Inhabit Conference, Thoughts Entry #4: The Danger of Curriculum

(Note: Wednesday’s & Thursday’s entries are taken directly from the address Tim Soerens gave during the Inhabit Conference I attended last weekend. The three main points in his address during the Leadership in New Parish Symposium on Saturday afternoon are what I’ll be thinking through)

A couple of quick stories:

Cut to a lunch table loaded with youth pastors. I had by far the most experience and was easily 10 years the elder statesman of the group. Now, this isn’t to say that I was the “best” of the bunch because there were two that I truly thought were more gifted than I was…but after years of a lot of professional turnover, these lunches had become a repeat of the earlier get-togethers. Usually the younger guys would want to get some big event on the docket. Something we could do “together to show unity among area churches.” Somehow, Third Day and Mercy Me and a local football field would help us show unity. The next question was what curriculum we were using for our middle school/high school ministry.

I always appreciated the heart behind the first discussion even if I knew enough about logistics to know it would be a lot more money than the young guys thought it would be…which usually squelched the ideas because nobody seemed to have an extra $15K lying around their budgets. It was the second question that made me crazy because I didn’t understand it.

See, I never purchased curriculum during my tenure in youth ministry. And when they’d ask me what I was using, the answer went something like this: “Well, our group is taking a look at the nature of the community in the process of spiritual growth, so we’re looking at passages in Acts & Thessalonians about the nature of the early church.” Their question: “Who published that?” Me: “Um, well, I don’t think anyone in Nashville knows my kids and context. So, I pray, study and off we go.”

Their response: “But…but…why reinvent the wheel? Shouldn’t you be spending time with kids in coffee shops or at their games? Why not just get some good stuff from Youth Specialties or Lifeway and use that time building relationships?”

Cut to a Q&A session after I’d spoken to a group of younger moms for our women’s ministry.

Question from the audience: “What books would you recommend for parenting our kids? You’ve got so many years of working with teens and I only have so much time, so which ones are the best?”

My response: “Proverbs and Psalms.”

Nice lady: “No. What books? Like ones we could get from the Christian bookstore.”

Me: “I’m being sincere when I say just spend time reading Psalms and Proverbs and you’re limited reading time will be maximized. I’m not trying to be cute or trite. Just dive in to those and you’ll develop a deeper walk and that’ll make you a better parent.”

Nice lady: “But there have to be good books, too.”

Me: “Well, in my experience, parenting books are all written from a position of success by the author. The problem is that it often makes you feel inferior. Psalms lets you deal with the ups and downs of the spiritual life and Proverbs gives you principles to guide you in good times and tough ones. I mean, nobody writes a book about what they did to provoke their kid to roll their eyes and slam the doors or that their kid got four tickets and two wrecks in their first two years of driving. All the books “work” and all the books “fail.” So my advice is to stick to God’s advice and be Spirit-led as you parent.”

And…

…one more group I won’t be asked back to speak for.

I had the discussion several times when I was leading the Christian Education department at our church. I’d ask adult ministry leaders why they’d dedicated an entire semester to (insert nationally-known Christian All-Star)’s DVD/Workbook series…to which I was told how great of a speaker he/she is and how “passionate” they were (as an aside, I’d like to remove that adjective from our lexicon as I can’t think of one more misapplied. Coffee with me if you want to discuss that).

Look. I get that they’re great. But are you trying to tell me that they know our people and our context more than someone in our ministry? And are you telling me that (nationally-known best-selling author here) knows our needs better than us? Surely we can be all Ephesians 4 and have gifted servants write something for us.

Them: “But this is already written and proven and I’ve seen it. It’s great.”

I’m not alone. In 2010, Lifeway (the only company I looked up) averaged $60 million in sales.

Sixty…

…million…

…dollars.

And that was the final point of Tim Soeren’s symposium. That we can easily fall into a trap that spiritual formation occurs through more information.

Think about it for a second. A typical church service starts with announcements, goes into a few songs (which we call worship) that we sing together, there’s a special song by a talented member of the church while we “worship through giving,” then we go into a 30-40 minute sermon that is lecture. It’s information driven while we sit in our chairs and listen. Then our Sunday School class is the same thing with tables and chairs and a “master teacher” format that runs the same length but there’s maybe some Q&A. Our mid-week studies are the same thing with the exception that we’re in a small group and we sit in a circle and have prayer requests…and then we read a book we picked up at the local Lifeway about some area we’re trying to improve our spiritual life. Maybe we attend a conference or two, like a Women of Faith thing or Promise Keepers or Teen Mania…even those are mostly larger-scale versions of our Sundays when it comes right down to it.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m big on information. I love learning.

But Tim Soerens’ point was that information alone isn’t going to get the job done. The funny thing was he talked about the romance of publishing and made a joke about “half this room being published authors.” It was true. I’d read a lot of their books…and the conference was attended by a little over a hundred folks…and it was entirely possible that half of them had a book out.

His point is correct. It requires information, to be sure. That’s a part of the process. But the American church is missing the boat when it comes to having those principles embodied in the life of a person who is walking alongside you, as well as living it out in a community of folks who will encourage and, if needed, rebuke you.

And too often, we show up on our Sunday classes, hear good information and have a cup of coffee with a few friends, hit up our small group and do things similarly, and then we live out the other hours of our lives all by ourselves…

…hoping that the next sermon series, or conference, or book, or class, will spur us to a deeper, abundant life.

And they won’t. These will only come from what Soerens called a “whole life faith.” Where we live with a common mission, with a common formation of our spiritual lives, lived out in common relationships (or community). This will spur us on to faith & good works. I mean, I kept hearing at the conference that their goal was to simply encourage people to do and say the things Jesus did and said…which, when you look at it with the disciples, they had common mission, forming their spiritual lives with a common focus and living out that faith with common relationships.

So, today, for the discussion…

Who are some people that lived out their faith alongside you and how did they embody the information you were given?
What do each of the elements of Soerens’ “whole life faith” look like to you?
Can you think of a time when all three of those elements were obvious in your life and would you say that was a time of spiritual growth for you?

Have at it, patrons!

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Inhabit Conference, Thoughts Entry #3: The Danger of Colonialism

(Note: Yesterday’s and tomorrow’s entries are taken directly from the address Tim Soerens gave during the Inhabit Conference I attended last weekend. The three main points in his address during the Leadership in New Parish Symposium on Saturday afternoon are what I’ll be thinking through)

Please tell me you’ve seen the “Missionary Impossible” episode of The Simpson’s.

For those that haven’t, here’s the general idea: Homer makes a $10,000 phone fund-drive pledge (which, naturally, he doesn’t have) to save a PBS station. Upon finding out he’s broke, Betty White & her cohorts chase him and he runs for sanctuary in Springfield’s church run by Reverend Lovejoy. The reverend hides him in a bag of letters to be sent via cargo plane to a church in “Microasia” and Homer becomes a missionary. This is in spite of the fact that his lack of understanding of his religion to the degree that he refers to Jesus as “Jebus.”

After dropping in on the indigenous population’s peaceful and happy lives of slow-paced, South Pacific island life…

…he introduces a casino.

This makes a mess of things. Alcohol and violence come to the formerly peaceful island. Homer decides to build a chapel to say he’s sorry. Then they ring the enormous church bell to call everyone to worship but the reverberations cause an earthquake, which releases molten lava all over the island.

All in all, it’s pretty funny. Well, if it weren’t such an example of the current view of the American church’s propensity for colonialism. This is the second “siren” warning that Tim Soerens highlighted in his Saturday symposium.

And, I’ve seen it in real life. My former church has a sister church in Haiti. We worked in partnership with a church-planting mission group over 20 years ago and I had the pleasure to visit. It was nice to see brothers and sisters in Christ where we’d developed a relationship over the last two decades…they sent members to visit our congregation and the works. All in all, it’s a positive on both sides.

But on my trip, I couldn’t help but notice the efforts of the Americans who planted the church had crept into this church in a city of 16,000 people on the extreme western tip of the southern isthmus of the nation. For example, where did these folks surrounded by jungle get electric guitars and amps? Why were they wearing suits to the main service on Sunday when there wasn’t a suit anywhere else in the town? Why were they singing American/Euro hymns? Why did they sit on pews?

Now, don’t get me wrong. These aren’t necessarily negatives but I did wonder about the Homer Simpson effect. I mean, what were the instruments they used before we showed up? Surely they had some. It’s a Caribbean nation…why were they wearing suits? What were their normal clothes, or even what would they have worn to a more formal occasion before we showed up? Could they write songs of praise in their more local style? I even inadvertently threw them for a loop as the pastor when some of our teens played some of theirs in soccer and I joined in to even up the teams. The field was soon surrounded by locals who were pointing and laughing…apparently, in their culture, men don’t run. Especially not pastors. They’d never seen a grown man run for such a long period of time. I wondered if that affected their view of what a pastor should/could be. That might not’ve been the best thing if later on, someone said that Christian men play soccer and put that pastor at odds with his culture. Granted, none of these things are really big deals and we did our best to discover their customs and rhythms. For example, we had an idea to give the church enough money to, more or less, make sure families got rice & beans through an outreach program we would provide. Their leadership suggested more of a co-op approach where we provided seeds for plants and those that used them for a garden had to replace two cups of seeds after the individual garden harvest as it fit their society better (apparently, “welfare” has a negative connotation to them, and their way would allow those that got seeds from the church a better reputation in the community).

Sure, that’s the “macro” sense of colonialism.

But we do it in small ways, too. Tim used an example of a big suburban church had an outreach event in an urban neighborhood. There were bounce houses and a large grill for hot dogs and hamburgers and kids with face painting and balloons and the whole deal. The church had the best of intentions and came back a few weeks later without all that stuff to visit those they’d built relationships with. They heard from several moms about how their kids were discontent now. They’d never had hot dogs before and now they wanted hot dogs (which she could not afford) all the time. The kids weren’t content riding bikes anymore because they wanted to go to a climbing wall or blow-up obstacle course. They wanted to paint faces and they couldn’t afford the paint. You get the idea.

The best of intentions can have downsides if we aren’t careful.

And that goes for anywhere or anytime.

See, the way we “do church” or the “spiritual life” might work well for our context. For example, a megachurch might have some negatives, but it seems to fit the rhythms of my subdivision. I mean, you can do church without power point and electric guitars with pop music, but folks are used to power point and pop music is what they listen to. Most everyone is educated formally and graduate degrees aplenty, so the lecture format for learning is one folks are used to (yes, we can debate the effectiveness, but that’s another blog). We’re used to commutes and big buildings and parking lots and dropping our kids off and specialization. So, it works.

But in other contexts, the same thing would be detrimental. Say in the inner city where you don’t have any place for a nursery since you’re in a home or maybe meeting in a community center with one room. To try to implement all those same features would be a mistake, no? We’d need to talk to them about the unique features of their community, no? So, if folks didn’t have money for breakfast, it’d be tough for them to come and pay attention so maybe we’d need to supply breakfast for them. Maybe we’d need to design a time together differently. Maybe different music. Discussion instead of lecture/power points. Different music (if we even used music at all).

You get the idea, right?

See, this plays into my “dreams” entry a little bit. I know the rhythms of my community since I’ve lived here so long and one thing I’ve noticed is that our architecture keeps us from meeting/knowing our neighbors. Our desire for structure keeps our kids from having a place to hang out. We attend churches where we zip in for (at-best) three hours a week and it takes a very long time to develop deep relationships. We’re busy folks so you can’t add much to anyone’s schedule so new programs are resisted unless concessions are made to that reality. The idea of hosting neighbors in your home hurts two ways: You gotta clean up to host, and then you can’t cocoon and decompress from the day. Which is why I think a GREAT “3rd space” is needed and would work here. But I’m not sure it’d work in other settings…nor would it even be needed.

So, for discussion today…
How have you seen colonialism in a “macro” or “micro” sense?
Do you agree that it’s a warning the Church needs to be aware of?
Finally, how do you see the nature of your “place” helping your spiritual growth? Hindering it?

Have at it, patrons!

Inhabit Conference, Thoughts Entry #2: The Danger of Consumerism

We’ve got to start thinking in new terms. Do we want new worship leaders, preachers, youth specialists and writers? Then let’s keep doing what we’re doing. We’re good at creating all-stars for the current way of doing church. But what is it that we really want? We need to find new ways to experience walking with God.”–Paul Sparks in his session “The Medium is the Message”

(Note: The next three days worth of entries are taken directly from the address Tim Soerens gave during the Inhabit Conference I attended last weekend. The three main points in his address during the Leadership in New Parish Symposium on Saturday afternoon are what I’ll be thinking through)

It’s a discussion that I’ve been having with several folks who were involved in my church during the time of explosive growth. We were having those problems all churches love to have. You know what I’m talking about: Not enough parking so we had to run shuttles from a remote lot. Expanding to three and then to four services. Septic problems because the old building wasn’t designed for 1,000 people each week. Not enough room for Sunday School classes. The youth moving to a stand-alone program on Sunday evenings and shifting our middle school program to Tuesday nights because the children’s ministry filled the building on Wednesdays.

They were fun times, man.

The obvious solution: A new building. In our case, 60,000 square feet of ministry tool with wide hallways and ample classroom space and an auditorium to seat 850. There were plans to develop the acreage to include a dedicated worship space, expand the current building to 70,000 square feet dedicated to classroom spaces, and add an outdoor family life area to make a nice park complete with amphitheater and gazebos and walking paths.

It was fun to dream. It is fun to dream.

And people did come. From all over the place. We had programs galore in all age ranges and life-stations. We kept four services but were giving considerable thought to a fifth on Saturday evenings. We became, by the strictest definition, a megachurch. Now, keep in mind that in our area, a megachurch can range over 24,000, but by definition there are over 70 megachurches in DFW.

All offering the best in women’s ministries, men’s ministries, children & youth, senior citizens, sports leagues (even one for kids where they all play by character-building guidelines), incredibly talented worship leaders and Sunday services where 10,000 could take communion at once and every single bell & whistle you can imagine.

But, like all well-intentioned goals there were some unintended consequences. For example, I had students that came to our small groups that met in homes on Wednesday nights, attended worship service (they didn’t like our music) at another place on Saturday, went to the “outreach” events at another, and youth group at still another. Adults came to our church because of a particular video series but attended faithfully in another congregation. People were driving 40 minutes to hear a particular pastor preach.

It was frustrating on several levels…but the bottom line was that I was seeing the entire approach to the spiritual life become driven by the wants & desires of the individual (or individual families). You could lose a series of families if your pastor left, or the worship style changed, or if another church added a sports league for your kids. You could commute in for your hour on Sunday and never be a part of any community at all. We saw it get personal, too. I mean, at first our student ministry staff meetings were a lot about praying for students and parents and such, then they evolved into who was doing worship and who would get the video done by Sunday and how creative we could be with room design.

In short, we built it, they came.

And I’m not sure we were any better at discipling people. In fact, we may have lost a step or two in the transaction because we were attracting people who were attracted to cool programs and not necessarily those who were serious about growing in Christ. And, like my friend Charlie said, “The method you use to attract people will be the method you have to use to keep people.” We became about having to be better and excellent at what we were doing: running programs. We were, too.

So, cut to these conversations I’ve been having with friends/colleagues who were all involved in our church at that time. I posted the reality that there wasn’t much serious discussion (if any, although a few said there were some, but I wasn’t privy to them) about doing the exact opposite. Maybe selling the building we owned or using it for training purposes and focusing on small group or even neighborhood-type ministry (much like the Parish Collective is doing now).

When I mentioned that, one of the best responses I got was, “Brent, no one was really having those kinds of conversations back then. There wasn’t all the data we have today about the failures of the megachurch model regarding discipleship or the amount of publishing that’s out there highlighting the shortcomings. You were all having honest discussions in the times you lived them out.” Fair enough.

But now, see, I’m on a journey of deconstruction of all this. I’m not on the sidelines of this. I’ve lived it first-hand. I’ve seen the upsides (and there are some, to be sure) and I’ve experienced the realities of this model.

I have serious stripes in evangelical circles, man. I was plugged in to a solid Bible church growing up in Alabama and, for whatever reason, those in leadership were proactive in spending time with me…and lovingly walked alongside me to help me make further decisions to grow spiritually during my undergrad years. I worked professionally for Youth for Christ for years. I got a degree from Dallas Theological Seminary. I worked for a growing church in the Dallas area for 15 years…in a specialty where the average tenure is somewhere between 18 months to 3 years.

So, when Tim spoke, he was sharing with the attendees the warning signs he is seeing. I lived them.

The first warning was regarding consumerism and the dangers of where that would lead to not only churches, but to individuals in those systems.

And today, here at The Diner, I’d love to hear your thoughts on:
1) The positive experiences you’ve had if you’ve been in or are currently involved in a larger church with many programs.
2) Some ways you’ve seen the consumer mentality played out where you live.
3) Some ways you see the church at-large can be more effective at truly discipling people. What that would look like, what the needs are, etc.

So, have at it, patrons!

Inhabit Conference, Thoughts Entry #1: Dreaming Again

Most of you know that I’ve been angsty about the effectiveness of the local church when it comes to helping people do and say the things that Jesus did and said. I mean, I’ve trafficked in the highest levels of evangelicalism since my earliest days of following Jesus…everything from attending a “solid” Bible church in my days as a student, having fellow travelers take me under their wings in college, excellent years in ministry with Youth for Christ, knowledgeable & capable professors at Dallas Theological Seminary, and 15 years serving in one local congregation in the edges of the Bible Belt.

To be sure, I’ve seen some wins. I cannot deny that

But, frankly, I’ve seen more ties (at best) and losses (at worst), much of both caused by the “systems” of evangelicalism. I’m passionate about being proactive in trying to correct those weaknesses in how we do business…especially as it relates to the future of how we do business. I’d say that the last half of my life will be dedicated to that very thing, especially as it relates to preparing the next generation for the handoff of leadership & vision we’ll give them.

Someone who knows my passion well recommended that I attend the Inhabit Conference last weekend in Seattle. It’s put on by The Parish Collective, which is an organization dedicated to getting people who are doing ministry through local neighborhoods together to pool resources and experiences. They partnered with The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology to make the weekend happen. Now, you should know that these are the types of groups that will actually schedule a pub-crawl as part of the conference. Awesome.

Now, it isn’t my intent to use The Diner to bore you with details of each speaker/topic or breakout seminars or whatever…there was simply way too much by way of information/insight to process before I could even begin, anyway. What I’d like to do is use the major themes of the conference to get discussion going.

Suffice to say that when these folks started the entire conference by doing an exercise to “welcome home” those of us on the fringes because we’re questioning convention & practice of the North American Church, well, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt truly “at home” among my Tribe and it meant so much to me to (almost instantly) feel I’d found my people.

At any rate, as Mark Scandrette, one of the breakout session leaders, noted, there is a gap between what many evangelicals dream about personally and for their ministries and their “doing” of these things. Granted, this is an old theme…much like we all know that to lose weight we need to improve our diets and exercise more but we never get around to it. Or we’ll start next week, next month, when things slow down. So we wind up sitting in discontent between where we are and where we want to be.

Since I’m being honest here, that’s where much of my angst lies.

Yep.

I have a dream for ministry.

No. It doesn’t look like the suburban Bible-Belt congregation. Yes. I know that model “worked” for many…at least on the surface. But since I’m being honest, I think that wave has crested and we’re on the downside of it. Yes. I know that many of my Texan friends will dispute this and point to all the big buildings with fannies in seats each Sunday and blah blah blah. As I’ve mentioned before in this space, the studies are in: Fannies in seats doesn’t mean effective discipleship is taking place. As I’ve also mentioned in this space, the “commuter” church (as the folks at this conference often referred to megachurches) has some inherent flaws in the system. I won’t bore you with more regurgitations of the same. You should know I’m not alone in this line of thinking as current publishing in Christian circles is more than happy to sell books on it…and is doing so.

Much of this comes from the individualistic and information-driven (which I’ll discuss in the next three days, so plan on a busy week here at The Diner) approach to spirituality that most of our discipleship methods lead to. You know, you attend a class in a lecture format on Sunday, or sit in an auditorium and listen to a charismatic speaker after hearing a hip & with-it worship leader, and maybe grab your Bible and your devotional and your journal and snuggle up with a latte at Starbucks two or three days a week. Then you call that “quiet time” your “worship.” As one the speakers put it, “Have you noticed that we can ‘worship’ Jesus without ever really worshipping Jesus?”

Anyway, back to my dream…which certainly employs much of what I gleaned from my experiences in student ministry and puts it in a blender with the realities of the suburban place I’ve been stationed.

See, I put the dream on the back-burner inadvertently. I started focusing on all the reasons it didn’t seem doable. The start-up cash I’d need. The locations that all have drawbacks. The start-up of something foreign in the Bible Belt and the resistance that will come…much of it’ll be harsh instead of constructive. The much more romantic allure of moving downtown and working with the young & urban populace. I’d stopped dreaming. My fault.

Here’s the dream I let die (which, as an aside, I believe can work in/through/with the right local church as the principles could apply though a variety of already happening ministries where all you have to do is add a little imagination…so, I’m not ruling out working for a church at all. The right church with the right mindset could implement such an environment in existing systems): A “Third Space” kind of place that wasn’t given to the Wednesday/Sunday conventions of our culture for the spiritual life. A place where you could be excited to leave your privacy-fenced cocoon and drop-in, as you are, where you are. A place where you could know others and be known by others. A place where you could grab margaritas and discuss the problems of raising kids in a pressure-cooker or deep theology. A place where you could smoke cigars & drink scotch and throw darts (or, skeeball or horseshoes or whatever else we had room for). A place where all generations could roll in and feel at home. The music would be good but low enough to allow for talking more than anything else. Where the only TV would be behind curtains that would open only for “planned events” like a ballgame or The Bachelor finale or whatever else would foster community rather than provide white noise & visual pollution. A place where the kids would be welcome and grandfathers could teach dominoes without having to spend $4 for a latte and having enough room for a table of 20 or nooks for two. A place where live music happened in our burgh. A place that would be upbeat & you could just drop in whenever you felt like it and expect to see someone you know (even if it wasn’t prearranged) and feel like you were “31 miles from Dallas, 40 miles from Ft. Worth and a million miles from Alone & Busy.” A place where you could live out your spiritual life in true community with all that entails.

Sounds beautiful, no?

Why did I let this die under the weight of practicality? Why had I stopped praying about it? I have no idea.

And this conference helped me to dream again.

So, today, here at The Diner (which, 8 years ago I named this blog that very thing, so maybe seeds of this type of community have always been with me)…

I know I took a heady and circuitous route to get to a simple question, but that’s my biggest take-away.

…what is YOUR dream right now?

P.S. Tomorrow we’ll dive into some more provocative insights from the conference.

Why I Write

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Personal Journey

I’ve been bouncing the idea of writing several books around, and I chatted with someone who asked me a question no one has ever really asked me before: “Why do you write anything at all?” I’d never really thought about that all that much…it just seemed like something I had to do. I’ve read enough “how to write” books by other authors that I could answer the question with some blend of plagiarism and semantics but I’d never answered the question myself. So, today, here are my initial thoughts on the question…

I am not what you see. Not by a long shot.

I grew up in the Deep South, the real South, the Heart-of-Dixie South. One where appearances matter a great deal and social skills are paramount. You know the jokes about how that phrase, “Bless her heart” means something catty. That South. I’ve learned from tutors how to shake hands firmly and look someone in the eye. I’ve been drilled in “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am” to the point that I still do it today and I’m 46 years old. I know how to make sweet tea that could double as pancake syrup in a pinch and could serve it to Marilyn Manson with a smile. I think the phrase for that is “social grace.”

And I guess “social grace” helps us get along and overall, I’m glad they exist and that I’m aware of them. But I don’t buy that there is deep truth in them anymore than I buy into the belief that New Yorkers are “rude.” They aren’t. They’re “frank.” In other words, they aren’t trying to be mean or insult you. That isn’t their heart attitude. The waiter’s simply trying to get you out of the restaurant because there is a line outside and he needs the table to clear out a little faster than another cup of mud will last. It’s two sides of the same coin, really.

What I mean is this: The insides and the outsides don’t match up.

See, I have lived in the upper echelons of evangelicalism since I was 16 years old. At first, I didn’t know the “codes.” See, I was drawn to Jesus at that station in life. Fascinated by Him would be a better description. The Jesus that was in the Bible was a LOT different than the Jesus of Deep South social graces. He was a New Yorker in a china shop. He pushed all the “right” people into a rage and blessed all the “wrong” people. He had little regard for the status quo. He wanted people to metamorphosize and the first step of that was poking and prodding everything you thought you knew. The entire deal of the Sermon on the Mount, his initial manifesto, wasn’t the polite little sermon we’ve milquetoasted into anemia. It was highly inflammatory and a gauntlet to the religious elite. He blessed all the wrong people. He told a nation that they were dark and tasteless where they were supposed to be light and flavorful. He went way past behavior management and into the hearer’s hearts.

It was stunning.
I loved it.
I couldn’t get enough of it.

And then I was given the codes of evangelical behavioral management. I didn’t hear as much about the stunning Jesus I couldn’t get enough of. But I heard a lot about not having Ozzy blaring with the windows down and not getting an earring and wondering how close I could get to sin without crossing some imaginary line of how far I could go with my girlfriend. Jesus got lost in the shuffle…even if the other stuff was by well-intentioned folks who loved and cared about me.

Which is why I started journaling.

I couldn’t reconcile what was going on in my heart with the social graces and evangelical codes. So, from where I sat, my mom could pay a therapist or I could buy a $0.99 composition notebook that looked like a cow and download there. In addition to the economics of it all, like my mom used to say, “therapy had a different stigma back then.”

And writing gave me the ability to process my thoughts.

How could I smile at my mom and say, “Yes, ma’am” when inside I was wanting to stab her in the eyes with a fork?
How could I sit in church while other folks seemed to love singing and wonder why the music was terrible and singing is for the birds unless you’re inciting a riot at the local punk club?
How could I act happy about holding hands with my girlfriend when what I really wanted to do was figure out a way to erase the line my youth pastor drew about how far is too far?
How could I talk to the guy who was discipling me about my spiritual growth when I was really lying to him about how many quiet times I’d had that week (which was, um, zero) or tell him I really didn’t know what consists of a quiet time?
How could I politely wave to the girl who cut me off in traffic when I was blaming her race for an unfair stereotype and wondering why Christians didn’t have any explicit gestures for just such occasions?

I could go on.

But at the end of it all, it was cutting through the social graces and evangelical codes and getting to the heart of the matters that started my writing. And getting to the heart of the matter seemed to me to be what Jesus was all about…getting to the heart of the matter and fixing the heart. So that’s why I started.

So why do I continue to write?

For the same reasons. Still trying to get to the heart of many matters. It helps me organize my thoughts and ask hard questions. Which is the first step to transformation.

And because sometimes, there are things that need to be said…out loud…but it’s wiser to wait until they’ve been processed and such. Transformation should be shared.

Honestly.
From the heart.

Because “social graces” and “evangelical codes” will stunt your growth and feed the status quo.
I view those as negatives.

The bottom line of why I write?

Because I still need to clear the mechanism of my brain’s weird thoughts, which will convict me of where my heart is awful, which will allow the parts of me that don’t look like the revolutionary Jesus to be cut away.

I took you a long way to get to the short answer…
…but, as best as I can discern, that’s why.

Your thoughts, patrons?

Hoots And Salutes

I was a “big brother” to a sorority when I was in college and we had meetings once a month or something, and what I always looked forward to was the end of the meetings where the girls would put index cards anonymously in a box labeled “Hoots & Salutes.” Then the president would pull them out one at a time and read them. You know, like, “Hoots” to Joe for getting 4 parking tickets this week…or “salutes” to Jim for winning the intramural swim meet. I liked that sense of community where we could laugh with/at each other as well as celebrate those things worthy of celebration. I brought that little tradition to my student ministry and they loved it.

So, today, just a bit of that for my own amusement:

HOOTS to the parents who took their five-year-old kid to a Major League Game, handed him an iPad in the first inning and let him play video games (with the noise level on high so we could all enjoy them) for five innings before you left: You didn’t take your kid to a ballgame. You took your kid to a stadium and ignored him. And that’s a vitally important difference. Next time, put your arm around him, ask him to count the players. Have him point out the bases. Ask him to name the positions. Ask him if he thought the pitches were balls or strikes. Ask him to point to the fly ball. Engage him, don’t placate him. You’ll both be glad you did. For years and years and years.

SALUTES to my newspaper delivery person: It doesn’t go unnoticed that you put my newspaper in two protective sleeves on days you think it will rain. For those of us who still enjoy the ritual of a cup of coffee and the daily miracle of newsprint to start our days, a perfectly dry newspaper during a downpour is not something I take for granted. This is why we tip big at Christmas. You rock.

HOOTS the the 16-year-old cutie who was texting while driving and running over the road-turtles and coming dangerously close to my car: Look, I know it’s a part of your life, but when you’re driving a 4,500 pound machine, we need you focused. If for no other reason that you stay a 16-year-old cutie. However, you gotta admit you’re not quite experienced enough to pull off what you’re trying to pull off. And I know your parents probably do it, too. So let’s all put the phones in the glove box or the armrest compartment and pay attention to what we’re doing. Try to remember that safety of you and others is more important than telling whoever whatever it is you thought was so important.

HOOTS to a few potential employers: When we have a great conversation on the phone and you tell me you’re going to check my blog, Facebook page and such after we hang up, please at least send me an e-mail to let me know you’re not interested. It’s just rude to say nothing…for a month and still counting. Look, I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I know that my resume has over two decades of what you’re looking for. But I’d also venture to say that over two decades of ministry and 15 years in one spot might say a little more than some tattoos and long hair…which are not at symbolizing anything you might think they are (just ask, okay?). And, yes, I get that we might not be a “fit,” which I’m okay with, but an e-mail (at least) is common courtesy, no? Same for folks who get resumes, a form e-mail saying you got it and will review it and get back to me seems appropriate. I’m not letting you off the hook for common courtesy just because you love Jesus.

SALUTES to my daughters: I’m constantly amazed by both of you, for entirely different reasons. The universe knew what it was doing when it gave me nothing but daughters and watching you both go the way you’re both supposed to be going makes me smile whenever I think about it. You’re both wonderful enigmas that make being a student of you fun while at the same time making me proud beyond words. Stuff from this weekend reminded me about that reality.

HOOTS to Dallas Area Rapid Transit: You know that raising rates and charging people for parking in your lot (after a decade of free parking) is not the way to increase ridership, right? I’m precisely the guy that wants to use public transportation, and when you charge me and my family $2 to park, $4 per person for a day-pass, well, I can get downtown and park in 3/4 the time and for half as much money taking my car. Here’s an idea with gas prices climbing: Cut prices in half and see if your ridership doubles or triples.

HOOTS to all my friends who tell me that your company leaves tickets to baseball games unused in somebody’s drawer at work: Stop doing that. Grab some and let’s go.

SALUTES to the folks who made P90X and Insanity: Thanks so much for helping me get in shape…35 pounds lost from P90X and 7 more from Insanity with one week to go. Sure, your instructors are kind of hokey, but that has been money well-spent in our family.

SALUTES to my friends and family who have been so supportive to me while I try to figure some things out. Every time I turn around, the people closest to me are encouraging me with insights and kind words at precisely the right time. Even when it seems my ability to tune-in to the Holy Spirit is at ebb-tide you people show me you care or want the best for me. Trust me when I say the process is difficult as it lies, but without you people willing to let me ask hard questions that require you to say difficult things to me (or when I ask easy questions that let you say fun things to me), well, I don’t know how I’d do it. I’m getting to a point where I’d really appreciate resolution and you guys are so helpful in making sure I get His resolution rather than any old resolution. But it’s fun dreaming with you folks, that’s for sure.

So, patrons, what HOOTS or SALUTES do you have for us?

Kind Of A Review Of “Blue Like Jazz” Movie

Tags

Movies

It’s difficult to write reviews of anything.

First, there’s personal preference. Some folks who like opera might not like country music. Some folks who like intimate clubs might not like the same singer in a basketball arena. Some who like romance novels might not like a spy thriller. You get the idea.

Second, there’s the definition of “good.” I mean, the Ramones could be a good punk band but not excellent musicians. A great horror movie might not have great cinematography or acting. A good beach-read won’t ever be studied in a university setting. You get the idea.

Lastly, there’s the issue of what you expect out of the art. If you’re in the mood for a museum, or an arena-rock concert, or a history book, or whatever, and you get whatever the opposites are of each of those things, you’re likely to be disappointed. If you were hoping to look at a Van Gogh and wound up at the Hard Rock Cafe, it affects your perception of the event.

All of those things come into play when you go see a movie like Blue Like Jazz.

For the uninitiated, the movie is based on Donald Miller’s NYTimes best-seller about his spiritual journey. Like many of us, he began to question his Bible-belt upbringing and wrote a series of essays about that experience. Like many of us, his journey has highs, lows, redemption, unresolved questions, firmly entrenched beliefs reinforced, etc.

Naturally, the movie will have elements of all those things.

The first thing I’d tell you about the movie is that I went in with very low expectations. I mean, let’s be honest. Our Tribe has a long history of absolutely terrible movies. Poorly written. Heavy-handed & preachy. Predictable. What nobody wants to talk about is that these are all made to make money and use the Tribe to get on buses, buy group tickets and make cash but use the guise of “ministry” or “wholesome entertainment” to do it. Often, we’re guilted into going to “support them so they can make more art.” Well, I’ve been burned enough to be wary. You have, too, even if you don’t want to say it out loud.

Thankfully, this was a pleasant surprise. The movie is well-written…so much so that it seems very disciplined to stick to film-school 101. The characters grow and develop. The scenes were filmed well, especially those filmed in Portland. The acting is good, too…especially Don & Penny. The character Lauren is good, too, as is the student who plays the “Pope” of Reed College. Overall, very pleased with the “art” and you won’t have to worry about being “burned” by desire to teach some lesson over creativity/artistic merit.

In fact, some of my favorite moments were because of the art. Subtleties. Like right after Don “betrays” his beliefs, the morning after he’s awakened by a rooster crowing three times. The changes in bumper-sticker slogans in Houston and Portland. The culture changes highlighted on a wall in the student cafe where it’s okay to “come out of the closet” but Don is warned that it’s dangerous to “come out” as a Christian. There really are too many to mention.

The only caution I’d have is to know what you’re getting into if you go. I read the book when it first came out, enjoyed the writing even in disagreement, and even recommended that our church bookstore buy copies in bulk so folks could get their hands on it. What I found was that it made people uncomfortable…asking questions about whether or not it’s important to have political affiliations if you’re Christian, questioning ministry methods of churches, finding absurdities in the Christian subculture, the whole deal. The older people that read it seemed to range from “I don’t get it” to “He’s so negative and too critical of the Church.” But it was all right there in the subtitle: “Non-religious thoughts on Christian spirituality.”

The reality is that the book resonated with anyone Gen-X and younger. Don asked the questions we all seemed to be asking in one form or another. In some cases he answered. In some cases they were unresolved (like jazz…get it?). In some cases I think Don answered incorrectly (like the chapter on tithing) and in some cases he hit the nail on the head (like the nature of discipleship in church being information based and centered on disciplines like quiet times rather than life-on-life)…but the ideas certainly get conversation going which is why I think young people ate it up. My students certainly did.

The movie is one that will make you think. In fact, it almost tries too hard to raise questions that you don’t have time to actually do that, and by the time the movie is over, the brain is jumbled with so many things you wanted to remember and couldn’t. There are so many moments I wanted to pause the movie, pour some coffee, and have group discussions with the whole theater. There are a lot of things to take in…just like the book.

So, that’s my advice: Be in the mood to think, and maybe even a little bit offended (and I’m not talking about the cussing, kids, I’m talking about your sensibilities), before you plunk down your $9. Maybe take a note pad. Write down some quotes. Go with friends. Have deep discussion afterward. It’s the kind of movie that will let you do all those things.

And, yes, it’s entertaining along the way, too. Some funny things happen at Reed College (allegedly one of the most anti-Christian universities in the States) and you’ll care about Don, Penny, Lauren and “the Pope” and what happens to them.

But it’s a thinking movie. And thinking is hard work.

Do the work.

You won’t regret it.

And you may learn something about yourself, and your spiritual journey, and what you really believe along the way.

Here’s the trailer to whet your apetite:

Something Has Gone Very Wrong

Tags

Mind Vitamins, Missional, Personal Journey

Newsweek Magazine “The Daily Beast” On-Line.

First, here’s the cover, just to get your mind working:

So much of what I’ve been trying to say here at The Diner over the years has been said succinctly and eloquently by Andrew Sullivan. And here’s a quote to show you just how succinctly and eloquently he’s nailed the issues:

All of which is to say something so obvious it is almost taboo: Christianity itself is in crisis. It seems no accident to me that so many Christians now embrace materialist self-help rather than ascetic self-denial—or that most Catholics, even regular churchgoers, have tuned out the hierarchy in embarrassment or disgust. Given this crisis, it is no surprise that the fastest-growing segment of belief among the young is atheism, which has leapt in popularity in the new millennium. Nor is it a shock that so many have turned away from organized Christianity and toward “spirituality,” co-opting or adapting the practices of meditation or yoga, or wandering as lapsed Catholics in an inquisitive spiritual desert. The thirst for God is still there. How could it not be, when the profoundest human questions—Why does the universe exist rather than nothing? How did humanity come to be on this remote blue speck of a planet? What happens to us after death?—remain as pressing and mysterious as they’ve always been?

And, here’s a quote to highlight the beginnings of a solution of sorts:

This Christianity comes not from the head or the gut, but from the soul. It is as meek as it is quietly liberating. It does not seize the moment; it lets it be. It doesn’t seek worldly recognition, or success, and it flees from power and wealth. It is the religion of unachievement. And it is not afraid. In the anxious, crammed lives of our modern twittering souls, in the materialist obsessions we cling to for security in recession, in a world where sectarian extremism threatens to unleash mass destruction, this sheer Christianity, seeking truth without the expectation of resolution, simply living each day doing what we can to fulfill God’s will, is more vital than ever. It may, in fact, be the only spiritual transformation that can in the end transcend the nagging emptiness of our late-capitalist lives, or the cult of distracting contemporaneity, or the threat of apocalyptic war where Jesus once walked. You see attempts to find this everywhere—from experimental spirituality to resurgent fundamentalism. Something inside is telling us we need radical spiritual change.

You can read the entire article from “The Daily Beast” here.

It’ll get your brain engaged, for sure…

…and what I’d like to hear from all of you is this: What does this “look” like day-to-day, moment-by-moment? What would we have to change in order to make all this happen on a personal level? A “corporate” level?

Have at it, patrons!

You Know, Cheers Was On To Something…

I remember my first visit to Alkmaar, The Netherlands. It’s a town of nearly 100,000 people located north of Amsterdam, just up A9. It’s known mostly for cheeses, Olympic cycling, and the fact that John Lennon’s first guitar was made there. To give my Texas friends a bit of deeper understanding/identity, they defeated the Spaniards who were laying siege to their city in the 1500’s…in effect, winning their “Alamo.” To give them still more understanding/identity, a very large beer museum is there, too.

Our hosts had procured the bicycles we’d need for the three-week stay and as they were giving us the general tour I made note of the narrow/tall nature of the homes and even the streets. I got a story about the Dutch national soccer team and how they’re known for a very controlled & tight passing game that requires discipline, and the reason all the players are very comfortable with opponents close to them is because they learn how to play in the streets…which are all narrow. So, the architecture of the cities (which are all on high limited higher grounds as the country is below sea-level) affects the lifestyle of the country even to the style of play in sport.

Not long after that, I learned that housing space is limited so all the houses are thin and taller…and generally it would be hard to host a party if more than 6 or 8 people were there. I also learned that most folks didn’t spend many evenings in their homes. Again, architecture & city planning affects the lifestyle of the country.

I noted that every evening after dinner folks would get out of their homes and head to either the parks with friends, a local pub or the town square. And their town square is a true town square. It is about the size of a football field with, in their case, the Cheese Market on one side, a canal on the other, and restaurants/clubs on the other two. Branching out from that hub is a series of places to grab ice cream or tea or pie all along the side streets.

Any given summer night you’d see entire families hanging out in the square (laden with tables and park benches–some reserved for restaurant patrons but most were open to whoever wanted them), the moms laughing and chatting about the day, the kids eating ice cream or playing with their toys, the dads arguing sports, teenagers in clumps waiting for the dance club to open. Old men playing chess, old ladies making fun of their old husbands both behind their back and to their faces. But “community” happened and it was driven by architecture & planning. First, because the homes were comparatively small so you kinda wanted to get out after the dinner dishes were put away, and secondly there was a welcoming hub to grab a beverage of choice and you could visit until you wanted to go to bed. It lit up well at night, too.

Even in our short 3-week stay, we began to chat with locals who recognized us and asked us about life in America and how we liked Holland. Small talk, in most cases, but you’d be amazed at how animated they’d get when they discovered that on that day in Texas it was 35 degrees Celsius (roughly 104 F) or how 16-year-olds all drove a car (the age is 18 in Holland, and it’s very expensive to get a license). They had all watched COPS and knew enough about Texas to ask if we all owned guns. But every night we’d head down to the square and find ourselves conversing or playing a game of pick-up ball at the park or whatever.

Sociologists are studying the lack of “informal public life” in post-war America. See, prior to World War II, the United States, by and large had this informal public life that took place on Main Street in any given town. There were drug stores the kids could go to that had a “fountain” where you could get shakes and maybe a burger. There was a hair salon or barber shop. You could grab a beer at the one bar in town. America had thriving small to mid-size towns where these informal public gatherings took place. Houses had front porches. You knew your neighbors because you saw them. Architecture and design of the cities provided the informal get-togethers that made life enjoyable.

One sociologist, Ray Oldenburg, described it this way:

The typical suburban home is easy to leave behind as it’s occupants move to another…there are no sad farewells at the local taverns or the corner store because there are no local taverns or corner stores. Indeed, there is often more encouragement to leave a given subdivision than to stay in it, for neither the homes nor the neighborhoods are equipped to see families or individuals through the cycle of life. Each is designed for families of particular sizes, incomes and ages. There is little sense of place and even less opportunity to put down roots.

What that means is that you don’t make friends by happenstance in the ebb and flow of life. You likely move out of one neighborhood into the next once you get the raise/promotion. You don’t have a gathering spot where you can bump into folks you know. Seeing friends has to be a prearranged deal. Oldenburg says, “A lively round of after-dinner conversation isn’t as simple as a walk to the corner pub, one has to host the dinner.”

There’s also a look at the architecture that isolates us: No front porch, garages in the front, 8-foot privacy fences, etc. Add to that the nature of our lifestyles that almost forces us to cocoon as we left home at 6AM to get to the job in the city and rolled in after a tough traffic drive at 6:30PM and we can get whatever movie or sport or entertainment options from our media room and never have to leave our house. And city planning hasn’t really helped, either. I mean, where do you go in Flower Mound if you don’t want to spend more than a few bucks (if any) but want to get out of the house?

This is where my thoughts have been driving me lately. I think our area needs a viable “3rd Space.” More on that in a second.

I can see pockets of “Main Street” in my suburb. Mostly, it takes place at little league parks or soccer fields through organized athletics. Sociologists have called the line-up of folding Wal-Mart chairs watching their kids practice as “America’s New Front Porch.” I’ve also seen it in subdivision designs, where they actually build a community pool and maybe a clubhouse. Our town tries with an area called Parker Square where they host some movie nights and such. And, yes, we have a Starbucks where you can gather with friends over a cup of coffee…and a barista might know your name/drink order. But even in those cases, you still generally have to call someone to meet you there.

And, obviously, there are churches that provide some levels of that community. But that seems driven by a particular night/day (usually Wednesdays and Sundays) and also into segments. Maybe there’s a class you’re taking while your kid is in the children’s deal. Or a mom’s group. Or a men’s small group. Teenagers. Senior citizens. So, while there’s some degree of community it’s often more formal than informal.

Most of you know that I’ve been bouncing this idea of informal community around. I mean, we all loved the idea behind the show “Cheers,” what is called a “3rd space”–besides home & work–where you can go and hang out with friends over a beer or soda and stay a while…

…and what I’d like to know from you…

…is what are the elements that would make up a “3rd Space” that you would go to frequently? A place where you could go by yourself and feel confident there would be at least one person you would know or run into that you could catch up with each and every time you stopped by. Some suggestions might be simple, like comfy chairs. Or no TV’s anywhere (or maybe one that’s brought out for the Ranger’s game or Super Bowl or whatever ONLY) with background music just loud enough to keep others from hearing it. Free Wi-Fi. $1 snacks/sodas. Other ideas might be nuanced, like a weekly champagne brunch, or a good selection of beers/scotch/whiskey/cigars. Open mike nights, or local garage band nights, or high school chamber ensembles. Poetry readings or art shows. Stuff like that.

So, if there was ONE “3rd Space” that you’d call your very own, what would you want to be like? What would the vibe be like? Is it even realistic?

Well, have at it, patrons!

It’s That Time Again

Tags

Baseball, Movies

I don’t know if I’ve ever discussed this in detail here at The Diner.

But I made a mental note to do so when Kid1 relayed this story to me. Apparently, she and her gaggle of friends had seen a preview for the upcoming 3D release of the movie Titanic. Each of the girls made some comment about their favorite scenes or memories of that award-winning movie and asked my daughter hers. Her response? “I’ve never seen it. In my house, me and my dad watched baseball movies together.”

Kid1 was referring to the reality that, each and every year around this time, I’d take my parenting responsibility to pass the love for the Great Game on to the next generation. We’d pile up with microwave popcorn on the nights leading up to baseball season and watch my favorite baseball movies As they grew older, I let the ratings expand as I could add some of them to the menu.

That little tradition has faded as our life has changed with Kid1 moved out and Kid2 decidedly NOT into baseball on the level where she’d invest a week getting emotionally ready for 8 months of baseball season grind by watching movies. I consider it a victory that she’s found a clothing line from an underwear retailer that makes t-shirts with our team’s logo on them that have kinda-baseball/kinda-suggestive sayings on the back. For example, one pink ladies-cut t-shirt has the Rangers logo and glittery stuff around it with the phrase, “Caught Looking” as she walks away. Still, I’ll take it, as she’s moved past going to the games and wanting to leave as soon as the cooler of snacks was emptied in the 4th inning.

Anyway, I forgot my movie-watching ritual until last night I was searching the channel guide and one of them was on.

So, here’s the list of movies I watch annually to get geared up for the season and the order in which I watch them…saving the best for last:

Day 7: The Sandlot. Still love this one.
Day 6: The Bad News Bears. Tanner, the smart-mouthed shortstop, is one of my favorites.
Day 5: A League of Their Own. There’s no crying in baseball. And, if you have daughters, you gotta watch this one, but I like it.
Day 4: For Love of the Game. Clear the mechanism. Might be the most underrated baseball movie.
Day 3: The Natural. Kid1 loved it that she recognized the movie’s music the first time one of our players hit a home run and it came over the loudspeakers.
Day 2: Bull Durham. The speech Crash Davis gives Annie about what he believes is priceless. When he leaves the rookie Nuke at her apartment with the parting shot, “See ya at the yard, Meat” it’s even funnier.
Day 1: Field of Dreams. James Earl Jones soliloquy on baseball is beautiful, but I’m always drawn to the storyline of the dynamic between son and father and how a game of catch is really all you need/want sometimes.

Sure, I left off Major League (tons of people love it, but I always thought stunk, anyway), Eight Men Out (makes me too sad to think that guys would throw a World Series for money) and Pride of the Yankees (I loathe the romanticism about the Yankees, and how can you take a movie where the actor who plays Lou Gehrig bats right-handed seriously?)…but you gotta cut the list somewhere. And, for sure, this season I intend to add Moneyball.

So, today’s topic: Does your family have must-see movies that you make a point to sit down and watch together? What are they? What do you love about them?