Over the past several months I've been thinking about working with my wife Kelly to craft a family vision. This hopefully would help us to steer our way through the many choices we'll have to make regarding our kids and our family life.
Here's my first crack at forming that vision:
Vision: To be a “YES!” Family!
To live as a family in the power and wonder of God’s “yes” to us in Christ.
To echo and amen that “yes” to one another
To echo that “yes” to anyone that we might come in contact with
Scripture: For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “yes” in Christ. And so through Him the “amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God. 2 Cor. 1:20
We say “YES & AMEN” to God’s invitation to know Him.
-Praying together at meals and at bedtime
-Regular Scripture reading with kids/as a family
-Going to church together as a family
We say “YES & AMEN” to Godly authorities that exist to bless us
-Mommy and Daddy submit to God, one another, and to the church authority and community that God has put in our lives.
-Davis, Zoe, and Emma Kate submit to God, Mommy and Daddy, to teachers and others in authority over them.
-Freedom to ask questions in a respectful way
We say “YES & AMEN” to laughter, joy, authentic relationships, character and wisdom
-We will laugh a lot!
-We will follow the commands of Scripture as the rules of our house.
-We will eat dinners together at least three times per week
-We will apologize when we wrong one another. We will keep short accounts and not hold grudges
-We will identify and encourage the different strengths and abilities that each one of us uniquely has.
We say “YES & AMEN” to loving and respecting one another
-Gentle hands, gentle tone and respectful words
We say “YES & AMEN” to a strong marriage as the centerpiece of a healthy family
-We will turn towards and not away from each other for as long as we both shall live
-Bi-weekly date nights
-Regular marriage conferences for tune-ups.
-Mama gets regular opportunities for personal space and renewal in whatever age and stage appropriate ways that we can afford!
We say “YES & AMEN” to the invitation to be a part of God’s mission in the world.
-We participate in all of our activities as agents of God’s “yes” to the world.
-We look for opportunities to serve and to bless our neighbors
-We practice hospitality in loving and welcoming in guests.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
The Long Trip
Several months ago I listened to a podcast out of Willow Creek, the church that launched the seeker-oriented mega-church movement in the mid 1980's. In the podcast Bill Hybels, the founding pastor of Willow, was debriefing the results of a long study of their own congregation involving focus groups, surveys, the works.
The study found that the satisfaction rating among the congregants was highest among those who were not Christians or who had mostly recently become Christians. The longer a person was involved in Willow and the longer they had walked with Christ, the more likely they were to be dissatisfied with the church.
Hybels talked about the findings as a shock to him and to his staff. He talked about the need to move his church culture from a program-oriented one to one that is creating what he called "self-feeders." He confessed they had not done a good job as a church staff challenging them as a congregation to move to radical self-motivated, self-disciplined discipleship in Christ. Christianity Today picked up on the rumblings around Willow with their on-line blog post Willow Creek Repents?
I think that Willow's in a hard spot. They excel at engaging a culture that is consumer-driven. They do a fantastic job with programs that meet non-religious consumers exactly where they are. What they have discovered is that it is a long trip from consumer to mature disciple of Jesus. Programs can't do it. Personal spiritual disciplines and authentic community are the essential practices of a growing disciple.
I feel this tension myself. I work with 18-22-year-olds who have been deeply programmed to see themselves as consumers. The ones who grew up in Christian community often relate to those communities as commodities. In some ways it's not their fault. It would take a fantastically mature 18-year-old and/or outstanding parenting to fight against that flow.
So how do we both engage consumers right where they are and call them to something that requires a good deal more work than they're used to? To disciplines which frequently yield much less immediate results? I'm still working this out myself. My guess is that as Willow Creek "repents" they'll probably lead much of the evangelical sub-culture into the next twenty years of genuine discipleship of the consumer generations.
The study found that the satisfaction rating among the congregants was highest among those who were not Christians or who had mostly recently become Christians. The longer a person was involved in Willow and the longer they had walked with Christ, the more likely they were to be dissatisfied with the church.
Hybels talked about the findings as a shock to him and to his staff. He talked about the need to move his church culture from a program-oriented one to one that is creating what he called "self-feeders." He confessed they had not done a good job as a church staff challenging them as a congregation to move to radical self-motivated, self-disciplined discipleship in Christ. Christianity Today picked up on the rumblings around Willow with their on-line blog post Willow Creek Repents?
I think that Willow's in a hard spot. They excel at engaging a culture that is consumer-driven. They do a fantastic job with programs that meet non-religious consumers exactly where they are. What they have discovered is that it is a long trip from consumer to mature disciple of Jesus. Programs can't do it. Personal spiritual disciplines and authentic community are the essential practices of a growing disciple.
I feel this tension myself. I work with 18-22-year-olds who have been deeply programmed to see themselves as consumers. The ones who grew up in Christian community often relate to those communities as commodities. In some ways it's not their fault. It would take a fantastically mature 18-year-old and/or outstanding parenting to fight against that flow.
So how do we both engage consumers right where they are and call them to something that requires a good deal more work than they're used to? To disciplines which frequently yield much less immediate results? I'm still working this out myself. My guess is that as Willow Creek "repents" they'll probably lead much of the evangelical sub-culture into the next twenty years of genuine discipleship of the consumer generations.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Men and Christian Community
One thing I thought about some over the Christmas break was the issue of men in Christian community. In InterVarsity nationwide, our numbers of men, particularly white men, have gone down while other numbers have gone up or remained relatively steady. This problem, of course, is not simply relegated to IV. The church around the world is largely made up of women. I was asked to participate in a panel at our National Staff Conference to present ways to get and keep men in our chapters.
I think one piece of the puzzle might be the VARK proportions.
There are four different learning styles: Visual, Auditory, Reading/writing and Kinesthetic. Church services (along with InterVarsity large group meetings) tend to be high on the Auditory. The sermon (at least in most Protestant circles) is the high point.
But the problem with that is that men tend to be visual and kinesthetic learners. So if we're not finding ways to engage them with images and give them opportunities to actually move somehow in response, it makes sense that they stop coming to our meetings and disengage from our communities.
I think that in order to engage men we've got to find ways to increase the use of images in worship and in our teaching. And I think that we've got to find ways to invite tactile response. I love that in our Anglican service each week we take communion. It's an active response to the preaching of the word. In my large group talks I've been trying to be more active as well for response times: exchange a slice of cheese for a cup of water, write your vow on a Duplo block and add it to others as an altar to the Lord, etc.
The Lord has made many men (and not only men but women too, obviously) to be visual and kinesthetic learners. Why do we not tap into our God-given creativity to find ways to engage men more effectively with the gospel?
I think one piece of the puzzle might be the VARK proportions.
There are four different learning styles: Visual, Auditory, Reading/writing and Kinesthetic. Church services (along with InterVarsity large group meetings) tend to be high on the Auditory. The sermon (at least in most Protestant circles) is the high point.
But the problem with that is that men tend to be visual and kinesthetic learners. So if we're not finding ways to engage them with images and give them opportunities to actually move somehow in response, it makes sense that they stop coming to our meetings and disengage from our communities.
I think that in order to engage men we've got to find ways to increase the use of images in worship and in our teaching. And I think that we've got to find ways to invite tactile response. I love that in our Anglican service each week we take communion. It's an active response to the preaching of the word. In my large group talks I've been trying to be more active as well for response times: exchange a slice of cheese for a cup of water, write your vow on a Duplo block and add it to others as an altar to the Lord, etc.
The Lord has made many men (and not only men but women too, obviously) to be visual and kinesthetic learners. Why do we not tap into our God-given creativity to find ways to engage men more effectively with the gospel?
Friday, January 11, 2008
Bookending
Last night at our first campus large group meeting Mark Acuff, pastor of the Chapel Hill Bible Church, called us to mission in and as a community. He spoke from the theme verse for the semester from John 13: " 34 "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
Mark talked about how striking it was that here in Jesus' last hours, with the clock ticking and much to say, Jesus is passionate about both the men in the room with him AND the people who are not there.
There is much to be said about the fruit born out of loving one another. When we love one another we grow in character. When we love one another we discover more of God's character. When we love one another it helps our communities to grow spiritually.
But Jesus takes this command to love one another and he points it outward: love one another so that everyone will know that you are my disciples. Here at the end, Jesus has an eye towards who's not yet in the room. He is passionate about those who are outside coming inside.
Mark emphasized that this should not have surprised the disciples. Their adventure with Jesus began for some of them with a very similar theme: "Follow me and I will make you fish for people!" Jesus begins the calling of his disciples with a missional theme and he finishes it with a variation on the exact same thing.
The firm bookends of mission propels the disciples to go and change the world after Jesus is gone. And so it should for us.
Mark talked about how striking it was that here in Jesus' last hours, with the clock ticking and much to say, Jesus is passionate about both the men in the room with him AND the people who are not there.
There is much to be said about the fruit born out of loving one another. When we love one another we grow in character. When we love one another we discover more of God's character. When we love one another it helps our communities to grow spiritually.
But Jesus takes this command to love one another and he points it outward: love one another so that everyone will know that you are my disciples. Here at the end, Jesus has an eye towards who's not yet in the room. He is passionate about those who are outside coming inside.
Mark emphasized that this should not have surprised the disciples. Their adventure with Jesus began for some of them with a very similar theme: "Follow me and I will make you fish for people!" Jesus begins the calling of his disciples with a missional theme and he finishes it with a variation on the exact same thing.
The firm bookends of mission propels the disciples to go and change the world after Jesus is gone. And so it should for us.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Two Kinds of Parents
Several years ago I was hanging out with a couple students in their apartment just off campus. One of the guys was loading the dishwasher while the other one supervised. Conversation ensued about their dads and their philosophy on loading the dishwasher. It went something like this:
Steve: "Man, in my house my dad was always on us about cleaning the dishes thoroughly before they went in the dishwasher. It was like a twice-baked potato, only it was a twice-washed dish. He was paranoid about them not getting clean. I was always like, 'why do we have a dishwasher if we're going to wash the dishes by hand anyway?'"
Joel: "My dad was the complete opposite. He'd see us rinsing off the dishes and he'd say, 'What are you doing? Stop that right now. We have a dishwasher for a reason. If it won't get the dishes clean, we'll just get another dishwasher.'"
For some reason this conversation has stayed with me for eleven or so years as a picture of the two different styles of parenting. I'd like to be as care-free as the latter: if it doesn't work, we'll just get another dishwasher! If things don't quite go right, we can find creative alternative solutions.
There's a sense of living a fully-resourced life in the former that the latter doesn't have. Some of this is perhaps reflective of genuine realities (i.e. if our dishwasher doesn't work we don't exactly have the cash to go out and buy another one). But the general feeling that we don't live fearfully is attractive to me. We don't have to have a fearful approach to the small things in life that eat up our energies.
But I think I find myself more concerned about meaningless details like the Ranch dressing still on the plate in the dishwasher than freed up to just enjoy the more important stuff in life. Freedom from worry and anxiety (even and especially over small things) is an important part of the process of my life in Christ.
Steve: "Man, in my house my dad was always on us about cleaning the dishes thoroughly before they went in the dishwasher. It was like a twice-baked potato, only it was a twice-washed dish. He was paranoid about them not getting clean. I was always like, 'why do we have a dishwasher if we're going to wash the dishes by hand anyway?'"
Joel: "My dad was the complete opposite. He'd see us rinsing off the dishes and he'd say, 'What are you doing? Stop that right now. We have a dishwasher for a reason. If it won't get the dishes clean, we'll just get another dishwasher.'"
For some reason this conversation has stayed with me for eleven or so years as a picture of the two different styles of parenting. I'd like to be as care-free as the latter: if it doesn't work, we'll just get another dishwasher! If things don't quite go right, we can find creative alternative solutions.
There's a sense of living a fully-resourced life in the former that the latter doesn't have. Some of this is perhaps reflective of genuine realities (i.e. if our dishwasher doesn't work we don't exactly have the cash to go out and buy another one). But the general feeling that we don't live fearfully is attractive to me. We don't have to have a fearful approach to the small things in life that eat up our energies.
But I think I find myself more concerned about meaningless details like the Ranch dressing still on the plate in the dishwasher than freed up to just enjoy the more important stuff in life. Freedom from worry and anxiety (even and especially over small things) is an important part of the process of my life in Christ.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Staff Conference Sound Byte Highlights
After spending yesterday looking back over my notes from IV's national staff conference, here are the things that are still resonating in my soul this morning:
Our theme for the conference was "I am not ashamed of the gospel." We had several different speakers walk us through the first 12 chapters of Romans.
-The speaker the first morning had this to say about shame: "When shame covers us we think that the gospel is weak and so we must somehow make up for it with our great skills and strategies."
-Humility is our silent friend in leadership. Apart from humility we cannot lead in power...when we're humble we hear God's saving voice and not our own voice. In so doing we can be bold with God's boldness and say 'Behold, the power of God!' Humility is the laboratory of God's power.
-What if we challenged our students to use Facebook as an instrument for God's kingdom rather than a tool for self-advancement?
-Romans 8 is perhaps the single most significant chapter of Scripture in Paul's writings, perhaps of all the Bible. And it is all about the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is referenced 22 times in 39 verses. It is the Holy Spirit at work in us that makes this gospel thing take root and work in us.
-Our slavery for many of us in ministry is a slavery to fear of failure. And so we live in our own power and become enslaved to our own ideas and plans and strategies. We straddle life in Adam and life in Christ and so we become imprisoned by our own stuff when we've been invited to new life and freedom.
-The call in Romans 12 to present our bodies as a living sacrifice of worship is profound. Bodies matter.
-The call in Romans 12 to worship after all that Paul has talked about in the first eleven chapters of Romans is simply reasonable. It is no great thing to worship a God who has done so much for us. It is our reasonable service. It is what we do because we live here. I do laundry and help clean around the house because it is a reasonable service as a member of this family, this house. In light of the life we've been offered and the place where we live, we worship.
Our theme for the conference was "I am not ashamed of the gospel." We had several different speakers walk us through the first 12 chapters of Romans.
-The speaker the first morning had this to say about shame: "When shame covers us we think that the gospel is weak and so we must somehow make up for it with our great skills and strategies."
-Humility is our silent friend in leadership. Apart from humility we cannot lead in power...when we're humble we hear God's saving voice and not our own voice. In so doing we can be bold with God's boldness and say 'Behold, the power of God!' Humility is the laboratory of God's power.
-What if we challenged our students to use Facebook as an instrument for God's kingdom rather than a tool for self-advancement?
-Romans 8 is perhaps the single most significant chapter of Scripture in Paul's writings, perhaps of all the Bible. And it is all about the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is referenced 22 times in 39 verses. It is the Holy Spirit at work in us that makes this gospel thing take root and work in us.
-Our slavery for many of us in ministry is a slavery to fear of failure. And so we live in our own power and become enslaved to our own ideas and plans and strategies. We straddle life in Adam and life in Christ and so we become imprisoned by our own stuff when we've been invited to new life and freedom.
-The call in Romans 12 to present our bodies as a living sacrifice of worship is profound. Bodies matter.
-The call in Romans 12 to worship after all that Paul has talked about in the first eleven chapters of Romans is simply reasonable. It is no great thing to worship a God who has done so much for us. It is our reasonable service. It is what we do because we live here. I do laundry and help clean around the house because it is a reasonable service as a member of this family, this house. In light of the life we've been offered and the place where we live, we worship.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Blogging like Mary
I'm an external processor. That is, the stuff rolling around in my head becomes more clear to me as I express it--a conversation, journaling, a haiku, whatever. This has been the tremendous blessing for me of blogging. Blogging has given me an outlet to process all the half-baked thoughts in my head. This is why the posts sometimes have large holes or don't quite make sense. The dots aren't always quite connected yet.
I returned home yesterday after five days in St. Louis at InterVarsity's national staff conference. And I have all sorts of half-baked thoughts rolling around in my head. Thoughts about I.V. as a national movement, thoughts from the fantastic teaching we received from the Scriptures, thoughts about ministry praxis, thoughts about all the football played over the weekend, reflections on how the Lord met me during my time there.
So earlier today I was considering this swirl of thoughts and wondering where to begin with today's post. And the Lord brought this passage of Scripture to mind: "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." That's Luke 2:19
Tomorrow I'm retreating for a couple hours with my staff team. We're going to take the morning to look back over the Scriptures that were opened up, sift through notes taken in seminars, pour over the spring semester's calendar of events, seek the Lord's Spirit and plead for understanding, wisdom, power, discernment, clarity. What would the Lord have us take home personally and for the campus this spring?
And so that means that for now I need to join Mary in not begin too hasty to make public what is not yet clear...or perhaps is just too precious for general consumption.
I returned home yesterday after five days in St. Louis at InterVarsity's national staff conference. And I have all sorts of half-baked thoughts rolling around in my head. Thoughts about I.V. as a national movement, thoughts from the fantastic teaching we received from the Scriptures, thoughts about ministry praxis, thoughts about all the football played over the weekend, reflections on how the Lord met me during my time there.
So earlier today I was considering this swirl of thoughts and wondering where to begin with today's post. And the Lord brought this passage of Scripture to mind: "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." That's Luke 2:19
Tomorrow I'm retreating for a couple hours with my staff team. We're going to take the morning to look back over the Scriptures that were opened up, sift through notes taken in seminars, pour over the spring semester's calendar of events, seek the Lord's Spirit and plead for understanding, wisdom, power, discernment, clarity. What would the Lord have us take home personally and for the campus this spring?
And so that means that for now I need to join Mary in not begin too hasty to make public what is not yet clear...or perhaps is just too precious for general consumption.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Humility
I'm at an IV staff conference over these next couple of days. This morning the speaker the speaker challenged all of us that the growth and impact of a leader is capped when humility is not present.
I've spent some time over the past couple of weeks praying and asking God to increase our chapter's evangelistic impact on campus. I've been specifically praying that he'd help me to grow. I've been asking for a fresh work of the Holy Spirit to newly empower my speaking and my ministry to see new people come to faith in Christ.
I think that in this morning's gentle "humility beat-down" I might have gotten at least a starting place for that growth.
Funny how often I ask for things and don't really expect to get them. Or I ask for things and expect them to come through a waving of a magic wand. Instead, the path of blessing leads me to repentance, confession, self-abandonment. I have work to do. It is a good work. Transformation and change come not through magic but through the power of the Holy Spirit as I submit to Him. But there is something required of me to walk in the way of life: not more skill-development but more brokenness.
This, of course, is how I got started on this whole path of life in Christ. Why would I think blessing could come any other way?
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Ill Omens
A couple of hours ago I dropped my cell phone/PDA/life organization tool in the toilet. What used to be a touch-screen is now just a screen.
I hope that isn't a harbinger of things to come in 2008.
I hope that isn't a harbinger of things to come in 2008.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Merry Christmas (Still)
One of the problems with being a culture that is perpetually in a hurry is not only do we not wait well, we do not celebrate well, either. Been to a wedding recently? Only the wedding party (who has to) stays to see the couple off. I'm surprised people haven't started leaving after the couple says "I do."
And so December is a mad rush of buying and scurrying and hurrying. And then Christmas Day comes we exchange presents and eat a big meal. We wake up the next morning with post-Christmas hangover. And more than a few of us are both relieved that it's over and wonder how we managed to "miss Christmas" again this year. We box up the decorations with a mixed emotions and move on to New Year's resolutions.
In the midst of this pattern in my own life, I've deeply appreciated my new-to-me Anglican church experience. The Anglican church emphasizes waiting and anticipating during the Advent-weeks leading up to Christmas. So much so that if you're "a real Anglican" you don't decorate the house or the tree or listen to any Christmas music or wish anyone a "Merry Christmas" until the day of. It's all about longing and expectancy--not only longing for Jesus to come in the flesh but also a longing for his return to earth to make all things right.
When Christmas finally does come it's not just one day. It's twelve days. The pressure is off to have a mystical, magical, spiritually-ecstatic experience on December the 25th each year. Twelve full days to allow the enormity of the incarnation event sink in, take root, make its' home in your heart, mind, and soul. There are twelve full days to listen to Christmas music with impunity.
So I'm still listening to my Charlie Brown Christmas, long after the local mix station has gone back to their normal format after being "the Triangle's official Christmas music station" (much to the relief of the dj's, I'm sure, who were forced to endure the same 20-song playlist for the previous four weeks...which, now that I think about it, isn't any different from their normal format). And I'm loving that today is seventh day of Christmas. Slowing down long enough to enjoy and actually experience life rather than just hurry through it is something I need plenty of help with.
And so December is a mad rush of buying and scurrying and hurrying. And then Christmas Day comes we exchange presents and eat a big meal. We wake up the next morning with post-Christmas hangover. And more than a few of us are both relieved that it's over and wonder how we managed to "miss Christmas" again this year. We box up the decorations with a mixed emotions and move on to New Year's resolutions.
In the midst of this pattern in my own life, I've deeply appreciated my new-to-me Anglican church experience. The Anglican church emphasizes waiting and anticipating during the Advent-weeks leading up to Christmas. So much so that if you're "a real Anglican" you don't decorate the house or the tree or listen to any Christmas music or wish anyone a "Merry Christmas" until the day of. It's all about longing and expectancy--not only longing for Jesus to come in the flesh but also a longing for his return to earth to make all things right.
When Christmas finally does come it's not just one day. It's twelve days. The pressure is off to have a mystical, magical, spiritually-ecstatic experience on December the 25th each year. Twelve full days to allow the enormity of the incarnation event sink in, take root, make its' home in your heart, mind, and soul. There are twelve full days to listen to Christmas music with impunity.
So I'm still listening to my Charlie Brown Christmas, long after the local mix station has gone back to their normal format after being "the Triangle's official Christmas music station" (much to the relief of the dj's, I'm sure, who were forced to endure the same 20-song playlist for the previous four weeks...which, now that I think about it, isn't any different from their normal format). And I'm loving that today is seventh day of Christmas. Slowing down long enough to enjoy and actually experience life rather than just hurry through it is something I need plenty of help with.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Christmas Pictures
For Kelly's present this year I got her a digital camera. I made the mistake of running the errand with Davis, who promptly came home and told her what we got.
But anyway, here are some of my first attempts with her camera--some fun photos of Christmas 2007.
Here's Zoe trying to be Christmas coy. One of the few moments she has her pacifier out of her mouth...she did have (and continues to have) a pretty quality cold, so there's some good gunk around her nose in this pic.
Here's Emma Kate on her newly-acquired throne.
Below is Davis feeling a lot of Christmas love.
And lastly, this great shot captured by Kelly of Zoe sitting at her new craft table in the light of Christmas morning sunrise.
But anyway, here are some of my first attempts with her camera--some fun photos of Christmas 2007.
Here's Zoe trying to be Christmas coy. One of the few moments she has her pacifier out of her mouth...she did have (and continues to have) a pretty quality cold, so there's some good gunk around her nose in this pic.
Here's Emma Kate on her newly-acquired throne.Below is Davis feeling a lot of Christmas love.
And lastly, this great shot captured by Kelly of Zoe sitting at her new craft table in the light of Christmas morning sunrise.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Christmast Expectation
My readers are mostly smarter than I am, so perhaps you've already figured all this stuff out...
So I realized over Christmas what it was as a kid that at least in part made Christmas such a magical time. There was a sense in my imagination that something that was waiting for me on Christmas morning could radically alter my world for the good. My world was simple and small. It did not take much to turn it in significantly different and wonderfully better directions: the right toy car, a video game system (never did get that Atari that was at the top of my list for several years), a new bike, etc.
So on the days leading up to Christmas I lived in expectation and hope and anticipation of how my Christmas morning loot would radically alter my life. And I can't remember ever being disappointed as a kid...even when I didn't get my Atari.
I remember the first Christmas I did feel disappointed about Christmas morning. I was in Junior High, that awkward time of transition and change where my head and ears were grossly disproportionate to the rest of my body. My world was getting bigger (like my ears) and more complex. Packages and gifts weren't going to change it nearly as easily. I couldn't articulate this at the time, I simply realized that my expectations of Christmas had be ratcheted down.
I'm not sure what to make of all this apart from observing it and perhaps stating that it's not a bad thing as a kid to have a small world that is easily made much more fun. In the Scriptures Paul states that when he was a child he talked and reasoned as a child and then when he became a man he put childish things behind him. This is not to say that childish things are inappropriate for a child. Just not for a grown man or woman.
So it would be a little messed up for me as a thirty-three year old to have that same giddy expectation that Christmas morning's presents would change everything. But now I get to enjoy watching my kids have that hope. And I rest in the bigger reality of One Christmas gift that started it all that really did change things once and forever.
No, not the Atari.
So I realized over Christmas what it was as a kid that at least in part made Christmas such a magical time. There was a sense in my imagination that something that was waiting for me on Christmas morning could radically alter my world for the good. My world was simple and small. It did not take much to turn it in significantly different and wonderfully better directions: the right toy car, a video game system (never did get that Atari that was at the top of my list for several years), a new bike, etc.
So on the days leading up to Christmas I lived in expectation and hope and anticipation of how my Christmas morning loot would radically alter my life. And I can't remember ever being disappointed as a kid...even when I didn't get my Atari.
I remember the first Christmas I did feel disappointed about Christmas morning. I was in Junior High, that awkward time of transition and change where my head and ears were grossly disproportionate to the rest of my body. My world was getting bigger (like my ears) and more complex. Packages and gifts weren't going to change it nearly as easily. I couldn't articulate this at the time, I simply realized that my expectations of Christmas had be ratcheted down.
I'm not sure what to make of all this apart from observing it and perhaps stating that it's not a bad thing as a kid to have a small world that is easily made much more fun. In the Scriptures Paul states that when he was a child he talked and reasoned as a child and then when he became a man he put childish things behind him. This is not to say that childish things are inappropriate for a child. Just not for a grown man or woman.
So it would be a little messed up for me as a thirty-three year old to have that same giddy expectation that Christmas morning's presents would change everything. But now I get to enjoy watching my kids have that hope. And I rest in the bigger reality of One Christmas gift that started it all that really did change things once and forever.
No, not the Atari.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Self-Giving
This'll be my Christmas post. The next couple of days will be full with family and more gifts to open per capita than all of Bangladesh.
The best gift I ever received was easily a gift I got from my brother one year for my birthday. We were both two years out of college. I was in Richmond, working with InterVarsity at Virginia Commonwealth University and things were more or less falling apart. Daniel was in seminary in Philadelphia.
Our relationship had been fairly good since high school and through college. But we were in a hard place at that time. I was insecure in my work (the chapter was falling apart, after all) and I wasn't sure that my brother (a.k.a. "the smart one") theologically agreed that para-church ministry was a legit thing. We had a couple snippy conversations. Things were a little tense.
So my b-day rolls around in late-February and I get a thick envelope in the mail from him. Enclosed is a pocket-sized calendar. He has marked off every-other-week as a "call from Daniel" week. There's a note enclosed. His birthday gift to me is that he is committing to call me every other week for the next year.
He sticks by his commitment. He calls me every-other-week for the next year. It is the turning point in our adult relationship. Nowadays, we talk just about every week. Daniel is far and away the person outside of Kelly that knows me the best and that I can talk to about anything. He gave me the gift of himself that year, it changed everything.
This self-giving is the heart of the Christmas story. An old Puritan prayer says something to the effect of in Christ Jesus God has given us so much that heaven can give no more. God gives us the gift of Himself. It is the deepest need of all of us, the place of redemption and hope and life for some, the place of stumbling and final and ultimate rejection for others. If the Christian story is true and God Himself has come to get us, then it can be nothing other than ultimately definitive for all of us.
Merry Christmas.
The best gift I ever received was easily a gift I got from my brother one year for my birthday. We were both two years out of college. I was in Richmond, working with InterVarsity at Virginia Commonwealth University and things were more or less falling apart. Daniel was in seminary in Philadelphia.
Our relationship had been fairly good since high school and through college. But we were in a hard place at that time. I was insecure in my work (the chapter was falling apart, after all) and I wasn't sure that my brother (a.k.a. "the smart one") theologically agreed that para-church ministry was a legit thing. We had a couple snippy conversations. Things were a little tense.
So my b-day rolls around in late-February and I get a thick envelope in the mail from him. Enclosed is a pocket-sized calendar. He has marked off every-other-week as a "call from Daniel" week. There's a note enclosed. His birthday gift to me is that he is committing to call me every other week for the next year.
He sticks by his commitment. He calls me every-other-week for the next year. It is the turning point in our adult relationship. Nowadays, we talk just about every week. Daniel is far and away the person outside of Kelly that knows me the best and that I can talk to about anything. He gave me the gift of himself that year, it changed everything.
This self-giving is the heart of the Christmas story. An old Puritan prayer says something to the effect of in Christ Jesus God has given us so much that heaven can give no more. God gives us the gift of Himself. It is the deepest need of all of us, the place of redemption and hope and life for some, the place of stumbling and final and ultimate rejection for others. If the Christian story is true and God Himself has come to get us, then it can be nothing other than ultimately definitive for all of us.
Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Catastrophizing
So maybe it's just the stress of the holidays but in the past couple of weeks Kelly and I have definitely felt the reality of three kids four and under sinking in. I'm not even sure how or where i'd begin if I were to begin to whine/describe all that's gone down. It's just been overwhelming. And exhausting.
Several years ago my wonderful wife (who just joined me at the ripe age of 33 the other day, btw) invented a word that sums up both of our tendencies during times like these: catastrophize.
To catastrophize is to cull through a particularly challenging time of life and magnify all that is hard while carefully avoiding anything hopeful or good. You then extrapolate all the hard things over the next fifty years of your life. Tah-dah, you've just managed to catastrophize! See how easy that was? Don't we all feel better now?
This is probably indicative of some deeper psychological issues, at least in me. But that's for another days post.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Church Love
So let me clarify after my last post: I love the church.
Late last fall I was meeting with a student who was going through a mini-faith-crisis. Some of this was personal, some of it was with the church. We talked some about the person stuff, then I asked her about her struggles with the church.
Her frustrations with the church was the usual cast of characters: the church was full of hypocrisy, the church was picking and choosing which Scriptures to follow, the whole conservative Christian = Republican politics, the church seemed overly-simplistic in how they thought about faith and the world around them, the church didn't serving the poor, the widows, the orphans. The more we talked, the more she got amped up. The church had pretty much failed in every area she could think of.
But here's what became clear as we talked: the category of "the church" wasn't anything that corresponded to any sort of reality. "The church" became a catch-all for every possible negative stereotype and disappointment that she could be frustrated about. "The church" was just a giant pinata for her to work out all her frustrations with just about everything that was wrong with the world.
This happens with my Bible-belt students all the time. They come to UNC, meet thoughtful and critical people from all over the place, and they begin to resent their churched upbringing for not being interested in the things that seem to really matter in the real world.
But here's the problem: "the church" is not just this giant catch-all for all the wrongs in the world. "The Church" is a huge, glorious, stumbling, wonderful, mixed-up community of 2,000 years of broken and redeemed people who are in process. It is not all bad. It is not all good. It is a real, dynamic community of people--people who, according to our own theological understanding of the world, are created in God's image but who are cracked by the fall and by sin.
Without a nuanced understanding of the church, it is easy to either overly-romanticize the church or to overly-condemn the church. Both extremes are simply two sides of the same coin: demanding a perfect Bride for a perfect Christ before Her perfection has been made manifest. One side ignores the ugly parts, the other ignores the beauty that is already being worked out here on earth.
Jesus tells a parable where an enemy sows weeds in with the wheat. The servants ask the master if they should go through and remove the weeds but the master says to wait until the harvest so that none of the good wheat is lost. And so it shall be with the church. There is much that is broken in the church; there are many who claim to be Christ-followers who simply grasp for power, who manipulate, who steal and lie and exploit. They shall be dealt with. But not until the end.
In the mean time, there's two things we know about the church: 1. It is full of broken and messy people who we must not expect either too little or too much from. and 2. Jesus is not ashamed to call Her his beloved Bride. Holding on to both of these helps us to live in the tension of our own experience and understanding and evaluation of "the church" in all its' beauty and brokenness.
Late last fall I was meeting with a student who was going through a mini-faith-crisis. Some of this was personal, some of it was with the church. We talked some about the person stuff, then I asked her about her struggles with the church.
Her frustrations with the church was the usual cast of characters: the church was full of hypocrisy, the church was picking and choosing which Scriptures to follow, the whole conservative Christian = Republican politics, the church seemed overly-simplistic in how they thought about faith and the world around them, the church didn't serving the poor, the widows, the orphans. The more we talked, the more she got amped up. The church had pretty much failed in every area she could think of.
But here's what became clear as we talked: the category of "the church" wasn't anything that corresponded to any sort of reality. "The church" became a catch-all for every possible negative stereotype and disappointment that she could be frustrated about. "The church" was just a giant pinata for her to work out all her frustrations with just about everything that was wrong with the world.
This happens with my Bible-belt students all the time. They come to UNC, meet thoughtful and critical people from all over the place, and they begin to resent their churched upbringing for not being interested in the things that seem to really matter in the real world.
But here's the problem: "the church" is not just this giant catch-all for all the wrongs in the world. "The Church" is a huge, glorious, stumbling, wonderful, mixed-up community of 2,000 years of broken and redeemed people who are in process. It is not all bad. It is not all good. It is a real, dynamic community of people--people who, according to our own theological understanding of the world, are created in God's image but who are cracked by the fall and by sin.
Without a nuanced understanding of the church, it is easy to either overly-romanticize the church or to overly-condemn the church. Both extremes are simply two sides of the same coin: demanding a perfect Bride for a perfect Christ before Her perfection has been made manifest. One side ignores the ugly parts, the other ignores the beauty that is already being worked out here on earth.
Jesus tells a parable where an enemy sows weeds in with the wheat. The servants ask the master if they should go through and remove the weeds but the master says to wait until the harvest so that none of the good wheat is lost. And so it shall be with the church. There is much that is broken in the church; there are many who claim to be Christ-followers who simply grasp for power, who manipulate, who steal and lie and exploit. They shall be dealt with. But not until the end.
In the mean time, there's two things we know about the church: 1. It is full of broken and messy people who we must not expect either too little or too much from. and 2. Jesus is not ashamed to call Her his beloved Bride. Holding on to both of these helps us to live in the tension of our own experience and understanding and evaluation of "the church" in all its' beauty and brokenness.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Go v. Accommodate
A friend of mine recently told me about a church plant that had as one of its eight core values "incarnational ministry to the city." But when an opportunity presented itself to share the space of an African-American, inner-city church facility, the head pastor evaluated his congregation and said, "we're not ready for that."
My friend went on to reflect that this is a pivotal place of difference between the church and the parachurch. Parachurch ministries have "mission" at the very core of their culture and they can afford to continue to have mission at the forefront of their values. Churches, by contrast. often have to choose between mission and tending to the people in their congregation.
Of course, these two aren't always in tension. But there seems to be critical junctures in the life of Christian organizations when they have to choose between mission and accommodation.
In one of the gospels, Jesus' last words are a resounding "GO!" And that "go" has echoed throughout the past two thousand years of global history--sometimes faithfully, sometimes less than faithfully.
So I love mission. Not at the expense of people but as an opportunity to bless people. And I love the church, especially when it's on mission. And I'm quite content for now to be in para-church world where I don't have to apologize quite so much for having mission at the forefront.
My guess is that one day I'll end up in church-land. Hopefully my experience of mission at the forefront in InterVarsity will be a blessing to me and to the people I have the opportunity to serve and work with.
My friend went on to reflect that this is a pivotal place of difference between the church and the parachurch. Parachurch ministries have "mission" at the very core of their culture and they can afford to continue to have mission at the forefront of their values. Churches, by contrast. often have to choose between mission and tending to the people in their congregation.
Of course, these two aren't always in tension. But there seems to be critical junctures in the life of Christian organizations when they have to choose between mission and accommodation.
In one of the gospels, Jesus' last words are a resounding "GO!" And that "go" has echoed throughout the past two thousand years of global history--sometimes faithfully, sometimes less than faithfully.
So I love mission. Not at the expense of people but as an opportunity to bless people. And I love the church, especially when it's on mission. And I'm quite content for now to be in para-church world where I don't have to apologize quite so much for having mission at the forefront.
My guess is that one day I'll end up in church-land. Hopefully my experience of mission at the forefront in InterVarsity will be a blessing to me and to the people I have the opportunity to serve and work with.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Jesus Suffers
A quick look back over the first five chapters of Hebrews and one thing is clear: before Jesus Sits, Jesus Suffers.
Here are some of the highlights of Jesus' suffering:
-Jesus suffers death so that he might taste death for everyone (2:9)
-Jesus suffers in order that he might be made perfect (2:10)
-Jesus suffers to be able to help us/empathize and sympathize with us in our own struggles (2:18)
-Jesus suffers in order to learn obedience (5:8)
There's a couple of take-homes here.
First, Jesus is God become human. The "lowest common denominator" in all our shared humanity is suffering. Certainly suffering is not distributed equally across all people.; indeed, some seem to get through life with very little obvious suffering. But suffering is nevertheless the most commonly shared experience in all of humanity. We suffer, and so Jesus does as well.
But second, notice that there's always an "in order to" or "so that" attached to Jesus' experiences of suffering. Jesus enters into suffering not merely to experience it and so to throw a meaner pity-party for us when we, too, enter into suffering. Instead, Jesus enters into the full experience of suffering in the land of the ruins and he redeems it.
The tragedy of life here among the ruins is not that some suffer but that some suffer without purpose, without some sort of redemptive benefit on the other side. Jesus enters into all our suffering and he does so in order to ensure that for all who will trust him, walk in him, live in him, for all who would be united with him, all our sufferings might be forced to serve us rather than the other way around. The tyrant of suffering which once held us captive has now become our servant. In Christ, all of our hardships must bless us.
Of course, we do have a critical role to play in this. Apart from faith-full perseverance sufferings can bear the fruit of cynicism and despair and bitterness in our hearts. And so the call from the Scriptures to hold on, to walk in this way by faith no matter what. The promised rest for our souls is ahead.
Here are some of the highlights of Jesus' suffering:
-Jesus suffers death so that he might taste death for everyone (2:9)
-Jesus suffers in order that he might be made perfect (2:10)
-Jesus suffers to be able to help us/empathize and sympathize with us in our own struggles (2:18)
-Jesus suffers in order to learn obedience (5:8)
There's a couple of take-homes here.
First, Jesus is God become human. The "lowest common denominator" in all our shared humanity is suffering. Certainly suffering is not distributed equally across all people.; indeed, some seem to get through life with very little obvious suffering. But suffering is nevertheless the most commonly shared experience in all of humanity. We suffer, and so Jesus does as well.
But second, notice that there's always an "in order to" or "so that" attached to Jesus' experiences of suffering. Jesus enters into suffering not merely to experience it and so to throw a meaner pity-party for us when we, too, enter into suffering. Instead, Jesus enters into the full experience of suffering in the land of the ruins and he redeems it.
The tragedy of life here among the ruins is not that some suffer but that some suffer without purpose, without some sort of redemptive benefit on the other side. Jesus enters into all our suffering and he does so in order to ensure that for all who will trust him, walk in him, live in him, for all who would be united with him, all our sufferings might be forced to serve us rather than the other way around. The tyrant of suffering which once held us captive has now become our servant. In Christ, all of our hardships must bless us.
Of course, we do have a critical role to play in this. Apart from faith-full perseverance sufferings can bear the fruit of cynicism and despair and bitterness in our hearts. And so the call from the Scriptures to hold on, to walk in this way by faith no matter what. The promised rest for our souls is ahead.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Home
I've been gone this week at Regional InterVarsity staff meetings. Mid-way through my thirteenth year on campus, I continue to be grateful and impressed with the quality of our Regional leadership and the quality of campus staff that we hire. There aren't many jobs where your supervisors care as much about you as a person as they do about the job you've been hired to do. There aren't many jobs where your co-workers are one hundred percent quality people.
And so last night as we wrapped up our time together, I was actually a little sad. Our Regional staff team is spread out across Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. There are many friends working in far-off places that I see only rarely.
But then this afternoon I walked through the door. And there was my four-year-old son, Davis. With a sweet smile and a big hug he ran up to me with the best greeting any daddy could receive: "I missed you daddy."
Son, I missed you too. It's good to be home.
And so last night as we wrapped up our time together, I was actually a little sad. Our Regional staff team is spread out across Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. There are many friends working in far-off places that I see only rarely.
But then this afternoon I walked through the door. And there was my four-year-old son, Davis. With a sweet smile and a big hug he ran up to me with the best greeting any daddy could receive: "I missed you daddy."
Son, I missed you too. It's good to be home.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Redemption's Marker
At the end of last school year I wrote a letter to friends and supporters saying that I had never had a harder year. And really it was at this time last year that the cacophony came to it's zenith.
Last year at this time on campus the number of students in spiritual, emotional and/or academic crisis was overwhelming. Last year at this time on campus I was embroiled in more conflicts with students than I've ever been before--some of it was my fault or made worse by how I handled the situation, some of it was making hard, right decisions that my staff team and I took heat for.
I have to fundraise to be on campus. That is, friends and family and local churches and alumni give money each year to pay my salary and expenses and all that. This can be a serious place of stress and difficulty for many staff. But I'd never had any troubles raising my budget...until last year. The money wasn't coming in as it had in the past. And I wasn't sure where it would come from.
Last year at this time at home, we were in serious financial anxiety. In the previous twelve-ish months we had over $10,000 in home and auto repair that had wiped out our savings. We were one blown head gasket or water pipe bursting away from having to consider doing something fairly drastic like sell our house or a body part on Ebay. And we were stressed.
And so I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment as I've been thinking about redemption to set up redemption's marker.
Last Friday afternoon I met with my last group of students for the semester. As I walked across campus and towards my car, I was teary-eyed. While no semester of ministry with students is pain or drama-free, this semester has been a very sweet one. I've seen the Lord deliver students from hard places. I've seen the Lord take young leaders and mold them into wise and strong ones. I've seen students move from places of isolation and loneliness to making significant decisions for community that has paid off in much blessing. I have seen God work and bless and multiply the ministry.
It has been a sweet, sweet semester on campus.
Last summer, the Lord raised up donors to help to keep me on campus. A couple of major donors literally contacted me out of the blue to ask if they could support me. God has provided.
At home, we had the addition of Emma Kate in early September. Before she was born I looked at the calendar and thought that by the time mid-December rolled around, we'd be more or less toast. Given the track record of our first two kids, sleep was not going to be had for the first eight to twelve months.
But for the most part she has been a dream baby. She is laid back and flexible and she sleeps like a champ. And now she readily gives sweet smiles to her mom and dad and big brother and big sister.
And so I head into this Christmas season with much to be thankful for. I have already received a bevy of gifts from the Lord. Gratitude to the Lord does not come as easily for me as complaining to him does. This redemption's marker is one way for me to help change that.
Last year at this time on campus the number of students in spiritual, emotional and/or academic crisis was overwhelming. Last year at this time on campus I was embroiled in more conflicts with students than I've ever been before--some of it was my fault or made worse by how I handled the situation, some of it was making hard, right decisions that my staff team and I took heat for.
I have to fundraise to be on campus. That is, friends and family and local churches and alumni give money each year to pay my salary and expenses and all that. This can be a serious place of stress and difficulty for many staff. But I'd never had any troubles raising my budget...until last year. The money wasn't coming in as it had in the past. And I wasn't sure where it would come from.
Last year at this time at home, we were in serious financial anxiety. In the previous twelve-ish months we had over $10,000 in home and auto repair that had wiped out our savings. We were one blown head gasket or water pipe bursting away from having to consider doing something fairly drastic like sell our house or a body part on Ebay. And we were stressed.
And so I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment as I've been thinking about redemption to set up redemption's marker.
Last Friday afternoon I met with my last group of students for the semester. As I walked across campus and towards my car, I was teary-eyed. While no semester of ministry with students is pain or drama-free, this semester has been a very sweet one. I've seen the Lord deliver students from hard places. I've seen the Lord take young leaders and mold them into wise and strong ones. I've seen students move from places of isolation and loneliness to making significant decisions for community that has paid off in much blessing. I have seen God work and bless and multiply the ministry.
It has been a sweet, sweet semester on campus.
Last summer, the Lord raised up donors to help to keep me on campus. A couple of major donors literally contacted me out of the blue to ask if they could support me. God has provided.
At home, we had the addition of Emma Kate in early September. Before she was born I looked at the calendar and thought that by the time mid-December rolled around, we'd be more or less toast. Given the track record of our first two kids, sleep was not going to be had for the first eight to twelve months.
But for the most part she has been a dream baby. She is laid back and flexible and she sleeps like a champ. And now she readily gives sweet smiles to her mom and dad and big brother and big sister.
And so I head into this Christmas season with much to be thankful for. I have already received a bevy of gifts from the Lord. Gratitude to the Lord does not come as easily for me as complaining to him does. This redemption's marker is one way for me to help change that.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Redemption
Some fight against this offer of living life under the umbrella of grace and mercy on the grounds that they would much rather stand or fall on their own merit rather than have their fate decided by someone or something else.
Good luck with that.
If redemption is the universal cry of our souls, what sign or proof do we have either in our own personal experience or the experience of human history that we are able to secure that redemption for ourselves?
Redemption, that is the making right of all the broken places in our lives, seems to require some sort of in-breaking from the outside. To draw upon my eleventh grade chemistry recollections, if our lives are "closed systems" then we are stuck with our own baggage and redemption is impossible. If all of human history is a closed system then humanity as a whole is doomed.
But the Christian story is that the precise in-breaking that is needed to turn the story around has happened. When we were stuck in our regrets and guilt and shame, God came to get us. God himself has become one of us, entered into our regrets and guilt and shame and finally into death itself and overcome all of it. He has redeemed all of History in precisely the only way it could be redeemed.
And so you and I don't have to struggle and strive for the redemption our souls long for. It has been fought for and won already on our behalf and it's now offered to us as a free gift.
Merry Christmas.
Good luck with that.
If redemption is the universal cry of our souls, what sign or proof do we have either in our own personal experience or the experience of human history that we are able to secure that redemption for ourselves?
Redemption, that is the making right of all the broken places in our lives, seems to require some sort of in-breaking from the outside. To draw upon my eleventh grade chemistry recollections, if our lives are "closed systems" then we are stuck with our own baggage and redemption is impossible. If all of human history is a closed system then humanity as a whole is doomed.
But the Christian story is that the precise in-breaking that is needed to turn the story around has happened. When we were stuck in our regrets and guilt and shame, God came to get us. God himself has become one of us, entered into our regrets and guilt and shame and finally into death itself and overcome all of it. He has redeemed all of History in precisely the only way it could be redeemed.
And so you and I don't have to struggle and strive for the redemption our souls long for. It has been fought for and won already on our behalf and it's now offered to us as a free gift.
Merry Christmas.
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