Don't Call Me That

If you look at our website, brochure, business cards, etc, you will see that word behind my name.

Pastor.

Despite all the title-wrangling that's gone on with the emerging church movement, I think one title that has stayed fairly well intact is the word Pastor.

Assuming we even knew what it meant to begin with.

But a pastor is a shepherd, right? In Latin it's the same word. A pastor works in the pasture, shepherding sheep. Of course Jesus is the great high shepherd, or head shepherd, thus the Head Pastor. (Oops. We've been calling certain people "Head Pastor", haven't we?) But Paul and other apostles make it clear that God has designated some to lead in this shepherding kind of way, and we do so under the leadership of the Head Shepherd.

Yesterday I caught a clip of Hank Hanegraaff on the Bible Answer Man radio show, where he was talking about the importance of "protecting the pulpit." Maybe that's why pastors grip it so hard when their preaching gets emphatic... they're protecting it. I actually got images of bullet-proof mylar and security guards on either side, lest anyone should take a shot at the holy lectern. Would you take a bullet for the pulpit?

I'm not saying good ole' Hank is all wet. If you have been entrusted with the role to disseminate God's truth to the community of believers, people will tend to trust whom you trust as well. And that is implied when the pastor invites someone else to speak at the pulpit.

So in essence it's an issue of stewardship. But the problem is, there's something about that "protecting the pulpit" attitude that threatens to swing toward arrogance and vainglory. As if we all as believers are called to be miniature Christs, but pastors are the XL minis. And as in any case of security (think national security, especially if you're a Democrat,) it is easy to secure something so well that you strangle it. (Your neck is in danger, sir! Here, let me protect it snugly with my two hands! Tighter now...)

The truth is that there are many types of pastors. God knows every community of believers is different, and needs a different brand of leader. Some really do need a solid theological expert who can humbly but boldly lift the group to the next level of understanding. But to presume that this is the primary type, or worse, the only type, is foolish.

How do I know? For one, because God called me to do it. Yes, I know a few things, and I like to teach. But I am seriously unqualified to be the ordained protector of the sacred podium.

It is false images like that that spring to mind when people call me "Pastor".

Mark Driscoll, in his autobiographical book Confessions of a Reformission Rev, writes about an experience early on in his church-planting ministry, when a young man calls him in the middle of the night, distraught about his inability to give up masturbating. After Driscoll gives him some very crude, direct, and groggy advice, the young man says, "Alright. Thanks, Pastor Mark." Driscoll recalls this as the first time he was ever called Pastor, and it made an impact on him.

I get called Pastor sometimes, but I usually ask people not to. It may be the title on my card, but you don't hear people getting called "Sales Representative Tim", or "C.E.O. Warren".

I think God has called me to be the type of pastor that holds the pulpit loosely, that stands up for what God has given me, but also empowers the gifts of others. I think there's a lot of community to be had in the process of opening things up, and gently enabling the harmony of voices that God intended when he gave us such a beautiful array of gifts. And this is not necessarily the first thing people think of when they call me Pastor.

Just "Ryan" will be fine, thanks.

Fake China :: Fake Church

I have a friend who is about to travel to Beijing for the 2008 Olympics. One of her friends has a brother who is swimming for Tunisia, so she decided to come along for the ride.

Last night she was over at our house, telling us about some of the interesting steps the Chinese government is taking to make their capital city a world-class experience for these two weeks in August:

1) They are shutting down numerous factories for a period of time, with the hopes of drastically improving air quality. Imagine the let-down for those Beijing residents who discover what it's like to take a deep breath for two weeks, before going back to "normal".

2) They are banning cars from the road. For a three-month period, cars are restricted on alternate days, depending on their license plate numbers. My friend said they were banning cars completely during the Olympics, which may be true, but I haven't found support for that yet on the web.

3) She also said they'll be banning the internet, which is certainly something they'd like to do, but I can't prove that they've decided to do so, against the insistence the IOC.

In addition to those things, the Chinese government has prompted (to put it gently) its citizens to do many other things, such as: changing the names of its restaurant dishes (and remove dog meat from the menu), quit asking personal questions that might offend westerners, stop smoking, stop using fireworks, and the list goes on and on.

With all these expensive initiatives, it is not likely that China will make money on the Olympics. Chances are that they don't care... they see this simply as an extremely expensive public relations project, which will garner them First World status.

After mentioning all these bans, my friend lamented that she would just rather experience Chinese culture for what it really is. Of course the breathing will be nice, but she is sad for the lack of one very important thing: Authenticity.

We may laugh at the Chinese government's paranoid attempts at keeping, or saving, face. But there is something very human about it. In a bad way, that is.

The Church is a prime suspect of the same offense. The Church is polluted, it's noisy and messy. It has a beautiful culture, but is not without it's crazy jargon and undesirable characters. It's natural that we should want to mask all that ugliness. Otherwise, who would ever come?

But people can surprise you. Authenticity is a powerful thing, and people will put up with a lot to be in the presence of real honesty and transparency. It's scary to put yourself out there, and a lot of people really will turn away in disgust. But those are not the people you need around anyway.

And before you accuse the Church too sharply, do some navel-gazing of your own. What are you trying to hide? Put up your facade if you must; disbelieve it if you like, but most people would rather know the Real You.

The Church Is a Whore, and She Is My Mother

Augustine said it.

Every generation is prone to certain superlative assumptions about itself. We are always...

the most enlightened, most advanced, most creative, most civilized...

AND/OR

the most wicked, most degenerate, dumbest, laziest, voted-most-likely-to-usher-in-the-end-of-the-world generation in history.

So naturally it surprises us when we look back and see the same attitude in history. Is it possible that a 5th-century Bishop, prior even to the Dark Ages, could be as jaded against the church as our own breed of postmodern critics?

But yes, Augustine said it. "The Church is a whore, and she is my mother."

Last night at the Front Porch, I slipped into one of those conversations. Somebody mentioned the alleged $50,000 that a particular church happened to have spent on speakers for the youth center. Not a speaker system... not human speakers, just speaker cabinets. And one of our more idealogical Wednesday night regulars became, shall we say, livid.

"How... hm... HOW MANY LIVES DO YOU THINK COULD BE SAVED BY $50,000!?!"

Whether the statistic was correct or not was beside the point. The fact is that we Christians are famous for finding ways to collect large amounts of money, and spend it on something that many others deem utterly irrelevant.

I wonder what the underground Christians in China or Indonesia or the Sudan might think. These churches seem to be growing spiritually and numerically, under far-less-than-ideal conditions. Of course, it would not be original of me to point out the way Christianity tends to thrive under oppression.

Last night my wife and I were wondering out loud if American Christianity was headed in that direction. "Sometimes, in a very weird way," I said, "I actually long for that."

"You do???" She exclaimed.

"Well... sort of. I mean, it's a hard thing to say. But it's as if someone is out to destroy us either way. If we're being oppressed, others are destroying us physically. If we're being validated by society at large, we inevitably start destroying ourselves spiritually. Only, in the first instance we are drawing closer to God in our adversity, and in the latter, we're wandering away from him."

"I never thought of it that way," She said. "I think that's true."

In my other conversation, with the Front Porch idealogue, I seconded many of his concerns about the way we Christians use and abuse the gifts of God. But I also tried to convince him to give even the most suspect church the benefit of the doubt. The fact is, we don't always (and actually we hardly ever) fully understand the underlying motives, and the heart behind the decisions that are being made in other churches.

"I actually know people in that church who really have an earnest heart after God," I said.

"But do you know someone in leadership?" the idealogue demanded.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He gasped. You might think he was being over-dramatic. I might think you'd be right.

"Or was, anyway," I continued. "He was in leadership. If you're right about this church, and that it needs change so badly, I believe he would have been one of the people there longing to bring it about. But he's not there anymore. Maybe he gave up. I haven't talked to him about it."

"Well... yes... maybe," he stammered.

There is so much to hate about what they've become. What we've become. Reminiscent of Rahab, or Gomer, or Israel at large, we have been unfaithful. We've forgotten our first love, and chased after everything else that moves, looking for what we've already found, but lost. The Church has become, by definition, a whore. With a long and proud tradition of corruption and, well... pride.

But she is ours. She is us. She is the true body of Christ that stands by his power and grace despite so many stumblings.

She is our mother.

The Count

It's not about the numbers. It never has been.

Of course, if you follow this blog at all, you know that already. But saying it is a whole lot easier than meaning it.

I made a commitment last year to never count people unless there was an important practical reason. Estimations are less dangerous, but still suspect.

But it turns out that so much of the survival of The Core has come to hinge on that dreadful phrase: "Sunday Morning Attendance." The more people come, the more viable and successful it will seem to those who are there. This was proven to me over the past two weeks.

Last Sunday we had our first Second Sunday Artist Spotlight, and we featured artist Jon Stanton. Prior to that our highest attendance had been roughly 25. But this time it was closer to 40 (although, in keeping with our philosophy, nobody actually counted.)

I thought to myself, "OK... that was fun. Very encouraging. Some friends and family of the artist showed up to boost the showing a bit. Now let's see what happens next week." And what happened (this morning) was... the same thing. Without the boost.

They say success begets success. That when people see something work, or they see it well attended, that their perception of it improves automatically. I've experienced this firsthand. One young lady came several months ago on a Sunday morning, and seemed to really appreciate what she experienced, although there were not many more than a dozen in attendance. She came again last Sunday, and expressed her surprise at the number of people. "I really liked it the first time I came," she said, "but I was a little worried because there were, like, only eight people there or so." But when she came the second time and saw the place mostly full, it made a different impression entirely. I guess it's mob psychology in a way... "If this many people like it, it must be good."

So now I feel like it's a whole new ballgame. It definitely feels different with 3 or 4 dozen than with only 1 dozen. We need more brunch food. The sound system becomes more important. Some people are forced to sit towards the front. Plus there's just an energy to it that doesn't exist otherwise.

Believe me... I'm as much a fan of smallness as I ever was. But when it became apparent that The Core was going to have to survive (financially) primarily by its own devices, I started to realize how important it would be to build a self-sustaining fellowship, and that that body would have to be a certain size to be viable.

From where I sit, it looks like that's exactly what God is doing, although you never can tell for sure. Each week belongs to him... it's his call whether we're supposed to have 9 or 90 next week.

Although if you want to know my preference... I hope it's somewhere in between.

Deuce: Leadership vs. Community

There is a post-modern tension in the church when people look at community on the one hand and leadership on the other. It's like watching people watch a tennis match. They look back and forth, and begin to be troubled by the seeming necessity to pick one and abandon the other.

Community is fluid. It is mutual submission and love. It is not controlling or power hungry. It is spontaneous and organic and beautiful.

Leadership is structured. It is wisdom and responsibility. It is not fearful or timid. It is intentional and heirarchical and beautiful.

Quite a quandary, indeed... so long as we're trying to line up organic community with hierarchical leadership onto the same plane--that of relationships.

But Community and Leadership do not belong on the same plane. Community is indeed a function of relationships. God has called us all to submit to one another in love. Husbands to wives, wives to husbands, pastors to parishioners and parishioners to pastors. They will know we are Christians by our love for one another. And this commandment of love does not shift and change with positions, promotions and power. It is an interconnected web of equality.

So what about Leadership? The fact is that leadership does not belong on the plane of Relationships, it belongs on the plane of Objectives. Tasks. Roles.

Becoming a leader should not change the nature of your relationship to others. It should change the nature of your relationship to the task at hand. Naturally, that will affect the context of your relationships to others, but not the nature of them, which is love and mutual submission.

There is no leadership position which mandates, or permits, controlling others. And there is certainly no rationale for abuse or power-mongering.

I can sense some of your misgivings, and I'll address them here:

Guidance - Since Jesus is the true shepherd, and we are his sheep, we are called to follow him alone. Paul says that no one should identify themselves as followers of this person or that person... only Christ. So be a guide to others is, once again, a responsibility to represent the guidance of Christ, and not to be controllers of others.

Discipline - Similar to guidance. When someone in a church requires discipline, the leader's responsibility is on the plane of infraction and correction. When the leader and the wayward member can come together on that plane to each exercise their own roles (the leader to administer discipline, and the member to receive it graciously) then they have behaved as equals in Christ.

Can you see how this frees us up to accept our God-given roles without becoming arrogant, or resentful, toward one another? We can rejoice in the fluidity of community and the structure of leadership without constantly being pulled back and forth.

Now the trick is... doing it.

One-ity

I have been fantasizing lately about founding a network of churches for one simple reason: the unity that Jesus prayed for in John 17:21-26. I'm going to do a little dreaming out loud here about what such a network might look like.

First of all, I can't imagine moving on this for at least a year. I've got to get my own two feet underneath me first, as pastor of The Core. Nevertheless, I can't get this off my mind, so I'm going to throw out a few ideas, and let you respond to them, either positively or negatively.

"One In Christ" Network (needs a better name)

1. It will not be a denomination, as evidenced by the following:
a. Other memberships will be permitted, and not monitored whatsoever
b. It will not attempt to be set apart from other groups by a unique doctrine, except to be known for its commitment to the unity of those who follow Christ, and subscribe to basic, historic, orthodox Christian beliefs.
c. It will seek to connect and "network" Christians and churches together, rather than divide or control them.

2. Member churches will agree to the following beliefs:
a. The 66 books of the Bible are completely true and reliable, designed to govern us, and not be governed by us.
b. God is all-powerful, sovereign, and triune, in the form of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit
c. Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and our only means of reconciliation to God by his death on the cross and resurrection from the dead.
d. Although we cannot earn our own salvation through works, we are called to a life of righteousness and a heart of obedience, as prescribed in Scripture.
e. God himself is the owner of all truth, and calls us to develop our theologies with the utmost humility, always listening respectfully to the perspectives of others, and never belittling our ridiculing our brothers and sisters.

3. Member churches will be characterized by the following values:
a. a recognition that all Christians are indeed ONE as we are found IN CHRIST.
b. a commitment to actively love and pray for others, regardless of their beliefs.
c. a latitude in regards to secondary doctrines, realizing that the most important concepts of Scripture are marked by clarity, and secondary concepts are often marked by ambiguity, leaving room for honest, intelligent Christ-followers to disagree.
d. a desire to seek out partnerships and collaborative opportunities with those from differing Christian traditions
e. a rejection of all divisive actions and attitudes (with an understanding of the difference between divisiveness and mere division.)

4. The Network will be characterized by the following initiatives:
a. conferences, workshops and gatherings to promote unity and inter-denominational reconciliation.
b. support for new churches who wish to minister missionally and non-denominationally.
c. mediation in specific circumstances of denominational antagonism.
d. ecumenical projects to care for the poor and needy.
e. general work to represent Christianity to the world as a body unified in Christ.

That's all I can think of for now... what do you think? Is this something Christianity needs? And is it feasible?

Fortress Maximus and the Marching Band

Last night's QAF Session was my favorite so far.

There was me, Steve, Tim, Latisha, Lindsey, Jarred, TJ, Tabitha, Jason, Snow, and Mik. And everybody contributed in some fashion.

Towards the end, I wanted to talk about my passion for following Jesus, and how it's not something that can be done in solitude. That's when an unusual metaphor entered my mind.

I don't know if you're too young, or too old, to have ever played with Transformers, but I loved them as a kid. The action figures were essentially robots that, if you cranked their torsos, or flipped their heads, etc, etc, they would become cars or planes or dinosaurs. The ultimate Transformer was a massive guy that was constructed by assembling six different Transformers together: one for each leg, one for each arm, and one for the head and one for the torso. First you had to own all six toys, and even then it took some work to get them all put together just right. And once you did, you had... FORTRESS MAXIMUS.

You could definitely have fun with each of the six individual Transformers. They were great toys. But you couldn't play with one for long without wanting to put it together with the other five and create the Ultimate Toy that was freakin' two-and-a-half feet tall.

I am not a kid asking for more toys for Christmas just so I can have more toys. I am the leg of Fortress Maximus, and I'm just trying to collect them all, to be part of the finished product.

Fast-forwarding a bit, to my high school years, imagine me in a green-and-gold marching band uniform. (As long as we're imagining, let's say that it made me look dashing and sophisticated.) I played the saxophone, which is a great instrument. You can stand out on the sidewalk and play whatever, and people will throw money in your case. I did it for the Salvation Army once (though there was a kettle instead of a case) and I played Christmas songs in front of the Front Porch long before it opened, last December.

Playing the saxophone by yourself is fun. But a part of you always wants to put it together with something else.... with piano and drums to make a jazz combo, or three other saxophones to make a sax quartet. Or... 250 instruments of all kinds to make a Marching Band.

My high school marching band was just that big, too. HUGE. Sometimes we would take half an hour to enter a stadium for a marching band competition in a single file line, just to intimidate the other bands by our sheer size. (Wow... was that really as dorky as it sounds to me now?)

But size wasn't really the point. The point is to get together some people who know how to play the saxophone, with some who can play the trumpet, the trombone, the tuba, the flute, the clarinet, the fluegelhorn, the snare, the bass drum, the quads, the cymbals, the marimba... and some people who can toss the flags and dance the drills, and you've got something there. Then all you've got to do is learn to march and put together a show that spells out the name of your school, or something.

I'm not a recruiter standing on the sidewalk, talking people into playing and marching so we can have the biggest band in the state. I am a saxophonist who wants the whole set... someone to play every part, and stand in the right spots so we can make our formations.

I'm not an evangelist... a promoter of Christianity. I don't just want a large church, and certainly not a big name for myself. I'm just a Christ-follower with a certain set of gifts, trying to complete the beautiful, diverse picture that God has given me of the Body of Christ. Don't become a Christian just to be on the winning team. Join us because we need your help. God has given you a gift that we don't have yet, and maybe that's why we're struggling... maybe that's why we seem to be lacking something important. Because you're holding out on us.

The secular world talks a lot about diversity, but when we're at our best, they ain't got nothin' on the Body of Christ.

Some Thoughts on Merge

I'm gonna tack on another post about Merge to share with everybody some of my thoughts about it so far, and thoughts from a few others who have come multiple times. Two days ago was our fourth Sunday to do Merge in the morning. Turns out my neighbor Andrew is a great jazz guitarist, and he paired up with me to lead the music. He also plans to do it next week. After the Thankgiving holiday, I plan to add some hand percussion, and hopefully some female vocals.

The discussion was about the 10 plagues in Egypt, and how Jesus shows up in the baking of unleavened bread, and the slaughtering of the spotless lamb to save the Hebrews from the Angel of Death. And we had a comfortably large group, not the biggest so far, but probably a tie if you don't count out-of-towners or one-time visitors from other churches.

My thoughts about counting:

I'm finding it harder to stick to my commitment to not count people. I've done well not to count them during the gathering, but afterwards I tend to rehearse my memory of all those who came, and count them up then. In a way, that's not so bad, because it forces me to try to remember each individual who came, and remember their names if I can. As long as I can do it that way, I don't see a problem with counting. But if it gets too large for me to do that anymore, I think we should just guesstimate. I don't want us to do any actual counting, or to entertain questions like "So what are you runnin' these days?" My desire is to share our estimates with those who would honestly like to understand the atmosphere of our gatherings, and what they're like, but not to share them with those who want to gauge our "success" by numbers.

My thoughts about the name "Merge"

I'm thinking very strongly about getting rid of it. As it is, people know they're coming to the "Front Porch" and many of them also know they're coming to "Merge". But I think very few people have any idea what "The Core" is. I believe we're causing confusion. Chances are, within a few weeks, we'll just start calling our Sunday morning thing "The Core Worship Gathering" to simplify things for everyone. Maybe "Merge" will "re-emerge" at a later time, who knows.

Now I want to share some other people's thoughts. Jessica is one of my favorites, because she has come all four times since we began it, and next week will be watching the kids. She's a student at Missouri State. Nate is awesome as well... I met him at the Drury University Student Fair, and he's hung around pretty consistently. We've also jammed on guitars, and I'm determined to get him in on the music part of our worship gatherings soon.

From Jessica:

Yeah, I definitely love Merge. It has been cool to be there from the beginning of the Sunday morning gatherings. I really feel like it is genuine community, and I am all about that. I think the atmosphere is really great, and the people that I invite always really like it.

My friend that I had with me this week was Larry. He was one of my first friends when I came to college. He is a really great guy. He plans on going to seminary after he graduates and serving as a missionary in Japan. He is so passionate about Japanese culture.

But, yeah, I really like Merge. I think it is really inviting for everyone...believers, non-believers, people who aren't sure what they are. I am learning a lot from the discussions. I love the series that we are doing right now. Isn't it great to...you know...actually talk about JESUS, not Paul or Moses or Jessica. I just like it a lot. I also really like the fact that different musicians come in every week to help. I think it is great to see different people, and it may help from some people getting burnt out by doing it every week.

Ryan's response: I agree that it's great to talk about Jesus. But at the same time, I like to talk about Jesus in relation to everything else. I like to talk about Jesus AND Paul, about Jesus AND Moses, or about Jesus AND Jessica, if you know what I mean. As far as the music goes, I do hope it stabilizes at least somewhat. But the variety is definitely good, and I hope we always have some of that.

From Nate:

I really like it. It seems to be a lot more personal than other places that I've gone to. I also like how open ended it is: the different "modes" of seating and involvement, the fact that we can add our own comments, and just the atmosphere itself create a truly personal and worshipful experience. One thing that I've been thinking about are the discussions. I know we're covering the foundations and history of Jesus, but that's not really what is important. And, when one focus of such a worship gathering is to draw non-Christians to a deep and meaningful relationship with Christ, and when just the Old Testament and such are presented to them, all they would see was a history lesson and not the salvation that was established later. I know you talk about Jesus in them, but not really specifically about what he did. Not to say that these messages are not uplifting and purposeful, but they tend to seem more like a bible study and not like a outreach tool. I don't know, just sending some thoughts.

Ryan's response: Thanks also for the critique about the discussions. The Old Testament is a tough nut to crack, and I want to help people a little bit by showing them how Jesus shows up in it. But I definitely won't claim that I'm knocking it out of the park. We'll just be in the OT for one more week, and then we'll be in the gospels for three or four months.

In the Land of Broken Words

A few months ago, I wrote a song called "In the land of broken toys", reminiscent of the rejects portrayed in the claymation film "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer".

A land of broken toys is a very plausible fiction for anyone who knows more than a few children personally. Children break toys. It's a fact. Maybe it's because they get so excited whenever they have a new one that they can't control their energy. Maybe it's because they lack the necessary motor skills and sense of caution and consequence. Maybe it's just because they're, well... immature.

I believe that same immaturity lurks in the halls of the Big House of Evangelism, creating a Land of Broken Words. Because I know I'm not the only one who's noticed the velocity with which words are coined and discarded in an evangelical sub-culture obsessed with progress and results.

Perhaps some of these broken words are, in fact, better off broken. But others are perfectly suited to their purposes, and get broken because of carelessness... too much use, too loudly, with too little love.

I myself have been criticized for replacing "Christian" with "Christ-follower" among other things. Sometimes I make the swap with a hint of sadness... in the above case knowing that the former word implies the state of being "in Christ", unlike the latter. But I received the word already badly beaten, nearly beyond repair. Hopefully it will make a strong comeback one day, but I've always been more of an inventor than a mechanic.

And there is literally no end to the types of words that have fallen victim to this fate. But I'm going to focus here on the words that refer to people who have not surrendered their lives to Jesus, for the purpose of entering into an ongoing relationship to him. I'll be diggin up a pretty wide array, so here we go:

"HEATHEN"

Scripture Context: I Thessalonians 4:5 - a dirty sinner with animal instincts
Modern Connotation: pure insult - "Us vs. Them"
Status: Dead or Antiquated

"LOST"

Scripture Context: Luke 15:6 - Jesus seeking out his lost sheep (who are apparently clueless)
Modern Connotation: Parental concern that borders on pity - belittling & patronizing
Status: Musty but still Common

"UNSAVED"

Scripture Context: All throughout NT - Those not (yet) rescued from danger/damnation
Modern Connotation: Negative, "Haves vs. Have-Nots"
Status: Common

"PRE-CHRISTIAN"

Scripture Context: Possibly 2 Peter 3:9, though we have no reason to believe that every Non-Christian is a "Pre-Christian".
Modern Connotation: Snarky, Presumptuous
Status: Contemporary, but Limited

"UNCHURCHED"

Scripture Context: Not sure if there is any (further explanation below)
Modern Connotation: Unrefined, Unpropagandized (further explanation below)
Status: Common and Gaining

There are a lot more I could hit, but this last one, "unchurched" is what I want to focus on. And as I do, keep in mind that I am mostly speaking on behalf of a post-modern generation, and not attempting serious journalism, so my perspective will be limited, yet I think crucial as well.

Post-modern culture tends to view the Church, and Christianity much the way it views any other large institution. Chock-full of self-serving agendas and schemes to brainwash entire generations into unquestioning submission. In post-modern eyes, a large corporation has achieved its goal when every last individual is walking around as if in a trance reminiscent of Dustin Hoffman's character from Rain Man: "Gotta go to K-Mart. Gotta go to K-Mart."

It has also not escaped their notice they way Missions has been conducted over the last several centuries... where it is just as important to westernize a populace as to evangelize it. They (we?) are convinced, and perhaps with good reason, that the Church is out to destroy all cultures but its own... that a modern Missions Director takes more queues from Alexander the Great than from Paul the Apostle.

Thus, to become "churched" is to become forcibly assimilated, to lose touch with one's own willpower and surrender to the Borg, since resistance is, indeed, futile. It is to fall victim to pervasive propaganda and slick marketing... to sell out.

Many Christians already hold this view toward mega-churches. The larger the church, the more resources available for marketing, and the more people will be accused of selling out when they finally break down and join "Six Flags over Jesus". This is not to be critical... but we close our eyes to the prevailing attitudes. And those belonging to small or medium churches should understand that the way they feel about the Great Conglomeration Congregation out on the highway is the way many people feel about the Church as a whole.

And we have to be aware of that when we use words like "Unchurched". We can't be surprised when people see it as adversarial... like the trash talk on the court that soundly predicts the fate of one's opponent.

But it's not just the talk. I believe that in many cases the mentality is consistent with the connotation. Evangelism-minded Christians often believe that they are in possession of a culture that should be spread like hellenism to the entire known world. So if this what the world hears us saying, perhaps it is not disingenuous at all. Perhaps we truly are communicating accurately with such a word.

And that's even worse. It's no real trouble to deport another sorry ex-patriot to the Land of Broken Words. To turn an attitude around is another thing entirely.

So ask yourself: "Am I more concerned about a population that is unchurched, or one that is unloved?" Did Jesus call me to go about "churching" people, or loving them? Because when you love a person like Jesus does, you're going to tell them the truth, even if it's hard. You're just far less likely to communicate it with a fake million-dollar bill.

One more thing: in addition to being concerned about those who are unloved, we need to take note of the undiscipled. For if there are two Jesus mandates that cannot be disputed, they are: to love people, and to disciple them. And often, the quest for the undiscipled can be conducted within the walls of the church, because sadly, it's like shooting fish in a bucket to find those still subsisting on the milk of the Word, having never cut their teeth on its meat.

I will wrap this up by recognizing that I am still hung up on these negative words that many people have tried to get away from. The fact is that the terms "unloved" and "undiscipled", however big an improvement they may be, are still not fit for public consumption. Believe me... I have tried and tried to find words that are.

But there are so many great words from the past that have been discarded due merely to becoming misused or worn out. Is it time to take a trip to the junkyard for some salvage work? Maybe it is.

So who's got a crowbar?

The Inclusive Jesus

In the process of reading through the gospels once again, this morning I came across what I believe to be one of the most intriguing scenes in the entire Bible:

"On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, 'Is it not written: 'My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it 'a den of robbers.'' The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching." -Mark 11:15-18

Now this is a man's memory verse, and I've mentioned it several times before in that capacity. Although John is less descriptive of this controversial act than Matthew, Mark and Luke, he does mention that Jesus drove them out with a whip that he made himself. That tells us two very important things:

1) Jesus was not guilty of rage, or of losing his temper. He had thought things through far enough in advance to make a whip just for this occasion. And,

2) Jesus had some mad skills.

Those two ideas were not new to me as I read the passage this morning. But in an effort to draw more out of Jesus' teachings, I have taken the advice of Ray VanderLaan, and started paying close attention to the source of Jesus' quotes. VanderLaan teaches that, when Jesus quotes the Old Testament, his true message is often not so much in the actual words he says, as in the passage he is referring to. This is not to say that Jesus is being misleading or disingenuous--every word he says is true--but that there is deeper meaning available for those who familiarize themselves with the Bible of Jesus' day. And I believe this is the case with the temple-clearing scene.

When he rebukes the temple officials, Jesus quotes two Old Testament prophets in one sentence. "My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations" comes from Isaiah chapter 56. The second part, about the den of robbers, comes from Jeremiah chapter 7.

OK, that was easy enough. All you have to do is check the footnotes to find that out. But now how about reading those two chapters? What are they really about?

One very intriguing thing about the temple-clearing passage is the emphasis on Jesus' teaching. You'd think, at a moment like this, everybody would either be cheering or jeering because of Jesus' behavior, not his words. But even in the midst of such outlandish deeds, the focus is on what Jesus is saying. Mark does not suggest that he is shouting his memory verses at the top of his lungs as he throws tables over the wall, and busts open the pigeon cages. Rather it says he is teaching the people. Likewise, when the chief priests heard this, they wanted to kill him, not for causing a ruckus, but because the people were amazed at his teaching.

Now I don't think we can conclude that the priests and teachers wanted to kill Jesus out of jealousy. As if one instructor at a school wins the educator of the year award and the others set right out to build a gallows in the teachers' lounge. It is indeed possible that Jesus' popularity and competency as a rabbi aroused the green-eyed monster among his colleagues, but it is far more likely that they wanted to kill him for what he taught than how he taught.

So what was Jesus really teaching? That the temple officials were getting a little carried away with the merchandising? That things were being run too much like a business and not enough like the house of God? Perhaps that people were getting ripped off and short-changed?

These things could all be fairly drawn from the text, and I don't think they would be wrong. But look again before you set fire to your church bookstore or tip over the soda machine. Because I believe that Jesus' heart on the matter lies in the message of Isaiah 56 and Jeremiah 7.

The Isaiah passage makes a beautiful promise to Israel's outsiders; to those who fear that their lineage will exclude them from the kingdom of God. A special comfort goes out to the eunuchs, who have been so mutilated as to never be considered among the circumcised. God essentially is telling the world, "No matter who you are, where you're from, or what your past is like, if you bind yourself to me, and keep my commands, I will hear your prayers and accept your sacrifices." What an incredible message (especially in the Old Testament!)

Now it's important to recognize that the Temple in Jerusalem had four courts: The Court of the Gentiles, and going inward from there, the Court of Women, the Court of Men, and the Holy of Holies. It is obvious that God intended people from all nations to be welcome at the Temple (even if only in the outer court,) to worship there and offer their sacrifices. But by Jesus' day, the rulers of the Temple had allowed (caused?) the Court of the Gentiles to overflow with merchants and money changers. This made it impossible for non-Jews to worship there, and sent a very strong message that they were not welcome.

So Jesus barges in and declares that the Temple was meant to be a house of prayer for all nations, not for one nation only! Israel had a sacred duty to welcome people of every stripe to God's house, and they had failed.

Not only had they failed to provide hospitality to the nations, they had traded hospitality for iniquity. A place designed to radiate the grace of God was serving instead to highlight the greed of men. Thus the Jeremiah quote about the 'den of robbers'.

And this is where we really come to understand that Jesus is not merely venting about the misuse of a worship facility, but pronouncing doom on a nation who ignores God's commands. Because in Jeremiah chapter 7 we can see very clearly God's displeasure with those who would "oppress the alien," among others (verse 7.) God commands Jeremiah to stand at the gate of the temple, and announce that God is giving his people one last chance to reject false gods and serve him only, to treat people with love and grace and hospitality, and he will continue to accept their offerings and allow them to live in the Promised Land.

But if they do not--and Jesus was making it very clear that they had not--then God would no longer accept their sacrifices. In fact, God told them they might as well keep their sacrifices to themselves, because he was about to destroy the temple and scatter them from their homeland.

When Jesus referenced Jeremiah 7 (and when he said other things about the Temple, like "not one stone will be left on another") , he was making it very plain that Israel had had her chance, and she blew it. No wonder the chief priests and teachers of the law were fuming.

But right there, in the midst of a proclamation of doom, Jesus was making a promise of redemption. All the people were amazed at his teaching, because they were sick of being excluded. What a thought, that God would welcome everyone into his presence! What a thought, for you and I, that God is calling us to stop holding the "undesirables" at arm's length, and start truly showing them the love of Christ! Over and over we see it: Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman or the Roman general, Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch, Peter seeing the vision of unclean foods, James inspiring us to honor the poor, or Paul dedicating his life's ministry to the Gentiles. What a grand theme of Jesus' life... to subvert the natural order, to exalt the humble and humiliate the self-exalted!

Despite the grand message, you might have concluded that Jesus didn't go far enough in his purging. Yes, he fought to give back the Court of the Gentiles, but what about all the separation? Why should the Gentiles be considered less than the Jews, and the women be denied privileges reserved for men?

During his life, you'd be right. Jesus did stop short. But when he was crucified, all that he'd been saying came to an explosive climax. Because at that moment, the curtain in the temple, designed by God to keep virtually all people separated from his presence, was ripped in two from top to bottom. Now, not only are Gentiles welcome among the Jews, but each and every person who trusts in Jesus is granted access to the heart of God!

Paul said it best in Galatians 3:28. "There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

Amen.

The Cross and the Bench

Allow me to paint you a picture.

You've got two big, flat pieces of wood, and a quasi-church-coffeehouse-type building. The pieces of wood are as old as the building itself. You don't need them for framing or construction, but they're too cool and historic to throw away. What do you do with them?

One of our volunteers at the Front Porch had a suggestion: a cross! Why not? When a Christian has two big pieces of wood and a quasi-church whatever... a cross is a natural solution.

I love this guy, who suggested this. He is one of the most genuine, friendly, helpful people I know. But on this point, I had to disagree. When I see two pieces of wood that ought to be used somehow, you know what I think?

A bench. Right outside the front door. Maybe even a place for a Christ-follower to have a cigarette with a stranger (note: smoking is bad for you.)

More importantly, a bench on the sidewalk is a place for conversation. It's a place to sit down, relax, and get to know somebody. And since it's on a sidewalk, there's no telling who might walk by and want to join you, or recognize you from somewhere else and stick around to chat.

If you want my opinion about the cross... Jesus' death was the most important event in all of history (with the possible exception of his resurrection... or maybe Creation.) The cross represents the turning point of mankind, and it is the hinge (better yet, the crux) on which our spirituality turns. I love the cross.

But do I wear one? No. Do we display them in our home? Not really. Do I want to have a cross up at the Front Porch? Probably not.

Because, no matter how much you love the cross, you have to ask yourself why you would want to keep one around. If you have a good reason for it, more power to you. But I can also see some ways that being in the constant presence of symbols of our faith has brought about complacency.

What religion is Jack? Christian. How do you know? The fish on his car.

Does ABC Plumbing charge a fair price? Probably. How do you know? The cross in their ad.

Our symbols can so easily define us... to others and to ourselves. When we are surrounded by them, we feel that we have made our point. But what might happen if our symbols disappeared? What if we suddenly forgot all our cliches and buzzwords? Then how would people know what we believe?

We might have to resort to caring for the poor, visiting the sick, and listening to the weird. We might have to fall back on things like love, prayer, and worship (the real kind... from the depths of our heart.) We might decide to actually spend time with people... and be Christ to them.

I'm not saying that Christians never do these things. But if that's all we had to define us, maybe we'd be a little more gung-ho about it, don't you think?

So once again, I love the cross. But if you're out and about, and you see a little miniature bench that I could glue to my fender, call me.

No More Sissy Jesus

It looks like Christianity is playing a new game of “He Said, She Said.”

She said, “Jesus is our bridegroom, and we’re his bride. And that’s great, because he’s kind and gentle and forgiving, and he wants us to worship him with pretty music and poetry and floral arrangements all over the place.”

He said, “Jesus is a masculine dude… he was a carpenter and rebel. He was always stickin’ it to the man. You know, calling the Phrisees vipers and battling Satan and driving the crooks out of the Temple with a whip he made himself. He wants us to worship him with rock music and shouting and gut-level honesty and risk-taking and bending metal.”

Literally.

Good Morning America this morning featured an organization called “GodMen”, that wants to give the Christian faith a shot in the arm… the big, muscle-bound arm. And it turns out that muscles are a very important aspect to this brand of faith, because some participants actually get the opportunity to bend frying pans.

GodMen’s founder Brad Stine says the point is to “toughen up Christian men.”

Here’s the problem, as they see it: apparently only 4 out of 10 church-goers is male (and it’s not unlikely that 1 of those 4 was dragged there by his wife.) Some men have looked around at the total package experience of Church, and found the reason was obvious. Everything seems tailored to appeal to women: the music, the décor… Even the target virtues (grace, love, peace, etc) have a feminine slant.

They’ve got a point. But if you think you know where I’m going with this… hold on.

Stine says, “There’s nuances to Christianity; there’s elements that we haven’t been taught as men because we’re different from women. So when we walk into a church, we don’t see metal, we see ferns. We’re not used to that. We want something that shows the masculine side as well. We’re not trying to take over. We love the feminine side, but we think there should be a balance so that both sides are represented.”

So I’ve gotta ask… Is the Church a democratic republic? Is the goal to evenly represent the characteristics and personalities of its members?

We have no excuse in this day and age to ignore the role that culture plays in our spiritual development. Because we are “in the world” we can never get away from that influence. And if you’re a man, you may indeed be feeling somewhat left out of the equation… much like a Spanish speaker in an English-language service. “Is anyone here trying to relate to me?”

But at the end of the day, these “GodMen” need to recognize that God is not a man. Nor is he a woman. God transcends masculinity and femininity... and it’s a good thing, too. Because our gender, our language, our nationality, our personality... these things are just launchpads from which we embark our spiritual journey. And although we will never fully escape them during our lifetimes, we are foolish to strap ourselves down.

Kudos to these guys for keeping it real, and for driving the message home in a fresh and relevant way. But when they go back to their home congregations, let’s hope they take with them far more than a penchant for gender equity. Let’s hope we can all learn to die to ourselves, and be found alive in Christ.

I Am a Hypocrite

The whole world looks like wood to me.

Oh, I hear the snickers… the put-downs, the wisecracks. And you know what? I don’t care. They can laugh all they want. What good are their opinions anyway? Splinters in their eyes… every one of them. What chance do they have of seeing me clearly anyway? They’re nuts. They’ve got splinters everywhere.

“Hm… Coreman?”

“Yes.”

“Can I show you something?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You see this mirror, here?”

“What are you talking about… that two-by-four?”

“You mean… this… two by four?”

“Where do you get that? And where did that mirror come from?”

“This board was IN your eye. See, it’s got a few of your eyelashes on it.”

“Well, what happened to all the stuff that was in your eye?”

“There wasn’t any… you were looking at this board.”

“oh.”

And everything falls apart. All my life I’ve been complaining with the best of them: “The Church is full of hypocrites!” Some of us complainers simply got fed up and left. Others were like me, and decided that the Church didn’t have to be full of hypocrites... those aren't the real Christians anyway. So if we start a new church with real Christians, bingo. Hypocrite-free.

But now I’m holding this two-by-four in my hands. And I realize that, when I left the old crowd to start fresh, I inadvertently brought one hypocrite with me. And standing in front of the mirror now, it’s all too obvious.

Donald Miller is famous for saying, in his book Blue Like Jazz, that “I am the problem.” After spending numerous months gaining a reputation as a socially conscious activist and political protester, he realized that he should rather be protesting himself, holding up a cardboard sign emblazoned with those four self-incriminating words.

Roger Moran, the man indirectly responsible for sending hundreds of new readers to my blog last week, is guilty of blind antogonism and divisiveness within the Body of Christ. He pulled out his rhetorical claws, and went for the jugular.

He attacked with error. I, in turn, retaliated with accuracy. But it was not Truth. The Truth of Christ cannot be couched in retaliation, defensiveness and pride.

I was talking with my dad (a fellow pastor and fellow church-planter) last weekend about what it means to be a pastor. It dawned on me that, although God calls certain individuals to be pastors, he does not promise us extra righteousness, and he certainly does not expect us to find it on our own. And honestly, even a pastor who is paid full-time to do nothing but study, preach, pray, and shepherd his people has no real hope for a superior holiness. Yet that is what we have come to expect from our spiritual leaders. To be a cut above… a little lower than the angels, and a little higher than the bourgeoisie.

But not only is such a notion silly, it is reckless. Isn’t it obvious that pastors feel this pressure building up, this performance anxiety to be a poster-child of godliness?

In the end, I decided that all we have is humility. All we have is repentance, accountability, brokenness. We cannot be superior, nor should we strive to. There will always be lay people more surrendered than us, more prayerful than us, more obedient than us. And there will always be grievous mistakes in our lives, straining to be confessed. It is not until we give up our pride of position and let them out that we can welcome authenticity into our lives. Perfection awaits us in the by-and-by. Let's embrace vulnerability and authenticity in the here-and-now.

Every church should have a perfect leader. We just have to let the Perfect Leader lead.

First United Church of Aloe & Watermelon

Back when we were first contemplating naming ourselves The Core, I briefly entertained the idea of spelling it “The COR”. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t, because it looks stupid. But I was originally dissuaded for a different reason. I told a co-worker about my idea, and she said, “Oh, I see! Church Of Ryan.” Immediately I realized it needed an “e” on the end. Thankfully my last name doesn’t begin with “e”.

There are actually two things wrong with “Church of Ryan.” The obvious one is that my name is in it. The Apostle Paul rebuked those who claimed to follow Apollos, or Peter, or himself, because all Christians should follow Christ alone (or pre-eminently, anyway.) It’s kind of a shame that there is a denomination called “Church of Christ”, because this should describe every gathering of believers.

Let me issue a challenge to everyone reading this. The first person to e-mail me the name of a church somewhere in the United States that is named after its mortal human founder, or leader, will get a free drink of their choice from the MudHouse. No teeny-tiny churches, and no cults, please. Also, churches named St. John’s, St. Peter’s, Our Lady Guadalupe of the Immaculate Reception, and so forth, do not count. I make this challenge because I would be surprised if such a church exists… Now, I could name several churches off the top of my head that are totally centered around one charismatic leader, but I doubt anyone would be cocky enough to make it so obvious.

So the first problem is the word “Ryan”. The second problem, then, is the word “Church”. Is The Core “a church” at all?

For the sake of clarity, I tell people that The Core is a church in the same sense that First United Southern Presbyterian is a church, or Third Baptist is a church (even though these examples, to my knowledge, do not exist.) It is not simply a ministry, or a parachurch organization. It is a Christian congregation, which most people would call “a church.” But even that thought chafes me a bit. Because I can’t say for sure that there is such a thing as “a church.” (*see first comment)

What was “a church” in the New Testament? Well, there was “the church” of Colossae, “the church” of Rome, “the church” of Sardis (sorry for all the quote marks… if you and I were having this conversation in person you would be getting the Chinese finger-cuffs out by now to get me to stop hooking my fingers in the air.) Why were these “churches” (sorry) separate from each other? I think the obvious answer is: geography. People could only travel so far to gather with one another. And within that travel radius, there appeared to be a fair amount of unity. When Paul chided the Corinthians, he didn’t say, “Well, I’m pretty happy with that group of you that raises your hands a lot, but I’m not so happy with that group of you that does everything by committee.” No…they succeeded together, and they failed together, because they were ONE CHURCH. As were all the other churches that Paul wrote to, and the seven churches that Jesus addressed in the book of Revelation. (*see second comment)

Today, you have people belonging to churches up to 30 miles from home. Many people, limited only by geography, could choose from hundreds of churches to attend. If limited by geography and denomination, that might cut it down to 30. If limited by geography, denomination and style, you may only have 5 choices. Now you just have to choose the one with the best children’s program, or the nicest people, or the most dynamic pastor.

Is this starting to remind anyone of a trip down the hair products aisle? Why should we expect anyone to be more loyal to their church than they are to their Aloe & Watermelon Moisturizing Shampoo Plus Conditioner for Oily Brunettes? They are the same thing in most people’s minds, because when the church becomes a product, the Christian becomes a consumer.

But when the Church was founded, it was just that… THE CHURCH. It was not a denomination, conglomeration or organization. It was the Universal Body of Christ, with local chapters gathering whenever and wherever they could. It wasn’t about finding people you love. It was about loving the people you’ve already got.

So you’re right to wonder why anybody would want to plant “another church” (sorry again) in Springfield, buckle of the Bible Belt. I wonder that, too. I can only hope that The Core is presenting people an opportunity to finally understand what it means to be part of “The Church”… to forget about being a card-carrying member of a religious institution, and start being a load-bearing member (an arm, an ear, a nose, a foot) of the Body of Christ.

Yellow House / Blue House

Following is a reproduction of a conversation between me, and a pastor friend of mine. My words are in dark blue, his are in dark red.

Thousands and thousands of churches… For whom are all these churches built and run?

If they're for Christians… are we guilty of colossal selfishness? Do we really need all this stuff to become more like Christ?

If they're for Non-Christians… are we guilty of building and running them in a way that repels Non-Christians? Why would we expect the unsaved to enjoy our music, our décor, our customs?

If for a combination of the two… are we guilty of both?”

I don’t have anything profound to say about this. I think our buildings are just a cultural expression of our faith, just as in Africa the people worship under banyan trees. Buildings in our culture are merely ways to keep us warm in winter, cool in summer, and dry in rain. Obviously, like anything else of this world, buildings can be overdone, but for the most part, most church buildings are more functional than decorative.

True enough.

But I’m obviously not opposed to buildings in general. I just think that few people are really clear why all these church buildings exist. I myself wonder if the increased benefit of building a church, over using homes or school buildings, is great enough to justify the expense. In other words, are they really cost-effective in helping us become the people God wants us to be? I think this question is especially poignant if you consider how our church buildings tend to reinforce the exclusivity of our Christian sub-culture.

It makes me imagine a gated community with houses that are all yellow, where the people all wear yellow. A group of outsiders walk by, who don’t like yellow, they like blue. The security guard at the gate says, “We want to invite you to live in our gated community. But first you must change into this yellow clothing.” So the outsiders respond, “Why would we want to wear clothing we don’t like, in order to live in a neighborhood we don’t like?” This scenario happens over and over, and the security guard has many different responses, including “Because otherwise you’ll go to hell”, or “Because I promise you’ll like it once you’ve tried it”, or “Because it would make your mother happy” or “Because there’s free food inside” or “Well, you can keep your blue clothing, but you’ll still have to live in a yellow house, and everybody will kind of look at you funny.” And so on and so forth.

That being said, I recognize that God uses many different methods among different groups to build His Kingdom. I don’t mean to be critical, just trying to challenge myself and others to think about things in new ways.

Glad you’re back… Hope I haven’t demanded too much of your time.

They also represent the inclusitivity of our faith. They do give us places to gather. The issue is not the building. The issue is the hearts of the people gathering there. A building is nothing but brick and mortar. It has no plus or minus factor in and of itself. All hinges on the hearts of the worshipers. Even groups that are committed to not using buildings end up using them. Saddleback is of course the classic example. Another example is The Core here in Springfield. They have opted to use a building downtown as their Front Porch. Are you acquainted with The Core?

Very funny…

You are right that it is our hearts that ultimately matter. But we also have to consider how our behavior, our clothing, our buildings and our customs impact those around us who are not Christians.

One of my original questions was, if (and that’s a big “if”) our buildings are primarily for the purpose of outreach, why are they designed to appeal only to Christians? The Front Porch is being designed specifically to appeal to downtowners, who may or may not be Christians, but by-and-large do not relate to the standard Bible Belt subculture. So I never said that Christians shouldn’t build or run their own facilities, I was just wondering if our purposes and our methods are lining up right.

I don’t think our buildings were built primarily for outreach. They are merely utilitarian. Sorry about the off-handed humor. The imp in me escapes from time to time.

Not to worry… impishness is an occasional trait of mine, as well.

I guess if they’re utilitarian, and primarily for Christians, then the question is whether we are using our money wisely. As I said before, I often wonder if we are more successful followers of Christ as a result of our buildings, or if there are less expensive ways to meet our own needs, thus freeing up more funds to reach the world.

Robert Schuller, speaking of the medieval cathedrals, says the most expensive church buildings are the most economical because they last the longest by far.

Although no building is cost-effective unless it is used well. And no church building is cost-effective if we could accomplish our real purpose just as well without it.

After all that was said, he and I had a conversation about it in person, which I did not tape record. It was concluded, as so many of my hard-fought discussions lately, that God calls different people to accomplish his will in different ways. This, to me, is the most intellectually dissatisfying conclusion. And yet, it is in many ways a spiritual relief... that it's not up to me to figure out what everyone else's methods should be. I am called to hear God's voice speaking to me, and obey it. Period.

But still... I can't help wondering, whenever I pass by all these church buildings, if God's people really know what they're doing. Is it possible that we could spend millions of dollars without a clear idea of who is supposed to benefit from the result? And all the while the blue people need houses they don't want, while the yellow people build houses they don't need.

TV, Duct Tape, Churchaholism and a Puppy

During my final year of bachelorhood, I had a string of unstable roommates. Granted, most of them were stable in and of themselves, it's just that they couldn't stick around for long. But you know, it wasn't me, it was them. (That's what they always said, anyway.)

The most memorable roomate among them, though, was Nate. Nate was your typical rock-climber DJ mime from Ohio. Eventually he got a puppy (against the rules) without asking me, and after a month decided to move elsewhere so he could keep it. Nate didn't do me much good as a roommate, except for one thing. One evening I complained that it was too easy just to sit down and watch TV instead of getting my stuff done. He said, "Why don't you just get rid of it? You don't need a TV." Simple advice, but it hit me between the eyes. So I did it.

In and of itself, TV is not a bad thing. Just like any medium or entertainment, it's like duct tape... you know, light side, dark side. But when you start getting stuck to it, it wraps itself around your arms and legs, and you fall over and at first you call out for help but then you feel all cozy and decide that the floor's not as hard as you thought, and maybe if you can slide yourself over to the fridge life might not be so bad after all.

But my point is (yes, there's a point!) that when good things become addictive, we need to learn how to live without them for awhile. Now my wife and I watch half an hour of Good Morning America each day, a couple of Simpsons episodes on DVD each week, and the occasional something else. But for a long time we watched no TV at all. And during that time I learned what it was like to actually get things done, and not rely so heavily on entertainment.

Do you think church services are kind of like that? Like TV or Sex or Prescription Drugs that can strangle us if we get too attached to them? I wonder often if Christendom has lost track of its spiritual identity without the standard Sunday morning presentation. Maybe we need a fast. Maybe we need to take a break from the Sanctuaries and Sermons and Choirs just long enough to remember what it means to follow Christ with our lives. Maybe if we did that, we would have to re-think what it means to not "forsake our meeting together", and we would invite people over for dinner and pray with people at work and share our souls with good friends without falling back on just inviting them to church like we've always done.

And when the fast is over, I suppose we could come back to the old Sunday morning bit with a new perspective... for that weekly experience to be a beautiful part of our faith, not the only part.

And by the way... if you're gonna do this, don't just rename the Sanctuary the Auditorium, call the Sermons Messages, and replace the Choir with a Worship Team. That doesn't count.

Like Thy Neighbor

Does the Church love you?

If not, shame on them. If so, big deal... they have to, right?

God said "Love thy neighbor" in Deuteronomy, and Jesus reiterated it as the second most important commandment. So if the church loves you, it's not necessarily because you're all that lovable. In fact, Jesus made it even worse when he told his followers to love the unlovable. That means the best Christians out there are the ones looking for the ugly, smelly, despicable people to love. Now do you start feeling like the life of the pity party?

But how did Jesus do it? Did he go around healing and feeding people, and then go home, flop in his La-Z-Boy and watch SportsCenter? I think the obvious answer is no. (Jesus quit watching ESPN when it got too sexy.)

Jesus partied with people! That was his greatest detractor-fodder. He hung out with the people the religious types couldn't stand. Do you think Jesus just went to these shin-digs so he could keep on healing and feeding people? (Well, he did turn water into wine at a wedding party, but he was pretty reluctant.) I think he enjoyed being around them, and he wanted them to know it.

The truth is, love is a many-faceted thing. If you want to completely love somebody, you need to encourage them, spend time with them, meet their needs, give them hugs, show them you're committed to them, give them gifts, etc, etc. When did the church decide that "need-meeting" was the be-all end-all?

I can't stand tailgaters. The other day I was in traffic, and started to think my usual thoughts about the carelessness of the drivers around me. But then I decided to find a way to like them instead. There was a guy on my rear who was close enough to reach out the window, grab my bumper and turn off his engine to save gas. But I decided to think, "Maybe he's late for dinner, and he doesn't want to be rude to his wife by letting it get cold. What a good guy." Now, for the record... if you follow people by less than a two second gap, please stop. It's very dangerous and annoying. But on the other hand, if you're surrounded by people who are getting on your nerves, try finding ways to like them for a change.

And let's challenge ourselves, as the Church, to stop loving people in such a merit-badge, brownie points kind of way. Trust me, they can tell.

Next week on The Core Blog: "Like the Lord thy God" and "Like thy enemy"