YoSteve

Adjustment for the Sake of Mission

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This post is the third post in a nine-part series reflecting on InterVarsity's Ambition conference. For more posts in this series, check out the series frontpage (Series: An Ambition for Mission)

"If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten."

I must have heard my mentor Bill Hunter say these words a dozen times. If we want to change our outcomes in ministry (or business or education or government), we need to change our inputs and our processes.

Change is difficult.
Change can be scary.
Change will always be necessary.

The "big name" at the Ambition Conference was Alan Hirsch. He's follower of Jesus and a strategic thinker about God's mission and the church. He's written several books and directs Forge, an incubator for the people of the missional movement.

He presented us with a series of big adjustments churches and ministries can make to better pursue God's mission, what he called: ReJesus, ReDisciple, ReMission and ReOrganize.

ReJesus

The first move, according to Hirsch, must always be a move back to Jesus. Over time, churches and parachurch movements drift away from Jesus, building a shell of religion around the center of relationship. Christology reorients us toward mission.

This is a challenge for our work on campus, as many students long to go deeper with God and assume that "Deeper" equals "Away from Jesus." We study Mark and John with students every year, stories about Jesus. And we want students to be able to see Jesus in the Old Testament. But we have to fight the drift of boredom and the shallow desire for "depth."

What would happen if "deeper" meant "toward Jesus"?

ReDisciple

As missional communities reorient themselves to Jesus and dig into Christology, Hirsch notices that a funny thing begins to happen. Crowd size and swelling attendance seem to matter less and less. It's not a big deal if the crowd wanders off in search of a new spectacle. Investment of resources begins to be focused on smaller units: neighborhoods and disciples.

When I started working with InterVarsity, discipleship was a big deal. We invested in the lives of students: counseled them, cared for them, equipped them, spent time with them, prayed for them, loved them. The work of discipleship is small work, non-spectacular, seemingly inefficient. And that's why so few people prioritize discipleship.

Many pastors spend most of their time preparing their sermons and "casting vision," and little time with people. Many InterVarsity Staff prefer to speak at Large Groups and plan training events for students, claiming they don't have time to disciple.

What would happen, though, if we made significant investments in a small number of people? Some would squander that investment, sure. Big opportunities would pass us by. But we would be ministers who actually loved people ... and that matters.

Tell me, what sort of person are you becoming as you minister? Do you feel like you are becoming more and more like Jesus as you serve him?

ReMission

At this point in the session, Hirsch really hits his stride. He challenges us to consider the source of our thinking about mission: is it from ecclesiology or theology? Does the church have a mission or does the mission have a church?

For Hirsch this thinking about mission radicalizes our discipleship. We see the mission as God's mission, a mission he includes us in (to be sure), but his mission none-the-less. We do not initiate, we join.

And as late-joiners to the ongoing mission of God, we must keep in step with him. And if God prioritizes incarnation as his mode of self-revelation and rescue, we must learn to be a people who are truly present in the lives of others (both Christians and those who have yet to take up their cross).

For campus ministry, this presents a true challenge, as our organization requires us to have completed a degree before joining Staff. In my 8 years of campus ministry, I've never attended a single class. As an InterVarsity Staffworker, I've reveled on being an outsider, a voice in the wilderness. But is this Christ-like?

How can we better pursue incarnation in ministry, joining our God who is truly present on the college campus by being truly present ourselves?

ReOrganize

At this point in the session, Hirsch was pressed for time and rushed to his conclusion. He challenged us to rethink how we organize for mission. His challenge included these points:

Include everyone (no spectators)
Develop a structural network
Decentralize power
Think about Ephesians 4 roles

For our work on campus, this reorganization flows really well with our re-emphasis on discipleship, but adds a challenge. It isn't enough for us to disciple students. We need to raise up generations of students who will disciple other students. We need to raise up students who will live in the dorms or hang out after class and help their peers see Jesus. We need to help students get off of the bench.

In our Area, we've struggled to helps students see themselves as leaders. In the past year and a half, we grown from reaching 170 students to reaching 305 students, but our leader-numbers have dropped from 35 to 25. We have more and more students, but fewer and fewer of them see themselves as players in the game. The stands are filling, as are the benches, but we don't have enough players on the field.

How do we help students see themselves differently?

In tomorrow's post, I'll reflect on the Q&A that followed Alan Hirsch's session, particularly on his claim that we were coming to the end of the parachurch era. Should we "break our contract" with local congregations and start our own churches? I'll post a link here (The Future of the Parachurch in God's Mission) as soon as the post publishes.

Eschatology and Mission

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

This post is the second post in a nine part series reflecting on InterVarsity's Ambition conference. For more posts in this series, check out the series frontpage (Series: An Ambition for Mission)

We have a hard time knowing what to do with eschatology.

Some of us cash in on the study of "last things." We make wild predictions and call for donations. We make wild accusations and sell books. We make popular fiction and entrap the holy imagination of a generation in small, narrow boxes.

Some of us avoid eschatology actively. The return of King Jesus sounds like a fantasy and his judgement sounds frightening and cruel, out of step with his character of love and mercy. We avoid eschatology as speculation, as ignorance, as a too-gleeful sneering cackle directed at the world God so loves.

But more of us just ignore eschatology, feeling like it has little to do with our day-to-day lives and our engagement with the mission God has included us in.

Not York Moore.

At the Ambition Conference he talked about the Artist of all time, willing to completion his master work, molded from the shards of his shattered Creation. The completion of God's master work is one way of talking about eschatology. And this way of talking about eschatology sculpts the way we view mission.

Our engagement with God's mission is shaped by our view of the end to which God is working. The goal is to make all things new. Following God and with his power, we make new whatever we can. We fight the old, broken, dirty and selfish. Rejuvenate. Pour life into. Bless and serve. And all this in light of God's ongoing work.

Eschatology provides a ring of urgency and saves us from panicked desperation in our participation in God's mission.

As York said, our soteriology sustains us in mission while our eschatology propels us into mission. Without a firm conviction that King Jesus will make all things new, we cannot deeply participate in the mission of God.

What would it look like if we served the poor, fed the hungry, fought injustice, shared the gospel, loved our neighbors, loved our enemies, loved God ... and did all this with a ring of urgency. Not as if this was our last chance, but as if this was our best chance?

As for me, I was challenged by this talk. I have frequently avoided conversations about eschatology, feeling like they distracted us from the real and important task of following Jesus today. These conversations frequently devolve into argument and arrogance. And I'm tired of people who sit on the sidelines debating because they are too afraid or too lazy or too well-pressed to get in the game and get dirty.

But after hearing York's talk I had to wonder, what am I missing by ignoring eschatology? What are we missing?

Monday's post will reflect on Alan Hirsch's session, particularly on his challenge to us to refocus on Jesus, disciple well, rethink mission and organize accordingly. A link will be posted here as soon as the post publishes (Adjustments for the Sake of Mission)

Series: An Ambition for Mission

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 16:26:00 +0000

"Start something new."

This phrase rang throughout the Ambition Conference up in Tampa last weekend. Together with 200 Staff from around the country, 100 student leaders and a handful of outside-InterVarsity voices, my Staff team and I engaged deeply with this idea.

Over the next couple of days, I'll post reflections on what I learned and experienced at Ambition. Links will be posted here as they become available:

Eschatology and Mission (reflecting on York Moore's talk)
Adjustments for the Sake of Mission (reflecting on Alan Hirsch's session)
The Future of the Parachurch in God's Mission (reflecting on Q&A with Alan Hirsch)
Insights into Planting at Community Colleges (applying ideas)
Equipping Everybody for Mission (reflecting on Kim Hammond's talk)
Storytelling and Mission (reflecting on Q&A with Kim Hammond and Alan Hirsch)
Insights into Planting at Hispanic Serving Institutions (applying ideas)
Apostolic Missional Movements (reflecting on Brian Sanders' talk)

What if the Christmas Story was an Immigration Story?

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

We've passed Christmas. For the most part, we've left it far behind. Maybe you still have your lights up. Maybe you're still returning gifts that didn't quite fit. But you're off to the New Year.

But I found myself today thinking about Christmas, and looking at it through a slightly different lens.

What if the Christmas Story was an Immigration Story?

Take 1

Jesus: I was born into poverty, in a strange place.
YoSteve: Your parents were immigrants?
Jesus: No, well, kind of. My mother was from here. So was my step-father.
YoSteve: But your biological father?
Jesus: Some people don't believe it, but he's actually not from this planet.
YoSteve: So, you're part alien. I knew it. That whole walking on water thing.
Jesus: [Laughs politely]
YoSteve: Anti-gravity space sandals. Where can I get some of those?
Jesus: An alien, but not that kind of alien.
YoSteve: Do you have papers? A green card?
Jesus: No, I didn't get any of that.
YoSteve: I know this is a pointed question, but are you here legally?
Jesus: Does it matter?

Take 2

Another way of looking at the Christmas Story as an Immigration Story is to see God as the owner of the land. Under God's ownership, the world spoke a certain language, the language of love and faithfulness.

But look around and that's no longer what you see. The language of love and faithfulness is hard to find. Everywhere you look that language has been warped and twisted, abandoned. And God's ownership of the land has been denied. By me. And you. And people like us.

And God has the power to return everything to the way it was. To round us up and deport us. But he doesn't. He offers us papers of citizenship ... not just green cards ... but full citizenship.

Born in a manger, living a life among us, speaking the language of love and faithfulness, teaching it to our untrained ears, Jesus represents God's hand extended to us.

God didn't build fences but broke down dividing walls of hostility. (see Ephesians 2)

What would it look like for us to go and do likewise?

Considered an Outsider (A Reflection on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day)

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:23:00 +0000

Every year around this time I take a few minutes to sit and read Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's Letter from a Birmingham Jail. This long letter represents the closest thing (in my mind) we have to an American Epistle. Personal and historical, abstract and theological, poetic and sharp, Dr. King's response to the critics of the civil rights movement still resonates today.

[read the Letter here: Letter from a Birmingham Jail by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.]

Every year I read the Letter and every year something else jumps out to me.

This year, I'm fascinated by Dr. King's usage of insider/outsider language in his conversation about the marches that took place in Birmingham.

His critics called him an "outside agitator." And here is a small sample of his response:

I think I should indicate why I am here in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the view which argues against "outsiders coming in." I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty five affiliated organizations across the South, and one of them is the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Frequently we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago the affiliate here in Birmingham asked us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented, and when the hour came we lived up to our promise. So I, along with several members of my staff, am here because I was invited here. I am here because I have organizational ties here.

But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their "thus saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.

Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.

Dr. King draws on three themes to explain his presence: his ties to the community, the need for outsiders, and the myth of outsiders. These three themes roll throughout the Letter, challenging the story being told about the civil rights movement and about the church.

Ties to the community (I am an inside outsider)

Dr. King points out that he was invited to protest. He points out that his organization has ties to organizations in Birmingham. And in a piece of entangling alliances logic, makes the case for his presence in Alabama.

These entangling alliances (the SCLC with local movements) echo a deeper entanglement that Dr. King believes should compel white churches to join the civil rights cause. If Dr. King has ties to the oppressed men and women in Birmingham because of an organizational affiliation, how much more should the local white churches have ties to their oppressed neighbors?

When an outsider identifies himself with an oppressed people, something powerful happens. Walls collapse. Spotlights shifts. Change begins to roll.

In so many ways, this is what Jesus Christ has done for humanity. An outside agitator, he linked arms with us, for our salvation and our good.

How can we go and do likewise?

The need for outsiders (Outsiders are good)

Comparing himself to the prophets of the Hebrew Bible, Paul and even Jesus, Dr. King explains his presence by pointing to the missional perspective an outsider can bring. When a community is diseased and deceived, only an outsider can bring healing and enlightenment.

Outsiders, whether crossing state lines or denominational barriers or time horizons can speak prophetically to communities in bondage, whether that bondage is a ethnic bondage of oppressive segregation or a bondage of blindness that keeps us from seeing the sinfulness of the status quo.

It is altogether fitting and proper that salvation should come from outside.

What is our attitude toward outsiders? Are we open to hearing their voices?

The myth of outsiders (No man is an island)

Though he never quotes Donne, the interrelatedness theme rings throughout the Letter. Outsiders cannot just mind their own business because what happens here matters everywhere.

In our age of globalization and the resultant moves toward hyper-localism, the truth of the interrelatedness of communities cannot be forgotten by the church. The church is a universal and global body - expressed locally to be sure - and as such must not believe that local action is anathema to global concern.

As members of God's church, we are always and never outsiders. This tension is nearly unbearable. When we see sin, we want to distance ourselves and claim outsider status, denying our culpability. When we see opportunity or privilege, we want to deny our outsider status and demand the rights of insiders. But Christ compels us on a different path, a path that sets rights aside and that bears the consequences of sin (deserved or not).

What would it look like for us to live as resident aliens in this world, never accepting that our outsider status means we should care?

If you get a chance today, check out Dr. King's Letter from a Birmingham Jail and ask yourself what an appropriate response would look like.

Book Review: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 16:00:00 +0000

How do the Great become great?

"Loads of natural talent" some would answer.
"Hard work" others might say.
"The right opportunity" you might hear.
"All of the above" and you'd be right ... according to Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers.

The natural talent matters, but less than you'd think. It turns out that genius-level natural talent isn't extraordinarily rare. And a lot of geniuses live pretty normal lives.

According to Gladwell, these talented people fail to become "outliers" because either they didn't devote the time to developing their talent or because they never had the right opportunities to grow.

The book has fantastic stories, draws sweeping and interesting conclusions and entertains even when digging through hard, dry terrain. Like much of Gladwell's work, Outliers occupies that sweet spot where journalism and psychology. And it has some implications for how I think about ministry.

Devoting the time

This has two implications for us.

Firstly, as someone who works in campus ministry, I read Gladwell's Outliers and thought of the ever-present university conversation about "a liberal arts education" and "specialization."

A classical education covered a broad field: classics as well a math, science as well as philosophy, music as well as history. With the rise of state-funded, research-driven universities, higher ed has become more and more specialized. Students feel tremendous pressure to line up their education with a specific vocational objective.

At first blush, Gladwell's claim that it takes a significant devotion of time to become an "outlier" might seem to support the movement toward specialization. But the numbers don't line up. Gladwell doesn't just say that you need to devote time, he says that you need to devote a ton of time (10,000 hours). That's 40 hours a week, every week ... for 5 years. No breaks. No electives. No major changes. Not going to happen.

This doesn't decide the argument, not by any means. But as someone who not-so-secretly pulls for the liberal arts, it does encourage me.

Secondly (and much more briefly), Gladwell's insight challenges me to focus and focus on the things I want to excel at as a minister (and to be patient). I want to preach well and write well and disciple well. At the rate I'm going, it'll take me 20 years to become great. I need to be okay with that or make some changes.

Providing opportunity

One of the most beautiful elements of Outliers is Gladwell's delicate unwinding of the cultural forces that help the greats become outliers. Family, ethnic grouping, economics ... blind luck. All matter.

We want to build extraordinary followers of Jesus, extraordinary missionaries, extraordinary leaders ... outliers. And so many of the students don't have opportunities. They don't have intact families, don't have strong ethnic identity, don't have money. They go to school in places that don't have a lot of campus ministry activity.

Our presence on campus changes the environment. We provide opportunities to serve and lead and grow that these students wouldn't have otherwise.

And our presence could be a key ingredient God uses to form an outlier for good and truth and beauty in the world.

I would highly recommend this book.

What do you think it takes to make an outlier?

The Crowd and The Committed

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 02:10:00 +0000

The crowd clamors for attention.
The crowd comes and goes.
The crowd makes you feel good by showing up.
The crowd is easily counted.
But the crowd barely matters.

The committed blend quietly into the crowd.
The committed stick around long enough.
The committed may not impress.
The committed are also easily counted.
And the committed matter more than you can imagine.

Can you tell the two apart?

New Books and Old Books

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 22:35:00 +0000

Over Christmas break, I decided to take some time to re-read Athanasius' book De Incarnatione Verbi Dei (On the Incarnation). It's a classic book about Jesus.

Why did God become human?
What does that mean for us?
Why would anyone object to this?
What do we have to say to those objections?

Athanasius' book is beautifully written, clear and precise and old. Really old.

He wrote in the 4th century. When's the last time you read something so old?

At the beginning of one translation of Athanasius' De Incarnatione, you'll find an introduction from CS Lewis. Before he really gets to talking about the book (which he commends) and the translation (which he admires), Lewis gives this famous piece of advice:

It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between. If that is too much for you, you should at least read one old one to every three new ones.

His reasoning was that, while old books may have their errors, they have different errors from our own. And that God's work in our time is not the only work worth knowing. And that Time filters out books that aren't worth reading. And that old books give us context for current conversations.

And I have found this to be true. I'm shocked at the things Athanasius assumes to be true, curious about the things he considers to be important. The distance from his age to ours shows up on every page. And I love it.

I'm going to try this, this year. To read one old book for every three new ones.

And by "old," I'm going to try to read books written before the Enlightenment, before Luther and Calvin, more than 500 years old.

On my radar are Plato, Augustine, Eusebius, Herodotus, and Josephus.

Two questions:
Who else should I consider reading?
Have you ever tried this?

Prolific, Brilliant and Healthy

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 02:11:00 +0000

One of my favorite podcasts is The Accidental Creative by Todd Henry. He is an excellent interviewer, an insightful coach and someone who has managed to thrive in what he calls "the create-on-demand world."

Part of his mission is to help people who work with their minds - creatives - to be prolific, brilliant and healthy. That is, Todd wants to help people do a lot of work, do great work and to do it in a way that's sustainable.

Over the last couple of years, I feel like I've done great work with InterVarsity and (even if I haven't done great work) I've done a lot of work. Prolific. Okay. Brilliant. Maybe. But healthy? Not so much.

So, in the new year, I'm looking for ways to do my work in a way that's more healthy. This blog has been a huge step in the right direction for my health and sanity.

When I started preaching more intentionally and regularly, the blog gave me a place to share ideas that ended up on the cutting-room floor. It freed me from the guilt of leaving good content out of my sermons and allowed me to preach shorter and shorter sermons (which left everyone happier and me less exhausted).

When we made the move to Florida, I was so lonely, missing my regular conversation partners and not wanting to bore Amy with all of the random thoughts bouncing around in my head, especially not when she had been up to her elbows in poopy diapers and baby burp cloths. Blogging gave me an outlet.

And I'm trying to figure out what role this blog is going to play now.

I don't want it to be an ego extender.
I don't want it to be an obligation.
I don't want it to be a time killer.

Any ideas?

ps. One of the books I'm most looking forward to reading this year is Todd Henry's The Accidental Creative. Check it out and let me know what you think?

Posts from Urbana 09

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 02:41:00 +0000

Next December, we'll gather in St. Louis with 20,000 students and missionaries at the Urbana Missions Conference:

Urbana is a large-scale, empowering missions event held every three years and is the most diverse gathering of students, recent graduates, missions practitioners and church leaders in North America.

I've been to Urbana three times. I actually have had two job interviews at Urbana conferences. God has used Urbana to call and challenge me, to mold and shape me, to equip and inspire me.

At the last Urbana, I took time in between sessions to share what I was learning and thinking about during the conference. I've posted links to that series here:

Your Neighborhood is smaller/bigger than you think
Notes from Jim Tebbe's opening talk

Three M's from the Incarnation
Notes from Ramez Atallah's exposition from John 1:14

Grab Phrases
Conferences like Urbana have a ton of content. Here are some of the potent quotes.

Trust in the Sovereignty of God (Patrick Fung and Greg Jao)
An interview with the President of OMF and Urbana's MC (and chief celebrity)

Five Steps for Nathaniel
Notes from Ramez Atallah's exposition of John 1

The Short Post
A quick reflection on the day's teaching

It's about the Kenosis, Stupid
A more thorough reflection/application of the incarnation

A Credible Witness
Why don't people believe us?

What are you so afraid of?
An application from Brenda Salter-McNeil's sermon.

The Gospel Looks Fake
A reflection on the ethnic diversity at Urbana (and in the church)

The Secret is Where You Start
Seriously ... start small, here, now

The New One is not like the Old One
God's kingdom is a kingdom unlike any we've ever seen

Mercy, not sacrifice

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 14:00:00 +0000

"I desire mercy, not sacrifice."

This quote from the Old Testament comes up several times in the Gospels. Jesus says that things would be very different in the world if people understood this truth about God.

Mercy, not sacrifice ... this is what God desires.

We tend to exalt sacrifice in campus ministry. Sacrifice moves us.

We tell stories of sacrifice: the young man whose parents disowned him when he decided to be a missionary to students, the student who rides the bus for an hour to lead a Bible Study on campus, the Staffworker who sets aside great opportunities to follow Jesus.

There is something beautiful about sacrifice.
But that is not what God desires.

It's not that sacrifice is evil. God himself sacrificed himself for us, for our good and for our salvation. And through history, God has used our sacrificial systems to communicate to us truth about ourselves and about him.

But God desires mercy, not sacrifice.

One reason for this is very straightforward. If all God wanted was sacrifice, we would quickly create systems that required other people to sacrifice. Humans have a wild capacity to ask others to sacrifice. We ask children to sacrifice for our careers. We ask young soldiers to sacrifice for our safety. We ask the poor to sacrifice for our financial freedom.

And religious systems have frequently used principles of sacrifice oppressively. The hungry are asked to sacrifice because we don't harvest on the Sabbath. The sick are left sick because we don't want to dishonor the Sabbath. Sacrifice.

God desires mercy, not sacrifice because he wants us to be merciful toward others, and not sacrifice them.

The second reason God desires mercy is because he is merciful. God did not give us what we deserved. He held back. He showed mercy. Our devices and desires demanded that we be sacrificed, for the good of humanity, for our own good even (that we not be allowed to grow in our evil). But God choose to show mercy.

God wants us to be merciful because he is merciful.

Our world is full of conversation about sacrifice. In economics, people are talking about shared sacrifice. In politics, people are talking about sacrificing ego and agenda in order to compromise and work together. In the church, people are talking about sacrifical serving and sacrifical giving.

But there's very little conversation about mercy.

What would happen if the people of God decided to be merciful wherever they could, whenever they could, with whoever they could?

Start to obey today

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 19:00:00 +0000

There will always be a better time to begin being obedient.

But delayed obedience is a form of disobedience.

If God prompts you to pray, pray immediately, even if you can't pray for long, even if you don't know exactly what to pray about.

If God prompts you to give, don't wait too long. Don't give greed and selfishness time to chip away at the generous impulses of the Spirit.

If God prompts you to serve, don't put it off. Don't run the risk that he will move on and do the beautiful thing he wanted to do without including you.

If God prompts you to forgive, do it quickly, before the seeds of bitterness take root in the soil of your soul.

What would happen if all of God's people were quick to obey?

Health and Wealth and Knowledge

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 12:00:00 +0000

How do you know that God is pleased with someone? What does God's favor look like? What will you find if you look at the life of a thriving Christian?

One false gospel claims that the best Christians will be healthy. Freedom from sickness reflects your freedom from sin. A healthy body stands as the outward manifestation of a healthy soul. Strengthening your faith-muscles gives you a healthy glow. You'll live long.

Except that this didn't work for Jesus or the early church. Few lived to ripe old age.

Another false gospel claims that the best Christians will be wealthy. God blesses those he loves with material abundance. To the faithful, more will be given. God enlarges your tent if you obey him (especially with the tithe). You will prosper.

Except that this didn't work for Jesus or the early church. Few lived with great wealth.

Live long and prosper. Few evangelical Christians will claim that this is the goal of life or the good news about Jesus. Jesus didn't join our humanity, live a life of love, die on the cross, conquer sin and death, and rise to new life just so we can live long and prosper. He wants more for us than health and wealth.

We know this.

We ... know ... this.

Know.

This is the temptation for us. To measure by knowing. To measure not by health and wealth, but by knowledge.

Which books have you read?
Who and what can you quote?
Who do you recognize?
Do you know arcane theological terms?
Do you know the Alpha according to its nature?
Did you catch that reference to the Infancy Gospel of Thomas?

Knowledge, like health and wealth can become a false North Star for the Christian life. It's tempting for us to think that all God wants from us is to grow in knowledge, that a little more knowledge will solve all our problems. We look for answers in the latest books. Fight the latest controversies, thinking that if we're on the right side, we'll be accepted by God. We think that a little more knowledge will end war, end poverty, end racism and sexism and fanaticism.

--------------------------------------------------
This is where the Haiti Test comes in so handy.

The Haiti Test is a test my friend Evan Keller over at Entrust uses to fish for cultural snobbery in spiritual life. It goes like this: "if it isn't true in Haiti, it isn't true at all." The Haitians who most love Jesus don't experience health and a wealth. The earthquake shook everyone. Disease and poverty effects everyone. And the godliest people seem to suffer significantly.

With this in mind, it certainly wouldn't be fair to claim that a man in Haiti who was never taught to read can never be as favored by God as faux-Ivy Leaguers like me. By virtue of my education and comparative wealth, I will always have more knowledge, more access to knowledge, than that man in Haiti (and most of the people who ever lived).
---------------------------------------------

Now, you might say "Didn't Jesus have knowledge? And weren't the founders of the church wise?"

Sure. I'll give you that. But so were the Pharisees and the Sophists. They memorized the Scriptures. They were in constant dialogue with the most brilliant minds of their day. But they still missed out on Jesus.

Though wise, Jesus didn't make wisdom our goal. He didn't say "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, that you have great knowledge."

What did Jesus say?

If the mark of a disciple of Jesus isn't knowledge or health or wealth, what is it?

Seasons of Vocation

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 02:18:00 +0000

What do you do when a job you loved doesn't look so lovely?

I've had several conversations this week with folks who are finding themselves feeling uncomfortable with their jobs. Asked a year or two back, they would have said that they had a perfect job. Ask them today and you'll hear awkward stammering.

The world of vocation has shifted in our generation.

It used to be that you worked in a job or for a company for decades ... until retirement. My mentor, Bill, worked for Kodak for something like 30 years. 30 years. Can you believe that?

Today's job market isn't built for long-term commitment. And we aren't equipped (or willing) to make the sacrifices to roll with traditional vocational structures. We have different expectations for work.

I've seen this first-hand in my life. My desire to be a present father has deeply influenced my recent vocational shift (ie. the move from Campus Staff to Area Director). I knew that I couldn't work in the same rhythms and still be the kind of father I wanted to be.

This is one reason people fall out of love with jobs. A job that fit you in one stage of life may not fit you in another. That's not a criticism of the job, the people you work with, the organization, mission or cause. In fact, you may be able to adapt and thrive despite your shifting life stage. Or you may need to look for something else.

If you're finding yourself loving a job less and less, take a quick look at your life season. Was there a recent change that could explain the discontent?

Who do you know that is experiencing vocational discontent? Do you think you could help them see that a change in life stage may require changes around their work?

What is VS What could be

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 05:29:00 +0000

"Leadership is all about vision."

How often have you heard that? Vision ... painting a picture of what could be, making it feel like it should be ... that's vision, that's leadership.

Or is it?

As I've engaged in more intensive fundraising through December, I'm wondering whether I should talk about "what is" or "what could be".

I've been reporting to donors, letting them know how their money has been put to work and letting them know what God has been doing through our ministry.

And it's kind of exciting. We have 305 students involved. 9 chapters. 11 conversions. 17 supporting churches and over 100 donors.

God is doing amazing things: taking care of our students, taking care of us.

But I wonder if I'm showing enough "leadership."

We're serving 305 students but have only 3 paid Staff. We have generous supporters, but are running pretty short of our operating budget (you don't want to know the numbers). We're reaching 9 campuses, but I know of 14 campuses in our Area that have 0 campus ministry whatsoever.

We could have 500 students involved pretty easily.
We could add several staff pretty easily.
We could plant ministry on most of those empty campuses ... pretty easily.

But this sounds so sales-pitchy: "We could do all this stuff if we just had enough resources."
And this sounds so independent: "We could do this and we could do that ... and sprinkle some Jesus in there somewhere."

But I'm told that this is "vision" ... this is leadership. And I wonder why it makes me feel so uncomfortable. Am I even a real leader?

How do you decide when to talk about "what is" and when to talk about "what could be"?

What would Jesus picket?

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 03:56:00 +0000

"I'm against picketing ... but I don't know how to show it"
- Mitch Hedberg

The Westboro clan plans to come to Broward College Central tomorrow. These are the people who picket soldiers' funerals and carry signs talking about all of the people God hates. They call themselves Westboro Baptist Church, but I'm not sure I want to call them "Baptist" or a "church."

What would you do if the Westboro people showed up at your school (or workplace or church or party or neighborhood)?

I'm tempted to counter-protest, to pick a fight, to make a scene.
I'm tempted to flood the airwaves, steal traffic and divert attention.
I'm tempted to overwhelm them with love and kindness.
I'm tempted to convert, infiltrate their organization and do something incomprehensible.

But then I imagine Jesus' response to them and get confused. He did all of these things.

He made a whip and drove out the moneychangers.
He drew the crowds away from the religious hypocrites.
He healed and forgave and protected.
He died on the cross and rose from a grave.

And I realize that I can't do all of these things. Not all at once, at least.

So, what should I do? What should we do?

4 Challenges to Biblical Inerrancy

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 04:10:00 +0000

As I mentioned in yesterday's post (Understanding the Other Side), I had the opportunity recently to play Devil's Advocate in a debate about biblical inerrancy.

Biblical inerrancy is a tough topic to pin down. When I think about it, I think about the idea that Bible is true and trustworthy, accurate and reliable, perfect and authoritative. I think this a great doctrine. So, how would you attack it?

Here are the four best arguments I could find to represent the anti-inerrancy side ...

Contradictions

The Bible is full of apparent, on-the-face contradictions.

What is Jesus' genealogy? Did Jesus feed 4,000 or 5,000 or both? How many angels were at Jesus' tomb? What were Jesus' last words? Google "bible contradictions" and you'll find a lot of people who excel at close reading and need new hobbies.

Contradictions seem to undermine claims that the Bible is perfect. Sure, we can still trust the Bible even if it has some imperfections, but where does this leave inerrancy?

Incoherence

The story of the Bible unravels and unfolds turn by turn. We learn more and more about God and his ways as the story unfolds. Some laws pass away (yay cheesburgers!). Some practices pass away (sacrifices for ex.). Some institutions pass away (temples and Levites).

And this raises the question: "what does it mean to say that the whole Bible is inerrant?" There are parts of it that we can learn from, but shouldn't obey. There are parts that are outright lies and errors (see Job's friends' speeches). For generations people have talked about "a canon within the canon," prioritizing some scriptures above others. But where does this leave inerrancy?

Process

The Bible you read today didn't descend from heaven and it wasn't mined from the earth. It came to us through a long and convoluted process. This process involves transcription, transmission, canonization and (for us non-Greek-readers) translation.

Most tight definitions of inerrancy hold that the Bible was only perfect in autograph form (ie. only the first edition was perfect). After that, errors creep in. As do biases. Where does this leave inerrancy?

Authority

The last challenge has to do with the locus of authority. Is the Bible your authority or someone else? Most evangelicals would say that the Bible is the ultimate authority (sola scriptura). Inerrancy protects our capacity to trust the authority of the Bible.

But where did we get the Bible? And how do we read it?

The reality is that the early, proto-orthodox church decided on the contents of the Christian Bible (for more on this, see The Canon of Scripture by FF Bruce). And we bring our community with us when we read the Bible (try to read Romans without hearing a Luther track laid over Paul). The fingerprints of men are all over the Bible.

Where does this leave inerrancy?

Can you think of other significant challenges to biblical inerrancy?

Understanding the other side

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 03:52:00 +0000

This past week, we had a debate at FIU MMC about biblical inerrancy. The concept of inerrancy revolves around whether or not the Bible is true and trustworthy, accurate and reliable, perfect and authoritative.

As a Staffworker with InterVarsity I regularly affirm:

The unique divine inspiration,
entire trustworthiness
and authority of the Bible.

I believe in biblical inerrancy, as do all of our leaders. But, for the purposes of the debate, we needed to find someone (on short notice) who could represent the other side.

So, I stepped up.

I presented a 30 minute argument, answered questions and did my best to represent the a theological position that I don't hold.

Have you ever tried to do that, to represent the other side?

As I prepared, I found myself struggling to empathize with the other side. All of their arguments seemed easy to unravel. They lacked nuance or a complete picture of the facts.

Often, discourse stops that this point. We assume the other side are all pinheads. We assume they are idiots or jerks or fools. We listen to people who affirm our views and affirm our views until we can't understand how anyone can disagree with us.

Look at politics or theology. You'll see distinct communities ... tribes ... who gather and amplify each other's beliefs. Amplification in the echo chamber can be great (or horrible). And it often comes at the cost of empathy and understanding.

What do you do to help yourself better understand the other side?

A Psalm for the South Florida Area

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 03:59:00 +0000

This was scribbled in my journal as a reflection exercise as part of my day-long retreat on Monday. It's based off of Psalm 103, a psalm reflecting on God's past goodness and grace.

Praise the Lord, O my soul;

all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits -

who unites us to himself

and removes all our rebellion,

who holds us together when we're out of control

and keeps us from collapsing,

who does the work despite our inadequacy

so that our youth is not spent in vain.

The Lord sees and cares about the unseen and unregarded and unreached.

He guided Doug Stewart as he drove up and down the coast,

planting seeds of ministry that waited decades to sprout.

The Lord is compassionate and gracious,

slow to give up and abounding in creative generosity.

He will not always accuse,

nor will he abandon our Area forever;

he does not treat us as our sins deserve

or repay us according to our selfish past.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

so great is his love for our ministry teams.

As far as the East is from the West,

so far has he removed our disobedient strategies from us.

As a father has compassion on his children,

so the Lord has compassion on the students who long for revival on their campuses;

for he knows how we were formed,

he remembers our limited capacity.

As for our Staff, our days are like grass,

we flourish in ministry for a season;

our call or our funding shifts

and our chapters soon forget us.

But from everlasting to everlasting,

the Lord's love is with our students

and his righteousness with the generations that follow,

with those who follow his calling

and remember his love, grace and truth.

The Lord has established his throne in heaven

and his kingdom extends to every campus.

Praise the Lord, you Christian faculty

you wise ones who love his truth,

who love students for his sake.

Praise the Lord, all you Staff,

you beautiful servants who do his will.

Praise the Lord, every campus,

everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the Lord, O my soul.

Have you ever tried re-writing a Psalm to help you reflect and express yourself to God? Try it out!

Out of Rhythm

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 16:29:00 +0000

The "holidays" throw us out of rhythm.

We tend to operate on a weekly and daily rhythms. Every week has a rhythm: church, football, work, work, work, football, etc ... And every day has a rhythm: alone time, God time, work, family time, tv time, sleep.

But during the holidays ... no rhythm. Every day looks different. Every week looks different.

Seasons of disturbed rhythm can be very helpful:

They can release us from areas of unhealth in our regular rhythms
They can re-energize us
They can allow us to work on short projects
They can help us focus on what really matters

For example, over the last week, I've spent a lot more time with Amy and Will. I've read quite a bit, spent a lot of time in prayer and have listened to a lot of podcasts (Amy, Will and both of the dogs sleep in the car). It's been a good time ... out of rhythm.

But now I'm getting back into a rhythm, even if only for the few weeks before Christmas.

And as I do, I find myself paying careful attention to the things that make it into my new rhythm. Moments of rhythm-construction provide us with windows into the condition of our souls.

The rhythm I'm constructing this week (and for the next) is full of frantic work.
The rhythm I'm constructing this week has no space for exercise.
The rhythm I'm constructing this week has little space for God or my family.
This feels problematic.

But the problem isn't the new rhythm. That's temporary and easily fixed. It's a small task to rearrange your schedule. But what if our rhythms reflect realities that exist in our hearts?

"Why am I constructing this particular rhythm?" This is a question that we can all ask during times of transition, creating space for insight and reflection. Use the turmoil around the holidays to take a peek at your heart. What's going on in there? You can tell a lot by the rhythms you create.

What do you notice about the rhythm you're creating in this space between Thanksgiving and Christmas?

The Oppression of the Fair

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Fair is fine as long as we're just going for a ride

Many of us hold fairness in high esteem.

But what does "fairness" look like?

Fairness frequently means that everyone gets treated exactly the same. Equal pay. Equal portions. Equal time and attention.

In a fair world we are judged on our merits. This can be a motivating force. Work hard and, in a fair world, you will be rewarded. Treat people fairly and, in a fair world, you will be respected.

You could make an argument that fairness makes the world go around.

But fairness can also become oppressive.

Out of a desire for fairness, we race to the bottom. We refuse to do good because we can't do it for everyone. We treat everyone fairly, but no one well.

And, out of a desire for fairness, we focus on our rights, what we deserve and want, what we've earned and what everyone else is getting. This focus blinds us to what we have, robs us of gratitude.

And, out of a desire for fairness, we ignore people's differences. We miss out on the good and beautiful gifts diverse communities have to offer. We treat everyone fairly, but long for something more.

We all, secretly, when pushed, desire more than fair treatment. Friendship. Love. Grace. These are all unfair ... and beautiful.

Instead of fairness, we should pursue generosity, goodness, godliness and gratitude. After all, isn't this what God, through Christ, has given us?

Where have you seen fairness fail to satisfy?

Photo courtesy of Morguefile.com and penywise

Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 13:00:00 +0000

What do you have to be grateful for this Thanksgiving?

Overwhelmed

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 13:00:00 +0000

How do you feel when God calls you to do something huge?

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Unfair

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 13:00:00 +0000

What could be better than fairness?

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Naturally Disappointed

noreply@blogger.com (Steve) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Have you ever been disappointed by someone who didn't know your expectations?

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