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The power does not lie in the formula; the power lies in following.
When I look back at and see those people, churches, and ideas that really had the power and energy of God behind them, I see a common thread: a person or group of people were following Jesus’ lead within their specific context and time, the result of which ended up looking quite different than what others were doing. They really wrestled with and answered the questions, Where are we seeing Jesus around us? and, Where and to what is he leading us? They weren’t following a formula of success, they were following Jesus.
And then a funny and ironic thing happens. People see their success and clamor for the “secret” formula of which they are willing to travel great distances and pay lots of money to get it. Instead of asking, What is Jesus doing here and how is he asking us to participate?, they ask, What is Jesus doing over there and how can I bottle and duplicate it? We see this happening all over the place, don’t we. But Jesus isn’t interested in making clones, he is interested in creating new life.
But following Jesus rather than a formula causes our fears to surface. Our thoughts betray us: It’s unknown. What if it fails? There’s no proven track record. Will it be successful? How do I do it? What if God leads me to where I do not want to go or do? What if I loose my position or job? Will others follow as well or will I be alone? Perhaps I’ll misread God’s leading . . . and on and on our fears bob to the surface. Yet when we follow Jesus he has a way of loosening our fears and freeing us from them as well.
So I offer that the power lies in following Jesus’ lead in our lives and communities. It does lie not in a formula created by others regardless how successful it may seem to be. But which is easier, personally following Jesus or applying a formula? We all know the answer to that, don’t we. Hence the pervasiveness of formula marketing and purchasing. But which is better, formula or following Jesus? We know that answer too.
I pray that the hope and possible fruit of “answer two” begins to outweigh the temptation of “answer one”. When it does, I believe it is then that great power, creative energy and influence will be unleashed.
Lord, grant us the courage to follow you regardless the cost.
I rarely simply quote someone and leave it at that. I always like to add my two-cents thinking that my insight will make it better (as if). But tonight when I read this paragraph, it summarized exactly what we are experiencing in real-time here in Folsom within a small group of friends. So here it is:
“In the exodus from Egypt to the Babylonian captivity, the Israelites were most awake to the Maker in times of journey and instability . . . Pilgrims always have a lot to talk about. There are stories to tell, advice to exchange, and plans to make about the best way to reach the next vista. Revolutions are often planned in cafes and begin with talks among friends. Great social and spiritual movements germinate when a few isolated people find one another, share deeply, and dream out loud about a different and better future. Through generative friendship a collective voice becomes stronger, and what was once timidly whispered in private emerges to become the topic of public discourse and reform. Dialogue creates resonance that fosters grass-roots energy and initiative. Conversation at its best is never just talk; it is the means by which we kindle imagination and gain the courage to take action together.” (Re-read that last line).
As McDonald’s says, I’m Lovin’ It!
[Source: Soul Graffiti by Mark Scandrette, pg 46-47]
I have not seen Jen (my wife) this mad in a long time. She was sooooo angry at me last night! And the thing is, I fully deserved it. Here’s the story…
Jen meets with a group of women every Monday night and it has been the deepest, most rewarding experience she has had in a group. She loves it. Now within this group, there are certain commitments you make, one of which is to be on time to group. And this group takes that commitment very seriously. Beyond that, Jen loves it so much that she makes sure she is there early every week to share in the pre-fellowship.
So last night, I got a phone call from a friend last minute and he need to show me something really quick. Jen needed to leave for her group and so I promised her I would not make her late and that I’d back in a few minutes. I grabbed my son, Caleb, left Ashlyn (our two-year-old daughter) with her and we hopped in the Jeep to go see what my friend wanted to show me.
At least that is what Jen thought. I lied to her.
What Caleb and I were really doing was going to Target to waste time and make Jennifer late to her group. She is 8.75 months pregnant and her group wanted to throw her a surprise baby shower and asked me to make her late. An unfortunate side-effect was that she was going to get very, very angry at me, her hubby. Here is the minute by minute breakdown of what happened. As you read it, keep in mind that her group begins at 6:30 and it takes 15-20 minutes to drive there.
6:05 - Dave calls me as planned and I pretend it is Len, a good friend of mine I have not seen in a while.
6:08 - I lie to her saying we are going to our old church, but Caleb and I leave and go to Target instead.
6:15 - Caleb wander around Target and I are fully expecting a phone call from an angry wife, but nothing yet…we are laughing!!
6:19 - My cell phone rings…it is Jen. I ignore it!!! Oh man, I’m in trouble now. We laugh even harder.
6:25 - We purchase two baby onesies, head to the Jeep and I call Jen to let her know I am sorry and we are on our way home. She says that she is on the way to the church (where we are NOT at) to drop off Ashlyn! Noooo! I tell her that I already left and for her to just meet me at the house. She is flaming mad by this point (and if you knew her, you would know how rarely she gets mad). She says no and pulls off to the side of the road and tells me to find her. Problem. I am coming from the wrong direction to be coming from the church.
6:27 - I finally find her, she hops out of the van yanking poor Ashlyn out, storms across the street (and I am trying not to crack a smile or laugh), tosses Ashyln into my arms, making sure not to look at me because she might haul off and hit me, turns and drives off. Caleb and I are cracking up!! Ahslyn is just really confused.
6:28 - I call Jen to falsely apologize and wallow and advise her not to let this ruin her evening; she is mad, but getting better.
6:43 - Jen calls my cell phone and calls me a brat and is laughing her butt off because she just got the snot surprised out of her by her friends and is being blessed.
11:25 - Jen comes home, I show her the gifts Caleb and I bought Scout (our soon to be born baby) and laughed together as we relived the evening’s series-of-unfortunate-fortunate-events.
(By the way Linda, you owe me! Big time! And Dave, thanks for the fake “phone call”)
Jen, I love you babe. Let’s have that baby, shall we?
You got to love Peet’s Coffee. Not only is it way better than a certain Seattle-originated coffee place (I made a commitment not to slander on my blog) but it is also where God brought together a few unlikely people.
Jonathan Brink and I went to college together way back in the day (1993) and went our separate ways only to randomly meet up in a local Peet’s coffee where we realized that God had been speaking similar things to both our hearts. That was a little over a year ago and the rest has been history. Our families have become great friends. Then another friend of our, John Holmes, begins the conversation and recommends that a friend of his, Dave, meets with Jonathan. So Dave and Jonathan meet in a, you guessed it, Peet’s Coffee, where Jonathan suggests that Dave join a new Thrive group that begins the following Tuesday. Lo and behold, it is the same Thrive group I was involved in and when Dave walked in, him and I sensed an immediate connection (though he has a tattoo and I don’t…though that might be changing). Shortly thereafter, we had him and his now wife, Linda, over to our house for dinner and the rest is history (Jen, Linda and Christine [Jonathan's wife] are also part of the same Thrive group as each other). Since then we have shared many BBQ’s, meals, beers, wine, stories, tears, laughter, deep-thoughts, soul searching, ahh-hah moments and just plain ol’ fun times together as couples and families.
But in the midst of all that, God was weaving his dream in our hearts. And then he brought others into the dreaming: Tim, Kelly, and our wives, Jen, Christine, and Linda. Together we wrestle and think. We feel fear. We feel excitement. We feel a sense of togetherness. We feel free to disagree. We feel alive. We feel free to express anything to anyone without fear of judgment. We feel safe. We feel like we really like each other, enjoy each other, and love hanging out and being the church of Christ. 4-hours together feels like 30 minutes and we always have a sense of joy and sadness when we part, thankful to have shared time together but sad that it has to end and we have to go to work 
. We dream together and each other’s words feed our souls and stimulate thought. We are feeding off a dream that is developing more and more each time we hang out together. (You can read more about the dream here, here, and here). As we dream together we are finding new life and energy for ministry and the the love of God.
I truly wish each and every one of you could be apart of this group that God has brought together. In some ways, you are. Your words and spirit are a part of us in ways you may never know. But the cool thing is this: God has a dream for you to follow in community with those around you. This is God’s dream that God is fleshing out in our community. And the question that begs to be asked is, What is God’s dream that is being fleshed out (or wanting to be fleshed out) in your community? See, I think it is less about, What is God doing over there so we can imitate it? and more about, What is God doing right here so we can join Him?
So I dare you to listen to God’s dream. And when it finds you, have the courage to join in…regardless the cost! But I warn you, though at times it might feel as if you are losing your life and faith, you are actually finding it.
By the way, please remember to share your journey with us so we can be mutually encouraged that God indeed is at work in reconciling all creation, all men (and women), and all things to himself. Because after all, Christ is all and is in all.
Blessings!!
No matter what you name your baby, it becomes their name. It becomes normal and a huge part of their identity, no matter how bizarre. Step back into your own personal time-and-space-continuum and recall some weird names of people you knew growing up. I knew a guy who was the star running back on our HS football team and his name was Shannon. My dad’s name is Dick Johnson and his friends would call him “little Dicky”. [stop it!] I have a nephew whose name is Storm Justice (and I love it!). Have you recalled any you know? Please share…
So with our little baby girl about a week away from being born, we have her name basically decided on and half our family likes it and half doesn’t. Regardless, it’s our kid so we get to name it whatever we want. If you don’t like it, make a baby of your own and name it whatever you want. Some are insisting that if we continue on our reckless name-decision they will call her by her middle name and not by her first. For those family members, I will return the favor! 
Let me share with you her name (derived from the classic piece of literature and the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird, and not from a certain celebrity’s child, mind you):
Scout Savannah Johnson
Your thoughts? Let’s have fun with it…
[Note: it may be helpful to read this out loud or in a whisper as it is more stream-of-thought]
So here it is God, Friday evening and my spirit seems deeply burdened. I’m not sure why. The blog name, A Carnival in My Head, comes to mind as a close descriptor of what I am feeling. Round and round the music of Your love and grace goes, spiraling around in my mind, rhythmically pounding: “This is too good to be true, this is too good to be true.” Yet my spirit senses deep within a voice that whispers, that resonates, that caresses Your love like a newborn infant, saying, “I knew You were this good, I knew my Daddy was like this.” And back and forth, round and round, tugging and pulling these voices dance, spar, engage. Fatherly thoughts simultaneously clash against and speak to Your love. My 2 ½ year-old daughter being abducted and tossed into the child-sex ring…her image, spirit, body being molested by deranged men. The anger. The rage. The pain. The disgust I feel as a father at the thought. How could You love such beasts? How could You, Papa, embrace such filth? How could You forgive such creatures? My daughter—with them!—in the foulest of ways. They must be punished, killed, torn apart! They must feel the pain my daughter felt, have their dignity ripped from them as they did my daughter’s, be scarred forever as my daughter is. And then I look at those men as if I were their father. Seeing my hurting boy, whose dignity is no more, whose ability for love is smoldering, whose image, spirit, and body has been self-molested for years. Whose pain and wounding run so deep that I hardly recognize him as the three-year-old I once held in my lap, the 8-year-old I once played baseball with, the teenager I once taught to drive. He is a shell of the creature You crafted, yet he still bears Your image—dim all be it, but it is there…the image of You. And oh how I long to embrace him, heal him, restore him and remind him he’s loved. And yet he’s distant, alone—he thinks—in his pain. Fatherly thoughts seem to simultaneously clash against and speak to Your love, God. And sometimes it just feels like a mess, and sometimes it just feels so beautiful, this love of Your’s. I look at my daughter being hurt and I look at my son causing the pain and I rush in to rescue my daughter from her pain all the while longing to rescue my son from his. I step between the two of them seeking to prevent my daughter from being wounded and look into my son’s eyes and see his wounds. I violently lash out, throwing my son off my daughter and embrace her while seeing the tears of my son disclosing his desire to be embraced as well. I pin my son down with my fist clenched above his face ready to strike a blow when my daughter grabs my arm, graciously holding me back and reminding me of . . . love. I see the wounds in both my children. And I love them. How can I not? They bear my image and I shared in their creation. Is it the same with You? Is this how You feel? Is it more of a father-child relational thing than a judicial-transactional thing for You? Is this love perhaps the kind that can heal and restore both the victim and the perpetrator, who happen to both bear Your image and whom You created? I don’t know…and yet I do…then again, I don’t. And so the music of Your love and grace goes, spiraling around in my mind, rhythmically pounding, “This is too good to be true, this is too good to be true.” Perhaps it is. If it is true, the oxymoron of a beautiful mess also rings true. A beautiful mess . . . a beautiful mess . . . a beautiful mess, love is.
“Those aren’t tadpoles!!”
(There is a story to this, but you’ll have to request an email from me to hear it. As hard as it may be to believe, I do have my limits of what I will post! Tracy, it has nothing to do with Speedos, so rest assured).
Some in the church think God is at work only in (or through) the church and asks the world to join it, all the while God is at work in the world asking His church to join Him.
…above.
And in the left column, you’ll see a new image to click on.
(by the way, if you’d like to add it—the image-hyperlink “What if the Church was Invisible“—to your blog or website, let me know and I can email you the HTML).
A few weekends ago we drove to the Bay Area for my wife’s family reunion. My brother-in-law, Dave, pastors a church in San Jose and so on Sunday we thought it would be a great chance to hear him speak and see his church. Well, as it would turn out, Dave was taking a break from the pulpit. We were bummed that we weren’t able to hear him. After the service we went outside and I saw two men sitting on the curb talking; one of them was obviously homeless. It warmed my heart to see him there and that someone from the church was taking the time to talk with him. But as I learned the story behind the man, my joy ran even deeper…
You see, the church had been talking to the city officials trying to build better partnership. The city said they would love to support the church more if the church committed to helping in three areas: the environment, the ??, and the homeless. The church agreed. During a meeting where the city officials came to the church to discuss the issues, they came to the topic of homelessness and were struggling to find practical and real ways to help. Just then a man entered the church and interrupted their meeting. He was homeless. Dave went out to talk with him.
The man began telling Dave how he started a garden where the other homeless people could come to help cultivate it and eat from their fruits. He continued to say how he was running into problems because the garden was on land that the Water District owned and they wanted him and his garden off of their property. Dave smiled and asked the man if he believed in miracles. He told him that in the meeting he had interrupted were city officials and church leadership wrestling with how to help the homeless in the city. The man was thrilled and began to discuss the notion of using some of the church’s “back-lot” for a garden. Dave said that would be a great idea and asked if the man would be willing to share his story to those in the other room. He did and Jesus smiled.
Fast forward a few days. Dave went to a little deli that he rarely goes to and sure enough, the homeless man was there. Dave asked him if he would join him for lunch. The man declined at first saying that he wasn’t hungry. Dave insisted and the man joined him for conversation but not a meal…he really wasn’t hungry. The man mentioned that what he really needed was a tarp. So Dave walked over to OSH with him and they bought a tarp. When they were leaving the man asked if he could keep the receipt because the police come by and if you have anything that looks new they ask for a receipt to make sure you didn’t steal it. If you don’t have a receipt, they take the “new” item away. Dave paused a minute and came to the place of trust and gave the man a receipt.
Fast forward a few days. The man came back to the church and told Dave that another person bought him a tarp and that he returned the tarp that Dave bought with him. He said that he should expect a refund on his credit card within a few days. Talk about stereotypes being shattered!
Right now they are in the process of figuring out the logistics for the church-homeless garden (they are located next to an elementary school so they have to see if they would be comfortable having homeless men and women hanging around while the kids were in school, etc). I love seeing churches rise above their needs to join Jesus in his mission of restoration. This is just one example I thought I’d share…
This reminded me of a conversation I was having with myself (I have those often) on my way home from work. You see, a co-worker asked if I went to church and I said, “Well, kinda, but not in the way you might think,” and they began “apologizing” for the way they had been talking, and I said, “Do you think that God loves you any less?”
So this got me thinking of what really are the differences between me and them (I even hate using that language here)? And I had this mock conversation.
“You know what the difference is between me and you?” I asked.
“What?” they responded, thinking of a long religious and stereotypical list.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are made in God’s image, so am I. You are loved by God, so am I. You are forgiven, so am I. We are the same. And because I am realizing God’s love, I want to be apart of what God’s doing all around us.”
See, I’ve been taught my whole life that there are fundamental differences between “us” and “them”. That we are saved, they are not. We are believers, they are unbelievers. We are the children of God, they are the children of something else. We are forgiven, they are not. We are all loved, but it translates differently for us than it does for them (we go to heaven, they hell).
What freedom to know and receive that God likes “us” and “them”.
Or, even better said, what freedom to know and receive that God likes his kids.
Last night was special.
What would cause three grown men
- to spend a year-and-a-half of their lives writing and rewriting books, complete with the deadlines and late nights and early mornings spent glaring at a computer?
- to leave their wives, kids, and friends for a month-and-a-half while traveling to 32 cities crammed in an RV that has a tendency to run out of gas and tear itself apart?
- to grow an obscene amount of facial hair and then shape it into Mutton-Chops?
- to write a, all-be-it catchy, song and then sing it accompanied by a wash board and a trombone played by a non-trombone player?
- to basically make, as Tony put it, arses out of themselves in front of complete strangers?
- to place olive oil in little containers, falsely advertise it as the Balm of Gilead, and sell it for up to $50 (there is a point to it all and you’ll just have to go to find out)?
What would cause them to do such things? One might think, on the surface, to sell books. One would be wrong. After just six shows Mark, Doug and Tony were exhausted. They missed their families. They were thousands of miles from home (except Mark who lives in CA). Those of us who served alongside of them in making the Roadshow happen could see these things, which were clearly evident. But that wasn’t the only thing that was evident. In fact, truth be told, these “things” only made their true motive all the more evident.
See, the Roadshow has the guise of a book tour. But don’t let that fool you. It is only a cover. The true essence of it is three guys who are deeply passionate about Jesus. Who will stop at nothing to proclaim his message of hope and restoration. Who love hanging out with other people who are seeking to follow the person and way of Jesus. Whose hearts beat with an inner God-cadence and have reconciled their fear at the feet of God, saying, “We’ll speak what we hear, regardless.” It was laughter and silence and joy and profoundness and embarrassment and gut-level sharing and music (kinda) and wisdom and friendship all rolled up into two memorable hours.
For me, the whole night (we began at 3:00pm and rolled out at 11:00pm) will be a memory that I’ll recall in my spirit for many years to come. But the things that stand out will be Doug’s recalling of when he first fell in love with Jesus in that theater-turned-church and how it has taken him many years to wind his way through the “tracts” he was given and back to the essence of Jesus, whom he found that night. It will be Tony recalling his journey from systematic theology in seminary to the simplicity of Jesus of Nazareth in the South Dakota Plains with the Lakota tribe. It will be Mark speaking in the raspy voice of the “Emperor” as he recalled moments of love-lived-out in an abandoned bus in the streets of San Francisco, only to be topped by his very passionate monologue about the Kingdom of God is at hand and right here.
In addition to the memories of what took place during the “show”, there are those quieter memories of seeing old friends. Meeting new friends from as far as Tracy. Seeing the joy on people’s faces. Lifting tables and chairs, setting up lights and sound equipment, hanging banners and laying out books, labeling olive oil containers with deceptive spiritual labeling, sharing laughter and a meal with people I love dearly, some of whom I am just beginning to get to know. I am longing for the days that we have ahead of us and am excited—filled with hope—about what Jesus is doing and how he is calling us to participate.
Please hear me. If these guys are coming to a city anywhere near you, GO!! You will be blessed. I promise.
I know what you might be saying, “But it is too far away for me to go.” Ok, listen. They have driven across the entire continental United States in an RV filled with tired, stinky men to come to you, the least you can do is drive to the nearest city to go to them!!
If you can’t make it, I understand. But I am not sure God will and you’ll have to answer to God come judgment day. And without the Balm of Gilead, I’m afraid there will be no hope for your soul (at least that is what they told me in private)…
[Update] In addition to regular comments, if you’ve attended a Roadshow I invite you to comment your own reflections below. Here is Jonathan Brink’s review. John Ohara’s Review.
This has been my observation:
The fruit (or end result) of human judgment is quite often the exact opposite of what was intended by those doing the judging.
Or at least that is what Tony, Doug and Mark thought. Watch and laugh:
Church Basement Roadshow coming to Sacramento June 18 . . .
. . . maybe.
(They’ll do anything for publicity!!)
Every sinful human action has an opposite and equal wrathful God reaction.
…
And we claim the modern era (or Modernity) has had no influence on our theology..
(Thanks Linda!)
I pray that you know in your heart that the Father loves you, regardless.
Happy father’s day!
“What greater force can there be than the One who can truly love in spite of everything. Such force changes people, completely
……….
the love of God is what keeps you up at night, what plunges you into darkness to reveal light. What majesty it is to be love.”
~ Unorthodoxology ~
Wow. What more can be said?
I’ll leave you now so you can re-read those words slowly, chew a phrase at a time, mull over them, savor them, let them sink deeply in . . .
I was looking in my backyard today and noticed all the weeds that have been popping up. I sighed at the thought of going out there and uprooting them. What a pain. Seeing all those weeds got me thinking about Jesus’ words where he taught us not to pull up the “weeds”, but to instead let them grow and leave it to him. [See Matthew 13]
How bizarre and backwards is that? Ignore the weeds growing among us? Don’t pull them, chop them, poison them, kill them … but simply let them grow next to the flowers, in the grass, in the garden, in our yard? Absurd! To a gardener, such a suggestion would be foolishness. I offer that it is foolishness to religious people as well. So why would Jesus say such a thing?
A few reasons came to my mind…perhaps you have others.
The first is that we, as humans, have a very poor track record of recognizing weeds. Our perspective seems to be that anyone who looks or believes differently than we do is a weed. Certain prophets and Jesus come to mind in the Jewish history. Certain reformers (among many others) come to mind in our Christian history. In hindsight we see that the “weeds” we got rid of were perhaps not weeds at all. Our historical tendency has been to label weeds, “wheat”, and wheat, “weeds” and we have acted accordingly, praising the wheat-weeds and getting rid of the weed-wheats. Jesus, aware our proven biases and natural tendencies as human beings, said he’d handle the weeds and gave us the job of loving and serving them. Ugh…don’t you hate that?
Another reason is that it is not our place to pull, poison, chop and kill weeds. Even if we were able to judge correctly as humans (which we aren’t, but let’s pretend) who was a weed and who wasn’t, it is not our job to uproot them — it is Gods. Much like when my son feels it is his role to correct and boss around his younger sister. We simply tell him that she is not his concern and to leave his sister to us, her parents. It is not his role as a sibling to be a parent! But oh how he likes to take the parent-role anyhow.
We’re the same, aren’t we? We feel as if weed-control is our role. Jesus simply tells us that it is not our concern and to leave it to him. It is not our role as created humans to be God. And oh how we like to try to be God (we’ll of course never admit this, but if we were honest, it’s true…at least it is in me). We like to play judge and determine who is and who isn’t a weed and treat them according to their human-given label (which never works out to well for the “weeds”).
The last reason is our lack of trust, or even not wanting to really trust, in God. Our desire to exercise weed-control on our fellow humans reveals our lack of trust in God (again, something we’d never admit). We really don’t want to let go of judgment and give it to God (not that we ever really had it in the first place). What if God declares someone a “flower” who we think is a “weed”? (Funny thing is that our State Flower, the Golden Poppy, is in fact a weed). What if God really loves weeds and tells us to trust him because he knows we’ll get it wrong and raise havoc on his creation? What if God gets it wrong — that is, according to our thinking (theology) — and God lets all sorts of “weeds” into his presence? Do you see the problems trust creates in us? Do you see the questions and fears trust-in-God raises? At least, that is, for some.
For me, I have found great freedom in trying to relax my ingrown human need to judge and take on the task of weed-control. It’s not up to me. My job is to love and to serve everyone — everyone! — even my enemies (whom I tend to declare to be weeds). It is such a relief to let go of a burden I have self-imposed on myself and give it back to God. I was never designed to carry it. And God knew that, hence Jesus’ words.
So now that I no longer have to worry about labeling and pulling weeds, I need to get busy learning from God how to love and serve them.
To both my readers. I have purposely avoided solicitation on this blog, namely because I wanted to wait until the right opportunity presented itself. Well it has. If you haven’t done so already, please read the previous post written by Jon.
Please consider donating something for this, even if it is just a little bit. Perhaps you’re a bit like me where you want to see your tithes & offerings accomplish more. If so, here is a great way to invest in God’s kingdom that is alive and well, today on earth. Jon is a dear friend and I love what he is doing!! Visit his site. Go here to donate.
Also, another way you can help is create a blog post to help get the word out. Jon leaves this Monday, so it will need to be posted this week. Also remember to include the links that Jon has provided.
I cannot thank both of you (my readers) enough. Also, thanks Jon for what you’re doing. Keep us informed (perhaps blogging from the road?)
Sacramento Church Basement Roadshow Website
The Church Basement Roadshow is rolling into Sacramento on Wednesday, June 18th! Consider yourself officially invited and yes, this is an open event so feel free to invite others to join you.
- Date: Wednesday, June 18, 2008
- Time: 6:30pm - 9:00pm (with possible meet-n-greet at Streets of London Pub afterwards)
- Location: Lakehills Covenant Church
- Street: 7000 Rossmore Lane
- City/Town: El Dorado Hills, CA
- Live Music by Will Derryberry
- $10 door charge (volunteer helpers free).
- We are needing 5-10 volunteers to help with set-up/tear-down, book tables, and greeting. Email Jeromy at jeromyj@sbcglobal.net if interested (dinner will be included for volunteers).
- Please see the Facebook Sacramento Roadshow Event. You can also RSVP there as well.
Visit the official Roadshow Site.
Three authors/friends/public speakers hit the road for a summer, barnstorming churches around the country in a cross between an old time tent revival and the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. Speaking at churches large and small, Tony, Doug, and Mark will present a 90-minute show (including a 20-minute intermission) that will combine humor and passion, speaking and video, preaching and dialogue. Audiences will be entertained, to be sure, but, more importantly, they will be given a vision of an alternative Christianity, one that it woefully lacking in today’s world—this alternative is a Christianity of adventurous theology, passionate faithfulness, postmodern wit, and unrelenting concern for the justice and peace that God offers
I used to listen to this song REALLY loud while reclining in my Jeep with its top off, parked on a country hillside in Texas void of lights with a brilliant star studded sky stretched out above me. I would simply lie there with this song repeating and letting the words soak in.
It had been a while since I played it and I stuck it in the other day. The words “But this light that shines on me shines on you and makes everything beautiful, again” just leaped through my ears and straight into my heart in a very deep way. It reminds me that just as God causes the sun to shine on the just and unjust, the rain to fall on all, so too God’s love. Find a quiet place, close your eyes and listen:
Stars, By David Crowder
You should see the stars tonight
How they shimmer shine so bright
Against the black they look so white
Comin down from such a height
To reach me now, reach me now
You should see the moon in the flight
Cuttin cross the misty night
Softly dancin in sunshine
Reflections of this light
Reach me now, you reach me now
And how could such a thing
Shine it’s light on me
And make everything beautiful again
And you should feel the sun in the spring
Comin out after a rain
Suddenly all is green
Sunshine on everything
I can feel it now, I feel you now
And how could such a thing
Shine it’s light on me
And make everything beautiful
And you should hear the angels sing
All gathered round their king
More beautiful than you could dream
I’ve been quietly listening
You can hear ‘em now, I hear em now
And how could such a king
Shine His light on me
And make everything beautiful
And i wanna shine
I wanna be light
I wanna tell you it’ll be alright
And I wanna shine and I wanna fly
Just to tell you now
It’ll be alright, it’ll be alright
It’ll be alright.
Cus I got nothing of my own to give to you
But this light that shines on me shines on you
And makes everything beautiful, again.
It’ll be alright, it’ll be alright.
My wife, Jennifer, is 8 ½ months pregnant with our third child. Her due date is July 4th (Independence Day in more than one regard). She is about to burst and is dying to hold our child (which by the way, is another girl).
Not too long ago we were lying in bed and I had my hand on her belly feeling the baby move. As I did, I began thinking about how strange it must be to have this “other” living inside of you. My wonder ran off in all sorts of directions and I was just trippin’ out at the whole experience. Now seeing as I am a guy and I’ve never had, nor ever will have, a baby living and growing inside of me, I began asking Jennifer some questions. At least that was my intent, but we never left my first question, which was, “Jen, are you constantly aware of the baby’s movement inside of you? Like all throughout the day?”
She paused and thought about it, replying, “You know, I’m not. It is only when I sit still and pay attention that I feel her moving inside of me. I mean there are times when she moves a certain way and it gets my attention while I’m going about my daily stuff, but typically, it’s only when I am still that I feel her movement.”
Epiphany.
How true is that. I mean it’s true with babies and pregnant women and all (or so I’m told by one), but how true it typically is with God as well. God is constantly moving in and all around me. God is here. Present. But it seems I am only aware of God when I slow down, quiet my inner self, and listen, watch, pay attention. Sure, sometimes God moves in such a way that really gets my attention even when I am oblivious and haven’t given God much thought. But typically, it is me not paying attention to God’s movement that causes me to think God is not moving in and around me, than it is God not moving. Does that make sense?
See, God is moving all around me, every day, every minute, in all sorts of ways, in every life. It is during those times when I listen, and watch, and am willing to participate in what God is doing, that God’s movement begins to surface to my awareness. And sometimes, just me feeling and watching and witnessing God’s movement causes me to smile in wonderment at how beautiful and good and kind God truly is.
Which causes me to think back to seeing and feeling my wife’s belly roll around from Scout’s little elbows and knees and hands and feet and bottom and head. Even experiencing her movement from the outside-looking-in causes me to smile in wonderment at how beautiful and good and kind God truly is. How much more so Jen, who gets to share in the beauty of caring for “another” who dwells inside of her and who is constantly moving.
But who am I kidding, there is no way in hell that I would be able to go through the pain of birthing Scout. So I’ll accept my maleness and gladly be on the outside-looking-in. What can I say, if men were given the lot of childbirth, humanity would have become extinct a long, long time ago. (I just realized that this last paragraph has nothing to do with this post. Oh well).
My new computer is here (Thanks USAA!). My backup has been restored (Thanks Time Capsule!). My emails have been read (Thanks 20/10 vision!). My 10 years of marriage has been celebrated (Thanks Napa!). Now only one thing remains…take my blog back—by force, if necessary!
I see how it is. I’m gone for a week and a resurgence (I won’t name any names, but one is a boy and one is a girl) rises to the surface, vying for both of my readers. Well I’m back, and I am publicly asking you both to hand over the reigns of my blog. If not, I will be forced to block—or worse, edit—your future comments.
If you continue to resist and fight, I will say all kinds of mean and nasty things about you on your own blogs.
If you push me far enough over the edge, I will have to say . . . “nee” (Thanks Monty!).
So what will it be?
(Technical Note: If you own an Apple computer, you need to invest in the Time Capsule. Flawless backup and recovery! I would have been in a world of hurt without it.)
…before I am able to blog regularly or comment on your blog; my computer crashed. If you remember what happened about a month ago (read the back story), well, the sugar has corroded my Mac’s thing-a-ma-jinger and the widget-thingy, leaving it for dead. The funeral for Mac 1 will be soon. And yes, there will be an open-casket viewing…
. . . see this with my son on August 18th. The sacrifices a father has to make for his son.
On our way home the other night, I was having a great conversation with my son about God. I told him that there was nothing he could ever do that would cause God to love him any less fully than he does now. To help convey the point, I told him that even if he were to kill me, his dad—(twisted, I know)—that God would still fully love him. He thought about it and replied, “Even if I blew up the whole world, would God still love me?”
Don’t you just love 1st graders? How would you reply?
Here is how I replied. I told him (borrowing from Paul) yes, even if he blew up the whole world (good luck with that), even that would not separate him from the love God has for him. I then said, “And when you stand before God and realize that God really loves you, you will most likely fall to your knees (I know I would), in tears possibly, sorry for what you had done and he would embrace you as his child, whom he loves.” I realized that, yes, even God’s kindness can lead to repentance.
Later, I thought more about my answer and—recalling a certain parable—wondered if God would even run to Caleb while Caleb was still far away and hug Caleb and not stop kissing Caleb.
Now what “consequences” God might have in mind for my son who blew up the entire world—well, that’s between him and God, and is, quite frankly, none of my business. I’ll leave that to God’s loving wisdom.
A few families got together the other night and began having a great conversation about God. On the way home, I was talking to my son about it and he said, “Dad, you guys weren’t talking about God. You were laughing.”
Ouch. At seven, he already has an “image” of God that doesn’t really include laughter and joy.
Thanks for finding this Jonathan. Speechless…
My son and I were having a good conversation about God while driving home the other night. Then he stopped and said, “Dad, can we stop talking about God, it’s not Sunday. We are only supposed to talk about God on Sundays.”
Ouch. What have we done?
As we begin to dream of what a church built around smaller groups that focus on discipleship looks like, the topic of children’s ministry inevitably comes to the surface. What do the kids do in such a church and how do they get their consistent spiritual food? Within this context, what does “Children’s Ministry” look like?
This topic came up between my wife and I during one of Caleb’s soccer games. We were really wrestling with these thoughts, primarily because we grew up in weekly, program-driven children’s ministries. We have great memories of our childhood in church and are who we are today, I’m sure, is in part of all the people who had a hand in teaching us. We are thankful. Because of this, it is hard for us to imagine children’s ministry and discipleship without a weekly program run by paid staff. This is where this post gets deeply personal for us…
Our conversation turned a corner and revealed some deeper issues in us as Christ-following parents. Two issues, which are closely related, convicted us in a very gentle way. The first is what I see as the current role of today’s church, or more importantly, how we view its role. Is it a supplement or the primary meal? Let me explain.
Today, vitamins and other food supplements are very vogue. They were created to be a supplement to our main, consistent and healthy diet. Supplements were intended to be just that, a supplement. But more and more, people are using them as primary-ments. They don’t eat fruit and veggies, so they take supplements. They don’t eat enough calcium or protein, so they take supplements. Now supplements aren’t a bad thing, but when they take over the primary role, well, let’s just say, that is not how we were designed to function.
So back to children’s ministry. As Jen and I talked, this thought arose: If there is not a weekly children’s program for our kids go to, how will they get their consistent spiritual guidance and input? Then the light went on…WE are supposed to be their consistent. It is OUR role as parents to be their primary. The weekly thing is simply supposed to be a supplement (just about every pastor and children’s ministry leader would agree, as would most parents—in theory). But we realized something in that moment, the supplement became the meal. So much so, that it was very hard for us to imagine our children’s spiritual growth without the “supplement”.
The second thing that came to the surface was that we were OK with the supplement being the meal. It was easier for us as parents. It allowed us to delegate our “meal” role in our kid’s lives to others. As long as they are getting their weekly fix, we could rest-at-ease that they’ll be OK spiritually. Then we got really honest. The role as the main spiritual provider for our kids scared us. It is intimidating. We don’t feel qualified. What if we fail? Who do we blame? A deep sense of gut-check sunk in, and we didn’t quite like it.
But now that the truth was being exposed and expressed, we began to envision what the main course could look like in a community that we are dreaming. We began to imagine parents deeply wrestling with their role as primary spiritual providers in their kid’s lives. We began to see us learning together what that looks like supporting each other as parents. We began to envision groups of families traveling together to Mexico to serve the poor and be transformed ourselves, together as families. We began to picture a community where the children were included in the daily life of the adults. We began to see our friends as spiritual mentors to our kids instead of professional staff.
As these thoughts flooded to the surface, hope and peace followed. Maybe we can do this. Perhaps for our context, a more holistic and community-centered “children’s ministry” can be realized. But we also realized that we cannot do it alone. That we need to walk in this with our community as together we dream and draw courage. That we need each other to help see what God is doing in our kid’s lives so we can join in with him.
Here in lies the difficulty. When you have only known children’s ministry looking like “X”, it is hard to imagine what it looks like as “Y”. When all we’ve known is the supplement being the meal, it is hard to imagine the meal without the supplement.
(By the way, the “supplement becoming the meal” isn’t just a Children’s Ministry dilemma…)
- It was clear from the beginning that this should be my role. God blessed Abraham to be a blessing to others, not to simply enjoy his blessing.
- Jesus said, come follow me. Jesus was clearly all about his Daddy’s mission. His life and death modeled a missional life that did what the Father did, said what the Father said. As an follower of Jesus, Daddy’s mission is my mission.
- I have seen missional living heal and restore people. When people believe they are loved and forgiven by their Daddy, it changes their life. My mission is simply to communicate the “you’re loved and forgiven” good news message with every joint, muscle and ligament of my being.
So that’s it. That’s why I am missional. It was clear from the beginning I was designed to be, Jesus was and so should I, and it has life-altering healing potential in other’s lives.
DISCLAIMER: Sorry for such a long post. I hope its massive length did not confuse or conceal my reasons for being missional. I tried to keep it short and simple, but I fear I let my long-windedness get the best of me once more. Please forgive my self-indulgence and lack of self control.
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This was part of a missional synchroblog started by Jonathan. Here are the other participants:
Ben Wheatley—WWSBD What Would Shepherd Book Do?
Bryan Riley—Jesus is the Way and He Was Missional
Jonathan Brink—Why I Am Missional
Blake Huggins—Missional Synchroblog: Why Am I Missional
A while ago, a good friend of mine and I were hanging out in his driveway shooting the breeze when a man approached us on foot. He had very casual clothes, a gold tooth, rags and cleaning supplies. He strikes up a conversation with us, cracking jokes and overall just trying to connect with “the guys”. Then out of the blue, he sprays the driveway with some “magic” cleaner and wipes it with his rag—the result is a pristine white spot surrounded by the dark-grey driveway. He sprays the car tire, wipes it. My friend starts to protest. The last thing he wants is little clean spots sprinkled around his property. We, though laughing with our new friend from Florida, make it obvious that we are not interested in his product. Our friendly salesman then sprays his shoe and a window before we shake him and go into the house. Wow! Was he persistent!!…and incredibly disrespectful.
Fast forward. Our doorbell rings. I open the door. Oh no…they are back. I quickly tell him that I have seen his product and am seriously not interested. He says that was his competitor and his product is better. He cracks some jokes, tries to connect with me and sprays my window. Within a few minutes I manage to talk him down and he leaves.
Here is the thing. If a good friend of mine, or someone I had a relationship with, recommended the same exact cleaning product to me—heck, even gave me a demo—I would probably be using the product today. But when a complete stranger comes to my door, I don’t care what they are pushing, I am not interested. Why? It’s not the product; it’s the lack of relationship and trust.
Fast forward to last night—Valentine’s Day. Our doorbell rings. Oh no…they are back. Jen opens the door and I am sitting on the couch. I hear a man, who peaked through our window and saw our ultrasound pictures on the table, comment about the ultrasound pictures and Jen’s pregnancy. He begins to crack some jokes and try to connect with Jen. I hear him ask if she knew where the baby came from. (Huh?). And Jen tells them time and time again that this is not a good time, she is preparing dinner and its Valentine’s Day. Another man joins in and begins talking about Jesus. Again, Jen says it is not a good time. He hands her a handout and they leave. Same approach, different product. Same lack of respect, same end-game, same result—please leave, we are not interested.
Relationship is everything!! And I am t