Another year has ended. It’s time to name the best books of 2012. As I’ve said again and again, choosing early on to read for spiritual growth was one of the best habits I’ve ever formed. I hope one of the books I mention here tempts you to read for spiritual growth also.

I make a point of reading 4 types of books – devotional, ministry, theology, and leadership. These books shape my heart, skills, mind, and influence, respectively. Alright, let’s jump to the fun part…

My Favorite Reads of 2012 –

My Devotional Pick:

Love Does by Bob Goff

This is a memoir of sorts. Weaving together life experiences and lessons learned, Bob Goff proves to be a master storyteller. This book is hilarious but you’ll walk away with a desire for a faith that’s bigger, bolder, and way more fun. You’ll love it, I promise.

We need to stop plotting the course and instead just land the plane on our plans to make a difference by getting to the “do” part of faith. That’s because love is never stationary. In the end, love doesn’t just keep thinking about it or keep planning for it. Simply put: love does.

My Ministry Pick:

Deep and Wide by Andy Stanley

This is a gutsy book. Picking it up, I expected to hear how Andy Stanley’s church got started and how their ministry model works. And he details both in great detail.

But I think that’s just a ruse. His real aim, I think, is to confront church leaders with the question of whether your church is really concerned about reaching unchurched people or not again and again and again. That’s where it gets gutsy. Consider this, for example:

If the primary thing bothering you about your church is that you lack the cool factor and therefore young families don’t stick, you’ve got some work to do. If your sudden compulsion to change is fueled by your board’s observation that people are leaving your church to attend the contemporary church down the street, that’s not enough. If your burden isn’t any deeper than a desire to update and upgrade so people won’t leave, you’re better off babysitting the previous generation’s model.

Reading this 2 years after launching ClearView reaffirms the value of doing church in a different way and gives us some good next steps. If it had been around several years ago, who knows, we might have pulled the trigger even sooner.

My Theology Pick:

Making the Best of It by John Stackhouse

While my other picks are just published, this one came out back in 2008. I finally got around to reading it in preparation for a series about politics. Six months before the election, I taught for a few weeks about how politicized (i.e. obsessed with and polarized by politics) life has become and how to remain Jesus people in a political culture.

My hope was that the series would increase thoughtfulness about political engagement, enable respect for those with whom you or I disagree, and remind us that our hope is in Jesus and his kingdom.

If that sounds like a minefield, you are quite correct. After sweating many bullets, the series came together to very good effect. All that said, no book was more helpful to me than this one by cultural theologian John Stackhouse. Asking the question, “Who are we to be for Jesus Christ today?” Stackhouse reminds us that our choices make a real difference.

We have faith in the God of paradoxes who, on the jumbled landscape of our broken world, draws straight with crooked lines. We trust that the God who specializes in bringing good out of evil will make something beautiful out of our efforts to love him and our neighbors in creation.

My Leadership Pick:

The Advantage by Patrick Lencioni

This book explains why some organizations remain healthy while others are mired in dysfunction. While you and I know that churches never struggle with dysfunction (wink, wink) you may find this useful nonetheless.

The part I appreciated the most, and have used with my leadership team, is his list of six questions that must be answered to create clarity within a team, church, business, or organization. They’re so simple you’ll be amazed how hard it is to answer them succinctly – Why do we exist? How do we behave? What do we do? How will we succeed? What is most important, right now? and Who must do what?

Alignment is about creating so much clarity that there is as little room as possible for confusion, disorder, and infighting to set in.

Ok, those are my picks. I’d love to hear what you’ve enjoyed lately, or what you’re diving into next!
 

I am inconsistent.

Sometimes I do really well. Sometimes I don’t.

For example, this blog. I intend to write content every week. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes it doesn’t. For several weeks. In a row. To the point I’m a bit embarrassed to start again.

But this isn’t about writing. In every part of my life I’m inconsistent. Sometimes I’m really present for those I care about. Sometimes I’m distracted and oblivious. Sometimes I do the things that help me feel close to God. Sometimes I don’t.

And sometimes, I just get addicted to saying “sometimes.”

I wonder if inconsistency is just part of the frailty of being human. According to Genesis, we’re equal parts eternal breath of God and humble dust of the earth. Maybe this is the dust part.

And here’s something curious I’ve noticed about being inconsistent – it means being consistently tempted to judge.

When I’m doing well, I am quite confident I’m a fantastic human being. But I’m not so sure about everyone else. When I’m not doing well, it’s the reverse – I feel like a failure while everyone else seems flawless in comparison.

Arrogance and insecurity seem opposite, but I’ve found them again and again to be seat-mates riding in my heart. They may take turns driving, but they’ve conspired together.

And what is the conspiracy? To convince me that my perception of my performance equals God’s perception of my worth. That’s the battle within and once it’s lost it matters little whether arrogance or insecurity pops up first. The other one will be along shortly. Because I’m inconsistent, the consistent temptation is to equate performance with worth.

The Bible’s singular response is this – God is love. There are many words used to describe God but only this one to define Him. He is love. Love is not a trait that he possesses – sometimes more, sometimes less – it is his essence. There is a heartbeat of eternity, and it pulses “You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.”

Our worth isn’t like a stock that rises and falls according to last quarter’s performance analysis. No, it is fixed, determined solely by the one who loves underperformers and overacheivers alike. You could say that God is like a Father who has two sons. One, motivated by insecurity, worked furiously for approval and the other, in arrogant defiance, took his inheritance and ran. But of course, Jesus has said that.

Perhaps the most powerful story ever told, the point still moves me – I am inconsistent. God is love.

Included among this years’s 100 Most Influential People according to Time Magazine is a Serbian tennis player named Novak Djokovic. Djokovic started the 2011 season by winning 41 matches in a row. Since then he’s taken home the trophy from 4 of the last 5 grand slam tournaments and earned the #1 ranking in the world.

Impressive? You bet. But that’s not why he made the list.

Instead he made the list because, as they put it, for the four years prior to all of this, “he was the sport’s top doormat. First Roger Federer and then Rafa Nadal would regularly wipe their feet on him en route to major titles; nine times they stomped him in Grand Slam events.”

Since 2007 Djokovic was the clear #3 player in the world, but few imagined him rising any higher. Watching him, you’d think, “He’s good. It’s a shame he’s peaking at the same time as Federer and Nadal.” Folks would debate which of those two would go down as the greatest of all time, and there was no sign that Djokovic would ever be able to match Federer’s mental toughness or Nadal’s physical toughness, much less both.

Imagine how frustrating it would be to lose to those guys over and over. Imagine how naturally cynicism could creep in. And imagine how easy it would be to settle – after all, being #3 in the world is still a pretty sweet living.

But Djokovic never resigned to his fate. Instead he had a sense of humor about it. He kept training, kept improving, kept fiddling with his technique, his diet, his fitness. And now it’s Federer and Nadal that have to figure out how to improve.

There’s a great lesson in this for those among us who struggle with perfectionism or worry how others will perceive us:

How do you come to be really good at something? 

By allowing yourself to be not good at it for a long time.

For a personal example, preaching is something I’m enjoying a lot right now and seeing a lot of fruit from. I’m not the Djokovic of preaching, but I’m miles from where I started. Why? Lots of practice. Almost every Sunday for the last seven and half years. Whether I felt like it or not. In other words, how did I become a good preacher? By being a not-so-great-preacher for years.

My real point is this – I’m not sure there’s any other way. It’s trial and error. And I think that’s likely true about a lot of meaningful vocations, habits, and pursuits. Ask anyone who’s learned to dance or play an instrument or lead an organization.

And it makes me rethink some of the spiritual advice I might otherwise dish out to folks who say they’re no good at prayer, or Bible-reading, or generosity, or hospitality, or slowing down for a day of Sabbath.

Perhaps, instead of saying, “I’m sure you’re better than you think,” or “We have an upcoming class you may find helpful,” what I should say is:

“I’m sure that’s true. And it’s likely to be true for a while. A few times in your life you may stumble across something for which you’re just preternaturally gifted, but most of the important things in life are learned slowly and awkwardly in fits and starts. What would help you feel better about not being better for a while?”

Because if it’s true that the only way to get good is to experiment, risk, and fail (i.e. to be not good en route), then that’s the question, “Are we okay with not being okay for a while?”

Often we’re not. We’re afraid of embarrassing ourselves, we grow impatient, or we just resign to how things are. Djokovic, however, is another story, and here’s hoping that in that regard he is “most influential” indeed.

“I want two things that are mutually opposed – I want to live a nice little life, and I want to play an important role in God’s kingdom.” – John Eldredge

This lent season I’ve had two quotes stuck in my head, and this is the first. It’s so honest and so… me.

I want to love and serve God with all my heart, soul, and strength AND I want everything to go my way, nothing to change for the worse, and everyone to love me.

I’d be happy to write God in as a supporting role in my story, but that’s not his offer. No, to be a disciple is to give up being a master. Those who make a difference in God’s story are those who know – deeply know – that it’s his story. Those who advance God’s kingdom are those who’ve surrendered their own.

But it’s always partial, isn’t it? We raise the white flag one moment and take it back down the next. We thank God for his counsel one instant only to offer a “Yeah, but…” the next. We confess Jesus as Lord one minute before we take him aside and give him that strong rebuke he needs. (Surely you don’t think Peter’s the only one to try that!)

So that’s the first quote, an admission about how conflicted we all are.

“For even the son of man did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” - Jesus, Mark 10:45.

And this is the second. It’s the final word in a whole section where Jesus’ determination to face death willingly has been messing with his disciples’ determination to be – in contemporary lingo – famous.

They can’t quite shake the images of “Messiah” that they had in their heads before Jesus. The messiah was supposed to come and conquer and reign. To be a close follower of that messiah would be a sweet gig indeed. It would mean authority and notoriety. It would mean more blessing than sacrifice. It would mean a nice little life.

They just can’t get Jesus to understand.

Mark 10:45 is the end of it. Essentially, “No more of this thinking. You’re following me and that’s not where I’m heading.” In fact, just a handful of verses later Jesus is heading into Jerusalem to face his death. He’s determined, whether his disciples get it or not.

“I didn’t come to be served but to serve, to give my life.”

“I’m not here for the good life.”

“I’m not here for myself. Not at all.”

Who says that? Who is that unequivocal about their life’s path? That complete in their devotion? That selfless in their surrender?

You and I, we want two things mutually opposed. Jesus, he only wanted one. May his name be lifted up forevermore.

Joe passed away in January. He and his wife were in the 6th decade of their marriage, and in that decade, they had begun a tradition of driving to Branson, Missouri once or twice a year to hear a particular singer perform. All the way there – about 7 hours – they’d play her albums. Once there, her show was always the highlight of their trip. And all the way back – you guessed it – they’d listen to the albums again, noting the songs they’d heard live.

Here’s my favorite part: I don’t think Joe liked the singer. Whenever he would talk about their trips, he’d talk about how much his wife loved the singer, how much she looked forward to the trips, and how much she loved listening to the albums again and again.

I have a friend who’s started an amazing web project, Can you define love? Hundreds of people – folks of all ages, backgrounds, and beliefs – have submitted a statement, image, or video that defines love to them. As you might expect, they’re all over the place:

From the clinical…

To the spiritual…

To the awesomely clever.

So, can you define love?

You better.

See, sometimes love is mysterious. It’s abstract and hard to pin down. You feel it, just because you feel it. It’s mushy and surprising and makes your face turn red. And all of that is wonderful.

But deep, lasting love is also incredibly concrete. Particular. Specific. You know it the second you see it because it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice.

Sometimes love is a trip to Branson.

When I met Felton and his wife they were both in their nineties. They’d been married 70+ years. And as long as anyone could remember (including them!), each morning Felton drove to McDonalds and ordered an Egg McMuffin, brought it home, and cut it in half so they could both have breakfast without his wife having to cook.

Sometimes love is half an Egg McMuffin.

A college friend just downgraded to a cheaper cell phone plan and an older phone. This is one of many small sacrifices he’s making so that when his kids, toddlers now, graduate high school, there will be money to send them to college.

Sometimes love is a really crappy cell phone.

Another friend has organized a small army of volunteers who go to laundromats around town once a month, offering to pay for everyone’s laundry. No agenda, just quarters and soap. (Find out more here)

Sometimes love is a clean basket of clothes.

Love takes on many forms, but that’s exactly the point – Love takes on forms. It doesn’t stay abstract and hypothetical for long. No, it oozes out of decisions small and large to make a real and visible difference in the world.

For those who know the story of the Bible, this makes perfect sense. One scripture puts it this way, “God is love… [and] we love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:8-19) In other words, we learn this “love” thing from God, and God didn’t leave his love in the realm of the hypothetical. No, he put it on display for the world to see. “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

Sometimes love is a cross.

Can you define love? You better, for whatever love is, it’s not hypothetical.
 

You know that one relative who asks you the same question at every family gathering?

Or that guy in the office who regurgitates what he heard on sports-radio all day, every day?

Or the friend you love, except when she tells that story for the millionth time?

Obnoxious, right?

How about this example then:

The person who seems to mention his or her faith more often than they blink.

You know this person too. Don’t pretend otherwise. (And if you are this person, please keep reading.) They are sometimes very sweet. They are almost always genuine. But they are a skipping record. It doesn’t matter what the conversation is actually about, they’re going to mention God. If it weren’t so regular a phenomenon, you might actually marvel at their passive-aggressive apologetical gymnastics.

Facebook status updates are often their preferred medium.

6:00 a.m. “This is the day that the Lord has made! Wake up and rejoice in it FB friends!”

8:13 a.m. “Traffic was awful this a.m., but it gave me even more time to pray in the car!”

9:30 a.m., in response to someone’s posting about the big game the night before, “We missed it b/c Bible study ran long. Missed you guys, by the way. Hope you can make it next week.”

10:15 a.m. “Thinking about the election. WWJV? What would Jesus vote?…”

Can I stop yet? Please?

I know a few of these well-intentioned folks. At times, I suspect I’ve been one of them. My aim is not to tear anyone down but to make a case for well-roundedness as a Christian virtue. First, by looking at Jesus’ own style of relating to others, second, by talking about our own relationships, and finally by re-imagining the Great Commission.

Jesus Didn’t Talk About Himself All the Time

We’re used to hearing Jesus’ words about himself. It’s what the teaching of the church has (for good reason) emphasized. Jesus said, “I am the Good Shepherd,” “I am the way, the truth and the life,” and “I am the light of the world,” among other self-referential comments. He spoke about himself because his identity (and therefore his role in God’s redemptive plans) was very much a topic of debate in the towns and villages where he ministered.

But notice also how often he doesn’t speak of himself, how often he opens the conversation in another way, and how often he chooses silence or story over direct response. More than that, notice how, with very rare exceptions, he blends into his surroundings.

When he’s around fishermen, he talks about fish. When he’s sitting at a well, he talks about water. When he’s at a wedding that’s running low on wine, he makes more wine. Jesus stood out when he wanted to, but he also knew how to blend in.

And just try to keep track of how many times he shared a meal with someone. From the rich and reputable to the needy and notorious, Jesus ate with everyone – to the point, in fact, that he risked being labeled a glutton and a drunkard (Matthew 11:18-19)! Want to guess what he did during all those meals? He talked. About normal stuff. Stuff that made those around him feel comfortable, accepted, and loved.

Jesus, on closer inspection, was remarkably well-rounded. Regardless of the setting, regardless of the company, Jesus knew how to be one of the guys, and, except for those occasions where he very intentionally made a scene, he was happy to just fit in.

Not Everything Starts with ‘V’

Remember the episode of Friends where Joey, who always felt dumber than the rest of the gang, met the encyclopedia salesman? He didn’t have the cash to buy a whole set, so he just bought “V.” The rest of the episode, no matter what the topic of conversation, Joey kept trying to bring it back around to volcanos, vulcanized rubber, or something else he had learned from his solitary volume.

The humor, of course, is the absurdity of his attempt. “V” is a great letter, no doubt, but not everything begins with “V.” And trying to make it otherwise is sure to turn a great conversation into a silly, odd scene.

Likewise, not everything is about Jesus. I know, that sounds horrible, but it’s true. If you walk up on a conversation about a football game. You don’t have to talk about Jesus (or even Tim Tebow!). You can just talk about football. If Jesus had interests, we can too.

Trying to twist and contort every social interaction into a witnessing opportunity is just odd. Instead of turning others’ attention to spiritual things, it actually inoculates them, giving them a picture of Christians as one-dimensional pitchmen.

Instead of babbling on and on about spiritual things, let’s learn to listen. Let’s learn to NOT change the topic. Let’s learn to hold our answers until the questions are asked. After all, whoever claims to live in Christ, must do as he did (1 John 2:6).

As You Go…

The way most English Bibles translate the Great Commission (Matt 28:19-20), it sounds like Jesus commands us to do two things: to go and to make disciples. In fact, only the latter of those is in the imperative. “Go” is a participle that could just as well be translated, “As you go, make disciples…”

It’s a small point, I know, but one that I think could help us to re-imagine sharing our faith, not as something that we have to awkwardly force on others but as something that just naturally happens as part of our normal goings-on. As we lean into our friendships, as we experience all the same ups and downs as everyone else, and as we talk about topics from A-Z, there are plenty of natural opportunities for us to mention our faith and plant seeds. There are also plenty of moments where squeezing in a reference to one’s faith would be as unnatural as bringing up viticulture, ventriloquism, or vultures.

It’s Okay To Be More than ‘Just a Christian”

I grew up in a church that emphasized being a Christian, no more no less. It feels a bit odd to be advocating anything else, but I am. I am advocating that we be well-rounded Christians. Folks who can talk capably about spiritual things but also carry on conversations about sports, art, film, business, politics, weather, family, and a dozen other things.

If non-believers can brand you and cast you aside as a religious weirdo, they will. So be a Christian, but also show them you’re a mom or dad, husband or wife, sports fan, moviegoer, biker, musician, or video-gamer… See, when the list is well-rounded, some things do begin with “V.”

I found this article, written by one of my former grad school professors, both interesting and helpful in sorting out all of the Tebow love/hate going around. As I’ve said before, when we think about God’s involvement in the world, there are two extremes to avoid.

The first sees God as the cause of everything…EVERYthing. As in, “God just completed Tebow’s pass!” It seems to me that this is the view non-Christians, with good reason, find so troubling (“Why does God find time to help famous Christians complete passes and get good parking spots when he can’t find the time to cure cancer or keep children from going hungry?” they ask.)

The second sees God as completely divorced from the world and its goings on. This is a god who might be acknowledged, but never loved, a cosmic, absentee landlord. This one is the more subtle of the two, but you hear it in statements that begin “God doesn’t care about…”

Somewhere between those two extremes there’s an understanding of God as intimately involved in the events of our lives but not hijacked for our personal agendas. I’ll stop there and just point you to the link. John Mark Hicks has done a lot of thinking about God’s role in our successes, our pains, and everything in between. He’s a faithful guide in this quick article.

Didn’t get what you wanted for Christmas? Buy yourself a good book!

As you start the new year, I hope one of your goals will be to pick up a book that draws you closer to God. Few things have shaped me as much as my habit of devotional reading, so I find myself constantly suggesting books to others as they’re wrestling with a certain question or struggle. That gave birth to the idea of a favorite reads list a year ago.

Just like last year, I’ve got some good ones to mention. I tried to stay with the same categories – devotional, ministry, theology, and leadership – but, honestly, I didn’t read any ministry books that blew me away in 2011, so I’m skipping that one and recommending two books in the devotional category instead.

Here they are, My Favorite Reads of 2011.

My Devotional Picks:

Beautiful Outlaw by John Eldredge and King’s Cross by Tim Keller

My teaching at ClearView has been pretty topical this fall, and I’m craving the chance to do an extended series on Jesus this spring. In part, my hunger to know and help others know Jesus has been reawakened by these two books which focus on his life.

Eldredge’s book, Beautiful Outlaw, has a laser-like focus. Ever notice how in some books the chapters seem independent of each other, and, while you might have several takeaways, there’s no singular, lasting impression made? This is not that.

Each chapter shares the same aim – to illuminate Jesus. To show us who he was and is. To show us the Jesus we can know today, free of religious baggage or branding. Why shine the spotlight on Jesus? As Eldredge says,

“Loving Jesus will not be a problem when you know him as he truly is.”

You may have already encountered Eldredge’s writings about spirituality and masculinity, but the uniqueness of this book is its tight focus on Jesus’ life. He does a great job revealing Jesus’ personality and likability as he walks through story after story from the four gospels.

If Eldredge’s book is a spotlight, consider King’s Cross by Tim Keller a map that situates Jesus’ life and teachings within both the narrative arc of the Bible and the first-century world in which he lived.

Section one builds to the conclusion that yes, Jesus is the long awaited King (Messiah). Section two explains why this King went to the cross. Thus, Keller is concerned with both Jesus’ identity and his redemptive purpose. For example,

“Christianity…is not a completely new thing. Jesus is the fulfillment of all the biblical prophets’ longings and visions, and he is the one who will come to rule and renew the entire universe.”

These two books, though quite different, both make you desire Jesus. Neither is perfect (though I think their strengths and weaknesses are complementary), but both are really, really helpful.

My Leadership Pick: 

The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Achor

I picked up this book, a synthesis of positive psychology research, on a whim. Next thing I know, I’ve ordered and read half a dozen books in that area.

If you’re not familiar, positive psychology is a relatively new academic interest that benefits not only from psychology but also new findings in neuroscience that show (a) it is possible to become happier, (b) we don’t have to guess anymore about what makes us happier, and (c) it’s worth it to pursue this happiness. As Achor puts it,

“It turns out that our brains are literally hardwired to perform at their best not when they are negative or even neutral, but when they are positive.”

I’ve heard way too many people give up on the possibility of transformation, saying things like “I’ll always be this way,” or “I can’t help my circumstances” and even “It’s just how God made me.” This book opens up a world of science that confirms what Scripture has always said about the possibility of change and the importance of the choices we make each day.

My Theology Pick:

Why? by Adam Hamilton

Say what you will about Adam Hamilton, the man is not afraid to ask and answer tough questions. In this book, he does a remarkable job handling three hugely difficult theological queries: Why do the innocent suffer? Why do my prayers go unanswered? and Why can’t I see God’s will for my life?

Oh, and he does it all in 98 pages.

That’s amazing. This book should encourage any Christ-follower, but could also benefit those for whom the “Why?” questions are an obstacle to belief. To the latter of those two groups, he says,

“Rejecting God doesn’t change the situation that has caused our suffering; it only removes the greatest source of hope, help, comfort, and strength we have.”

A clear, concise book on a difficult topic.

Surely one of these has piqued your interest! Leave a comment and let me know which one you’re likely to read or tell me what you think should be on my reading list next. As always, thanks!

You may know that the first story the Bible tells about humanity (after creation) involves a man, a woman, a serpent, and a piece of fruit. It would be merely a silly story if we couldn’t all relate to it so well. Eating a piece of fruit – could anything be more trivial?

But the brilliant storyteller behind Genesis 3 makes sure that we understand it’s about more than fruit. There’s a temptation behind the temptation.

Pride. Autonomy. Idolatry. Ego. Self Reliance.

It goes by many names, but it is the temptation behind every temptation. It’s a thought that runs something like this:

“Maybe life would be better if I go my own way.”

“Maybe happiness can be found apart from God. Maybe, instead of living as part of his story, I can write my own with Go din a supporting role.”

It didn’t work. It doesn’t work. God predicted, back in Genesis 3, that the path the man and woman were choosing would not lead to happiness but instead to conflict, pain and disappointment. Now, with millennia of history in the rear view mirror, we know his prediction to be true.

What we think will bring us lasting happiness cannot. Be it a purchase, a promotion, or a person, it will, sooner rather than later, crumble under the weight of our expectations. C.S. Lewis, in Mere Christianity, wrote that much of what we call history, “Money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery” is really the “long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.”

But there’s one more character in Genesis 3. Besides the man, the woman, and the serpent, there is God. For just a moment, put yourself in his shoes. He knows that there is no such thing as happiness apart from himself. Love, joy, peace, and all such things are not external and separate from him. They are fruits of his very spirit. They are integral and internal to God.

So, when these children of yours choose, whether in Genesis 3 or yesterday, to walk away and go their own way, your heart breaks and your options are few. Only two really.

You can abandon them. Leave them to the darkness and brokenness. It is, after all, the path they chose.

Or…

You can go to them once more. You can reach out, risking rejection once more, but it will be no small risk. Though the first pursuit was in a garden paradise, this second pursuit will be in a world of sin and agony and injustice, the kind of world that invents wooden crosses and crowns of thorns.

It is the riskiest of plans that God chose.

And that is the meaning of Christmas. When we chose our own path, one of darkness and brokenness, God was so committed to his relationship with us that he chose that path too. He reaches out to us, not only in a comfortable paradise but also in a world of hellish evil.

El Shaddai, God Almighty, preferred to be Immanuel, God with us. In temptation, we went our own way. In love he came for us. He is wonderful, isn’t He?

Merry Christmas.

Whenever a church planter/leader’s blog goes silent for a while, you can bet that things are either going really well or really poorly. In this case, thankfully, my unintended blogging break is evidence of things going really, really well.

Now, to get the ball rolling again, I’d like to share some of the lessons God’s taught us since ClearView Church launched. I wish I could say they’re original, never-before-thought nuggets of theological brilliance. Alas, they’re not. Maybe next year I’ll come up with something catchier – The Unicorn Principle, perhaps???

1. There are seasons.
Remember when you were a kid and you’d hit a growth spurt? You’d be the same height for a while, and then all of a sudden your shoe size would jump, then your arms and legs would seem to grow independent of the rest of your body, and then – and only then – the rest of your body would seem to clue in, stretching and filling out accordingly.

Growing isn’t smooth and it rarely seems coordinated, though of course it is. That’s how it is with growing a young church too. A more congenial metaphor is the idea that there are different seasons of growth. One week there aren’t any babies in the nursery. The next week there are 6. You can’t predict it, but you try your best to be ready in anticipation.

We’ve been through a season where only young singles seemed to be finding us. Then a season where no one was finding us. Then a season where families with kids, etc., etc., etc.

There are seasons where everyone who comes your way needs help, and you wonder if you can serve that many needs. And there are seasons where everyone who comes is looking to help, and you wonder if you’ve got enough spots for everyone to serve. It’s funny. The key is to remember that a season is only a season – enjoy it or survive it because tomorrow could be different.

2. Risk is a good thing.
Starting from scratch, there’s no alternative but to risk. So we’re trying to make it part of our DNA that we stay risky, that we lean toward faith, not sight.

Has everything we’ve tried been a homerun? No. But a lot have been, and the lesson in that is that not all mistakes are created equal. It’s far better to swing and miss than to not swing at all. (Unless your church thinks faith is overrated.)

This personal lesson led to the teaching series “Hey Buddy, It’s Green!”

3. Choose health over growth.
Growth is a result of health. If you’re pressuring folks into roles of service or leadership because you need to fill those roles in order to grow, you’re actually limiting, not facilitating, growth. Ministries, programs, and groups are helpful only if they’re venues of health. More than once we’ve slowed down or scaled back to make sure that those leading in a given area were doing so out of a place of spiritual health. Church members should think of their involvements as joys, not obligations.

4. You’re only as good as your relationships.
I don’t have anything profound to say here. It’s just true. You need good relationships among leaders, among church members, with guests, within small groups, with neighbors, with unchurched folks, and with other churches, non-profits and community groups.

5. God is good.
Something that’s often repeated in Scripture and around ClearView is this: “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures forever.”

I’m so grateful that in this first year, I’ve seen God’s goodness again and again. The more you see it, believe it, and hang on to it, the more you’ll trust, the more you’ll smile, and the more you’ll lean into relationships. This sounds lofty and nebulous, I know, but we’ve come to discover that it’s as practical as it gets.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve only got a year to figure out what unicorns have to do with church leadership.