Pursuing results

I am thinking tonight about how absolutely gung-ho we all are about “results.” We judge whether something is worth doing by the results we can expect from it. I am not just talking about something that happens in our workplace either. We go through some form of mental calculus about the amount of skin-darkening sunshine we might be able to absorb before venturing out by the pool with our towel. I have to somehow be assured that my occasional stints in front of the TV will pay off with some degree of added entertainment or information value or the provision of some mind-numbing background while laundry is being folded.

But everything has to pass the “results test,” or it just doesn’t fly.

Which is exactly the way we also approach our pursuit of the spiritual disciplines. Our question becomes, “What will I get out of…?”, fill in the blank. Sure I will pray, or worship, or meditate, or fast, or study but first tell me what the payoff will be. And how soon I will receive it, too.

We have enough spiritual awareness to know that our peace, our joy, our contentment will not come from such transitory sources as our jobs, home, or hobbies. We know that God is the source of everything, tangible and intangible.  So we seek to bend our efforts to solving the equation, “X hours of the practice of the classic spiritual disciplines equals Y units of spiritual maturity.” We’re not sure what the answer is, but we know we need more Y, so we pile on a double helping of X.

The problem then comes when we don’t see the level of spiritual maturity (or peace or contentment) that we thought would result from our efforts. We gripe to God. We slack off in our practices. We wonder what the point is.

Here’s a head scratcher for you: what if the point is not “results” at all? What if there is a completely different reason we engage the spiritual disciplines other than what we will get out of it?

Well, the fact of the matter is, there IS a completely different reason. Shockingly it turns out that the reason we pray, or meditate, or fast, or worship has very little to do with us and a WHOLE LOT to do with God. It is hard-wired into our DNA. Our practice of turning toward God through one of the many modalities commonly in use today is nothing more and nothing less than the proper response of creatures reaching toward the Creator. The fact that certain types of results often follow and that people talk and write about them is all well and good. But it is clearly beside the point. We pray because we were made to pray.

Worth it?

Just got back from 10 amazing days in Maui where we snorkeled, scuba’d, hiked, drove, played, spent time with family and friends and just generally relaxed. The only monkey wrench in the works was having to go to the emergency room on the last day and get a treatment for a case of “swimmer’s ear;” a minor, though painful bacterial infection of the outer ear canal. First there was the ER visit and then a (discounted) $100 prescription of ear drops to fill.

We then arrived yesterday at our De Soto, Kansas home (in 98 degree heat) to discover that 1.) the automatic garage door opener was broken… $233 to repair. 2.) the air conditioner was not working… $805 to repair. If my theology were a little less sound I could see myself concluding that we were being punished for going away and having such an amazingly good time in Hawaii. 

So the question is: was it worth it, considering the hefty return price tag? I will let the photo below answer for me.

Beach at Wailea at sunset. Priceless!

Two elephants in the room.

We just finished the Kansas East Annual Conference less than two hours ago… our last at Baker University for at least the next year. As we walked out the front door of Collins Auditorium, there they were… the two elephants who had showed up in the room at the beginning of Conference without ever being introduced or acknowledged. I almost went to the microphone toward the end of the session and pointed them out, but at that point things were moving along on a WAY different wavelength, so I ended up ignoring them too.

But that is one of the reasons we have blogs, isn’t it? I will admit, it feels a little cowardly to wait until I am safely behind the shelter of my keyboard to name the elephants, but I am still working on that whole “bold and prophetic voice” thing.

Elephant #1 was named GracePoint. More specifically the elephant was the decision of the founding pastor of GracePoint United Methodist Church to leave the denomination earlier this year. If you talk to this pastor, his version of why it was necessary to “de-Methodize” his church was because he had bold, innovative ideas about how to make new disciples for Jesus Christ that were just not being well received by a staid, stodgy, interested-only-in-defending-dying-churches denomination… a denomination that could not “get with” his radical thinking. Many discussions with people familiar with the case paint a dramatically different picture, but we won’t really get into that right now. Nonetheless, much blood was spilled and many tear shed over this event in the life of our Kansas Area. I guess we didn’t want to open wounds that have only recently begun to heal, but I believe valuable lessons still remain to be learned from this situation.

The second elephant was the official “un-shunning” of Adam Hamilton by his home conference. Craziest thing… the man who leads the largest, most vibrant, healthiest, and dynamic church in our denomination has up until now been something of a pariah in his own annual conference. That he was a delegate to last year’s General Conference (for the first time, I might add), and was invited to be the plenary speaker at Kansas East AC (also for the first time) seem to indicate that we are finally O.K. with him being a part of our group. 

I bring both of these up because they are very closely related to each other. When Bryson Butts (the GracePoint guy) talks about being blocked and resisted by his denomination in his attempts to be innovative, it is not really that hard to believe. We do that. We regularly throw cold water on people who think differently and do things differently. As he grew and led Church of the Resurrection into its amazing position of global prominence and leadership, Adam was very often on the receiving end of volleys of sour grapes and tomatoes (metaphorical) from other pastors and even from one previous bishop. “Stop growing so much!” seemed to be the message. “Stop making the rest of us look bad,” was what was really being said.  

But whereas Bryson quit, took his ball, and went home, Adam stayed. Adam continued to love his denomination, in spite of the crummy way it sometimes treated him. In fact, Adam has turned a significant amount of energy and attention toward the task of revitalizing and renewing his denomination, recognizing the amazing heritage and gift we – as United Methodists – have all received from John Wesley and his successors. It is truly a denomination worth saving. This might be a little overly dramatic for some, but Methodism –  done right, done faithfully, done with the humble, yielded approach of John and his fellow Holy Clubbers – might just be the thing that will save the world.

It is sad to see Bryson and GracePoint now on the outside looking in. But the prayer and the challenge I wanted to issue to my fellow Kansas Easters as they left the room today was to join me in a pledge to STOP beating up on the innovative leaders among us! As we go forward into the next quadrennium, united behind our commitment to “Rethink Church” and welcome those who don’t look, think, or act like “us,” can we also make a pledge to welcome those INSIDE our fellowship who think differently? Can we make room at the table for the young, excited leaders who want to try stuff that we haven’t ever tried before? When a young person approaches one of us “old-timers” – as apparently actually happened in one Kansas East church – with an idea to paint a giant Cross and Flame on the roof of the church to appeal to people in planes flying overhead, can we please first praise him for his enthusiasm for spreading the Good News BEFORE we tell him how dumb his idea is? 

The elephants at annual conference were pretty big and embarrassing, but I believe they were elephants that were there to help us be a better version of the body of Christ than we were when we came in.

That’s all I wanted to say.

Is God a luxury?

Earlier this week I met with a group of people from our church. The common denominator of the group was that everyone in the room – except for the church staff people – was either out of work or about to be. The purpose of the gathering was to offer prayer and support to each other in the difficult period of life that unemployment truly is. At the end of the evening my mind began formulating a dubious proposition I sincerely hope is not the slightest bit true. 

I am a pastor, but I know about unemployment. I have been unemployed. The longest stretch was probably seven months back in 1989. I remember it as being truly one of the most difficult stretches in my life, from an emotional and spiritual perspective. The feelings of frustration, of seeing hopes first raised when you spot an opening that would be “just perfect” for you, only to not even get a return letter or phone call from your inquiry; the ritualistic act of “suiting up,” getting your best motivated, go-get-’em face and voice on and charging into an interview, only to find out that there are still 30 other highly qualified candidates to interview and “we will get back to you,” to going day after day after day without even a sniff of a prospect. Worthlessness is a very palpable sense that has to be aggressively kept at bay to keep from just curling up in the fetal position and staying there for weeks. 

And so the idea of this group was that it would (and will) be a place where people can come and just pour out their hearts to each other about what is happening to them. To say the kinds of things to each other that they dare not go home and say to spouse or children.  It is not meant to be a place for “tips and tricks” in the job search. It is just a support group in the truest sense of the word. 

And so here is what happened at my table: each person was first invited to just go around the table and “tell your story.” One guy (and they were all men. We decided to gender divide) had been unemployed for seven months. Another for over a year. A third had been out of the job market for seven years and now had to get back in because of his wife’s serious illness. 

But as the stories were shared, and real emotions expressed, the conversation turned very quickly into a problem-solving session. As the out-of-work engineer told about the places he had tried to find a job, someone chimed in with ideas for fine-tuning his resume. As the man re-entering the workforce spoke, suggestions were flying at him about courses he should enroll in, places he should call, resume writing websites to visit. All were VERY good suggestions. Some touched on areas the person had not considered before. 

But as I continued to try and remind them… this was NOT the purpose of our gathering. This kind of “monkey wrenching” conversation was for another place and time. Here we were meant to be about saying things like, “You know, I sent out six resumes today and came away feeling like I might as well have spit into the ocean. I am depressed and my wife is really starting to lose her patience with me. Why is this happening to me?” 

Part of the explanation is that it was a group of guys. Guys fix stuff. Guys are all about “gittin’ ‘er done.” Guys don’t like to talk about, let alone EXPLORE feelings. I get that. I am a guy too. The other part of the explanation is that I was not facilitating the discussion as well as I should have been. Probably some truth to that, too.

But here is the unsettling thought that began forming in my head: is our pursuit of a relationship with the Creator and Sustainer of All That Is … is that a pursuit we feel we are only equipped for when all of our basic needs are being met and we are no longer in fear for the longevity of the roof over our heads? Do we believe the ability to ponder spiritual realities, to take the time to meditate on scripture, pray, and listen to the “still, small voice of God” is shaped in some way by our economic standing in the world?

I most assuredly hope not. And I take as a solid validation of the off-basedness of my musings my experiences traveling through the Third World. There I have met person after person after person who had little more than the clothes on their back, and yet who obviously knew, loved, and absolutely venerated God. I think particularly of some of the women I met in Guatemala, most notably those at the UPAVIM Co-op.

But maybe we think God is a luxury, a pastime reserved for the contentedly idle moments in our lives when we can lift our eyes above the daily grind of existence and ponder eternity.  If we do think that, we are a sadly mistaken – and wretched – bunch of folks. 

If this is our take on the time and place for our spiritual practices, we are people who have missed the entire point of the Christian life. We do not even vaguely understand the Savior who touched the lepers, who blessed the prostitutes, and who sat down and ate with the “sinners” of his day. 

I sure hope I am wrong about this. Please tell me I am.

How Would He Know?

Every time I hear multi-mega millionaire Mick Jagger sing the words, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find, you get what you need” I ask this question. But I am sure that there were times in his life that he was not able to satisfy any urge or whim at the drop of a hat. He must have even experienced hunger, in a long ago and far away time.

Source notwithstanding, I still think this is a brilliant insight on life. It even begins to border on the spiritual when you stop to raise the question of how “what you need” gets defined for any of us. If you squinted really hard you can begin to see how this tuneful rock anthem can be heard calling us to a stance of fundamental gratitude for the provisions of life we find on our hands… regardless of how well they match up with the hopes and dreams we might have entertained.

 

Take my situation right now as I sit here writing this entry. Joan and I made arrangements months ago (Truth watch: OK, Joan made the arrangements. But when the time came to endorse them, I gave them a very enthusiastic thumbs up!) to take a few days off in mid-February and get away for a mini-vacation. We wanted to pick some place warm so that we could escape the freezing Kansas City winter and have a nice little break. Celebrate Recovery was launching at the end of January, so it seemed like a good time to break away. 

Great idea, eh?

Great idea until little things like the jet stream and temperature inversions and barometric pressures start cavorting around crazily, doing strange and unusual things, the net result of which was that we left a sunny, 70 degree day in Kansas City and landed in a drizzly 55 degree Phoenix. Then after spending a couple of days in “The Valley of the Sun,” with Joan’s sister, we drove off to our little mountaintop hideaway in Sedona. Of course, as we drove north up Highway 17 the rain became chunky. By the time we were settled in and ready to head off to the local grocery store to buy our supplies, a full-blown snowstorm was upon us.  We awoke on Tuesday morning to see six inches of new snow on the ground, by one local’s account, the most they have seen here in “quite a long time.” And then pulling up the Kansas City Star on-line I found that sunny and 59 degrees was the order of the day in K.C.

(However the shock of the weather disparity was mitigated somewhat by my joy at seeing that Missouri had beaten KU in basketball the night before).

We certainly did not get what we wanted. But as it turned out, we did get a whole lot of exactly what we needed on this trip. We did not get warm sunshine. We did not get to take two or three spectacular hikes in the red rock region of Sedona (although we did take a really nice hike in the Superstition Mountains before leaving Phoenix). But we did get a great time away… lots of time spent in relaxation and conversation and reading… we got breathtaking views of the red rocks covered with white snow against a brilliant blue sky and time to pick up the blogging practice again. And we got “times of refreshment” as Paul calls them.

Mick says, “You can’t always get what you want.” The Psalmist says, “THIS” – not some other, not one that you hoped for or dreamed of, not one that you read about in a magazine article or saw a picture of somewhere, not one that your best friend told you about and said you really ought to try, but THIS very exact one, “… is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24).

I say “AMEN.”

putting away Christmas awa

Here it is… New Year’s Day 2009! Not wanting to be a total couch potato/football fiend I began bringing boxes up from the basement in order to start taking down the Christmas decorations. I mean, why not? It is a day off work and it needs to be done sooner or later. But somehow it just seems too darned soon. Plus I really like the way they make the whole house look with the lights ringing the two banks of windows, the tree with its glittery and nostalgic decorations hanging there and the cards from friends and relatives. Are you really sure we have to take it all down? 

Probably not. But most of the time in life – as in Christmas decor – beginning something new means putting away something old. We love the stuff we know and are familiar with. We see it all the time and know how it works. We are not completely sold on the value of the thing we are moving toward and move toward it somewhat reluctantly. 

But the time has come and put away Christmas we must. Correction… put away Christmas DECOR. Putting away Christmas is another matter completely. Keeping the spirit of God incarnate alive in our hearts is something we can do every day, regardless of the season. 

Long live Christmas! Christmas decor can go back to the basement.

Holiday “drift”

‘Tis the day after Christmas and all through the house… dishes are waiting to be put away, some gifts are still sitting there under the tree, wrapped in their decorative coverings, waiting for the next wave of gift giving scheduled for Sunday evening. I am still gratefully basking in the memory of being a part of seven of our church’s 16 Candlelight Christmas Eve services. Yes, 16. I can see how you might conclude that this could drive someone to the point of cynical saturation on the whole subject of Christmas, but I loved every minute of it, frankly. There was a point at which it did seem a little bit like a “gospel of hope and light assembly line”. But to be able to see the glow on the faces of people as they exited the sanctuary kept it all in perspective. People seemed genuinely grateful to be given the chance to hear the “old old story” told again in a refreshingly new perspective and to know that God walks with them, regardless of the particular darkness they might be experiencing.

But here is the question that really began rolling around in my mind yesterday (Christmas Day, 2008) as I drove around: of all the holidays we take time off to observe each year, which observance has drifted the furthest from the spirit and energy of that holiday’s originating event? For example, I thought about the Fourth of July… do picnics, parades, and an orgy of colorful night-time explosions adequately help remind us of the significance of the signing of the Declaration of Independence? Or Thanksgiving… unless your family makes a practice of sitting down and reading a copy of the Mayflower Compact before the big feast, how far has stuffing ourselves with food, watching the Macy’s Parade and a couple of meaningless NFL games on TV drifted from the originating intent of this holiday? There is no accurate measuring stick by which to gauge the degree of “holiday drift,” but these two certainly have more than their fair share.

And  what about Christmas? By many accounts, this may be the holiday that has suffered the most “drift” of them all. I have one friend – decidedly non-religious – who makes a point of traveling with his wife every December to a part of the world that does not celebrate Christmas. I think they went to Vietnam this year, actually. He does this because he is so disgusted with the “carnival of excess” that the season has increasingly become. 

So I guess the question becomes something like, “what do you do?” And “whose responsibility is it?” to correct Holiday Drift? I guess we have the choice to just go with the flow and let each holiday become what they want to become, guided in their development by those who derive the greatest gain from them. Or we can each decide to correct the drift in our own homes and wrest back control. It’s not easy, but each of us has to decide if it is ultimately worth it.

Spiritual D.I.Y.?

I am so proud of myself I could just about burst. Last Saturday I decided I would design and build a genuine miniature stable for our Nativity figurines to hang out in. We got these pieces – consisting of three wise men, Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus after Christmas last year when they were on sale at Hobby Lobby. They are made of a resin-like material and painted realistically to resemble what we imagine all those folks might have looked like. One of the wise men is even black, consistent with the folklore about Balthazar.

The tallest of the figures – Joseph – is 27 inches tall, and so my plans called for the roof of the stable to be at least 48 inches at its highest point. I will tell you, it really turned out to be quite a serviceable work. I drew the plans up, made measurements, went to Lowe’s for the lumber and hardware (the walls are hinged for easy take down and set up), and then went to work. I do not have a power saw, so all of the wood cutting was done with my hand saw. But after about three hours of sawing, measuring, nailing and labor, there it was… my masterpiece. (Maybe I will add a photo to this post tomorrow).

But here is the point where a little spiritualish reflection sneaks into the story; this was a project I could envision and tackle by myself. Even given my remedial carpentry skills and lack of a power saw. The task of finishing my unfinished basement, on the other hand, is another story completely. I look at it and ponder the plumbing, sheetrocking, electrical wiring, HVACing, carpet and/or tile laying and say more or less immediately, “No way. No how. I’m gonna have to hire some help.”

So how is it that you and I cannot seem to muster the same kind of healthy respect for the task of the renovation of our hearts (to use a Dallas Willard category) that we do for the renovation of our basements? Surely not because we consider the project to be the same kind of rudimentary job as building a miniature stable? Is there really much sense to the proposition that we, using our own insights and tools and skills, will easily jump right in, nail a few boards together, and come away with hearts and minds that reflect the depth and majesty that they were created for? I kind of think not, speaking entirely for myself. Some of you may be a whole lot more spiritually astute, but I need outside help. I need resources. I need the expertise and the perspective of folks that know a lot more than I do. I need the timeless wisdom of guidebooks like the Holy Bible. I need instruction from people who have walked this way and stand ready to help me see all of the ruts and potholes along the way.

In other words, I need a carpenter. Or else a carpenter’s Son. And so do YOU!

Thanksgiving church fire

My friend and colleague Michael had just helped his congregation finish the work on a brand new church building earlier this year after two years of sweat and love. They had been worshipping in a small  building that was not allowing them to grow the way they felt called to. It was a lengthy construction project that involved many weekends of labor by members of the congregation and friends from the community. Earlier this week a fire of mysterious origin gutted the entire inside of the sanctuary. Michael’s wife Steffani posted pictures of the burned sanctuary on Facebook Wednesday. It was gut-wrenching to look at the charred cross, the burned hymnals, the scattered and burned pieces of the nativity set and the warped computer and electronic equipment. 

Luckily no one was in the building at the time of the fire and so there were no injuries. But I can’t help but be deeply saddened for the damage to the hearts and minds of the congregation. Being a leader and worker in a church is hard enough when things are moving along smoothly. There are always too many things to do and not enough time or money to do them. The task of being the living presence of Christ’s love does not have hours or a season. Most of the time churches work on the 20/80 principle with 20 percent of the members doing 80 percent of the work. So when something extraordinary and devastating like this fire happens, I can just see the bottoms dropping out of the hearts of the faithful. 

What it does remind us of is the enduring truth of the well-known cliche that the church is what is left after the pastor skips town, the web site crashes, and building burns down. Of course, you hope that none of those things actually happens. 

At the moment I feel completely helpless. Professional clean-up crews are going to clean up the mess. Insurance will likely cover most of the cost of the damage. There is one thing that I can do and that everyone else can do, too. You can pray. Prayer is powerful and prayer changes hearts and minds. Prayer will be the energy that rebuilds the congregation’s saddened outlook and give them a future with hope.

Hey hey we’re the Nielsens!

My family and I are just completing a week of being a Neilsen family and have found it to be a surprisingly illuminating experience. The Nielsen survey, as you know, is the diary-keeping system that tracks the television viewing habits of a slice of the American public so that advertising rates can be set appropriately. The Nielsen people called a few weeks ago and asked if we would like to participate. My wife said, “Sure! Anything in the name of science!” thinking that, naturally, there would be an electronic gizmo we put on top of the TV that would automatically track what we watched. But not so. Several days later our five paper diaries – one for each television set in the house – arrived in the mail, complete with instructions on filling them out and TWO crisp one dollar bills. We were actually being PAID to work for Nielsen! 

At first it was kind of a pain to have to pull out the diary, write down the name of the station, the channel, the program, and note which people were watching. Eventually we got the hang of it and got into the swing of tabulating our viewing practices. 

There have been a couple of interesting awarenesses that have resulted from our Nielsen experience. First of all, we don’t seem to watch nearly as much television in this house as I thought might be the case. Sometimes it seems as if the dull blather of television white noise is a constant companion to every Brown family activity. But check the books… not at all the case! The second aha! for me was a reaffirmation of the sociologist’s insight that the very act of observation changes the thing being observed. For example, I am sure that there were instances when I really felt like plopping into the easy chair and clicking on the tube to do a little mindless channel surfing. But knowing I would have to write down each of the channels and shows I stopped at caused me to pick up a book instead. Not entirely a bad thing. And then there was the time that someone in the home – not to name any names, but one of the people who is NOT me – actually sat down with the intention of taking in 15 minutes of “The Real Housewives of Atlanta.” However, fearing how this might look in the diary, found something else less… well, QUESTIONABLE to watch. 

In the end, I am afraid that if the upcoming television schedule were determined based on the viewing habits of our household there would be nothing on any of your 587 channels of TV but HGTV, 24 hours a day!