I might have already posted about this experience, and these thoughts might be review - but this thought has been in my head all week.

My friend Valya is on the cutting edge of all things hip in our Eastern European city of Lviv, Ukraine.  She runs an international film festival, her mother lives in Italy, and she could wear a trash bag on her head for only a day or two before every young person in the city was doing it.  She always knows of the new restaurant in the basement of a soviet block building in a suburb that has the most amazing food, or some new art exhibit at some abandoned house, or some "post-modern alternative experiential performance piece - with free vegan cookies" to attend.

The last item on that list is in quotation marks because that is how it was advertised.  They advertised on Facebook a "post-modern alternative experiential performance piece."  I knew that I couldn't miss that.  So Valya and I trecked to the "raw space" where they would perform their "post-modern alternative experiential performance piece" and serve their vegan, whole food, raw, locally sourced cookies.

I would like to be quite clear, I'm really down with this crowd.  While I think they could let go of the pretentious attitude and just serve fruit instead of trying to change people's culinary attitudes, I like their vegan crumb cakes and I'm glad that they enjoy expressing themselves.

We found our place behind the white girl with dread-locks and my old neighbor who smokes a lot of pot.

The performance piece began.  It was called masks.  It was about how people wear masks.  At the end, everyone had a piece of paper to open up that ended up in the shape of a mask - and a message of refusing masks was written on it.  The final words were, "Take off your masks.  Everyone, take them off before you die!"  And then the main character died - and the moth characters went into their cocoons.  Again, not for everyone - but I enjoyed it.

What struck me most, and what stays with me to this day - is that, essentially, this was a mix between an outreach event and a revival service.  Just for non-conformists instead of Christians.   They hit the formula perfectly - and they made the exact same mistake that we make.

When you advertise a "post-modern alternative experiential performance piece" you attract a certain group of people.  When your pull is "free vegan cookies" you push a lot of people out of the way.  You attract a certain group of people - people just like yourself - and then you encourage them to become more like you.

When churches advertise a revival they attract a certain group of people - Christians!  When your pull is that "this is an outreach event" you push a lot of people out of the way.

And I can't express how many revivals, outreach events, youth programs, Christian concerts, Revelation based plays, and worship services I have attended which did this exact thing.  They planned an event with the timbre and tone of outreach, evangelism, and faith-sharing; and then they advertised in such a way to ensure that only Christians would show up and then finished off by exhorting them to become Christians.

I was invited by a co-worker to attend revival services at the Southern Baptist church where her husband was pastor.  She was nice, and while theologically she believed there was a warm spot in hell for liberals and Methodists in her heart she knew that I was also a believer and passionately loved Jesus.  I had seen fliers up all over town for the event, and I decided to go.  I was the only person who wasn't a regular attender who came to the revival service during the week.  It was the last night, and as I had never been to such a service I was not aware that showing up unshaven and looking homeless - which was my look at the time - was a clear sign that I was not saved.  After we had sung the lines "Jesus is calling, Oh sinner, come home" forty-three times I quietly whispered to my co-worker that she could tell her husband that I was already saved.  We only sang it twice more before he decided to believe me.    

We are getting better at preaching to the choir.  We're getting worse at preaching to those who need to hear.        

As long as we insist on using the media which worked in the 1940s we will never be heard by people who live today.  Advertising a revival service at a church is no longer the pull for visitors that it once was.  It's easy to confuse the media and the message and we assume that "they" don't want to hear it anymore.

Which brings me back to my friend Valya.  She grew a lot in her faith while she was a student - and she attributes a lot of that to her time with the Pilgrims inter-confessional student ministry operated by the United Methodist Church.  She hasn't found her place in our United Methodist community yet, but as she moves in her circles of hipsters, non-conformists, artists, and outcasts; she caries her faith with her.  She share her faith openly and transparently.  The medium of our message is the same today as it was in the first century.  The medium is transformed disciples transforming the world.

This is what we advertise.  This is what we invite people to witness and join us for.

"Historically, Christianity is overburdened with lust for power and an inclination towards convincing by force. The church must relinquish power, while remaining the ferment throughout all the spheres of life.

Outside of power, the Church may be the light, sometimes barely perceptible and sometimes more evident, depending on the times, the lands and historical possibilities.

We must also reject the idea of influencing societies from the outside.  What we only have left to us are inner influences:  through minds and hearts illuminated by that light and through our various undertakings.  The role of the Christians is making the Church the ferment and not power ... God may expect Christians to be creatively spiritual, their spirituality becoming the breathing of the epoch that would imperceptibly change the society.  All this is very important because we are now tired of Christianity as the ideology of a group, a nation, or a state.  We are tired of the inquisition of the necessity to worry about influence or significance.  We may well be poor and free!" - Olivier Clement

Panni Masha clears weeds from her garden.

Sitting with the pastor of an unaffiliated  church way out in the country I try to explain just what is different about the United Methodist church. By the sheer fact that "connectionalism" isn't a real word, it probably doesn't translate. It's hard to explain our understanding of grace in simple words. I settle on our openness and promise to send some books on our theology.

And hours later I'm still bumping along on a bus built in the 80s on roads paved at Stalin's command. In America, Methodism grew because while all the other denominations focused on the big cities and building great cathedrals we rode out into the villages and started small group after small group. We didn't know which ones would survive the isolation of winter and we certainly didn't know which ones would end feeling the wind of the Holy Spirit and taking off.

American Methodism is failing today in part because we are focusing on the growth of suburban congregations. We pit our greatest preachers against the greatest preachers of the other denominations and we let them duke it out to see who will earn the nominal commitment of the suburban wealthy and elite.

Our best pastors could work miracles in small towns. In suburbs people drive thirty minutes to make the 5 mile trip for Wednesday night Bible Study. You could reach people in three counties if you gave rural people a sermon worth driving thirty minutes to hear.  We could serve so many more people by placing strong pastors in rural churches. It's counterintuitive, but it would work. We must end the habit or belief that dictates that wealthy suburbanites are more worthy of excellent pastor.

Our mission work began in the city because that is where foreigners were welcomed. Now our national leadership is moving out into smaller towns and villages.  It's exciting to be a part of work that is moving out from a central location.  We hope that over the next decade we will spin outwards even further.

I get really angry when people blame the Holy Spirit for their lack of planning, perseverance, and preparation.

The sad reality is that this is a common occurrence in Ukrainian churches.  Lazy pastors choose to not put any effort into preparing anything for a worship service - and then they simply rationalize the abject failure on the fact that the Holy Spirit didn't show up.  The thought process behind this is that after a couple of songs, the spirit will come and everyone will get very emotional and then anything the pastor says will be understood perfectly.

I hate when "the Holy Spirit" and "emotionalism" are used synonymously.  How sad it must be to only understand the Holy Spirit within the context and framework of your own petty emotions.  When people are happy and energetic the Holy Spirit is present and when people are sad or bored the Holy Spirit is absent.

Let me begin by stating for the record that I pray in tongues.

I don't know if this is something I've ever blogged about before.  This might surprise some people.  I believe very strongly in the gift of tongues and I am fully aware of what a beautiful and amazing gift it is.  In times of sorrow and pain, this gift pulls me forward.  In times of uncertainty this gift is miraculous.  It builds me up.  It prepares me for any conversation (even the difficult ones in languages that are still difficult for me) or any situation. It's also a gift that I simply don't talk about all that often.  It's a personal, spiritual discipline - and if I tried to make it public it could easily distract or divide.  It's the gift that comes into play least often in my ministry.

I have almost no musical ability.  I have no rhythm, I can't play any instrument, and I get so nervous standing in front of people trying to lead in singing that it usually ends badly.  But, through the Holy Spirit, I have had and continue to have a wonderful ministry of music.  I've arranged pieces, written new words, found ways to connect hymns with sermons to invigorate them in new ways, and even written a few songs with my mother.

I experience the Holy Spirit most strongly when I sit down with the lectionary or Bible and begin to plan through worship experiences.  As I look through songs, scriptures, and liturgy I feel the sweet breeze of the Holy Spirit's breath.  Every time I preach I pray the single, solitary prayer, "That thing that you do between my mouth and their ears - do it again today."  God's Holy Spirit interprets the muddling, fumbling disconnected words that form in my brain into something meaningful, simple, and life-changing.  This happens routinely.  I have left the pulpit and thought, "Well, I think I'm done writing sermons for a while" only to be greeted by someone with tears in their eyes and a story of a changed heart.

The Holy Spirit is like water being poured from a pitcher - our planning and preparation is like the cup that can receive the water.  Either the cup is there (we plan and prepare) and the water is able to be received and enjoyed or the cup is absent and the water is spilled all over the floor.  Or like wind and a sailboat.  If you don't put up the sail, it doesn't matter how much the wind blows.  The reason that the Methodist movement spread quickly and lasted for centuries is that the structures, methods, and systems created by the Methodists were able to receive the goodness of the Holy Spirit and to push the church forward.  The water went into the cup and nourished the body - it didn't fall needlessly to the floor.

Yesterday I tried to sit down with one of our pastors and plan for a worship service.  He was disgusted that I wanted to plan the service - and that I wasn't willing to let the Holy Spirit plan the service.

God, like most pastors, works more than one day a week!  I'm so thankful that God honors the time we put into preparing and planning our acts of worship.  It's hard to convey that idea without simply doing it.      
          

My uncle encouraged me to invest in the stock market when I was a teenager.  It was one of those things I never got around to.  In college I finally found the time to invest a few dollars in the stock market.  Uncle Randy had explained the process and pitfalls and I felt amazingly comfortable with the idea.

Over the years I've just kept plugging away at investing money - and I'm really proud of the commitment it has  taken to continue investing.  I have invested a few dollars even while unemployed.  I've just put it down in my head that investing is buying a slice of tomorrow, today.  

"Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns." 


This poem by Wendell Berry always makes me think - these verses are especially poignant for me.   


I'm working with church planters these days - and people who are working to revive congregations that have become tiny.  I love people who are called to this.  They invest their lives in something so intangibly great.  They invest in something that they will never fully see come to fruition.  Most people will never understand what they are doing. 


In America we build new church buildings in new suburbs.  I hate being so blunt, but this is the reality of many successful new church starts.  We desperately need pastors assigned to rural areas, inner-city missions, and struggling communities - as church planters.  


We need churches to be planted - churches that have sprouted from the enthusiasm of new, young believers.


One of the hardest parts of my job is encouraging pastors to keep plugging away.  As a consultant, co-worker, and friend they hope that I can come with some magic bullet.  As an American they hope that my English language speaking tongue will wag blessing on their ministry and it will magically sprout.  This is not reality.  


The advice is constantly give is simple, common sense advice.  Set a scheduled time for the service and have it at the same time every week.  Spend time with church members and prospective church members.  Think about the felt needs of the community and figure out ways for the church plant to meet those needs.  Pray more.  Make the service better in some way every week.  Build events into the worship calendar that are worth advertising.


I haven't sold a single stock yet.  I have friends who do day-trading and lose vast sums of money.  I haven't lost a dime yet in the stock-market.  In fact, I've done rather well for myself.  I've bought at least a couple of weeks of future already!  The key is that I'm in the stock market for the long haul.  I invest as much as I can and I let it do the work that it does.  I check my stocks about once a month and no more often than that.  I don't panic with daily fluctuations of the stock market.


This isn't a direct comparison - business and church are very different.  But I try and keep these ideas in my head as I work with new church planters.  Every day, every dollar matters - we don't look for what will give the most bang for the buck - but for what will leave our grandchildren in the best position.