing Christian things. If I would just spend my minutes loving others outside the bubble, hearing them and building relationships, surely God would open hearts to eternity with Him.

That is the clear message of the gospel that Jesus preached and lived.

Where can I find a pin to pop this bubble?