the parablelife

New blog address

2011-08-21T14:28:00.000-06:00

I'll be posting at http://www.michellevanloon.com from now on. Come visit!

Review: With

2011-08-15T11:32:00.000-06:00

"Christianity isn't a religion. It's a relationship."

If you've spent any time at all in the evangelical world, you've probably heard some version of those words. In his book With: Reimagining the way you relate to God (Nelson, 2011) Pastor and author Skye Jethani explains that most of us settle for an erzatz version of this relationship:

Life FROM God: People in this category are focused on what God will do for them, rather than being interested in God himself. Word-of-faith believers and those who search for God's blessing on their success both capture the essence of this posture.
Life OVER God: "Proven formulas and controllable outcomes" define this category, best typlifed by people like the jaded agnostic and the pastor who relies on formulas and organizational principles to build a church.
Life FOR God: Those in this camp are known for their drive to do great things in God's service and being a world-changer. "Full time Christian service" is the penultimate expression of faith.
Life UNDER God: Our role is to learn what God commands, and toil with great intensity to remain within those boundaries. Legalists personify this category.

Jethani noted that he has spent time living in each one of these categories. (Me too.) But he makes a compelling case for learning to live life WITH God - which, he says, is the only sort of relationship God has ever intended to have with us:

The Life With God posture is predicated on the view that relationship is at the core of the cosmos: God the Father with God the Son with God the Holy Spirit. And so we should not be surprised to discover that when God desired to restore his broken relationship with people, he sent his Son to dwell with us. His plan to restore his creation was not to send a list of rules and rituals to follow (Life Under God), nor was it the implementation of useful principles (Life Over God). He did not send a genie to grant us our desires (Life For God.), nor did he give us a task to accomplish (Life For God). Instead, God himself came to be with us - to walk with us once again as he had done in Eden in the beginning.

It is just that simple. Which is why, in our broken state, we tend to bollux it, distancing ourselves from Him as we settle for a life lived by the wrong preposition. Jethani's writing is winsome and accessible, and his message is gospel - good news - in the truest sense of the word. The first half of the book explains how our errant categories impede and distort relationship with God. The second half offers a wonderful exploration of what it means live with God - to live into the faith, hope and love that is his character and our birthright as his beloved. A couple of appendices (a brief introduction to some ancient prayer practices in order to cultivate a "with-life" and a thoughtful set of discussion questions) round out the book's 207 pages.

One of the best-loved passages in Eugene Peterson's The Message paraphrase captures the essence of the message of With. Jesus is speaking to a crowd of people who'd lived under, for, from and over God when he offers this invitation: "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11:28-30 MSG)

I am prone to slide to one of the unhealthy postures (from, over, for, under) in my relationship with God. It's like a bad case of gravity, pulling me downward. With is a wise, wonderful reminder that only way to experience the gravity-defying unforced rhythms of grace is by living in the reality that God is with me, and I with him. Highly recommended.

I received a review copy of this book from the publisher.

Women can. Should they?

2011-08-11T18:05:00.002-06:00

I am currently reading Carolyn Custis James' thoughtful call to action entitled Half The Church : Recapturing God's Global Vision For Women, which is an invitation for kingdom women to respond with kingdom intelligence, passion and action to the injustice in our world.

And then yesterday, I read this this fairly detailed description of men's and women's roles by a Pastor Mark Chanski on the Gospel Coalition blog. Honestly, I am not trying to rant about the GC crew. I mentioned them in a blog post last week, so I didn't imagine I'd be talking about them again this week. But the dissonance between the kinds of women's roles described by Custis James and Chanski's prescriptive stance on masculine and feminine roles left me wondering anew how two people who would both self-identify as evangelical Christians who take their faith seriously could end up in such different places?

Someone explained to me years ago about the relationship between dogma, doctrine and opinion using the diagram above. The essence of dogma, those non-negotiable essentials of the Christian faith, can be captured in a creed like this one. Dogma is the small tip of the triangle in the diagram above. Get your dogma wrong and you end up inventing a cult.

Doctrine, the next section of the triangle, encompasses issues that distinguish the practice of a particular religious tradition. Get your doctrine wrong and you could end up being booted out of your church.

Opinion, the biggest section of the triangle, is everything else. That includes everything from worship music to leadership structures to the color of carpet in the church narthex. Depending on the crowd you run with, getting your opinion wrong may get you kicked out of your church and being told you’re going to hell, too.

That little diagram has been a big help to me as I’ve watched how well-intentioned Christians have defined what beliefs belong in which part of the triangle. It is amazing how many opinions end up becoming doctrine (or worse, dogma) for people. If you shove too much opinion into the doctrine or dogma part of the triangle, then it’s not really a triangle any more, is it?

Though I haven't finished Custis James' book, the one thing I've noticed is that there is a sense of empowering "can", as in, "Women can get involved in putting a stop to sex slavery". Her book appears to be about motivating her female readers to step out in faith in order to make a difference for others, no matter what life stage they inhabit. Her dogma enables her to analyze Biblical text in order to build her case, but the tone of her book most definitely falls into the category of passionately expressed opinion.

On the other hand, Pastor Chanski's post is full of shoulds and shouldn'ts. Men should "...step up to the plate in Sunday School classes and prayer meetings in such a manner that their verbal contributions lead the way, and not leave a void, provoking the women to take over." Women should "...extend hospitality in its countless forms. A Christlike, foot-washing, servant-hearted woman is a mighty kingdom weapon...Women are the church’s infantry." I understand that the Gospel Coalition folks believe that their take on women's roles is a non-negotiable that is a marker of a person's understanding about Scripture's inerrancy.

"Should" is the language of dogma. "Can" is the language of opinion.

And promise. And possibility.

My question for you: Should 'should' be a part of these kinds of discussions about men's and women's roles?

What's a nice egalitarian woman like you doing...?

2011-08-02T06:23:00.002-06:00

What's a nice egalitarian woman like you doing in a complementarian church?

When we started attending this church a year and a half ago, a friend said to me, "You know they're Gospel Coalition people, right?"

Yes, I did know. In fact, during our decision/discernment process about whether this church would be a good fit for us, we'd invited both pastors over to our home for some frank conversation about how their neo-Reformed theology worked itself out in the congregation. The conversation touched on topics including their view of Israel (an urgent question for us, since Reformed theology is typically supersecessionist in its interpretation of Scripture's story, a position my husband and I find untenable and anti-Semitic) as well as the role of women in the congregation.

The funny thing about at least one of those conversations is that neither my husband nor I brought up the subject of women's roles. The pastor did, perhaps because he knew that I am a writer and do some speaking.

He didn't know that my husband is probably more of an egalitarian than I am. Bill had sifted through the hysteria and hyperbole surrounding these issues early in his seminary days. He'd enrolled in seminary in his forties after a couple of decades of experience in the church. As a result, he was not in the market for a ticket to ride on whatever popular "issue of the week" theological bandwagon that happened to be rolling by. At Trinity, that bandwagon was a faddish devotion to Calvin-flavored fundamentalism. Bill noted that when he was an undergrad at Trinity in the 1970's, most of the faculty were dedicated Arminians - in other words, the bandwagon was heading in the opposite direction back then.

Because I began my church life in a very conservative "non"denomination, I accepted this group's take on women's roles without question - though I never donned a head covering for worship like the really spiritual women did. Though we moved on from that church shortly after we married, I didn't really do much serious reflection on the topic of women in ministry for several years. I wrote and spoke, gradually finding my voice and embracing the ministry and gifts God gave me. When I read Dr. Sarah Sumner's Men and Women in the Church: Building Consensus on Christian Leadership a few years ago (while working at Trinity's bookstore!), I felt that she'd put words to who God had called me to be. The book launched some new conversations in my life, including a few with my husband, who had often wondered what took me so long to believe about myself what he had long believed about me - and so many other God-gifted women. Everyone's gifts are needed in order to so the church can both be and become the Bride of Christ.

It is a wonderful blessing in the truest sense of the word to have someone else affirm your ministry. Bill's ongoing blessing of my writing and speaking ministry has had an unexpected side effect: it has stripped the gears from my propensity to agitate against institutional injustice when it comes to this issue. Perhaps because I am free to step behind a pulpit on a Sunday morning or in a seminar as a guest speaker if I am asked (just as Bill, a gifted teacher in his own right, is), I don't feel any urge to fight this particular church on these issues. Or, more likely, maybe I'm just battle-weary at this point in my life.

I appreciate the preaching at this church, which thus far has been mercifully free from agendas and politics, and value the humility and service orientation I see among both men and women there. The women I've met there are smart and curious. I do feel a bit sad the church is limiting their voices in areas that could benefit this local body. But male and female members alike have chosen to affirm the complementarian position in order to structure their life together, and I can respect their choice to do so.

They've been supportive of our Jewishness, our connection to Caspari and love for Israel as well as the other ministries (Bill is a Mundelein police chaplain, I handle communications for Christ Together) of which we're a part. I am so grateful for their prayers and kindness in that way. We always have to suck it up in some area or other when we become a part of a local body, right?

So, I'm curious - what do you think? Is the issue of women in ministry a deal-breaker for you when it comes to choosing a local congregation?

Review: The Seraph Seal

2011-07-28T08:44:00.000-06:00

I'm not much of a fiction reader, but when I saw Leonard Sweet's name on the cover of this book, I decided to give it a spin*. Co-written with Lori Wagner, The Seraph Seal (Thomas Nelson, 2011) is a genre-blurring book the authors have dubbed "engaged fiction". The meat of the book is an apocalyptic journey through the end of days that borrows in structure from barn-burners like the DaVinci code, book-ended with Sweet's trademark provocative, prophetic decoding of the often-disparate clues embedded all around us. "(I pay) attention to the signs of the times and (follow) the traces and trails that lead to places of intersection, especially where our story meets God's story," he explains. To that end, Wagner's fiction grabs signposts from all sorts of places: ancient Christian traditions and writings, Kaballah, Mayan prophecies, global warming theories, political realignments, social trends, advances in the tech world and more.

The book's 560 pages (!) follow one Peter Binder, University of Virginia history professor, as he pieces together the clues in a race against time to bring together the chosen "horsemen of the apocalypse" mentioned in Revelation before an anti-Christ figure (who happens to be the President of USAmerica) can arrive in Israel's Upper Galilee with his own anti-horsemen at 9:00 PM on December 21, 2048. There are multiple characters and plotlines, skipping all over the globe. Wagner is a capable writer, pulling Sweet's understanding of semiotics into a readable page-turner of a book. Though the first 20% of this lengthy volume was slow going for me, though eventually the mysteries and connections hooked me into the story.

The good news about this story is that it is not another Left Behind (dispensational) vision of the end times, which is not an eschatological system I embrace. Instead, Sweet and Wagner offer a vision of the last days that has many elements that feel far more faithful to Scripture than does Jenkins and LaHaye's - with a giant "but" tacked onto the end of the sentence: While The Seraph Seal leads the reader to a new heaven and a new earth at the end of the book, it is these human horsemen and the sacrificial death of their very human companion that brings us there. I understood the symbolism, but I experienced a disconnect between that symbolism and the real, recognizable world these characters inhabited so fully throughout the book. My own "through a glass darkly" reading of Revelation has Jesus at the center of these events in a more literal manner, one that matches the literal destruction of the world imagined by Sweet and Wagner.

One of Sweet's appendices at the end of the book describes and categorizes some of the signs of the times to which the book refers (ranging from Abaddon to Zero Point Energy). This reading adds value and understanding to the story told by Wagner, and left me with some haunting food for thought as I try to do what Christ has asked each one of us to do: Pay attention to the signs of the times. The Seraph Seal, a work of fiction, offers readers a reminder that God has equipped them to do just that, if only they'll see and hear.

*I received a review copy of this book from the publisher.

The taste of daily bread

2011-07-23T09:22:00.002-06:00

"Our driver is running a few minutes late. Is that O.K.?" The voice on the other end of the phone waited for my answer.

What was I supposed to say? I'd been sitting in an office with nothing much to do except wait for the guy from the office equipment company to come pick up his copier. "Sure. I'll be here."

It is the mundane nature of days like this that threatens to numb us from savoring the activity of God in our lives.

I diddled with some paperwork, wrote a few emails, and watched the minutes tick by like migrating geese. At last, there was a knock on the door. "Sorry about the delay." A man in his early forties wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Hot one out there, eh?"

We exchanged weather-related pleasantries and I shot a glance at the clock. I could still make it out of here before rush hour starts. We talked through the logistics of how he'd get the aging copier out of the office building and into his truck, and discovered we had an acquaintance in common. He busied himself unplugging cables and readying the machine for transport, then stopped and looked at me.

"So what do you do?"

It kind of a funny question to be asked while I was standing in an office, though he did know that I did the bulk of my work for the organization from home.

"My primary job is writing," I told him, and explained that I have a variety of different gigs going these days, most writing-related, including the one that brought me to the office that day.

His curiosity was piqued. "What do you write?"

When I tell people I've written two books about the parables of Christ, the conversation usually goes in one of two directions. Either they smile at me like I am a deluded fool and change the subject, or they begin to tell me a little about their own faith story.

Our ensuing conversation was in the latter camp, but with a confessional twist. For a moment, he looked like he was about to break down, then the words poured out of him like a river. "This economy has been brutal on my business. I'm the owner, but can't afford to pay a delivery driver right now. I am a person of faith and love to share it, but the first and the fifteenth of each month when I have to pay bills, I take my eyes off of Jesus. I'm scared." He paused, an attempt to dam the river. His face reddened a bit. "I don't know why I'm telling you this..."

I nodded. Maybe he thought that because I wrote a book, I'd have a solution for his fear. Honestly, I'm a little scared these days, too, in several different areas of my life. I told him briefly about my own struggles, and referenced the words we pray but sometimes struggle to believe when fear's shadow threatens to block out the truth about who God is. As we talked, the copier and the truck and the clock metering out the moments of our respective workdays faded into the background as if it was bad scenery from a high school play, and the kind of fellowship found only in the kindgom of God filled the space between two struggling strangers. A tiny fragment of eternity had invaded our now.

Our conversation came to a resting place, and the clock again came into sharp focus. "I better get going," he said, glancing at it. "Before I do, I was wondering if you'd think it was weird if we prayed together?"

Weird? It was the only logical place we could go. As we said our Amens, each of us let out an involuntary sigh, lightened from the release of lifted weight from weary shoulders.

"Thanks," he said. "By the way, my name is John."

"Nice to meet you, John. I'm Michelle." After he left, I stood in the office, chastised by the echoes of my grumbling just a few minutes earlier about the inconvenience of the delay to my precious schedule. I didn't deserve the grace that filled that conversation, and remembered again that these sorts of encounters are exactly what daily bread tastes like.

At The Table: A Reading For Two Voices

2011-07-20T11:13:00.001-06:00

Once upon a time, I used to write a lot of readings for use during church services. Some of the pieces were meant to tell a story in a unique way, other readings were simply a creative division of a Biblical text that would allow a congregation to listen to familiar words with fresh ears because 2-5 voices proclaimed them.

This summer at our church, there was a call for the congregation to bring our "Living Psalms" to one another. Below, you'll find my psalm, the first script I've written in a quite a while. If you know of a congregation interested in using this piece (about 1:30 in length), you're welcome to share it with them with my blessing!

At The Table

This psalm, to be read by two people (Voice 1, a male reader and Voice 2, and female voice), is inspired by the parable of the banquet found in Luke 14:15-24. This piece would be suitable as an intro. to communion.

Voice 1: The world says I am not invited to its party.

Voice 2: There is no place card for me at its table.

Voice 1: The world says my name is Poor.

Voice 2: Crippled.

Voice 1: Blind.

Voice 2: Lame.

Voice 1: The world calls me Loser.

Voice 2: Awkward.

Voice 1: Burden.

Voice 2: Ugly.

Voice 1: Failure.

Voice 2: Disappointment.

Voice 1: Sinner.

Voice 2: The world’s labels have branded me.

Voice 1: The identity they gave me was as comfortable as an old pair of sweats…

Voice 2: And as ill-fitting as a prom dress three sizes too small.

Voice 1: Sometimes, when I dream at night I imagine a different name for myself.

Voice 2: Those dreams are the true desire of my heart, hopes I don’t dare to voice when the world has already pronounced its verdict over my life.

Voice 1: Heavenly Father, you authored my desire.

Voice 2: You gave me those dreams.

Voice 1: Yet in the cold florescent glare of the world’s light, those dreams seem nothing more than a hazy fantasy of my own invention.

Voice 2: When I heard about invitations going out to the best party of them all, I shrugged it off.

Voice 1: I wouldn’t be invited to an event like that.

Voice 2: Why would I be?

Voice 1: Never had been invited before.

Voice 2: Never dared to dream I would be today.

Voice 1: And then, there was a knock on my door.

Voice 2: And then, a kind messenger handed me an invitation.

Voice 1: My name engraved on the envelope.

Voice 2: It was the name I’d only dreamed of hearing from you, Lord.

Voice 1: Friend.

Voice 2: Others just like me…

Voice 1: Others who’d been wounded with labels like the one I wore…

Voice 2: …received invitations that day, too.

Voice 1: Their invitations had names like ‘son’.

Voice 2: ‘Daughter’.

Voice 1: ‘Holy’.

Voice 2: ‘Beloved’.

Voice 1: Father, these were the names you gave to us before we were even born.

Voice 2: While each one of us was still in our mother’s womb.

Voice 1: You, Lord, prepare a place at your table for us.

Voice 2: You, Lord, invite us to come to your table.

Voice 1: To revel in your presence.

Voice 2: To feast on your goodness.

Voice 1: To savor your mercy.

Voice 2: To be transformed by your grace.

Voice 1: And so, we respond to your invitation here in this place.

Voice 2: Grateful.

Voice 1: Humbled.

Voice 2: In awe of all you are and all you’ve done for us.

Voice 1: We say yes to your invitation with our new name on it.

Voice 2: We come to your table.

Voice 1: And as we do, we are fed…

Voice 2: …restored

Voice 1: …and renamed.

Trying to look on the sunny side

2011-07-13T19:33:00.000-06:00

"My husband reads your blog, and he commented that you seem to have a lot of complaints about the Church," a friend told me recently.

A number of responses came to mind, mostly of the "Well, yeah" and "No duh" variety.

There are lot of voices offering criticism of the church around the blogosphere. A sizable percentage of these critics sing the laments that jilted lovers do. Their minor key songs are the kinds of songs sung by those who gave time and money and the best parts of themselves to a congregation, only to be neglected, used or abused in return. I would definitely put myself in this category. When I tell sad stories or ask questions about church, I am doing so because I want to use my voice to encourage others who've been hurt by the people who are meant to be your family in the best, healthiest sense of the word. I use my voice because there is nothing more affirming and empowering than discovering that you're not the only one.

That said, every once in a while it's good to tell a different kind of story about a church leader. I am still a part of the body of Christ, which means that either I'm completely nuts for sticking around after some of the horrors I've experienced in the Church - or I have learned that those people are not the sum and total of who the Bride is meant to be.

So with that, a good leader story. I first wrote about it in more detail here, but it is a story worth repeating. It is a beautiful picture of how a leader's response to a messy person can bring incredible healing. It remains one of the most transcendent moments I've ever had in a church.

I'd been, as they say, thrown under the bus several years earlier by a leader with a secret to protect. (The secret was that he was a porn addict and was thisclose to having an affair.) It was devastating at the time, but by this point, I figured I'd worked through the worst of it and I was now all right. Really. Fine, thanks.

I was at an organizational meeting in a new church in a new state years later when I saw a face, an image that transported me back in time to the point of impact. A PTSD microburst. I freaked out inside, but did my darndest to maintain a calm, rational exterior.

I nearly pulled it off, except for the fact that I'd begun shaking uncontrollably. I prayed that no one noticed, and tried to figure out how to excuse myself from this room of near-strangers so I could go to my car and cry.

A leader at the church, Mike, noticed. He gently asked me if I was OK. I tried offering a brief explanation that would have allowed me to preserve a scrap of dignity, but I'm not sure I made any sense. My chattering teeth didn't help the effect.

Mike quietly directed the others in the room to gather around me, lay their hands on my shaking body, and pray. He'd been a grade school teacher for years, and he knew just what to do when someone got hurt at recess.

None of them knew what they were praying about for me. But the Holy Spirit knew, and he moved them to pray prayers of freedom and release that hit their mark. They could have branded me an emotionally-disturbed woman, and they'd have been right.

Instead, fueled by compassion and directed by Mike's shepherd leadership, they didn't label me with any other label - except that of a friend in need of prayer.

This is how a leader who is following Christ is supposed to respond to someone else's mess. In fact, this is how each one of us who has been filled with the Holy Spirit is invited to respond. Think Good Samaritan.

Mike did that night. And I am grateful.

The electric fence

2011-07-08T09:21:00.001-06:00

"I'm wondering if you and your husband have run into issues of sexual sin among any of the leaders in your congregation." My query paused the conversation while my friend reviewed her experiences in the last year or so since her husband had become an elder in a mid-sized, non-denominational congregation.

The fact that she had to pause and think about it answered my question.

"Well, there's a couple dealing with infidelity on the part of one of the spouses," she said at last.

"Are they in leadership roles?" I asked.

"Oh no," she said, a note of shock in her voice. "No problems at all like that. Why do you ask?"

I'd been reflecting on the devastation that had been wrought by the wandering desires of church leaders I've known over the years. Leaders' porn addictions, adulteries, emotional adulteries, more porn addictions, more adulteries and a few cases of fornication for good measure have pock-marked the narrow road I've walked during the last three decades.

If a leader is not inclined to confess, then without a moment of hesitation, he or she will destroy anyone who gets too close to their secret. The love the ministry leader may profess for their congregation ends at the electrified fence they've built around their secret. The leader usually has no problem shoving the potential exposer into the fence and watching the person fry. "See? There's the problem in our congregation," the leader will say as he or she points to the now crispy-fried reputation of a brother or sister. And in my experience, they'll resort to this tactic again and again and again until they either get caught or collapse under the weight of their double life.

Someone once told me I seemed to have trust issues with church leaders. (Ironically, I later discovered that this person was heavily involved in a cover-up of a church leader's emotional affair. But I digress.) When I recently shared some of our war stories with a new friend, I realized that either (a) my husband and I have extraordinarily terrible discernment when it comes to choosing churches or (b) the problems are here, there and everywhere, and when we've prayed "God, please use me", he will take us at our word and escort us right toward an electrified fence.

The temptation to say, "Forget you" to the Church has been great at times - and there have been periods when simply walking in the door of a service and taking a seat in the back row has been all that I can do. Even then, when I was in non-involvement mode at a church, I once had a woman in leadership decide to befriend me because I seemed safe (because I was non-involved) and confess to me the affairs she and her husband had both had in recent years. Oy.

I am certainly more guarded these days, but I believe that might be called "Wisdom". I also am learning to trust God, even when his people fail. I fail, and God trusts me to continue to carry his Spirit in spite of my own failures - and because of his bottomless love and mercy.

I also believe that the people I learn from are often not the ones wielding power in a church professing their desire to 'equip me for ministry', but the ones who probably aren't on the church org chart who have the time and openness to sit at a table across from me and share their lives. Our society provides us all with regular tutorials about the relationship of power to sexual appetite - Arnold Schwartzenegger and Anthony Weiner, most recently. Truth 101 here: Power in any sphere can be simultaneously a narcotic and an aphrodisiac, and yes, that combo, applied to the unhealed wounds of a church leader can out a dormant hidden self that will take down others to preserve its secrets.

The note of shock in my friend's voice sounded a lot like "That could never happen here". That tone of pride was more alarming to me than her answer. Paul, writing to a congregation where sexual sin was center stage, coached them with these words of warning: "So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!" (1 Cor. 10:12)

My prayer for my friend is that she and her husband will indeed be careful - especially if they find themselves being escorted toward an electric fence.

Have you ever been in a church impacted by the sexual sin of a leader? How did it affect you?

Country music words quiz

2011-07-01T12:14:00.002-06:00

I've avoided the genre like smallpox, but in recent years, a few crossover hits have captured my imagination. And that Mad Magazine coverboy, also known as American Idol winner Scotty McCreery, got me to thinkin' 'bout tryin' the Country Music for the first time. (!) I challenged myself to give country a chance for a month.

I'm almost done with my 30-day challenge period wherein I listen to pop-hit country US99 in the car when I drive. There are a few songs that I simply can not stomach as a newbie country music listener (like this one), but for the most part, I think I might be getting hooked, at least a little bit. I like the storytelling aspect of the music, and there are bonus points because I don't feel quite as slimy as I do when listening to certain autotuned pop stars who shall remain naLAmeDYleGAssGA.

I'm a word girl, so I have collected a vocabulary list from the songs I've heard in heavy rotation on the radio station. Country music fans, can you name the current song and artist where each of these words are found?

1. Porch

2. Critter

3. Piece o' wire

4. Mama

5. Daddy

6. Beer

7. Whiskey

8. Tractor

9. Coon dog

10. Conway Twitty

*I know, I know. Some of these words are in thousands of country songs. Seriously. Beer? Whiskey?Just do your best with what's on the current charts

**And yes, some of these words come from the same song.

***Yes, yes, I do find myself wondering what a nice Jewish suburban Chicago girl like me is doing listening to a song with the words "Coon dog" in it. Thanks for asking.

Spiritual narcissism

2011-06-30T07:34:00.000-06:00

Yesterday while I was playing hooky, I headed to WI for a quick visit with Meg, my long-time prayer partner. We ended our day in the empty sanctuary of her Pewaukee church. It is a small modern space, but was sited onto the land with great respect to the old trees and plantings already residing on the land. Windows behind the altar bring breathtaking views of creation into the building all four seasons of the year.

As Meg and I prayed, I could almost hear a sermon preached to me by the plants and trees in full bloom. Their early summer majesty whispered to me that they are helpless to grow themselves; sun, wind, soil, rain and time are given them by the One who hard-wired the DNA within each one's seed. Dr. Gerald May noted, "The gentlest form of spiritual narcissism is the idea that one can accomplish one's own spiritual growth."

Jesus told a story about the nature and purpose of spiritual growth. In my book Uprooted: Growing A Parable Life From The Inside Out, I spent a little time imagining Jesus' revolutionary idea that God alone causes growth to happen in our lives. Enjoy!

He also said, "This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come."    -Mark 4:26-29

    Levi groaned. The first rays of the sun slanted through the open doorway, and he rolled over, draping his arm across his eyes. Ah, for just a few more minutes of sleep.
    Miriam’s side of the bed was already cold. She was a good woman, that one, up before the dawn to begin preparing breakfast for the family.
    He let his arm drop, and pushed himself up to a sitting position. As his feet hit the floor, he uttered the day’s first prayer: I give thanks before you, King, living and eternal, for you have returned within me my soul with compassion, abundant is Your faithfulness. Amen.
    He’d built his life using the pattern given him by his father, may he rest in peace, and from his grandfather before him. Levi’s family was comprised of an unbroken chain of rabbis, honorable men who’d taught others how to live every jot and tittle of the Torah.
    He lifted the tefillin, those small boxes containing portions of God’s Word, one for his head and one for his hand, and began wrapping the leather strapping to himself in the prescribed manner. Left hand first, Levi prayed: Blessed are you, Lord, our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us to put on tefillin. Amen. Up the arm, 7 times around, Levi pulled the straps snugly: Blessed is the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever. Amen. He affixed the other precious little box to his head, and continued, Blessed are you, Lord, our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us regarding the commandment of tefillin. Amen.
    He paused for a respectful moment, then repeated the statement that completed this part of the ritual. He’d said it by rote every day of his life since the day he became a man: I will betroth you to Me forever, and I will betroth you to Me with righteousness, justice, kindness, and mercy. I will betroth you to Me with faithfulness, and you shall know Me, God.
    He dropped his prayer shawl over his head like a small tent and raised his hands: Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us regarding the commandment of fringes. Amen. Those carefully knotted fringes were combination amulet and billboard, a reminder of God’s 613 rules at the foundation of Levi’s life.
    Levi completed his morning prayers, removed his tefillin, and went to join his wife and children for breakfast. He stopped to wash his hands: Blessed are You O Lord our God, King of the universe, Who has made us holy through His commandments, and has commanded us concerning washing hands. Amen. He then prayed a blessing on the warm flatbread (“Blessed are You, Eternal our God, Ruler of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth. Amen.”) and figs (“Blessed are You, Eternal our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of the fruit of the tree. Amen.”)
.     Each moment of Levi’s day was shaped as much by those rules as by the centuries of commentary about the specifics about how to best obey those rules. His life was a chain of days; the links forged of iron obedience.
    The latest debate among the men at his synagogue centered on how best to thank the Creator for two pieces of fruit when one piece was cut into pieces and the other was served whole. Give thanks for the whole piece, of course, Levi contended. But others felt that thanking God for the cut pieces was in order since those were the ones that were going to be eaten first. Some complained that they were splitting hairs with an axe, but Levi was convinced, as were his father and grandfather before him, that these questions were practically a matter of life or death.
    Jesus’ full-house audience that day at beside the lake was peppered with many men like Levi, men who’d come to hear this rabbi from Nazareth. Most wondered aloud, “Can any good thing come from such a place?” They’d heard about him, and were curious to hear this teacher’s opinion about how to best thank the Creator for cut fruit, the right length for the tassels on one’s prayer shawl, and how to measure their strides on the Sabbath so they didn’t inadvertently work by taking one step too many. As he seated himself along the lakeshore in a prime spot, Levi knew he’d best be attentive. Jesus’ words would be additional kindling for the fiery discussion at the synagogue that would follow His visit to their area.
    Imagine Levi’s surprise when Jesus didn’t talk about the proper way to bless a bowl of cut figs. He told a cluster of stories instead, telling His hearers about an odd kingdom He claimed was God’s where people were themselves the fruit. Levi knew the power of a story to make a point; he used the technique himself when a particularly slow-witted member of his congregation didn’t understand him.
    Jesus’ stories were ridiculous…insulting even! Levi was furious that Rabbi Jesus would tell the people a story that wasn’t even much of a story – it was simply a description of the life cycle of a seed. A seed! What kind of a hoax was this?! How could a plant tell people more about God’s kingdom than a Law-loving man like Levi?   Levi considered himself a fair and open-minded man, but as he listened to Jesus, he absently fingered the tassels on his tallit and slammed his heart shut.
    Amen.

+ + + + + + +

    Jesus told those willing to hear Him that the process of a seed’s growth is a simile that can help us discover His kingdom here and now. A plot of ground, planted intentionally with seed, tells us exactly what we need to know about the way His kingdom works. There are many who believe they’re growing God’s kingdom by with beautifully-crafted religious technique. But all rules and methods can ever do is create a structure. We humans have the capability to build things, but are powerless to make growth happen.
    Jesus’ little story, found only in the gospel of Mark, carries a heaven-sized message that tells us that we are barren earth, impotent to generate life or produce fruit. God’s kingdom is contained wholly in the seed – His life, planted in each of us who follows Him. The whole aim of the seed’s life is to come to maturity and be ready for harvest by the One who planted it in the first place. This parable isn’t a biology lesson. It’s about the mystery of His life lived in us.
    And the world around us – every blade of grass, every shaft of wheat, every willow and thistle and palm is explaining the mystery to us.

Review: Story Engineering

2011-06-22T08:21:00.004-06:00

Toward the end of his life, King Solomon famously noted, "Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body." (Ecc. 12:12) In our modern age, we are now up to the point where there are endless numbers of books about the writing of books. Some new classics about the art of writing, like Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird or Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down The Bones, are designed to inspire both beginning and veteran authors.

There are other books that function as "how to" texts for adult newbie writers. These study tools can be helpful for some, and wearying for others. There is no one-size-fits-all manual that will deliver everything that an aspiring author needs to craft a book. A person who wants to learn to tell a story will benefit from wading through a few "how to" manuals in order to glean the information that works for him or her.

Story Engineering: Mastering The Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing by Larry Brooks (Writers Digest Books, 2011) is a how-to manual for aspiring novelists. Brooks, a writing coach and the the author of five thrillers, approaches his subject matter with the precision of...well, a very chatty engineer. He insists that even those who sucessfully create their stories organically (like Stephen King, whose style Brooks refers to as "pantsing", as in, "writing by their seat of their pants") are bound by the rules of story engineering.

The book explores the components used to build a story: concept, character, theme, structure, scene execution and voice. Brooks relies on popular recent blockbusters like Dan Brown's ubiquitous The DaVinci Code to provide examples of how these components *must* be fitted together to create a marketable final product. He insists that if someone follows the formula (while insisting that it is not a formula), the author will increase their chances of creating a book that will catch the eye of an acquisitions editor:

Without the right knowledge, without mastering a formidable list of basics that is rarely talked about coherently, most of us end up with a dream that never materializes...too often (authors) don't even recognize the pit they're in, so when the rejection slips arrive they don't have a clue as to why.

I'll tell you why, and I haven't even read their manuscripts. They were rejected because one or more of the Six Core Competencies was executed at a level that failed to inspire the agent, editor, or producer to offer a contract....here's the good news: The knowledge of how to understand and apply the Six Core Competencies of successful storytelling is out there. In fact, it's right here in your hands.

I have no quibble with the basic content of the book. It is formula - but novice writers need a helpful introduction to the rules so they know how to obey and intentionally violate them in order for their stories to capture the attention of readers in our era of "making many (many, many, many) books". Though this is not the be-all, end-all of writing books, it will serve a purpose for some beginning writers of the left-brained variety who want to understand how to construct a page-turning story.

What I didn't like about Story Engineering was Brooks' habit of announcing and then announcing some more that he was about to make a Big Point. He devoted pages and pages of the book to hyping this principle or that one before he actually came out and just said it. It made me feel as though he was trying to sell me on the book even though I was already reading it, and I started resenting him for it about a third of the way through the book. If all of this point-padding were removed, the book would probably be about half its 288-page length - and it would have been a much more interesting and user-friendly read.

*I received a Kindle version of this book to review from Thomas Nelson publishers.

Building a bridge from here to There - part 3

2011-06-18T13:21:00.000-06:00

Transitions are the bridges from here to There in written and verbal communication. In part one of this three-part series, I offered some basic thoughts about how transitions serve as a sort of GPS, directing readers/listeners from point to point of an author or speaker's idea journey. In part two of the series, I showed what happens when transitions are ignored in one especially potent form of communication - a church service. I created a generic example pieced together from years of sitting through services where people in charge may have thought about the specific element for which they were responsible, but often didn't think about how or why to create bridges between these elements. (And in some cases, they didn't think through the "why" the element was there to begin with, which meant that they often missed the point and purpose of the element entirely. But that's another whole series of blog posts - or a book!)

If you've hung with me so far, then allow me to have a final look at this subject. I've re-imagined my imaginary church service, this time, with the kinds of bridges from here to There that are designed to help a group move through corporate worship together.

As the doors to the sanctuary open, a single individual is playing worship music on a keyboard. The music has the effect of hallowing the space and time, so as the congregation enters the room, they are being cued to shift gears and come together for worship. Those involved in leading worship (musicians, preacher/teacher, sound team) were gathered for prayer "off stage" in order to prepare their hearts and be receptive to what the Spirit was saying to the church that morning.

The worship leader took the stage and read a passage of Scripture and prayed that God would help the congregation give themselves freely in worship, responding to the One who'd given himself to them first.

Several songs grouped around the theme of the day's message are sung, punctuated once with a brief and appropriate prayer of thanksgiving from someone in the congregation in response to the words of the song. As the sung worship draws to a close, a worship team member reads the text of an ancient prayer that echoes the theme for the day's service.

The person giving announcements takes the stage, and welcomes all assembled to the gathering. The announcements of upcoming activities are brief, simple and clear - framed in terms of who the church is as a worshiping community. The church has recently decided to do away with "passing the plate" due to the leaders' growing conviction that this Scripture applies to this practice coupled with the fact that many more members are giving using an online donation tool. The announcement-maker notes that there are offering boxes positioned near the back of the church.

The preacher then takes the stage and prays for the congregation - that they will live lives that give freely to God and to others, and that his/her words will be used of God to equip each one to follow Him more faithfully. S/he reads the day's Bible text(s), then preaches a message that points people toward Jesus, and ends with some words designed to bridge from the text of the message to the next element of the service: communion.

A member of the congregation comes and reads a brief devotional thought s/he's written about the day's text that contains a brief corporate prayer of confession of sin. The worship leader allows some time for silent reflection, before speaking words about God's grace and forgiveness over the people. S/he then reminds the congregation that God is inviting all of those who believe in Him to share in this meal together, and blesses those who are not yet believers, letting them know that they are free not to participate. As the worship team plays an instrumental piece of worship, the congregation is invited to come to one of the stations around the room that contains the elements, take them, and return to their seats. As they do, The worship leader reads 1 Cor. 11:23-26 and prays as the congregation takes the elements together. Two more songs of thanksgiving, then a congregation member comes to the front and reads a benediction over the congregation, blessing them as they head out into mission.

If you compare the haphazard assemblage of elements I described in Part 2, you'll see some tweaks to some of those elements above. But if you look past the tweaks, you'll see that the basic structure is pretty much the same - but the bridges - the transitions - are much stronger. With intentionality about good transitions, there is less room for ham-handed transitions (like "Go team!") to do the heavy lifting of building a bridge from element to element.

Because I've been involved in worship planning in a variety of different settings, and because I am a writer who is forced by my vocation to contemplate how to create fluid transitions in my work, I am willing to confess that perhaps I am extra-sensitive when I see them omitted or dismissed in corporate worship.

Or am I? If you've lived through a few church services like the one I described in Part 2, did the lack of intentionality about the transitions bother you? Why or why not?

Building a bridge from here to There - Part 2

2011-06-12T16:06:00.000-06:00

My last post was a five-minute intro on the importance of transitions in communication. (Click here to read it.) I ended the post with a bit of a teaser when I mentioned that there is one group of communicators who don't always do much thinking about transitions.

I believe these people neglect transitions because they are often focused on specific chunks of communication. They aren't thinking of the big picture. And because of that, their audience is often left to do too much of the work of connecting those individual chunks.

Just who are these neglectful communicators?

The ones I am thinking of are some of the people who craft corporate worship services, particularly in "low church"/non-denominational congregations. Churches that use tried-and-true set liturgy may also struggle to flow from movement to movement in a service, but they have the benefit of following a script that's been tested by time. At least some of the bugs and hiccups of their church services have been worked out by their denomination's early adopters generations ago.

Let me give you an example of what it is like to be in a typical evangelical church service where it appears no one in charge has thought through transitions. (Please note that this is an amalgam of every bad service of which I've ever been a part, not a report on the worship service I attended this morning.)

The worship team wanders onto the platform, and the sound guy runs up on stage and frantically switches out a mic at the last moment. As the band launches into the first song, the worship leader chirps, "Good morning!" A few in the congregation say, "Good morning!" The worship leader isn't satisfied with this tepid response, so he says more loudly, "Good morning, church!" The congregation picks up the cue and respond, "Good morning!" The worship leader then launches into the first song.

After the song finishes, he comments on the weather and the afternoon's big football game, and then tells the congregation, "Let's make sure if you cheer for the (insert team name here), you cheer even louder for our God this morning." The congregation claps for God. He proceeds to lead the congregation in two more songs.

Another person takes the stage after the songs finish, and greets the congregation. She then launches into a series of announcements about upcoming church events and recruitment for VBS volunteers. The pastor takes the mic from her, asks the ushers to come forward to collect the morning's offering. As they do this, a soloist sings a song to the congregation. When he finishes, the congregation claps for the singer.

The pastor returns to the mic, opens his Bible, prays briefly and launches into his message. When he finishes, he prays again, and the worship team returns to the stage. After a song, the worship leader reminds the congregation that today is Communion Day, and notes that they'll be out of there in plenty of time for the Big Game. He flips open his Bible, reads 1 Cor. 11:23-26, and then instructs the ushers to pass the plates containing the elements. A couple of quick prayers over the elements, two more songs and it's over. The congregation knows that when the musicians put their instruments down, the service is over. The worship leader ends with the uplifting words, "Have a good week! Go (name the team)!"

If you've ever attempted to participate in a service like this, you know that the potential for disconnect is ripe in both content and song selection. Often, the people planning a service (pastor and worship leader, at minimum) will do a little coordinating. "The text for my message is _____," the pastor will tell the worship leader. "The theme of the message will be ____."

The worship leader will use those cues to select some songs that sort of highlight that theme. (Or s/he will ignore the cue and choose songs s/he likes, thus creating dueling messages in a single service.)

A message with a few songs that kinda go with the message does not create a cohesive corporate worship service.

An unhealthy focus on the horizontal aspects of congregational gathering (coaxing performance out of a congregation by cuing them to "cheer for God", too much chatter about sports teams) will smother worship. Too much vertical without including the congregation turns most of the congregation into spectators as well. Healthy congregational worship flows between the vertical and the horizontal: some movements of a service are meant to connect us with one another (greetings, information about a community's life together), some are meant to be vertical (music, offering), and some parts of a service are both vertical and horizontal (communion, sermon/homily).

Healthy services begin with leaders who are devoted to prayer and who understand deeply that their worship flows out being with God the other 167 hours of their week that they're not in front of a live mic. But they require more than a good relationship with God. Those leading public worship must serve God and people by embracing their sacred role as narrator. Each service tells a story, and anchors us afresh to the big Story of which we're a part.

And every good story is held together by its transitions.

Transitions - segue ways, shifts, bridges - help a congregation follow the flow of a service. Thoughtful transitions are designed to take the stress off of the congregation members who will work on their own to form connections between two disparate pieces of a service - or check out if the whole event seems like a random collection of stuff that's somehow about God.

Leaders who care about transitions communicate deep intentionality, and this applies to free-wheeling Charismatic services just as much as it does to the more predictable services led by those with degrees from Fundy Bible U. Someone caring about transitions frees a congregation to "go with the flow" - and that flow actually creates space inside people's heads and hearts for the Holy Spirit to speak.

One simple question needs to be applied to each element of a corporate service: How does this part connect to what came before it?

The microphone holders need to think about those transitions with the same shepherding care that they use to approach their particular pieces of the service.

In my next post, I'll take a look at how these bridges from here to There can change a service from a collection of disconnected elements into a story.

Building a bridge from here to There

2011-06-08T20:21:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a village near the forest. Whenever she went out, the little girl wore a red riding cloak, so everyone in the village called her Little Red Riding Hood. The giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis) is an African even-toed ungulate mammal , the tallest of all extant land-living animal species , and the largest ruminant .

Let that magical paragraph wash over you for a moment.

What? You don't understand it? You don't see the obvious connection between Red Riding Hood and giraffes?

Don't feel bad. I don't either.

Without transitions, those ideas clash like the outfits of babushka'd old women often seen waiting at city bus stops. Writers know that transitions are web, glue and story-maker, even if they're writing a manual on how to operate a microwave. They are essential in helping us make connections between disparate ideas.

Let's do a little transition-making edit on that Red Riding Hood-Giraffe paragraph. (Warning: This is not great writing. It is just an example, and if you can create a better link between Red and the Giraffe, please leave it in the comments box. It'd be fun to see what you do with it.) Here's my attempt:

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a village near the forest. Whenever she went out, the little girl wore a red riding cloak, so everyone in the village called her Little Red Riding Hood. She'd spent the first part of her childhood living in Africa with her missionary parents, but after they returned to their home town, she adapted to her new life as a cloak-wearing villager. No one would have ever known that she missed Africa every waking moment of her days. After all, she'd had to leave her best friend Genette behind. Genette was a giraffe. For those who have never had the pleasure of having a friend like Genette, a bit of introduction to the species might be in order. The giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis) is an African even-toed ungulate mammal, the tallest of all extant land-living animal species, and the largest ruminant.

Like I said, it may not be great writing, but at least it doesn't leave you scratching your red riding hood in confusion. I serve as an online tutor for a number of home school students, and understanding how to transition between ideas comes easily to some and has to be coached into the writing of others.

Some of the basics of transitioning can be taught, but a lot of them are caught through exposure. Transitions are all around us - from those awkward segue-ways during local newscasts ("Speaking of hot, how about them Cubs?") to the fades and dissolves in every video, TV show and movie to the way most of us move from topic to topic in unstructured conversation.

And of course, we see transitions in what we read. When a reader is carried to new places by an author's words, transitions have created an invisible bridge from here to There.

As a writer, I want to create bridges and carry readers to the places God has carried me. I don't ever want to leave a reader behind because my bridge is poorly constructed.

There is one group of people who don't always do much thinking about communication transitions - to their detriment. Next time, I'll take a look at who these people are and what they can do to carry their audience with them.

Review: Love You More

2011-06-06T11:19:00.005-06:00

Adoption has shaped my life in ways both beautiful and heartbreaking.

We were foster parents with Bethany Christian Services for two years. It was a high honor to be a part of the birth of a new family, and witness the courage of birth parents who'd chosen to release their babies into a future with this carefully-chosen family. Beautiful.

The heartbreaking part of adoption in my life comes in two different forms: My mom was adopted under a veil of secrecy by an alcoholic relative and his wife after her birth mom died. And during our own foster parenting years, our attempts to adopt an older child in the state system were unsuccessful.

The heartbreak only serves to underscore the eternal importance of adoption to me. Scripture highlights the stunning bravery of the adopted Esther, and refers to the people chosen to be brought into God's family with language that highlights the intimacy of the relationship. It reflects his heart and changes lives.

And the lives that get changed aren't just those of the adoptees. Author Jennifer Grant has penned a wonderfully honest memoir of her journey into adoption that shows how her life, her marriage, her family and her network of relationships have all been reshaped by the adoption of her fourth child, Mia.

Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter (Thomas Nelson, 2011) documents her journey from busy mother of three children born in the span of 3-1/2 years through the deep sense she and her husband had that their fourth child was waiting "out there" somewhere, through the adoption decathalon and into the always-shifting challenges and blessings of becoming and being a forever family:

     I was eager to prove wrong the people who expressed concern about my adopting her - those who told me horror stories about troubled adopted children, who wondered aloud whether she would be close to her siblings, who lamented that she wouldn't compare favorably with my older three. In my heart, I knew these cynics were wrong (and indeed time has shown that they were), but instead of releasing their negative comments, I set out - for a time - to prove them wrong.
      Now that my little daughter is a happy, thriving member of the family, I find myself spending much more time just being with her. We look at the autumn leaves. We read books. We laugh together at her silly jokes.
     I enjoy her presence, and my own.
     And loving her makes me want to be present for others too...Adopting Mia...(has) torn off the veneer and helped me to live a little more honestly - which is to say, of course, that's it's made my life harder.

Grant's insights are rich (the chapters in the section entitled "Waiting For Mia" would be super-helpful reading for anyone pondering what it's like to enter the adoption process), poignant (her story about feasting on blueberries with Mia a couple of days after she brought her home and realizing she had no idea what her little girl liked to eat put a lump in my throat) and honest (meshing lives is a messy process). Her faith shines through, but the book's focus isn't at all "Christian adoption" but "A Christian family who adopted a little girl from Guatemala". In other words, an occasionally heart-rending and wholly beautiful adoption story.

Though the 221-page book will appeal to adoptive families, I believe anyone who appreciates a finely-crafted memoir loaded will find Love You More well worth their time. Highly recommended.

2011-05-31T08:09:00.001-06:00

When I was a kid, I used to tuck a small transistor radio under my pillow at night and listen to the clear-channel Top 40 broadcasts beamed across the Midwest from WLS-AM and WCFL-AM. I used to think it was the tunes that hooked me, but now I realize it was the DJ's talk that connected with me. It was as though they were escorting me into their oh-so-cool world - and I could go, even if I was an 11 year-old kid awake in a darkened bedroom in Des Plaines, IL.

The technology has changed from transistor to ipod, and now I get to choose the places I go when I listen to a podcast in the darkness. Here are some of my current favorites, in no particular order, from my podcast rotation:

Prairie Home Companion's News From Lake Woebegone

- Garrison Keillor's invented small-town MN world comes alive because of his wry and witty attention to detail about our human condition.

Christianity Today's Books & Culture podcast

- John Wilson is a great reviewer and thinker, and highlights the work of writers from a wide array of genres and themes.

Focus on the Family's The Boundless Show

- This one maybe shouldn't be considered a favorite because I often turn it off when the tone gets a little too smarmy or strident, but when it's good, the conversations about contemporary life from the twenty- and thirty-something crew can be fairly interesting.

Israel National Radio/various

- Arutz Sheva is the radio voice of the Modern Orthodox movement in Israel, and some of their shows are fascinating: Aliyah Revolution (issues related to immigration to Israel), Land Minds (profiling archaeological finds and controversies), Temple Talk (Third Temple guys discussing Torah readings, current events and more, through the filter of their dream of rebuilding the Temple).

Steve Brown Etc.

- I love Steve Brown, and he gets a lot of really interesting guests on his show (John Armstrong, Anne Jackson, Scot McKnight). I do not love his sniggering cohosts, which occasionally turn the show into a bad imitation of a small-town FM "Morning Zoo" program. Favorite with an asterisk, because I have to turn this one off from time to time as well.

This American Life

- Brilliant. Thought-provoking. Entertaining. There are not enough superlatives to describe just how wonderful this slice-of-life story-driven show can be. Highly recommended.

One Year Daily Audio Bible

Former music exec Brian Hardin has created a completely unique program. Each day, he reads from the Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs, mixing translations and bookending the reading with a personal note and prayer. Wonderful production values and Brian's warm voice and personality make this a must-listen for me.

Got any suggestions of podcasts I should add to the rotation?

Born this way?

2011-05-27T13:59:00.001-06:00

Sometimes a single idea will anchor itself in your frontal lobe and won't release itself from your brain until your thinking changes shape. A couple of weeks ago, I heard a thought that started to push on my thinking. Maybe you can help me understand why this man's comment has been haunting me.

First, some background: Our last day in Jerusalem, we attended a forum where young Messianic and Arab Christian leaders talked about the challenges and opportunities they were facing in Israel. Some issues were similar to the kinds of next-generation issues we talk about in the American church: community, fragmentation, the influence of media, healthy models of discipleship. Other issues were definitely rooted in the unique political and social divisions that go back to the earliest chapters of the book of Genesis. The conversation and interchange of ideas was fascinating.

One leader said the thing that I can't stop thinking about. He is a well-educated Russian Jewish believer who'd come to Israel during the great wave of post-USSR immigration during the 1990's. He noted wistfully, "In Russia, I was a Jew. In Israel, I am a Russian."

In other words, he has lived as an outsider in two distinctly different cultures. (Throw his faith in Christ into the mix and he becomes even more marginalized in both of those cultures.) He has spent a lifetime dealing with issues of identity. To complicate matters, the Church hadn't necessarily been much of either a sanctuary or a place to help him embrace who he was and where he'd come from.

We quote Galatians 3:26-29 a little too glibly, I think. We use it to tell people that their identity, their tribe, doesn't matter when it comes to faith. That's true. Bloodlines can't save people - faith in the finished work of Christ does. But who we are and where we've come from matters, or the distinction wouldn't have been made in the book of Revelation:

"After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands." (Rev. 7:9)

The nations, tribes, peoples and language groups are distinctly different from one another - yet they all have the same Clothier, dressing them one and all in white robes. In their diversity, they are before Him, one people - His bride.

Focus too strongly on your tribal identity and you will plunge into racist thinking. Most of us understand that. But it is equally unrealistic to think that who we are and where we come from is irrelevant. We are, to drastically misapply a pop song lyric, born this way. Celebrating our tribal identity is a small but helpful short-term antidote to the effects of marginalization while we live on planet earth. And living into our identity as cherished sons or daughters of the King is the cure.

What do you think? Does "tribal identity" matter in the Church? Why or why not?

Shalom (as in "good bye") Israel

2011-05-17T15:46:00.000-06:00

We arrived safe and sound in Round Lake after 11:00 p.m. last night, and jet lag is definitely taking hold of me this afternoon. However, I did want to give you a final look at our last couple of days in Israel.

First, take a moment to pray for the continuing escalation of tensions across the Middle East. The entire region is undergoing a political and social shaking; the shaking has all kinds of spiritual implications. Sunday's nakba protests left at least 15 dead in Israel/Gaza, Lebanon and Syria. Of one thing I am certain: in the midst of the increasingly intense chaos, God is calling each one of his children in the region to himself. There is no other refuge, no hiding place, except him.

On our final day in Israel, we awoke to a view of the Sea of Galilee, then headed to the spot on the Sea where Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount. Three of us took turns reading the passage aloud as we stood in that place. The place is a magnet for pilgrims from all over the world. I found myself praying that Jesus' own people (and mine!) would be drawn to his words - they were there in droves on the day 2,000 years ago that he first gave this revolutionary teaching in the natural amphitheater along the shore.

We then headed up the scary steep switchback road to the top of Mount Tabor, site of Deborah's victory before we ended our day in Tel Aviv. After dumping our bags at the hotel, we headed to the Mediterranean. Though it was a bit late (and a bit cool) for swimming, I did wade into the water before we ate dinner while watching the sun set. What a way to end the gift of an amazing two and a half weeks in Israel.

I've now been there four times, and each time I leave the country, I leave a little more of my heart behind.

And I think that's exactly how I'm meant to feel.

Enjoy a few pix of our last couple of days there:

In Tiberias, along the Sea of Galilee, just before the sky opened up.

Blessed are they that don't bring their pets, wear shorts, yap, drink, shoot or smoke on the Mount of Beatitudes.

They do sell wine at the Mount of Beatitudes gift shop. But you have to drink it somewhere else.

Near the monastery atop Mt. Tabor. The site is considered one of the possible places where the Transfiguration took place.

At the top of Mt. Tabor, with a view of a village below. Yes, those tiny little boxes are houses. Did I mention I don't like heights?

One more wee update

2011-05-14T01:17:00.000-06:00

Woke up this morning to the sound of pigeons discussing the rain. I saw the Sea of Galilee (also known as Lake Kinnaret) out of our hotel window. It was a pretty amazing way to start the day.

Finished up the week in Jerusalem. I have limited internet access for the next few days, but did want to give you a quick final update. Here are some headlines:

- Bill's meetings with the Caspari board went well. They've launched a teaching/social ministry to believing singles; and are continuing to offer congregations leadership training and Shabbat school teacher training. There are plans in the works for some very cool publishing projects as well as the lecture series that Caspari excels at producing.

- While I was cataloging 20 year old journals into the new library system in Caspari's theological library, I "just so happened" to open one and glance through it - and to my surprise, I found an article written by the husband of a friend I was scheduled to meet just a few minutes later. I made a copy and handed it to her. She couldn't believe it - and neither could I! It was one of those delightful God moments. The chances of me being in Israel to discover a long-lost article written more than two decades ago just before I was to see a friend here have to be pretty darn infintesimal.

- The final day we were at Caspari, the team put together a forum allowing younger Messianic and Arab believers to talk about the challenges and opportunities the body faces in the country. I hope to have more to say about this in a later blog post. Suffice it to say, it was a rich day, and there were probably 70-90 people in attendance.

We'll be in Tiberias for the next day or so, then head to Tel Aviv. We fly back to Chicago on Monday.

Growing things love Israeli sunshine.

Proving support to an ancient olive tree.

Holding hands.

Just some of the treasure trove of journals in the Caspari archives.

Friday seminar at Caspari

Visiting a site in Jezreel (Yisreel) with the archaeologist who led the dig here.

Another Jerusalem update

2011-05-09T02:37:00.001-06:00

Bill arrived in Jerusalem on Saturday afternoon, and after a meal and a short nap, we visited a local congregation with one of the Caspari workers. When we arrived, she said, "Oh! I forgot this is a Hebrew-language service!" After a bit of scrambling, an interpreter was pressed into service for us and one or two of the other visitors. It was wonderful to sing Scripture-based worship songs in Hebrew (we punted our way through the transliterations), and the pastor's message was similar in nature to the sermon I heard at another congregation last week. In short, the essence of the messages were "Prepare yourselves by placing your hope fully in God, because we are heading into dark days in this land and region."

After the service, we had some great conversations with several other English-speaking Jewish believers about their experiences here in Israel. It's challenging here, but each one affirmed that they knew God had led them to return.

Yesterday, Bill and I had a day in the Old City. We visited and prayed at the Western Wall, and then participated in a tunnel tour that has been dug under the length of the Temple Mount. It was one of the most remarkable tours we've ever taken. Afterwards, we wandered around the Jewish Quarter, and sat in the square outside the Hurva Synagogue people watching. We ended our visit there with a trip through the Crusader-era Tower of David museum/archaeological dig. All of Jerusalem was crawling with soldiers here for security and to participate in various Memorial Day/Israeli Independence Day celebrations.

Below, you'll find a few pix of our adventures:

One kind of watchman on the walls of the Old City

I can not think of a clever caption, but I bet you can.

Everywhere.

Under the Temple Mount on the tour, this marks the spot where Abraham brought Isaac, where the Shekinah Glory of God resided in the Holy of Holies, where the curtain was torn on the day Jesus was crucified, and where He will return. Soon.

Jewish women praying underground near the site of the Holy of Holies.

In the Tower of David, you can see round rocks used as projectiles during some of the Crusader battles nearly 1000 years ago.

Midweek update from Jerusalem

2011-05-04T11:54:00.002-06:00

Some have asked how this week's news about Osama bin Laden has impacted life in Israel. It has been front-page news, but there is so much happening here that the event doesn't have the same impact that I'm sure it's having in the U.S.

The Caspari team has kept me busy this week doing office-type tasks. Today, I entered data base information all day as they're cataloging back issues of magazines and journals in the library. The work reminds me of my old Trinity Bookstore days, but without the endless conversation. The Caspari site is, after all, a serious academic library. A couple of visiting scholars used the library this morning. Most of the other Caspari staffers were involved in leading a seminar about the Messianic movement with a group visiting the city.

Last night, I was going to go to a prayer meeting, but decided at the last moment to stay here and relax. It was a good thing, because the power went out in this cavernous old stone church building. I wouldn't have been able to get back in to the building until the power came on because all of the outside gates are electrified. The man heading the CMA ministry base here was away, and his wife was on the phone with him trying to trouble-shoot the electrical problem. I grabbed my tiny booklight (it was the only flashlight we could find at first) and followed her around as she tried resetting the circuit breakers in five or six different locations in the building, with zero success. Turns out the power was out because of a nearby auto accident.

I am still pondering the words I heard about this city earlier this week. "It is impossible to live in this place and not believe in anything." There is no where else on the face of this earth where there are so many people so deeply committed to fully living out so many different types of religious practice, all living as pilgrims cheek-to-jowl in an impossibly tiny area.

They can't all be right.

So today my prayer is that all us pilgrims will find our way home - each fearful, hungry, hopeful person. And that includes you and me:

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.'” (Rev. 21:1-4)

Finally, I haven't done a lot of sightseeing yet - first, because I am an American woman alone here, and second, because I know that Bill will be here this weekend and we'll get an opportunity to do so together.

In the meantime, here's a couple of pix showing you where I've been working and staying this week:

This is the CMA building, which has 4 congregations meeting here during each weekend, and several guest rooms. Caspari rents space here.

This is Heidi, a Caspari volunteer from Norway. I've been working with her this week.

Here's part of the library.

Jam-packed 24 hours/Day 1

2011-05-01T11:20:00.000-06:00

I've been here in Jerusalem for 24 hours or so, and here's what I've experienced so far:

I didn't take this picture, but this is pretty much the scene that greeted me.

- An angry mob of about 80-100 ultra-Orthodox Jews standing at an intersection about a half a block from the guest house where I'm staying. Apparently, they camp out there on Saturday afternoons and yell at cars and non-Orthodox pedestrians for violating the Shabbat rules. Occasionally, these noisy protests have become violent, though these incidents are infrequent. But I'll tell you, I did have a few moments of fear as I tried to wheel my suitcases into the courtyard of the guest house without drawing their attention. Here's what went through my mind: "I am an obviously Jewish woman, dressed immodestly by tzniut standards, dragging luggage into a church building on a Saturday. Uh oh. Help!" Thankfully, they were too busy screaming and chanting to notice me - and perhaps God shielded me from their sight. The experience certainly got my adrenaline flowing after the long flight here.

- Hit the Mehane Yehuda market this morning. It was fun choosing some cheese, almonds, tomatoes, and some pickled baby eggplant to have on hand for meals during the next few days. It is so easy to eat healthy here!

- Spent the day working in the new Caspari Center library. I did a lot of label cutting and binder organizing, which wouldn't necessarily be the most fascinating thing to do here in Jerusalem, except that inside those binders is a living history of most every news story that has anything to do with Jewish believers as well as the Church in the land since Caspari came into existence three decades ago. It is a fascinating archive that has a bit of a scribe's feel to it - not in terms of accurately capturing the Word of God, but of tracking evidence of God's work here in Israel. I came here this week to help out, and I'm glad I was able to get started today.

- Visited the largest evangelical/Charismatic congregation in Jerusalem for their English language services tonight. It was wonderful to worship God together with other believers from all over the world, and it really is something to hear a Bible place name in a message - and realize that that place is ten minutes away. I hope to spend a bit of time at the church's prayer room later this week.

-I'm looking forward to having my husband here at the week's end. He'll be here for the Caspari board meeting, and we'll get a chance to do a bit of sightseeing as well.

I value your continued prayers for this land, as well as for my family and I.

Oprah's worst-dressed audience member

2011-04-26T07:02:00.002-06:00

You're probably aware that Oprah is broadcasting the final few shows of her program's last season. The ABC affiliate in Chicago rebroadcasts her show at 11:05 p.m. each night, and because of my ongoing midlife sleep battles, I have seen some of the programs of this final season. She's a fascinating personality, and though I can't affirm some of what she preaches, I also can't deny her sister-girlfriend relateability or her epic generosity.

I am way late to the Oprah party. I had the opportunity to be an audience member at her show about eight or nine years ago, and had never seen the program before I found myself sitting about 4 rows from the stage. The whole experience was an unforgettable lesson in being woefully under-dressed.

A friend from church had a daughter, M, who'd discovered her breast cancer after watching an Oprah show about the subject. M sent an email to the show's producers to thank them, and told them that the information on the program probably saved her life. When the program's producers decided to do a show following up on some of the stories they'd done, they contacted M and invited her to appear on the show. They flew to her southern home to get some footage of her life and experience with treatment.

When my WI friend found out her daughter was going to be a guest on the show, she contacted the producers and told them she hadn't seen her daughter since the diagnosis. She knew of Oprah's fondness for giving people happy surprises, and told my friend that they'd bring her on stage as a surprise for her chemo-ill daughter.

My friend called me. "I've never driven in Chicago before! Would you be my chauffeur? I can get you a ticket to be in Oprah's audience that day."

I didn't watch daytime TV, and really didn't know much Oprah's show at the time. But I was always up for an adventure, so I told her I'd gladly be her limo driver. Because my friend was a guest on the show, we were ushered into a private entrance and whisked to a make-up room so they could do their magic on my friend. After they finished, a production assistant escorted us to one of the studio's green rooms.

"We have a seat for you in the audience," the staffer said to me. It is important to note what I was wearing that day: grubby jeans, a sweatshire and, most likely, some tired Birkenstocks. I was my friend's roadie, and hadn't thought much about what would happen once I arrived at the studio. I figured I'd watch from backstage. The part about watching from the audience didn't register with me at all. Since I'd never seen the show, I certainly didn't know anything about what it meant to be an Oprah audience member.

Big mistake.

When she ushered me to my seat near the front of the studio, I was seated next to a woman wearing some very expensive leopard-print stillettos. I will always remember those shoes, maybe because I saw them as I settled into my seat. I looked up and saw a well-coiffed blonde wearing them; designer-dressed head to toe. A wave of insecurity swept over me similar to the feeling I got when I got paired with a perky, pretty cheerleader as my lab partner in high school.

And then as I slowly scanned the room, I realized I was sitting in an audience comprised of a couple hundred cheerleaders. Every single woman was dressed to kill - or at least maim.

I. Had. No. Idea.

A producer emerged onto the stage and warmed up the audience. "When did you all start getting ready to be here today?" Everyone except me laughed. She began a backwards countdown: Yesterday? Two days ago? The winner of her informal poll had started her prep a week earlier. I slunk lower in my seat and stared at those leopard-print stilettos until they cued the music and Oprah took the stage.

I'm glad to report that my cleaning-the-garage look didn't negatively impact the show. My friend and her daughter had a happy reunion on camera, and the entire experience was indeed an adventure.

And a lesson in doing my homework before I leave the house to have an adventure.

Watch and pray

2011-04-21T16:15:00.001-06:00

The disciples experienced all kinds of amazing weeks with Jesus, but none of them were anything like the week they headed into Jerusalem just before Passover. The crowds up north, in Galilee, clamored to get near Jesus because they hoping to see a miracle, or they were enthralled by his teachings. The people of Jerusalem greeted Jesus though they were welcoming a king to town. Their hope-filled celebration turned to ice as Jesus publicly and frequently challenged the beliefs and motivations of the city's religious authorities over the next few days.

But Jesus didn't come to Jerusalem to increase his fan base. He was there for Passover, and gathered with his friends in an upper room of a stranger's house steps from the site of King David's tomb. He feasted with his friends, as they shared the ritual meal recounting the deliverance from slavery to freedom. Woven through the Exodus narrative, Jesus again reminded them of who he was - and who they were and would be as a result of following him.

It had been an intense few days, and after cups of good wine and the best food and prayer and that troubling exit of Judas and footwashing that had nearly undone them all, it must have been a relief as the group exited into the cool Judean nighttime air.

Probably a sense of corporate weariness hit them as they quietly walked down from Mount Zion into a low, green valley and then began a gentle ascent toward their lodging on the Mount of Olives. Food, wine and long days leading up to this point must have made for a quiet group as they hiked. A garden grove of olive trees, an oasis, beckoned. Jesus had a simple ask of his friends: "Sit here while I go over there and pray." Wait for me. I won't be long.

He invited three of the group to go with him, and as he walked away from those who'd been his family for the last three years, waves of coal-black sorrow rose and crashed over him. He moved away from the trio in order to let his anguished words flow freely. He pleaded with his Father, and all that he was in that moment became a single sentence of anguished surrender: “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

They'd shared cups of red wine at the Passover table a short time earlier - drinking as they celebrated God's hallowing presence, his miraculous deliverance, and the certain hope of redemption. It was this cup of redemption he passed to them, telling them he would not drink wine again, a symbol of joy, again until God's kingdom came. It was this cup of redemption, he said, that was his new covenant, made in his own blood, poured out for them.

For us.

Alone among the olive trees, he wrestled in prayer. Anguish caused him to sweat drops of blood; wine spilled from his soul.

Lulled by the silence of the night, the first peaceful moments of the week, perhaps, and their full stomachs and depleted emotions, Jesus' friends nodded off only to be awakened by his heartbroken words. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

Murmured apologies came, and they all bowed obediently in prayer as Jesus again moved away into the darkness. Their momentary embarrassment ebbed. They'd done far more boneheaded things before, and he loved them anyway. This assurance, and the narcotic of the nighttime once again did its work on them. They slept.

Just steps away, in that moment, became a single sentence of anguished surrender: “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.” When he returned again to his friends, only to be met with their slow, steady, silent breathing. Asleep. Again.

It was the last intimate moment he would have alone with them.

What must have passed through his heart as he looked at their sleeping figures in the moonlight?