All posts by Rod White

“Yes, and” about technology in honor of one of the originals

A life in the Spirit, Doing Theology, Film/TV, The Mission, , , , ,

1% discussing the fruit of their war technologyLast night I was in a rush to get home and enjoy my yearly viewing of Brother Sun, Sister Moon.  Still great. This year I was especially moved by how well it points out the sins of the one percent of the year 1200. Pietro di Bernadone (Francis’ father) looks suspiciously like Donald Trump, telling his son to pillage a particular relic when he attacks Perugia in order to save them a “fortune in indulgences” and picking up heirlooms “for almost nothing” in the postwar turmoil. Most years I miss that theme because I am so preoccupied with watching each of Francis’ circle of friends wake up to their longing for faith in a world gone wrong.

My technology delayed me

Ironically, I was in a rush to get home to watch a movie about my simplicity-adopting hero because my technology delayed me. First, my credit union mobile app would not process a particular check I wanted to deposit — the error message said it could not read the numbers, then it said I had already deposited the check and couldn’t do it again! I spent a while arguing with my phone. I called the bank and was sent to a number that did not answer. Then I went to an ATM only to realize I did not remember the right pin code (since I was retrained to use the mobile app). I finally got home and could not immediately figure out how to use the DVD player because I have been retrained for Roku.

When I sat down for my anticipated reverie, I was a bit exhausted — a bit tempted to give up and scroll through some screens while catching up on cable news, the next episode of the strange and prophetic Mr. Robot, or something numbing like that. Instead, I pressed on and enjoyed watching Francis throw his father’s belongings out the window. In the movie version of his life, Francis is propelled toward his conversion to radical Christianity by a visit to the sweatshop in the family basement he had thus far ignored. His father almost beats him to death after he takes the workers into the sun for an afternoon in which “no one did a lick of work.” I noticed the parallels.

Our dialogue set me up

I was set up for frustration with my commitment/subjugation to various forms of technology by our discussion last Monday of our theology of technology. We bravely waded in to the huge subject and ended up with a rather large summary doc that we have stored in Google awaiting some time when we have enough energy to wade in again. I think we are getting to some good thinking. For instance, we took a few of Circle of Hope’s proverbs and pointed them at technology. Here’s a sample:

  • Our deliberate attempts to make disciples are “incarnational,” friend to friend, so we accept that what we do will almost never be instant.  — Being an organism, being incarnational may not be efficient; reducing processes down to efficiency is not automatically best.
  • People should be skeptical if our message does not originate from a community that demonstrates the love of Christ. — Depersonalizing data collection and screen usage could be antithetical to what we are going for.
  • Life in Christ is one whole cloth. As we participate in and love “the world,” we bring redemption from the Kingdom of God to our society. Jesus is Lord of all, so we have repented of separating “sacred” and “secular.” — Technology is not intrinsically wrong; it is a means to God’s ends in our hands.
  • We are “world Christians,” members of the transnational body of Christ; concerned with every person we can touch with truth and love. — Communication technology is amazing, we need to learn how to speak the language and touch the hearts of those submerged in it.
  • The church is not a “thing” that does things; it is not a building. We are the church and we support one another as Jesus expresses himself through us. — In a digitized, mechanized, roboticized economy, it will be a struggle to be personal.
  • Those among us from “traditional” Christian backgrounds are dying to our precious memories of “church” in order to bring the gospel into the present with great flexibility. — Like it or not, the future is rapidly coming upon us. It is not OK to say nothing about what technology is making us.

Francis’ simple joy sets me straight

 Today, on Francis Day, I intend to keep it simple. But I do not see my example from the 1200’s as a simpleton. He imagined a worldwide mission of peace and community in Christ. He even went to Egypt and got an interview with the sultan who was warring against European crusaders in Palestine (again, a strangely familiar situation). I think we will end up with some good theology to offer a world beset by virtual bigots, techno terrorists and corporate home invaders because we have the perennial sensibilities of Francis and of anyone who simply wants to follow Jesus simply. As Richard Rohr describes him in one of last year’s best books Eager to Love in the chapter “An Alternative Orthodoxy:”

Francis’ starting place was human suffering instead of human sinfulness, and God’s identification with that suffering in Jesus…In general, Francis preferred ego poverty to private perfection, because Jesus “became poor for our sake, so that we might become rich out of his poverty” (2 Cor. 8:9)…

Francis’ was a radically Christi-centric worldview, but one that nonetheless recognized the Church as the primary arena in which this good news could be protected and disseminated. He was a non-dual thinker….[He saw] the living Body of Christ, first of all, everywhere, and then the organized Church was where the “hidden Mystery,” could most easily be recognized, talked about, developed, and praised. Most of us come at it from the other side, “My church is better than your church,” and never get to the real universal message. We substitute the container for the actual contents, and often substitute our church structure for the gospel or the kingdom of God. Francis was an extraordinary “yes, and” kind of man, which kept him from all negativity toward structures or other groups (p. 84).

I think I can nurture a “yes, and” kind of approach to technology (at least the part I don’t throw out of the window). Today, that means becoming poor in spirit and poor with others so we can be rich in Jesus, It means less stress about the containers and more attention to the contents. It means straining out the gnat of goodness and not swallowing every camel the sophisticating salespeople flash before my eyes. It means wading in and trusting Jesus to save me, again.

If someone puts the Geiger counter on you, stand in grace

A life in the Spirit, , , , , , ,

I admit that Donald Trump made me pull my hair out last night — interrupting, bullying, talking about 400 pound people and other tabloid interests. It was kind of embarrassing.

debate vs hillary donald

But I also learned a bit about what people like about him. Here’s what I think: Everyone is becoming a bit sick of what I call “Geiger counter” accountability. What I mean is the feeling that some kind of powerful person or entity is holding a tester over you to pick up some tiny particle of being out of line. We’re always setting off the no-go alarm. We’re always getting the red notice that we have not filled out the inexplicable form properly (like I just experienced with a City of Philadelphia form). The Donald is just so splendidly incorrect, he gives us hope that a real person might be acceptable in reality.

Hillary Clinton has somehow mastered so much material that she can actually function well in political unreality. She stood up very well under 100 million skeptical, critical, mean-spirited eyes — so well people have started criticizing her for being robotic. That is a completely unfair assessment of her brilliance, but we are afraid of needing to be robotic ourselves. So maybe we like Donald bumbling and sputtering around like we do, or at least like people do to us.

The tested test

Unfortunately, we have a bit of Stockholm syndrome and have bonded with our captors. What I mean is: We do not like it when the testing instruments find some particle of something unacceptable in us (like elementary students dreading the sound of seals being broken on their tests). It is no fun being radioactive, but we turn around and test each other all the time. After the debate, the news commentators were immediately looking for some gaffe Trump or Clinton made and downplayed every plausible or substantive thing they said. The only thing that matters is that they should never make a mistake. Hillary can’t even faint without thousands of screens replaying the “Aha!” moment!

We would hate to have someone “Aha!” us and put us on the cover of some checkout-line magazine, but we “Aha!” others all the time. I am sure you have been in a conversation lately in which the person did not pay attention to the substance of what you were saying and stayed fixated on some side comment you made that was not factual. Husbands and wives spend a lot of time talking about how “I did not say that last Thursday” or “No, you certainly did do that in the spring of 2003.”

Looking for the flaws

We end up wondering why we are so unhappy. It is hard to be happy when it is a beautiful day and you are looking for the flaws in it: “It was the best day of the year, but my hair did not come out that good and someone told me I had a chocolate stain on my shirtfront, which I did.” It is hard to be happy when you are with a friend and you are scrolling your Tinder for a better partner. It is hard to be happy when you are about the best you have ever been and you are obsessing over a few pounds or that sin you committed yesterday. We have hard masters and we are hard masters in return. We even make Jesus into a hard master, even when he tells us that his yoke is easy and tells us he did not come to condemn anyone.

I guess the sister of hyper-criticism is hyper-denial. Hillary finally had to tell Donald last night, “I know you live in your own reality…” A lot of us are so unhappy, we do live in our own reality. The actual one is too daunting; we desert it.  We are overwhelmed by the flaws in it. It is totally out of control. We are perfectly free, supposedly, to be our own saviors and we can’t do it.  That sends us into denial. Just as likely, we have discovered that the love of that perfect lover will not save us, either. Wait until you get one of those or you become one and the Geiger counter comes out! This song that Rachel played for us on Sunday might seem even more absurd.

Imperfection is normal

I am in the habit of telling people that we’d all be dead if they were Jesus. What I mean is: There is an intrinsic accountability with being entrusted with eternal life, it is true. But we don’t get there by deserving it or achieving the perfection that we would require of others. (We even try to tell God it is not acceptable to receive flawed people into the kingdom!).

Jesus does not put us to the test all day so we can prove our value. He thinks we are valuable enough to die for right now. For some horrible reason, we have a tough time living in that reality. We might not even enjoy seeing how people right in front of us are standing there showered with the grace of God. We have trouble appreciating the great grace in which we stand ourselves (Romans 5:2).

Appreciate the great grace in which you stand right now, and stand. If someone puts the Geiger counter on you, don’t worry if they find you to be radioactive. They apparently do not have a measure for grace.

I am sick of the campaign…but still alternative.

A life in the Spirit, Building community, Music, The Mission, , , ,

When Gwen and I were travelling around the Poconos last weekend we came across a General Store in Lackawaxen. It had a big sign out front: “We trust in God. We trust in guns. We trust in Trump.“

We started complaining about the state of the country, but then we basically just changed the subject. We’re sick of it. I, in particular, am surprisingly sick of it. I have seen politics as a “hobby” since I was in high school – history in the making and all that, but what is going on now is so broken, I can’t even get serious on that level, anymore.

This presidential campaign is pounding us. How about you? Are you sick of it yet? The proportions of its nastiness and untruthfulness are so huge that I think people might finally wake up and realize that the world is a sin sick place. It has gotten so bad our general denial might be upended! Our leaders are helping Jesus out.  We might finally get to the place Paul hopes people will get:

Everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light.  This is why it is said:
“Wake up, sleeper,
rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”
Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Ephesians 5:13-16

I know, I know. Many people will just go into deeper sleep: pile into work, buy things, drink or drug, game until they can’t see straight and then buy an Oculus.

But I can’t help but think that many people will actually wake up and seek out alternativity. That’s where Jesus is waiting. There is an alternative: true life in Christ, a new life built together by his followers. I’ve always been serious about that, but now the country’s leaders are making me real serious.

I was singing this old song this morning that answered the longing of Jeremiah as he lamented the condition of Israel in his day — his country was a wreck. “Is there no balm in Gilead for my suffering people?” he cried. The song answers:

There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead,
To heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my hope again.

Jesus the balm.

I do get discouraged. I am not sure what will be left of our safe empire in a few years. I believe I will be fine, but what of all the unsuspecting, ill-financed, debt-ridden people? The children! What about the poor of the Philadelphia region? The prospect of big changes is daunting!

When we used to sing There is a Balm, we thought it was funny to sing “there is a bomb in Gilead” in honor of Israel’s nukes and the ongoing Palestinian oppression that blows up every few years. That’s not so funny these days, since there is a bomb in New York City and New York’s country is dropping bombs on families in Syria adding to the refugee crisis that has created the most instability the world has known in decades. I get discouraged.

But then the Holy Spirit revives my hope again. Sin happens every day – and will keep happening inside us and out. We’re sick. But our work in the Lord is not in vain. My wounds are not permanent. Our sins could not keep Jesus in the grave. I still know we are the alternative, and we need to be: a circle of hope wherever God takes us.

Seven ways we are avoiding the temptation to institutionalize

Leadership, The Mission,

I innocently wandered into “institution land” the other day. Someone lumped our church into the category. It felt strange when they politely said, “I don’t believe in institutional religion.” Meanwhile, here I feel like that bird above — and dead institutions are the cage! I’m one of the people who could have rejected Jesus because of bad institutions! It was a memorable moment  — memorable enough to write about.

The broad definition of “institution” is: a society established/organized/founded for a purpose, often charitable, educational or religious. That sounds fine, right? Then you remember that institutions become big, controlling establishments run by the funders or the leaders for themselves quite often. But Jesus was about as “anti-establishment” as you can get, wouldn’t you say?—isn’t that why the funders and leaders got him killed? When they were about to do it, he said:

“Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out.  And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” — Jesus in John 12:31-2

I’m a Jesus-follower, so I have nothing BUT fear when it comes to being a mere institution. They are, by definition, not all bad. But they are often led by the “princes of this world” who are not drawn to Jesus and are prone to merely preserving themselves. When it comes to the institutionalized church, I am as tired of it as anyone else [previous post]. I even protest its origins [previous post]. I am not interested in turning my relationship with Jesus into a program housed in a corporation that is mainly designed to preserve itself and profit the insiders who own it. So how do I keep people from labeling me “institutional” just because our Circle of Hope “society” resembles other religious people in various ways?

Here are some ways we’ve been trying to have a common purpose without becoming the establishment.

  1. We try to provide real help for people in real need.

Our greatness is in serving others. That’s why we are organized in cells, so everyone gets a chance to be served and to serve. That’s why we support compassion and mission teams so people get a good chance to express their passion, not just conform to expectations.

And that’s why 20% of what we share in our Common Fund is designated for people who are in need or are not us. For an example, read this post about caring for North Koreans. Our thrift stores kick in about $100K a year more for the same purpose.

What’s more, one of our main goals in the next five years is to perfect our mutuality system, so we can help people with debt and other challenges. We also want to help start businesses so we can provide jobs and have alternative sources for funding what we want to do. What’s even more, that’s why we are not building temples but trying to find out how to do church planting in an expensive market without busting the bank.

  1. We dial down the hype.

We are committed to transparent truth telling, even if it makes the leaders look less than perfect (since we are less than perfect, that is not hard). The leaders don’t particularly trust anonymous, entitled institutions either, so we don’t want to excite everyone’s inauthenticity meter every five minutes.

  1. We are a team. We lose if people don’t play.

People mock the fact that many of us grew up on soccer teams that gave everyone a trophy at the end of the season. Maybe that idea has problems, but we still think everyone is important, whether they are on the travelling team or not. You don’t even have to like soccer analogies or feel comfortable not calling it football/futbol. Older people and younger people lead our church, men and women, people of all backgrounds. Everyone counts. We are a living body, not a program. And if people don’t live it, we are set up to die quickly.

  1. We are honest about debt.

We share money. We make big plans with our money. And we also know that debt keeps people from being a part of sharing or dreaming.

Let me go off on this for a minute, since this is a bigger relationship killer than people think. Debt is the big fact of life for most normal people. Factoids: 1) For households with credit-card debt, the average is $15,799. We know that so-called “millennials” feel the vise grip of debt more painfully than most. 2) We know that the average debt for graduating college seniors is more than $23,000, and recent graduates stumble in paying this back—since the jobs they’re finding are often part-time, lower-paying, service-sector.

When you add in a car loan, and an occasional bad spending decision, and people wonder if they can ever be legitimate members of the tribe. They have little to share. When the church is trying to get some money together for our common purpose the process can feel like another debt collection.

We’re trying to be honest about the struggle.  We need to be part of our common financial life for our spiritual health, for our connection to the body of Christ, and for our own dignity. So we talk about it; we share the problem; we help each other.

  1. We try to stay relational in the virtual age.

Tech is helpful, but God help us if it replaces face-to-face relating!. Even our websites (like this one), blogs, Facebook, Twitter, etc., are for beginning and extending relationships. Even if you see us on YouTube it is still very easy to see everyone in person. We’re in cells and we keep the Sunday meetings small enough to be touchable. We’re an anthill more than an agency. We are a gathering more than a show.

  1. We set goals we can meet.

Obviously, we do not meet ALL our goals. But we keep moving right along every year according to what we all think we should be doing. Everyone gets a say, if they want it. Our last few “maps” have been especially visionary, I think. We are in the middle of a lot of productive disruption and growth. It is challenging and exciting. But even when we have big dreams, we are also realistic. We want 100% participation from our covenant members and regular meeting attenders. So we don’t set the bar so high that many people won’t even consider getting over it. Our five-year plans did not come from some faceless bureaucracy; they came from our own dialogue with God and each other.

  1. The leaders are unafraid to be who they are.

Well, maybe we are a little afraid. After all, it is a labeling era—you think you are trying to follow Jesus and people tell you you’re just an institution as untrustworthy as all the others!

Nevertheless, our pastors, in particular, are “out there.” They are honest, they are open to hard questions—even if they can’t answer them! They try to go through depression and anxiety with the same mutuality and hope they suggest to others. They pray, and listen, and try to stay free from the temptations to get established in something that no longer needs Jesus to operate.

So if you think all churches are institutions in that bad, coercive, uncaring, unchanging establishment kind of way, is there any way you can give us an exemption? Jesus doesn’t fit the label, do we have to wear it? It would be interesting to hear your honest opinion when you came to visit us, or, better yet, got to know us. We’re doing something new over here that doesn’t match your stereotype. If we ever stop moving with what the Spirit is doing next, we’d like you to tell us.

Pushback for Donald Miller wormthoughts

Building community, ,

 

Donald Miller recently wrote a blog post on his Storyline blog which is connected to his Storybrand marketing firm (if you never heard of him, fine, skip this post). His post was about why he does not “go to church” very often (an act that Elaine told Nona was basically impossible the other day, since we are the church).

When he “went to church” (still impossible) the music team was great, but he loved the music more than the worship. He just doesn’t relate to God that way. He says: “As far as connecting with God goes, I wasn’t feeling much of anything.” Then he highlighted, “ I used to feel guilty about this but to be honest, I experience an intimacy with God I consider strong and healthy.”

These are such “Miller comments” and such influential wormthoughts that I want to answer back. He keeps saying:

  • What I feel is paramount and defining.
  • I used to feel guilty.
  • My own estimation of my experience is how I decide what is healthy.

There is a lot to protest here, but you can do that as you please. I’ll just note that these thoughts are apparently supposed to be liberating. (They certainly are s&#! Americans say!). Miller has been “liberating” evangelicals all over the country for years as he wandered around finding himself and selling books. He made some good points in his youth, but then he became a philosopher and created a marketing firm to keep us listening to him. Somehow, his experience is supposed to be important to everyone he professionally tries to loop into his constituency.

He was really just dashing off some musings about how people learn different ways to feed his blog machine. But he couldn’t resist being a theologian when he told people to Tweet an incendiary phrase that would draw people to the blog; it was sort of a Christian version of Orlando Bloom getting naked so people will remember he’s an actor. He said:

“But I also believe the church is all around us, not to be confined by a specific tribe.”

I doubt that more than 10% of Christians on the planet believe anything else. Why judge them all with your supposedly “personal” belief (shared by billions) that also sets up parameters for a special tribe who believe it like you (you more enlightened person that you are)?

He got what he wanted. A lot of people (like I am doing) responded to his post. So he wrote a follow up to defend himself. He began by apologizing for being “naïve” about how many people he might upset. He said, “All I can offer is my perspective, which I do not offer as an answer, only a contribution to a discussion” — the same kind of argument your husband gives you when he doesn’t dare disagree with you to your face but is going to stonewall you. This is all in the name of openness, of course.

He then proceeded to go on a LONG theological rant about people who exhaustively teach “tribal” theologies, setting up all sorts of straw people to knock down. I honestly did not read it carefully, since I fall into a category (ironically) of a person who learns more by doing than by lecture — he wrote that he doesn’t listen to others because he’s not feeling it, but boy can he lecture!

I write mainly to protest the “gospel of me” that is the basis of Miller’s theology. His anti-consumerism consumerism. His anti-marketing marketing. His ex-evangelical but still principle-based teaching. His anti-pulpit pulpiteering. His brand-judging branding.

He’s just so judgmental in the name of being non-judgmental! The blog posts I reference drip with judgment, all in the name of being self-disclosing and so free from any accountability to the larger audience from which he profits. He is on a long list of people who have somehow managed to get a lot of people to care how they feel while providing almost no relationship of any merit that would warrant such a connection.

I long for true alternativity. Genuine faith. Real community. Actual caring. Devoted prayer and mission. I think we are going for that. Miller doesn’t help. I’m sure he has said something, somewhere that is great. But I am sure someone in your cell or your pastor voiced a similar, contextualized, unpackaged idea at some point that you could touch, and dispute, forgive and apply together. That’s better.

For people who never think about church on Sunday.

The Mission, , , ,

(The picture above does NOT look like Circle of Hope — although the art would be nice — but it might be what you expect of “church”)

I know at least a couple of people will wander into my blog and read this. You are wondering what it would be like to “go to church.” You have never done it (or it was a long time ago). You know there are Christians everywhere and a lot of church buildings, but you never go to a meeting at one of them – except for ceremonies, which were interesting, but weird. Sometimes you even skip the wedding ceremony, if it is in a church building, and just go to the reception, which feels more normal.

Too bad we are so divided up

Let me tell you, many Christians are so insular they think everyone has gone to church and you aren’t there because you just don’t want to do it anymore. They think they are normal and you are off the rails. But you and I know that it is a very divided-up world. Many people think loving futbol is normal, but tons of people don’t even know where the Union’s stadium is (or that there is one) and many more have never even been to Chester, since they would never go there.

Somehow it has become acceptable to tolerate people by never getting to know them or even thinking of them, just leaving them alone — indifference masquerades as caring. This kind of “tolerance” has left millions of people totally isolated, because they can’t even find a group to be in, and it has left many groups totally ignoring other groups. I honestly think powerful forces use this ignorance against us so they are the only ones who have an overall outlook and the power to manipulate us.

What is “church” like?

So in case you are interested, let me tell you a bit about what Christians are doing on Sundays, or whenever they decide to have a group meeting. There are similarities and differences among the various groups of Jesus followers, and Circle of Hope is relatively unique.

  • You may have heard of Catholics and Episcopalians; they are centered on the “Eucharist” in their meetings – the ceremony that re-enacts the death of Jesus on the cross to forgive the sins of the world.
  • Presbyterians are centered on the speech when their (usually male) pastor teaches people about the Bible.
  • Pentecostals are centered on the experience of the Holy Spirit in the meeting.
  • Baptists are centered on telling people the good news about Jesus so they can be saved.
  • Many of the new churches in town are centered on their “show” so they can attract people to their program of personal and spiritual development.

Most churches have an historical thing they do and they keep perfecting it until most people at the meeting can predict what is going to happen. After participants have done the regular thing for a while they can “mail it in” or not even go to the meeting that often — but nobody thinks not showing up is authentic.

To be honest, if you came to most of these meetings, most of the people there would probably assume you know what is happening, even if you had never been to a church meeting. They might not even explain what they are doing because they don’t really expect a person like you to be there and are not prepared to tell you. They are mostly there for the people they already know. That’s not really a reflection of their convictions, but it is their habit — the same kind of habits that keep you in your present rut.

What about Circle of Hope?

Again, to be honest, even though Circle of Hope is not designed like these other groups, we have our ways, too, and some people do “mail it in.” Some people have been members of all the other groups I mentioned and brought their habits with them to our new church — some habits are good, some not so good. We’re a mix. In theory, we are an intentional mix. We are not just doing a program, we are inventing the meeting all the time. We don’t do what we do on Sundays to be something, we are something, so we do what we do. We are not “Circle of Hope-ites,” we are Jesus followers who organize to do what we think we should do. That is a big difference.

Our meetings are designed to be an expression of who we are as a body. They are not super professional, because we all do the meetings, not just the professionals. The times we share are often dialogical, since we want to participate. They are often experimental, since we are trying new things and various things from all the streams of Christian thought and practice. They often feel quite intimate, since we are a community, we are inclusive and we keep the meetings small. So all these things mean Circle of Hope’s meetings can seem deep and challenging, since you can’t really just mail them in. you have to do them and be a part. We are not a very good show to watch, even when we try to keep things relatable enough to give people some space to find their way into the group at their own rate.

coh nw

Last week, our new congregation in the Northwest (their cells are all over but their meeting is presently in Roxborough) began to figure out how they would express who they are as Circle of Hope, a new expression of the body of Christ in Northwest Philly. I can tell you, it is quite a process! They do not want to spend all their time just becoming a new grouping, even though that is important. They don’t want to have a lot of arguments over how to follow their new leaders and how to put together something that represents their interests, even though that is inevitable. They really want to figure out how they can relate to you, the person who has never been to any church meeting, including ours, and who might never even consider doing it, it would be so weird. If, for some reason, you got this far in this blog post, maybe you could go help them out. You don’t need to be a Christian or even understand what that means before you get there. You’ll be fine. Maybe you are just a nice neighbor and you’d like to encourage some people who are doing what they love and hoping to be a valuable part of the neighborhood, like a lot of other people you might already know.

Check out their blog here. Check out the details of their meetings, here: [cells], [Sunday meetings].

Frustration: 13 reasons people leave the church — and why you might be about to.

Building community

According to an old friend’s article last week, pastors are full of frustration because the church is messed up. Their general distress has been wrongly reported in many places. But he created an interesting list about what it is like to be stuck in the frustrating church of yesteryear while facing the many changes in our society. He was honest about what it is like to be stuck  in a set of assumptions about life that just don’t make sense anymore.

Is frustration with the church that common?

I thought his piece actually had a broader base than just pastors. I know that people from “traditional” churches rooted in the European past who are now part of Circle of Hope resemble a lot of the characterizations he lists — they often can’t figure out why they are so disenchanted. After I dashed off my reactions and gave them to our pastors, I thought the dialogue might be interesting to anyone who is part of Circle of Hope or who is just checking us out to see what church is like these days. So here is my rewrite for you.

I rewrote my friend’s complaints and numbered them. My replies are in italics. Sometimes I sympathize with him. But sometimes I protest. I think people would be less frustrated if they changed their minds and kept up with what Jesus is doing now — so sometimes I am talking back. Like our proverb says: Those among us from “traditional” Christian backgrounds are dying to our precious memories of “church” in order to bring the gospel into the present with great flexibility. I am trying to move with that.

 

Frustrated with churcch

You might experience one of these thirteen frustrations so deeply that you are ready to check out of the church – maybe you already have. Maybe it is hard for you to sit through your once-a-month visit to the Sunday meeting without focusing on how disconnected you feel. Let’s talk. Warning: this is a lot of big thinking in a little space ahead. But let’s talk.  

  1. The movers and shakers in our culture have “moved beyond” Christianity.

You didn’t know this would happen when you signed up for Jesus years ago — that your faith would increasingly be derided. It’s no fun.

I can’t imagine how anyone ever thought the movers and shakers had done more than tolerate Christianity to begin with. If my faith were not derided by the powers, I’m not sure I would be following Jesus. It is still not “fun” to be an outsider, I guess, but I signed up for more than fun.

  1. The religious self-help circuit and publishing industry (like all other commodities) have hyped Christians into thinking “this is the way!”

But then they go to the seminar, read the book, watch the program and try it– and it doesn’t really work, at least not for long. So they go looking for something else and the cycle continues.

It is true. Nothing works, exactly – even the science that purports to be exacting. So why would one get sucked into the vain promises of a whole industry based on selling solutions to the perennial problems of humankind? Life is more like keeping the jungle from swallowing your farm than like putting together an IKEA cabinet with poor, but ultimately effective instructions.We’re alive, no matter how they try to package us. 

  1. Believers have been taught that they are to be “examples” of faith to others, which means it’s hard to be a real human being.

They can be so busy producing exemplary programs for church, they haven’t pursued friendships where they can just be themselves. This is crushing over time.

Being an example of a real human being in relationship with God is the incarnational  dream job. Why would anyone let themselves become a program producer rather than a person. Why would they tolerate being an inauthentic example of something they aren’t? (And then blame their choice on others?). Holiness is not a product, it is a relationship.   

  1. Western culture is fragmenting into more and more “niche” cultures — which means, nobody totally digs your church and its ministry.

For some you’re too liberal, for others too conservative, etc. And people have less and less tolerance for what they don’t immediately resonate with.

So true. But so what? Why would someone value themselves according to whether others resonate with their “niche“? Have we really become that attuned to the market? Has Tinder really made us no more than someone trying not to be swiped left? Have the politicians really made us no more than a part of some left or right coalition (whatever left and right means)?

  1. You’re somewhere between 28-43 and you haven’t seriously pursued psychotherapy or you avoid cell groups, or avoid vulnerability in cell groups.

Therefore, your sense of self and personal value is tied to whether your church feels successful, whether you fit into it, whether it pushes your buttons or makes you feel happy. This can be hell in bad times and not much better even in the good times.

So true. A person who has spent more than six months as a Christian and has not started on a deeper path of faith could easily get stuck at some infantile level — thinking the church is supposed to mother them, when God is their parent, projecting all their distress on the church when Jesus has dealt with everyone to blame.

  1. The internet and social media have exposed people to many alternatives to Christianity.

It’s a new day. Most church people have not caught up to this yet. Therefore, you may feel like you are cut off from the lived experience of most people. It is confusing to not know what to do.

It’s true, many people have jettisoned the Enlightenment-dominated, condemning, colonizing European Church for yoga, AA, Oprah and all sorts of self-centered and/or nurturing spirituality. But is this really new? These kinds of philosophies have met Christians in every era of history. I’m not sure it is new unless you won’t let go of the old.

  1. Because Western culture has moved away from Christendom — there is a “war” within denominations.

The old guard wants people to “stand strong,” younger people want to innovate, and most of our neighbors couldn’t care less. It feels like a no-win situation.

True. It can be depressing. But, I must say, before I was part of Circle of Hope I led one of those churches the leaders of the denomination (and professors who write stereotypic stuff about Jesus followers) thought would make a war. They were wrong about most of the people. Most people were honestly sorting out life and honestly wanted to be Jesus followers. We should love people (including ourselves) and not just assess them. We don’t need to “win” situations.

  1. You invest in people, they get frustrated with something, and leave for the megachurch down the street or just give up.

They don’t really get involved there — it’s just easier and it doesn’t challenge them. Secretly, you’re angry and hurt. Mainly because you suspect megachurch pastors are self-obsessed businessman masquerading as pastors.

I don’t think it makes sense to demonize megachurch pastors (even if the characterization above is true at times). So there’s that. And I agree that a lot of people are banal consumers. So there’s that. But why don’t we do the best we can to nurture faith, hope and love in the partners we are given? (Who’s self-obsessed?) The big threat of our era is the inability to be who we are where we are instead of always standing outside of ourselves taking a picture or imagining some other experience instead of the one we are having.

  1. The “big name” pastors who get quoted on CNN say all kinds of things that embarrass you and that you believe is anti-the way of Jesus.

But, you get lumped in with the rest of them. When you try to differentiate yourself from them, believers accuse you of being “negative” and “divisive.”

I don’t know who these big names are, really (who watches CNN?). Barack Obama is a big name and I usually like his sermons (if I forget about drones for a minute). Why not talk back to people who obscure the way of Jesus and not worry about accusations? Jesus was accused of being demon-possessed. You will rise again.

  1. It seems like much of what being the church is about is raising money, overseeing budgets, recruiting and managing people, and handling crisis situations.

That seems like work, not what you hoped for: nice relationships, satisfying dialogue about deep things, learning to pray.

Helping each other share, living according to a common vision and purpose, doing our part to knit people together in love, being a non-anxious, healing presence are all the results of relationships in Christ, dialogue in faith and prayer. There is a strange yearning for religion that is not in a real body: my own or the body of Christ. But that kind of private “spirituality” it is not following Jesus. Sharing God’s love in practical ways sounds like Jesus, not just ”work.”

  1. We are supposed to stay “relevant.”

But daily life with kids and jobs does not leave a lot of time for Facebook, even, much less all the other stuff that keeps rapidly changing. You simply feel like you can’t keep up.

I am not sure relevant is that relevant. I have never been as cool as I purportedly should have been and people have received the love I have to share. Pop culture is designed (now, VERY designed) to make sure no one can keep up, just keep consuming. Why would you get embroiled? Jesus can visit the culture, but if we hitched his wagon to it, wouldn’t our witness be discarded along with the leavings of the last fad? I think we can relate to whoever, whenever, but we don’t have to wear a costume to do it.

  1. Life in Christ seems like a perfectionist nightmare.

You’re supposed to be an eloquent spokesperson, a leader of something, a virtuous mate and parent, an extroverted friend, a knowledgeable confidant, a serious Bible student, etc., etc. Who can do all of this?

This is probably, even deeper, a nightmare of the isolated individualist, condemned to do everything by herself. Faith is supposed to be lived in community. If we rely on one another, we are not required to be all things in ourselves. Putting on a spectacular false self is not Christian — trying to do the best one can with what we’re given within the community of faith is. The answer to the question, of course, is Jesus has done it and Jesus lives in me. If I thought I could do everything, I wouldn’t need a Savior.

  1. The main decisions of the church are either made by a small group of insiders or by the entire congregation.

Either way, people base their decisions on their personal opinions and wants and they have very little understanding of how churches and ministries actually operate or how to have a healthy conflict on the way to something better.

The church is the body of Christ and decisions can be made in a variety of ways in an atmosphere of trust. Making a false dichotomy between personal and group, general understanding and personal opinion is perpetuating the problem. So there’s that. But let’s acknowledge just how terrified people are about what is going to happen to them if they trust someone, like their church leaders or covenant partners. Millions of pieces of media since 9/11 have heightened fear. The present U.S. presidential campaign is stoking fears and inventing even more conspiracies than legitimately exist. Let’s not conform to that. The church is the Lord’s alternative to the self-destructive ways of the world.

Although I am sure many of my readers today can resonate with my friend’s list of frustrations, I honestly think we are dealing faithfully, honestly and effectively with those things as Circle of Hope. We did not just get frustrated and leave the worldwide or historical church. But we don’t mind being what seems to be alternative to much of it. We are not damning the changes in society (and actually applaud many of the contributions of postmodernism), but we hardly feel like we have to defend the culture, or even participate in it when it does not suit the purposes of Jesus. Most of the frustrations voiced above seem like they are based on assumptions that no longer have any value or on feelings that have not been explored in the arms of God.

Honestly, I think we do pretty well with people who are just unconsciously frustrated, too. The way of Jesus has many paths leading to it; we all seem to have an interesting variation on the journey, some are very bumpy, but there is one Lord leading us. Sometimes it is frustrating. Sometimes we feel like giving up. But we don’t really need to get messed up just because things are messed up, do we?

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The Development Pastor at One Year

Building community,

I wrote about Rachel at one month. I got excited about Julie and Jerome at one month. But I have not said too much about myself as I have been moving through this interesting transition year. Someone wondered why. So here I am. I’m almost a year into being the “Development Pastor.” I’m telling some of my own story.

My new role feels a bit like my village was raided and we needed to move — it is more of a transition than I expected! It is life-changing, but it is also life-affirming, in the sense that a lot of what God gave me along the way is like a tool chest for this new territory.

No, I did not retire

I went to the General Conference of the Brethren in Christ in July (like I have every other year for decades) and must have been asked twenty times, “How is retirement?” I’m shaking my head as I write. Retirement?!

I might have said, “I wish retirement!” (since 60somethings supposedly thirst for it), but I don’t wish.

My new role in the church is less hands on and supposedly less time (not yet, really), but it is no less an occupation to which I feel called and fully deployed. I actually started another part-time profession when I began to apply my new doctorate to psychotherapy in Circle Counseling’s new digs at 1226 S. Broad St. So I won’t be retiring any time soon.

That is odd.

It is odd for the founding pastor of a church to step away and let his descendants take over. Usually, they wheel him out in a coffin or wheel him into a fancy office where he can keep looking like he presides over everything. Or, if that doesn’t work out, he just disappears and leaves the future of the church to “whatever.” I think many people think disappearing is more normal than transitioning to another role in the body—fired, tired or expired, you are supposed to go.

But last week Gwen and I sat in our usual spot at the South Broad Sunday meeting — we still like it right up front. But that is as close to “up front” as I got. I have been asked several times if taking a back seat feels sad for me. I must miss giving speeches. Or worse, I must feel disappeared, since, in the past, people came to see me like I was an episode of The Big Bang Theory and now there is a crime drama at that time so they are into crime drama and forgot The Big Bang. A lot of pastors do disappear when they are not in front every week. It is actually sort of pastor protocol for them to not infect the career of their successors. Instead, I was sitting next to Rachel last week.

I don’t miss it that much.  I never really thought being “up front” was the heart of my leadership, anyway —  I never found myself in the footlights, I guess. And Circle of Hope is more of a tribe than a production company, anyway, so I grew into another role. That feels right to me. I am still a member of the tribe; I’m just doing something else that fits where I am and where we are now. I suppose it does seem odd that our employees are not mere interchangeable parts we could order out of a catalog, but that’s how we are.

What do you do now?

One of the Coordinators asked this question the other day even though I report to them every week. I think I have been predictable so long it is unnerving to let me change, “If you are not that, what could you possibly be?” Sometimes I feel like that too. We’re all getting a handle on it. I think of what I do now as all about the future.  Circle of Hope has an amazing identity and a wonderful community. I am all about developing us to take who we are and move it into the future God is laying out for us as a whole church. We are a much bigger deal than we used to be and we have a bigger responsibility to develop and use what we have been given. I think the world and the church needs us to be deep, conscientious and strong.

The three big titles in the description of what I do are Formation, Teaching, and Development.

  • Formation is about spiritual and psychological health – I try to give the church tools (like Daily Prayer and the Way of Jesus), but mostly this is about personal counseling, mentoring and spiritual direction.
  • Teaching is more obvious – sometimes I am back up front, but all over the church in the Sunday meetings and training times. I invent and organize Gifts for Growing (like the 30something Retreat and Doing Theology coming up). I write like this.
  • Development is the largest area right now – we have new systems to use to build our institution and we have new needs to face as we grow. I’m into developing all the systems and facing the needs. I help the Leadership Team grow (that’s my main team). I often deal with conflict and goal setting. I help with the practical matters of moving over the edge into new territory. Somebody noticed that it was nice to have “your very own older person” around — things happen when you are out on the edge.

What is our edge?

What the church has done with me and how we are multiplying a congregation right now is so remarkable people have a hard time understanding it. I love how we can take risks and let the Spirit empower us and save us. If you are not excited about that, I think you ought to be. You are edgy. But there are further places to move.

I think we are going to go against the grain of the Northeast’s spiritual devolution and keep church planting. Plus, like our Map says this year, I think we are going to create a mutuality web that is the antidote to the soul-crushing individualism being written into law in the United States. What’s more, I think our new ideas for “good business” are going to start a very practical expression of our creativity. Those are the first things that come to mind.

What about teens? What about urban parenting? What about school care? What about finding a voice for alternativity? What about art? Climate change? There is a lot going on, and there should be. It is a challenging era to be a Jesus follower and we have been given a lot to contribute to the Lord’s cause.

What gives you strength?

I’ve had several conversations that pointed this out to me this week. I realized that my capacity is all learned. I have some native ability to do what I do, of course. But most of what I need has been an acquisition, a gift received, not an inner discovery.

  • Simplicity – My money is a tool. My success does not define me. Life is what I am living. I stick with my calling.
  • Centered prayer – Silence and contemplation are essential. Being with Jesus all day is a joy.
  • Teaming – I don’t do anything alone. Relationships of love are how the best things get done. I am a covenant member of the body of Christ.
  • Focus on goals – I like getting things done and I will risk failure to do them. I try to keep it simple and determine to do what I can actually accomplish. I am not a perfectionist. Thinking and acting ahead is important.
  • Reading widely (and yes FB and Twitter) – Nothing much is new under the sun, I may just not know it yet. I think the art of repurposing is more important than invention most of the time. Humility and foolishness lead to good things; I listen from that vantage point.

What will be new?

I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable after writing all this about myself. Presuming that someone is interested in me is not in my inner script. But I got to the end of it so the curious would feel more secure about what is happening in their church. It is odd. The new me is kind of odd, I guess. But I hope the change is very good. I am not sure what will happen, but a few things are coming into focus:

  • I hope my next ten years are full of children: spiritual children, grandchildren, and other people’s children.
  • I am going to enjoy letting go of our “2nd act” structures, once they can all walk —many of our innovations are still babies.
  • I intend to do more psychotherapy and spiritual direction.
  • I already write more.
  • I expect to teach more in the Hallowood Institute Gwen is founding, as well as throughout Circle of Hope.
  • I will apply myself to whatever I am given by God as I have always tried to do.
  • And, of course, Circle of Hope will be new. It is changing right now before our very eyes. Like I said, I actually feel a bit uprooted from the pleasant valley we used to live in. But I look forward to what will become of this much larger place into which we have entered. Much of it is unexplored, but what I have seen is beautiful! I look forward to what it becomes in much the same way I wonder if the baby’s eyes will stay blue — it is yet to be revealed but a sweet anticipation.

Olympians shine through — God is good, there is hope.

A life in the Spirit, , ,

I was so happy when NBC allowed Jesus to have the last frame of their broadcast of the Rio Olympics Opening Ceremony. The enormous statue of Christ the Redeemer is unmistakable on the Rio de Janeiro skyline and they did not ignore it, as I somehow expected them to do.

I don’t know if Jesus blesses the Olympics. Surely he is grateful for them if only because he would like to bless Americans with a breather from their soul-numbing politics. But I can’t help but think the Lord must be pleased with the games, whether people receive his blessing or not, because they show that humans are a splendid creation.

The Olympic Games are a great place to see our splendor in many ways. For one thing, the modern Olympics are such a great piece of idealism. The Olympic Hymn so beautifully sung by children from the favela during the opening is full of hope:

Let fraternity and fellowship
Surround the soul of every nation.
Oh flame, eternal in your firmament so bright
Illuminate us with your everlasting light.
That grace and beauty and magnificence
Shine like the sun
Blazing above.
Bestow on us your honor, truth and love.

What’s more, if you watched the opening ceremonies (between the ads) like I did (well most of it), then you saw the most beautiful people on the planet in their top form ready to do spectacular things for which they sacrificed hours of training. They are humanity in our most presentable shape. Inspiring.

Even the commercials were better and kinder, filled with a sense of camaraderie.

Of course, the Olympics movement is a shadow of the fullness presented in Jesus, arms outstretched over Rio in hope and welcome. We followers also have a hymn or two (or thousands) that highlight the beauty of humanity. Try on Psalm 8 as a good song to add to the chorus from Rio and help focus those splendid creatures on the Creator smiling on their accomplishment.

While you are at it, look around Circle of Hope. We may not be Olympians (most of us) but we are certainly a splendor to behold as we run all our races!

[The opening ceremonies seem like a long time ago! This was first published in Circle of Hope’s blog]

There is a lie in the middle of Olympics

A life in the Spirit, , , , , , ,

So let me be clear. I think the Olympians in Rio are spectacular and I thank God for them. They shine brightly and inspire us in many ways. Frank Bruni in the NY Times did not want that glory to be supplanted by complaint. And I don’t want to write this post and supplant it either.

But I do want to complain.

I am not complaining about all those nice kids being nice, being healthy, being dedicated and having a great time with their families all lined up in the stadium to watch them be the best. Just look at Simone. Thank you Jesus!

I am complaining because I think Christians should always be testing the spirits to see if they are true. And the Olympic Games tell a lot of lies, in case you are not noticing.

The Olympics imply, if not say, that the games are about bringing together athletes and supporters from around the world in a peaceful “fraternity.” But it is hard not to think that the games are mainly for profit, not love. Certainly NBC wants profit; Brazil expected some; the athletes hope to get endorsements and sponsors so they can spend their whole lives training. What’s more, the games are about the games, not community: the tradition, the health of the movement, the sports industry that needs to find a way to be fed.

The Olympic rings are supposed to represent peace and fraternity among nations, combining, as they do, all the colors of the flags. When Michael Phelps finally hugs Chad le Clos instead of trying to burn a hole in him with his laser vision, maybe that’s working out on an individual level. But when Russia is banned and booed, you got to wonder what is really going on.

One of Rio’s murals
  • Rio sold itself to the world at the expense of their poor. The Olympics seems to have been the political straw that broke the corrupt camel’s back. The games don’t always bring peace and fraternity. The 1996 Atlanta Games displaced homeless people, the Sydney Games foisted a huge debt on Australia, the 2004 Athens Games played a role in the Greek financial crisis, and the 2008 Beijing Olympics highlighted a repressive military state. Now, in Rio de Janeiro, private developers are reaping profits and exploiting workers, while anti-Olympic protesters are treated like terrorists.
  • NBC bought the rights to distribute the footage of the “fraternity’s” activities. They cut it up according to whatever algorithm they thought would supply the most return and sold the bits to whoever would buy them. The powers assess if we are watching enough to justify their investment (they love watching us watch and watching themselves watching us). Am I the only one still complaining that giant corporations (Comcast owns NBC) can buy the airwaves? I am not sure it is right to commodify communication.
  • Are there regulations for how small your bikini must be because beach volleyball players want to wear them, or because for years they pimped themselves out to get some viewers?
  • Is the crush of media outlets looking for stories to harvest from among the brilliant youth of the world really a good thing for them? Aren’t they exploited for a hot minute and then discarded when the machine moves on to unharvested people?

We could go on with a lot more questions, couldn’t we? (And act like we did not already know the answers). It is tempting to hear people say, “Don’t be so negative” and shut up, just stop testing spirits altogether, just let Comcast create the world and be the ruler of the air. At the same time it is tempting to not shut up, go ahead and damn  it all and miss all the beauty in the middle of the dump, like missing all those beautiful children in the favela. Maybe most of all, it is tempting just to shut down and just buy it all, as every product vies to make some connection between itself and the shiny Olympians, as if Coke really were some universal drink of love.

I am not cynical, which Merriam Webster says is a “sneering disbelief in sincerity or integrity.” I am not sneering at the Olympics. Much the contrary, I fully believe that humankind if destined to be sincere and integrous. I fully believe in sincerity and integrity. I want to have them as part of my character. And it is not hard to see how sincere one must be to train for the Olympics!

Jesus followers are set free to shine, not just complain that people are shedding false light. It’s just that when we shine, the light falls on NBC and I realize that I sincerely disbelieve that they had the world’s interests in mind when they delivered the opening ceremony in tiny bits between commercials. They pre-sold $1.2 billion in ads, showed a half hour of them during the ceremony  and had five breaks in the first half hour. That could make someone cynical, not shiny. As a Jesus follower I’ll try not to go there. I’m trying to note the deadly lie in the middle of Olympics at the same time I am straining out the goodness and love all around us.