How strange to leave this foreign, distant place only to emerge in a few hours in another foreign, distant place. A wisp of the concept of "home" remains. More an ideal or a construct than a reality. It involves: red walls, my king size bed, picking strawberries at the hatch-patch with Aunt Mabel, Shirley's Sweet Tea, two-weak old borscht, my procession of Oldsmobiles, Vassya cat, and spaghetti with a glass full of milk - redsauce lip stains on the glass.
I would only be an architect if I knew I could design an airport.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday
I don't have anything today.
I'm back from Thailand.
Perhaps when I get back to my computer I will see this content free blog and be inspired, but at this moment ... I've got nothing.
I've had a really rough week. I'm just praying that I can forget any of it happened while I'm on vacation. Maybe I'll write about how that effort went.
I'm back from Thailand.
Perhaps when I get back to my computer I will see this content free blog and be inspired, but at this moment ... I've got nothing.
I've had a really rough week. I'm just praying that I can forget any of it happened while I'm on vacation. Maybe I'll write about how that effort went.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday - Emergent Missions
I'm a big fan of missions. I would probably put myself in the camp that "missions is life blood of the church." I'm a missionary. I finally feel free to say that. It's like, now that I'm being paid to be here I'm officially a missionary.
So that's the first part of the problem. Mission is such a foreign concept that we create an "us" and "them" mentality. "He's a missionary, I just go to church on Sunday." Now, here's a distinction ... I hate it when people say, "We're all missionaries." Because that's a lie and we're all aware of that fact. We might all be called to mission, but not everyone on the membership roll is a missionary. Some are anti-missionary; even some active members are essentially anti-missionary. They work daily in their lives and ministries to turn people away from the Gospel. It's (usually) not intentional ... but it's a reality.
The Emergent church needs to recapture the heartbeat of mission. Remember when I wrote two lengthy posts about membership and community? I wrote that we don't like membership but that we want to be challenged. This is the challenge. We confirm our commitment to the church of Jesus Christ, not by signing a membership form, but by living out the communal call to tell others the good news. This is the goal - to supplant membership with something far better: community.
If you put two adult elephants in a room for a year to mate, how many elephants will there be after that year? 3. The two original and the baby. If you put two adult rabbits in a room for a year to mate, how many rabbits will there be after that year? Thousands. The established church must be intentional in planting churches without weighing them down with rules, regulations, structures, etc. We must be willing to offer everything we as a church have to the new movement, but allow them the discretion to take what they will and leave the rest.
When modern writers, reporters, and questioners get a Post-modern leader in a room for an hour, the inevitable questions come up. What does the emergent church think about abortion, gay marriage, the green movement, etc. Once a church puts an answer to a highly-divisive issue, the number of possible converts gets cut in half. If we say YES to gay marriage half the population will dismiss us from the get go. If we say NO, the other half will leave us in the dust. I'm not saying these issues aren't important; they're just less important for us and our movement.
The modern mindset needs definitive answers. The Postmodern generation is more okay with grey areas. Let's make a church where both sides of the issue are worshipping together and see if the issue is still more important than unity. It probably won't be.
Recap :: Reclaim heartbeat of mission. Keep it simple. Don't let modern struggles and arguments define the new postmodern church.
So that's the first part of the problem. Mission is such a foreign concept that we create an "us" and "them" mentality. "He's a missionary, I just go to church on Sunday." Now, here's a distinction ... I hate it when people say, "We're all missionaries." Because that's a lie and we're all aware of that fact. We might all be called to mission, but not everyone on the membership roll is a missionary. Some are anti-missionary; even some active members are essentially anti-missionary. They work daily in their lives and ministries to turn people away from the Gospel. It's (usually) not intentional ... but it's a reality.
The Emergent church needs to recapture the heartbeat of mission. Remember when I wrote two lengthy posts about membership and community? I wrote that we don't like membership but that we want to be challenged. This is the challenge. We confirm our commitment to the church of Jesus Christ, not by signing a membership form, but by living out the communal call to tell others the good news. This is the goal - to supplant membership with something far better: community.
If you put two adult elephants in a room for a year to mate, how many elephants will there be after that year? 3. The two original and the baby. If you put two adult rabbits in a room for a year to mate, how many rabbits will there be after that year? Thousands. The established church must be intentional in planting churches without weighing them down with rules, regulations, structures, etc. We must be willing to offer everything we as a church have to the new movement, but allow them the discretion to take what they will and leave the rest.
When modern writers, reporters, and questioners get a Post-modern leader in a room for an hour, the inevitable questions come up. What does the emergent church think about abortion, gay marriage, the green movement, etc. Once a church puts an answer to a highly-divisive issue, the number of possible converts gets cut in half. If we say YES to gay marriage half the population will dismiss us from the get go. If we say NO, the other half will leave us in the dust. I'm not saying these issues aren't important; they're just less important for us and our movement.
The modern mindset needs definitive answers. The Postmodern generation is more okay with grey areas. Let's make a church where both sides of the issue are worshipping together and see if the issue is still more important than unity. It probably won't be.
Recap :: Reclaim heartbeat of mission. Keep it simple. Don't let modern struggles and arguments define the new postmodern church.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Regina Spektor
Eric Park mentioned this song in his blog. He does the song more justice than I would. I love Regina Spektor, and I'm so captivated by the fact that this song manages to discuss God and religion without sounding cheesy/hokey. Take a lesson Christian Music execs!
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane start to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say we got some bad news, sir
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
*Chorus*
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very
poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday (I'm taking a break from the emergent thread)
God still uses deserts.
Koreans, by their very culture and nature, love Korea. Most love Korea, Korean culture, the Korean language, and Kimchi (spicy, fermented cabbage ... I know, right?) to a fault. Korea can do no wrong, and no country compares to the beauty and sanctity of Korea.
Korea is truly a beautiful country. It seems that every small city has its roots in a small village/community way of life. Mountains separate the valleys - where people live.
God has always been on the mountains. Moses climbed the mountain to meet God. Korean pastors climb prayer mountain when church finances are tight. Buddhist temples are tucked away in the mountains. People live in the valleys; God lives on the mountain.
So, it came as no surprise when Pastor Jeong Byong Han was quite perplexed that God would label a flat desert "holy ground."
Exodus 3:5 "Do not come any closer," God said. "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground."
Pastor Jeong quoted this verse after explaining his trip to the Holy Land. He continued, "This was not a beautiful place. No mountains. No green. No gardens. Just the desert. But it was holy ground."
We are reminded that God is a paradox and we live in the tension.
The whole of the Bible, save Eden, is written within the context of arrid wasteland. And God still acts. God still changes the world.
God doesn't call the equipped, he equipps the called. My friend Dillon, a fellow missionary, was an accountant before he came here to teach. The stories of his first few classes are comically pitiful. But God had him here for a reason and he adapted incredibly well. After a year here he speaks Korean better than some foreigners who have been here for years, and the Korean teachers and students refer to him as "the professor" his teaching has improved so much.
God moves and works in the desert places of our lives. God doesn't wait for lush tropical mountains to find beauty. God still uses deserts.
Koreans, by their very culture and nature, love Korea. Most love Korea, Korean culture, the Korean language, and Kimchi (spicy, fermented cabbage ... I know, right?) to a fault. Korea can do no wrong, and no country compares to the beauty and sanctity of Korea.
Korea is truly a beautiful country. It seems that every small city has its roots in a small village/community way of life. Mountains separate the valleys - where people live.
God has always been on the mountains. Moses climbed the mountain to meet God. Korean pastors climb prayer mountain when church finances are tight. Buddhist temples are tucked away in the mountains. People live in the valleys; God lives on the mountain.
So, it came as no surprise when Pastor Jeong Byong Han was quite perplexed that God would label a flat desert "holy ground."
Exodus 3:5 "Do not come any closer," God said. "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground."
Pastor Jeong quoted this verse after explaining his trip to the Holy Land. He continued, "This was not a beautiful place. No mountains. No green. No gardens. Just the desert. But it was holy ground."
We are reminded that God is a paradox and we live in the tension.
The whole of the Bible, save Eden, is written within the context of arrid wasteland. And God still acts. God still changes the world.
God doesn't call the equipped, he equipps the called. My friend Dillon, a fellow missionary, was an accountant before he came here to teach. The stories of his first few classes are comically pitiful. But God had him here for a reason and he adapted incredibly well. After a year here he speaks Korean better than some foreigners who have been here for years, and the Korean teachers and students refer to him as "the professor" his teaching has improved so much.
God moves and works in the desert places of our lives. God doesn't wait for lush tropical mountains to find beauty. God still uses deserts.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
On New Church Starts
The United Methodist church in America continues to grow. Now, statistical reports tell us otherwise. In fact, common sense tells us otherwise. We are programmed to believe that the organization and structure around us is crumbling - and we are wrong.
It is true, the numbers look bad. The numbers look downright dismal. Take, for example, my church from the time I spent in college. Toccoa First United Methodist church has around 900 members. We worship 500-600 on Easter, so right away we must build on the understanding that our statistical data are, at the very least, incomplete. During the 4 years I worshipped there, we had no fewer than 8 clergy coming or going in various offices. It was a time of difficult transition and some internal conflict. All of these things work against a church - these circumstances make it more likely that a church will lose members. And lose members we did! We lost (gross loss, not net loss) around 20 members each year. 12-15 of these were death related losses. 5-8 were lost for other reasons - people move, people shuffle to other churches, etc.
These statistics look bad. But, during these years we gained around 15 members a year. We gained 5-7 new members by profession of faith. 5 or more people decided every year that they needed Jesus Christ as their personal savior and that they wanted to live out that journey with our congregation. 8-10 were added for other reasons - people move, people shuffle to other churches, etc.
So, my church registered a net loss of 5 people. A dismal year for United Methodists in Toccoa, GA? I don't think so. These statistics only prove that this church grew at a slower rate than it did 50 or 60 years ago.
I'm sure this doesn't seem like an earth shattering point, but it is. One of the Associate pastors at Toccoa First (and we went through 4 of them in the 4 years I was there) showed me an article about "one of the fastest growing" churches in North Georgia. Then he took out the statistical table from Annual Conference and showed me the raw data. That church and Toccoa First had identical new member information. Each church had received 15 new members in the previous year.
That church didn't have a rich history and tradition. It was only 10 years old. So, while it was growing at a SIGNIFICANTLY slower rate than the previous 5-10 years; it didn't have to combat with the statistical fallout of death associated with growing during the 40s, 50s, and 60s. This made it worthy of newspaper write-ups.
While we lost 5 net members they gained 15 net members. But, both churches were equally successful in ministry.
Now, I'm not trying to deride this church in any way. It is illustrative of my greater point. Most United Methodists feel that their individual churches need greater leadership to grow numerically, and this is true. Most United Methodists feel that if the music program at their church was better, or the youth pastor played more games/did more serious Bible studies, or if the lyrics were up on the screen, (etc) that their church would grow. And, all of those things might be true. And local congregations should continue doing these things.
There are 35,275 Local churches. Considering the number of net members lost each year, each local congregation just needs to do a little better for the denomination to break even.
But it isn't enough.
We need to change our strategy. We need to plant more new churches. We need to plant new churches in new places, with a different look/feel/demographic/etc. This, while holding the appearance of a numbers strategy, isn't just a numbers strategy. It's about taking the church where the people are. We must move and grow with the population. If 10% of our population is hispanic (I made that number up), then 10% of our churches need to be hispanic. If the average age in America is 52 (again, pulled out of thin air) then the average age in a church needs to be 52.
In a vacuum, a penny and a bowling ball fall at the exact same rate. In a vacuum, the ministry efforts of both churches listed above are equal. In reality, one church has history of past growth overshadowing the new growth.
If our goal is mere numerical survival, we can just push every church to do a little better. But how long can we continue this growing cycle. To grow numerically we must grow faster than we did 60 years ago. (I use 60 because many new members are gleaned through confirmation around the ages of 12-15 and the average life expectancey is 72-75.) Even with population growth it is unrealistic to expect conitnued growth forever; we will at some point have to show numerical decline because we simply can't grow any faster than we did in our past. This is the reality of our present situation.
The deeper theological context falls into place as we examine our thoughts on numbers. When a good and faithful United Methodist passes on from this earth and enters his or her rest we shouldn't count that as a "loss" but as an "eternal gain." We need to publicise our gross gain as well as our net gain adjusted for "eternal gain." (Ex: Toccoa First UMC Gross Gain:15 Net Gain adjusted for "eternal gain" [Gross gain of 15- 8 removed for reasons other than death]:7.)
This number gives us a better understanding of the reality of the impact of our ministries.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday An emergent understanding of Christians
What does it mean to be a Christian? My experiential definition is someone who doesn't "smoke, drink, or cuss" and who doesn't hang around anyone who does. I know that's not the definition I was taught. I was taught that Christian means "little Christ." A Christian is a follow of Jesus the Christ.
Emergents have failed miserably in our pursuit to change the face of what it means to be a Christian. When we try to live out our freedom in Christ, uptight Christians think that we have lost our salvation. We try to be free, liberated followers of Christ around non-Christians, but they share the modern preconception and think that because we are enjoying a beer or a stogie that we aren't any different than them.
This is one of the most frustrating battles in my own life. No matter how much I love or give; without consideration for the time I spend fighting for social justice; and without even considering my personal spirituality or walk with Christ people dismiss me as a serious Christian because I drink, or because I swear when I get angry, or because of something I say.
As long as "being a Christian" is synonymous with "being a goody-two-shoes" the emergent generation will never sign on. However, when we read the gospel account - when we truly spend times with the words of Jesus - we don't see our Messiah advocating some tame, "nice," sanitized life. Jesus spent time in the seediest dives in town, and not out of some ministerial obligation, but because he truly loved and enjoyed spending time with the people there.
No pretense, no masks.
They were people who just needed to be loved.
Jesus calls us to a radical, revolutionary life. Until we can show the church and the world what that looks like, and abolish the old definition, my generation has no hope.
Recap: Our definition of "being a Christian" is wrong. Until we re-find the Biblical definition of "Christian" the emergents have no incentive to follow.
Emergents have failed miserably in our pursuit to change the face of what it means to be a Christian. When we try to live out our freedom in Christ, uptight Christians think that we have lost our salvation. We try to be free, liberated followers of Christ around non-Christians, but they share the modern preconception and think that because we are enjoying a beer or a stogie that we aren't any different than them.
This is one of the most frustrating battles in my own life. No matter how much I love or give; without consideration for the time I spend fighting for social justice; and without even considering my personal spirituality or walk with Christ people dismiss me as a serious Christian because I drink, or because I swear when I get angry, or because of something I say.
As long as "being a Christian" is synonymous with "being a goody-two-shoes" the emergent generation will never sign on. However, when we read the gospel account - when we truly spend times with the words of Jesus - we don't see our Messiah advocating some tame, "nice," sanitized life. Jesus spent time in the seediest dives in town, and not out of some ministerial obligation, but because he truly loved and enjoyed spending time with the people there.
No pretense, no masks.
They were people who just needed to be loved.
Jesus calls us to a radical, revolutionary life. Until we can show the church and the world what that looks like, and abolish the old definition, my generation has no hope.
Recap: Our definition of "being a Christian" is wrong. Until we re-find the Biblical definition of "Christian" the emergents have no incentive to follow.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
I love you, Sister.
My sister doesn't like my current thread of Theological Thoughts for Thursday, so I will make a more random post just for her.
I've been going to dawn prayer fairly often. This is odd for me, because as a general rule I hate dawn. I watched two sunrises in the 4 years I lived in Toccoa; to give you some perspective.
I'm required to attend two Sunday morning worship services, a foriegn teacher small group, and Wednesday night worship. I generally dislike all of these events. I think most of my frustration comes from the fact that they are mandatory. Oh, I have my little reasons and excuses for each event. The first service is too crowded, the second Sunday service is too disorganized. The foreign teacher small group is the worst experience of my week ( I pray that some day I will be able to laugh about these awful weekly experiences.) And the Wednesday night worship is too long. But I know all of these reasons are only excuses (except for the small group, which really is dreadful).
I don't believe anyone can be forced to worship. You can force someone to go to church, but worship is so different than going to church. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.
I love dawn prayer because it isn't mandatory. No one excpects me to show up. Everyone is rather surprised by my presence, actually. So, it's my own thing. It's my choice. I go to Sunday morning services because I'm forced. I worship at dawn prayer because I choose to go there.
So it makes me think about the reasons we go to church. Here, I'm forced. But in American churches, sometimes people go to church because they are expected to go. If you don't feel like going to church, people will think that something is wrong. So we go to church when we don't feel like it, just to keep up appearances.
I believe our thinking to be wrong. I think that when we routinely say the Lord's Prayer without meaning it that we take the Lord's name in vain. Maybe there's something fundamentally wrong with going to church when your heart's not in it. Maybe worship has to be a personal choice - or maybe it's something that broadsides you when you least expect it.
I've been going to dawn prayer fairly often. This is odd for me, because as a general rule I hate dawn. I watched two sunrises in the 4 years I lived in Toccoa; to give you some perspective.
I'm required to attend two Sunday morning worship services, a foriegn teacher small group, and Wednesday night worship. I generally dislike all of these events. I think most of my frustration comes from the fact that they are mandatory. Oh, I have my little reasons and excuses for each event. The first service is too crowded, the second Sunday service is too disorganized. The foreign teacher small group is the worst experience of my week ( I pray that some day I will be able to laugh about these awful weekly experiences.) And the Wednesday night worship is too long. But I know all of these reasons are only excuses (except for the small group, which really is dreadful).
I don't believe anyone can be forced to worship. You can force someone to go to church, but worship is so different than going to church. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.
I love dawn prayer because it isn't mandatory. No one excpects me to show up. Everyone is rather surprised by my presence, actually. So, it's my own thing. It's my choice. I go to Sunday morning services because I'm forced. I worship at dawn prayer because I choose to go there.
So it makes me think about the reasons we go to church. Here, I'm forced. But in American churches, sometimes people go to church because they are expected to go. If you don't feel like going to church, people will think that something is wrong. So we go to church when we don't feel like it, just to keep up appearances.
I believe our thinking to be wrong. I think that when we routinely say the Lord's Prayer without meaning it that we take the Lord's name in vain. Maybe there's something fundamentally wrong with going to church when your heart's not in it. Maybe worship has to be a personal choice - or maybe it's something that broadsides you when you least expect it.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Theological Thoughts for Thursday - An emergent understanding of absolutes
An ominous thunder storm brews behind me as I write this post. Which is appropriate because I am writing about the biggest theological divide between traditional theology and postmodern theology.
Absolute truth is extremely important to the modern church. A place for everything and everything in its place. 2+2=4. Red and Blue mix together to make purple. This chair is red, even when the lights are off this chair is still red. A tree always makes a sound when it falls, even if no one is there to hear it. Either the chicken came first or the egg came first. Everything (but especially the Bible) is black and white. Note that the text in your Bible is in two columns per page ... a printing set up used only in technical reference works like dictionaries, thesauruses and, apparently, the Bible.
My generation has a different worldview. It might not be our fault. When we were kids no one lost at sports. Every team had an undefeated season when I was in elementary school. We couldn't play dodge ball because kids would lose. I don't think this was necessarily bad, perhaps unrealistic, but not bad. My generation might not know all the answers ... and that's okay. We don't know which came first and we really wouldn't want to prove it either way. Maybe a tree makes a sound every time or maybe not. Nothing is really absolutely true. (and yes, we realize the inherent irony of that statement. Even that sentence isn't absolutely true!) And maybe the Bible is more than a technical reference volume against which to check our proof texts.
I'm not saying that I don't believe in absolute truth. The jury is still out (which, I guess that statement shows my generational nature ... oops) but I do believe in experiential absolutes. I know that Jesus Christ is absolutely true for me. God has radically changed my life, and I can't deny that.
What I am saying is that absolute truth is not the anchor, bedrock, or foundation for our faith. Jesus is. Don't be so sure (that your generation has all the answers) that you forget Jesus. Jesus is the center. If absolutes are a necessity in the Christian faith, they will fall into place behind Jesus in the lives of individual believers.
Recap: Absolutes were an important part of the modern era. Christianity was an important part of the modern era. They somehow fused and became equal. Faith in Jesus is infinitely more important than faith in absolutes.
Absolute truth is extremely important to the modern church. A place for everything and everything in its place. 2+2=4. Red and Blue mix together to make purple. This chair is red, even when the lights are off this chair is still red. A tree always makes a sound when it falls, even if no one is there to hear it. Either the chicken came first or the egg came first. Everything (but especially the Bible) is black and white. Note that the text in your Bible is in two columns per page ... a printing set up used only in technical reference works like dictionaries, thesauruses and, apparently, the Bible.
My generation has a different worldview. It might not be our fault. When we were kids no one lost at sports. Every team had an undefeated season when I was in elementary school. We couldn't play dodge ball because kids would lose. I don't think this was necessarily bad, perhaps unrealistic, but not bad. My generation might not know all the answers ... and that's okay. We don't know which came first and we really wouldn't want to prove it either way. Maybe a tree makes a sound every time or maybe not. Nothing is really absolutely true. (and yes, we realize the inherent irony of that statement. Even that sentence isn't absolutely true!) And maybe the Bible is more than a technical reference volume against which to check our proof texts.
I'm not saying that I don't believe in absolute truth. The jury is still out (which, I guess that statement shows my generational nature ... oops) but I do believe in experiential absolutes. I know that Jesus Christ is absolutely true for me. God has radically changed my life, and I can't deny that.
What I am saying is that absolute truth is not the anchor, bedrock, or foundation for our faith. Jesus is. Don't be so sure (that your generation has all the answers) that you forget Jesus. Jesus is the center. If absolutes are a necessity in the Christian faith, they will fall into place behind Jesus in the lives of individual believers.
Recap: Absolutes were an important part of the modern era. Christianity was an important part of the modern era. They somehow fused and became equal. Faith in Jesus is infinitely more important than faith in absolutes.
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