Today is Wednesday. It is also the last Wednesday I will be employed by my church. Tomorrow is the last Thursday. Friday is the last Friday. Saturday is… well, you get the idea. This is my last week of work. It’s the last few days until I launch out into this next chapter in my life, whatever that might just happen to be. There is certainly a degree of sadness over all that I’ll be losing—the closeness of a lot of relationships, the ability to help lead a church that I love and that I had a hand in building and shaping, and so many other things. There is also a degree of excitement for whatever the future holds. And then there’s the vomiting. Ok, not real, actual, up-from-the-insides vomiting. Just the kind of stress and worry and “holy crap, I don’t have a job!” sorts of things that make me want to vomit… figuratively speaking, of course.
So, I need a job. And, honestly, I have some concerns about finding one, or at least finding one that will allow me to use my skills/talents/gifts in a way that is even remotely fulfilling. I have concerns about prospective employers understanding how my experience could possibly translate into the “real world.” And, I have concerns about being pigeonholed as a religious fruitcake. I can just imagine an HR person scanning my resume. BS in Business Administration. "Oh, that’s good." Good GPA, graduated in three years! “Oh, excellent.” Masters of Divinity? “What the heck is that?” Eight and a half years working in churches? “Whoa! Heck no!” Then I picture them channeling the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld and screaming, “No job for you!”
I’ve done a lot of talking over the last couple of months about living with radical obedience to Christ and being willing to take major steps of faith without knowing where they lead, and even as I was making the decisions that would force me to step out in faith in a way I hadn’t before, I had a total peace about it all. In fact, for quite a while my lack of freaking out actually freaked me out a little. Ahem. *dramatic pause* Yeah, that was then; this is now. More specifically, that was when I was still working and still drawing a paycheck. This is when I have less than a week to work and one last, single, solitary, lone paycheck coming, after which there will be no more. So, for all of my lack of freaking out over the past few months, I guess I’m making up for it this week. Oh, and then my little friend Doubt has been cuddling up next to me pretty regularly, also. He's quite the faithful companion. “What are you thinking?” he sneers. “What do you possibly have to offer?” he jeers. “You will never be anything!” he taunts. What a great friend, huh?
And I’m thinking, “I’m dealing with all of this junk already, and I’m not even done working yet! What’s it going to be like in two weeks? A month?” Ugh! How shallow is the faith pool I'm swimming in?
So I’ve been reminding myself, “You made this decision for the right reasons—because personal integrity and stewardship made it practical, and because obedience to Christ made it necessary.” And that makes me feel like a little less of an idiot, but it doesn’t make me feel any more employed. And in case you didn’t know, feeling like a little less of an idiot doesn’t pay very well.
But…
Even in the midst of the doubt and frustration, I know that God hasn’t called me to do this for nothing, so he must have a plan. And however big or small that plan might seem, it is HIS plan, and I want to be in on it. So even as I whine and mope and doubt…
I believe Him.
I trust Him.
I wait for Him.
And I put my life in His hands.
Do you ever struggle with doubt (or anything else) that tries to put a put out the fire that God has lit in you?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Church Growth 101, Jesus Style
As a pastor I’m constantly bombarded with information about how to get my church to grow. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I believe God wants churches to grow, because it’s kind of hard for a church to be very successful at reaching people far from God and not grow, and statistics show that the Church in the West has been stagnant or in decline for some time now, meaning we need all the help we can get. But as I dig into Scripture I’m intrigued by the method of church growth Jesus seemed to model.
If Jesus had a three step plan for growing the Church, it might have looked something like this: Step 1. Say lots of crazy, painfully honest things that make lots of religious people (i.e. the ones who would seem most interested in all things churchy) mad enough to kill you. Step 2. Say lots of crazy, painfully honest things that make most of the irreligious people run the other way like Roadrunner busting it when Wile E. Coyote was in hot pursuit. Step 3. Watch the ragtag handful of nobodies (and believe me, I mean that in the most affectionate way possible), who were passionately devoted in spite of the hardships, grow through the Spirit’s power like rabbits on fertility drugs into a massive movement that is still going strong after a couple thousand years. Check out some of these passages: Luke 12:33, Luke 9:59-62, and Matthew 10:37.
I know what you’re thinking. Surely Jesus didn’t mean for us to take those statements seriously! No way he would really expect any of his followers to leave behind the most important people in their lives to follow him. And that whole bit about selling your possessions and giving the money to the poor? That’s just silly. Nobody would actually do that. Jesus would never ask that from us!
Or would he?
Hmm. What if he really DID mean those things? What if he really WAS serious? What if he had EVERY INTENTION of us living our lives with that kind of radical passion and devotion and obedience?
If hearing those words grates on your ears like the sound of 42,328 sets of fingernails scraping their way down a giant chalkboard, you are not alone. The ears of most of our fellow Americans are ringing in harmony with yours… and, ahem, mine. We don’t like to consider the possibility that Jesus really did maybe, kinda, in a manner of speaking mean what he said… a little… maybe.
Something I’ve been realizing more and more over the past couple of years is just how much thought and work we put into trying to make the Gospel of Jesus Christ more easily digestible. Like running a gristly piece of meat through a tenderizer, we take what Jesus said, run in through the filter of our 21st century American way of seeing the world, and end up with a nice little Americanized version of the Gospel. The only problem with that, though, is… well, what we end up with isn’t really the Gospel at all at that point. But hey, at least it’s tender.
My recent trip to the other side of the world has really opened my eyes to this even farther. Why was it so eye opening? Well, because the brothers and sisters in Christ I got to know there haven’t been domesticated and indoctrinated by the 21st century American version of the Good News (that Jesus loves you and longs to be the missing piece to your American dream without requiring much of anything from you other than nominal church attendance and dropping a few bills in the basket). They never got the memo that Jesus didn’t really mean those things he said, so they are *gasp* living as if he was serious. They don’t try to decipher what Jesus really meant or explain away the harsh, radical nature of Jesus’ teaching. They just live as if the Kingdom of God really is the most important thing there is, worthy of giving up everything for. If only they were more educated, right? Seriously, I’m sure they have their fair share of struggles and plenty of areas where they are weak, but I am amazed by their faith and passion and dedication. Far from a tenderized, easily digestible version of the Gospel, they teach it and live it in all its radical, counter-cultural, everything-must-change-ness. And you know what the result is? The Church is experiencing incredible growth. Kind of like when Jesus tried it back in the day.
If Jesus had a three step plan for growing the Church, it might have looked something like this: Step 1. Say lots of crazy, painfully honest things that make lots of religious people (i.e. the ones who would seem most interested in all things churchy) mad enough to kill you. Step 2. Say lots of crazy, painfully honest things that make most of the irreligious people run the other way like Roadrunner busting it when Wile E. Coyote was in hot pursuit. Step 3. Watch the ragtag handful of nobodies (and believe me, I mean that in the most affectionate way possible), who were passionately devoted in spite of the hardships, grow through the Spirit’s power like rabbits on fertility drugs into a massive movement that is still going strong after a couple thousand years. Check out some of these passages: Luke 12:33, Luke 9:59-62, and Matthew 10:37.
I know what you’re thinking. Surely Jesus didn’t mean for us to take those statements seriously! No way he would really expect any of his followers to leave behind the most important people in their lives to follow him. And that whole bit about selling your possessions and giving the money to the poor? That’s just silly. Nobody would actually do that. Jesus would never ask that from us!
Or would he?
Hmm. What if he really DID mean those things? What if he really WAS serious? What if he had EVERY INTENTION of us living our lives with that kind of radical passion and devotion and obedience?
If hearing those words grates on your ears like the sound of 42,328 sets of fingernails scraping their way down a giant chalkboard, you are not alone. The ears of most of our fellow Americans are ringing in harmony with yours… and, ahem, mine. We don’t like to consider the possibility that Jesus really did maybe, kinda, in a manner of speaking mean what he said… a little… maybe.
Something I’ve been realizing more and more over the past couple of years is just how much thought and work we put into trying to make the Gospel of Jesus Christ more easily digestible. Like running a gristly piece of meat through a tenderizer, we take what Jesus said, run in through the filter of our 21st century American way of seeing the world, and end up with a nice little Americanized version of the Gospel. The only problem with that, though, is… well, what we end up with isn’t really the Gospel at all at that point. But hey, at least it’s tender.
My recent trip to the other side of the world has really opened my eyes to this even farther. Why was it so eye opening? Well, because the brothers and sisters in Christ I got to know there haven’t been domesticated and indoctrinated by the 21st century American version of the Good News (that Jesus loves you and longs to be the missing piece to your American dream without requiring much of anything from you other than nominal church attendance and dropping a few bills in the basket). They never got the memo that Jesus didn’t really mean those things he said, so they are *gasp* living as if he was serious. They don’t try to decipher what Jesus really meant or explain away the harsh, radical nature of Jesus’ teaching. They just live as if the Kingdom of God really is the most important thing there is, worthy of giving up everything for. If only they were more educated, right? Seriously, I’m sure they have their fair share of struggles and plenty of areas where they are weak, but I am amazed by their faith and passion and dedication. Far from a tenderized, easily digestible version of the Gospel, they teach it and live it in all its radical, counter-cultural, everything-must-change-ness. And you know what the result is? The Church is experiencing incredible growth. Kind of like when Jesus tried it back in the day.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
A good dose of perspective...
It’s a little after 5:00 AM. I’ve been up since 3:30 and sleep is escaping me. I guess that’s the price I pay for taking a six hour nap, staying up for two hours, and going to bed at 9:00 PM. Ugh! Jetlag! Oh well.
Being as tired as I am from the exhausting trip home (being awake for 48 straights hours and on a plane for about 24 of those tends to affect you in ways you can't imagine unless you've experienced it), I still haven’t had time to process a lot of what I experienced in MM. Truthfully, I think it will take weeks and even months to fully process it. There are a few things on the top of my mind, though, and one is about perspective.
That’s what I have received over the past couple of weeks… a much needed dose of perspective (and several much needed doses of Doxycycline, but that’s just a preventative measure!) One of the thoughts that I’m been ruminating on over the last several days is about fairness. We are so quick to think “That’s not fair” any time something doesn’t go our way or any time someone has something we don’t have. We think somehow we have a right to virtually anything we can dream of, and that if we don’t have it, we are being shortchanged.
When I was in MM, though, I quickly noticed that almost nothing was fair for me. Time and time again I found myself flat out angry over how unfair things were for me. There were so many times when I’ve wanted to shout out, “THAT ISN’T FAIR!” And I would have been justified in doing so, becuase the truth is, a lot of things weren’t fair for me. The difference, though, is that I typically found myself on the opposite side of the fairness equation from where I normally am when I feel this since of injustice. Since I landed in MM, I’ve been thinking…
Well, it's 5:47 AM. I think it's time for a nap!
Being as tired as I am from the exhausting trip home (being awake for 48 straights hours and on a plane for about 24 of those tends to affect you in ways you can't imagine unless you've experienced it), I still haven’t had time to process a lot of what I experienced in MM. Truthfully, I think it will take weeks and even months to fully process it. There are a few things on the top of my mind, though, and one is about perspective.
That’s what I have received over the past couple of weeks… a much needed dose of perspective (and several much needed doses of Doxycycline, but that’s just a preventative measure!) One of the thoughts that I’m been ruminating on over the last several days is about fairness. We are so quick to think “That’s not fair” any time something doesn’t go our way or any time someone has something we don’t have. We think somehow we have a right to virtually anything we can dream of, and that if we don’t have it, we are being shortchanged.
When I was in MM, though, I quickly noticed that almost nothing was fair for me. Time and time again I found myself flat out angry over how unfair things were for me. There were so many times when I’ve wanted to shout out, “THAT ISN’T FAIR!” And I would have been justified in doing so, becuase the truth is, a lot of things weren’t fair for me. The difference, though, is that I typically found myself on the opposite side of the fairness equation from where I normally am when I feel this since of injustice. Since I landed in MM, I’ve been thinking…
- It’s not fair that I got to eat these incredible, filling meals with meat, vegetables, rice, soup, and about half the time, ice cream for dessert. I have more food than I can eat while many people in MM and many other countries don’t. Most are happy to have a little white rice to fill their stomachs... for breakfast, lunch, and dinner... if they are lucky. I’m embarrassed by how much I take that for granted.
- It’s not fair that I have so many clothes that I can think about being color coordinated and somewhat in style (I realize my sense of style is subjective. Make of it what you will!) while many people in the world, and in MM, are simply happy to have something to wear.
- It’s not fair that I spent more on souvenirs (reasoning that as inexpensive as things are, how could I not get one more item) than the average MM worker makes in a month.
- It’s not fair that simply happening to be born in one country as opposed to another is the biggest deciding factor on your chance of having a job and making a livable wage, the quality of healthcare you receive, your chances of dying of an easily-preventable disease, your chances of experiencing true hunger, and so many other really important things. Poor people don't tend to give a crap about half the things that consume the thoughts of most of the people reading this blog (all six of you) myself included.
There are so many things that simply aren’t fair, and to be honest, I’m struggling to make sense of it. If I put together every last dollar I have to allow all of the amazing, humble, generous, full-of-life, kids and adults I saw everyday on my trip to enjoy a good meal, it would be a nice gesture, but would anything really be gained in the long run? Would it do anything at all to reduce poverty or end hunger on a bigger scale? If I gave away all of my clothes, I’m sure those who received them would be appreciative, what would anything be gained long term? Would the fairness equation be any more balanced?
The more I think about it, I guess maybe the key is sustainability. Clearly, food and clothing and many other needs must be met in the short term. I guess that is where foreign aid from governments as well as churches and other non-profits comes into play. Along with that aid, though, there must be a plan to work towards sustainability apart from the aid. That is where so many of us who feel passionate about helping others fail. We want to drop in and have an experience, do a little here and there, or throw money at a problem we see, but we often stop short of true investment in people and/or projects, so things quickly go back to how they were before.
One of the things that most excites me about the work that is going on in MM through the network I worked with, though, is that even as they meet the very real and critical short-term needs, they are also working towards long-term sustainability. The short term needs are being met, but with long-term bigger picture needs in mind. From an outsiders point of view, it seems like some great things are happening, too! Oh, and as those humanitarian needs are being met, the Church is growing as well… and that is truly something to be excited about.
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