More Paradigm Shifts

I went to church this past Sunday at a church where nobody knew me. Just as a visitor…no responsibilities or others looking to me for an answer.

It was really nice.

You notice different things when you’re just one of the people in the congregation. I suppose I was like most folks in the fact that I wanted only a few things out of the service. I wanted to laugh one good time, find something in the sermon that meant something to me personally, and I wanted my children to have a good time. That was it. Yep, I was that guy – the guy ministers complain about all the time: the consumer. But I noticed something by the end of the service. The pastor was trying so hard. I felt bad for him. I’ve tried that hard before. It sucks.

I see arena-style church services everywhere I go. But never before have I been so disillusioned with them. These are the ones where the guy or girl gets up in front of everyone. They all face the same direction and watch Pro Presenter backgrounds. Everyone is trying so hard to engage a lethargic group of people.  I’m personally in a the midst of a radically changing paradigm.  Much of the professional church world is consumed with its own progress. And that progress is most often tied to “nickels and noses.” Money and attendance. In fact, the success touted by many churches over Easter weekend had to do with attendance rather than heart change.

As a minister, I think I’m pretty much done with that game. I have two new goals now. One has to with my job as a minister and on has to do with those to whom I am serving. My new job description is this: to partner with what God is already doing rather than “starting” something that others will find appealing. Honestly I’m just too tired to do that any longer. And for people, my goal is to help them realize what God thinks of them and assist them in doing the ”greater works” that Jesus talked about. It’s not to get them to sit down and listen to me. It’s to help them listen to God. I can’t help anyone anyway.

I’m not sure where that is going to lead me. But I plan to enjoy the journey.

Pay Me What You Owe Me: The End of a “Profession”

I had a watershed moment this past week.

I attended a conference with a number of church planters from around the world. I’m not talking about our average “safe” conference where everybody flashes a lanyard to get in and sits around citing demographical research and discusses the latest Zondervan book. I have been to those and find them helpful. But this was different. These people were planting churches where no statistical data is available, if you get my drift. These people were hardcore. They were extremely kind and accommodating to me. But it became pretty clear that I was sitting with a class of minister far above my own.

One story struck me in particular. A guy had been making advances into a country for several years. Now, when I say that, I’m not saying that he’s got a 500 member congregation and health benefits. We’re talking about four converts in three years. That kind of thing. Hardcore. He was giving praise that someone in that group had invited him to visit again and was going to pay for his travel costs.

Here’s where it gets radical. I said, “Isn’t that a standard arrangement? How else would you get there?”  He said, “No. Normally I have to pay them to have the opportunity to witness to them. That’s why it’s a miracle.” Read that again. He has to pay them.

We send speakers and ministers around the world at our own expense. After all, motivational  speakers and ministers are worth the money right?  In the U.S? Yes. Elsewhere? Nope. In the U.S., the people who are paying are already Christians and deeply entrenched in that consumer paradigm. Outside of that paradigm, no one else gives a rip. A flying rip.

Don’t call me a doomsday prophet just yet, but I believe this is on the horizon in all Westernized nations as well. Many would say it’s already here. Presently, I would venture to say that roughly anywhere between 10-20% of any U.S. city has contact with Christianity and that number is decreasing every day. As it decreases, any prestige associated with the “profession” of ministry will eventually collapse. It’s status as a reputable and viable occupation will cease and (as in other nations) it may bring scorn upon those who embrace it.

Then something else will happen. People will have a choice: they will either wait for someone to fund them or they will spend their own money to share Christianity with others. Right now, ministers and church planters still think someone else needs to pay for their services. But ministers of the future will no longer ask for funding for themselves and their families. They will ask for funding so they can “pay” someone else to listen to the Gospel.

Do you think that’s a radical idea? Let me know what you think.

What’s the Rush?

I have found myself in a slight panic in the last day or so. But it wasn’t the “normal” things over which I might push the “panic” button. It was something weird. Weird enough to blog about anyway…

My panic moments have involved information. Content. And here’s the weird part. I was freaking out about the fact that I had not heard about some particular information. The content actually wasn’t that important or life-changing in the least. But I was behind. Others had received the information before I did and it caused me to freak.

We live in an unusual time. A time where the immediacy of content, not the content itself determines validity. What we know isn’t as important as how quickly we know…or if we are to be honest…who knew it before us. If we don’t know it first, then we can’t capitalize on it first. This used to be the linchpin of gossip. Now, it’s the linchpin of going “viral.” And someone else will beat us to the next great idea. It’s become apparent that the next great idea is also the next great fleeting idea. So there’s little chance that even though we may be first, we will only be first for a short time. It’s not whether you are watching the same video – it’s whether you can download it in 3G or 4G.

This creates two different types of responses in people. The first is mild panic and clamoring to be first. That is what I have felt lately. The second response is the more mature one I think. And that response is “What’s the rush?” Eventually, the immediacy of content thrills us little and the quality of content surfaces again. And we stop clamoring to gain information because we realize that the information is useless anyway. It has no staying power. It’s not quality. It doesn’t speak to anything beyond self-gratification.

Eventually we have to stop clamoring to purchase the new Lady Gaga album from Amazon because it’s only 99¢. The question has nothing to do with Lady Gaga’s availability. It has to do with whether or not her music is worth 99¢ or $99. Does it have staying power? Do any of the items we drool over have staying power? Are we chasing products or merely newer versions of the same products?

I have a theory. If it is quality content, it will still be here once the immediacy of that content is gone. Good things stick around. If that’s true, then what’s the rush?

The Failure of Sgt. Pepper

I love music. And I love the Beatles. I believe it is my God-given mission in life to help my children learn how to play every Beatles song. The girls have heard Revolver and Rubber Soul. Yesterday on the way to school, I introduced my girls to the Sgt. Pepper album. Normally the girls talk and play as they listen to different music. I play them all sorts of things: Sam Cooke, the Jackson 5, praise and worship music, Miles Davis, Muse, Handel, Weezer, etc. But when I put this album on, they stopped talking. Completely stopped.  For them, it was like pouring a painter’s pallette of colored music in their brain. I thought their little brains were gonna explode. I told them, “Some people think this album is the greatest album ever made.” My oldest daughter said, “Yeah, I think it may be.” Pretty astute observation for a 6 year old.

But I love this album for another reason: it’s a half-baked idea that was successful. When the idea for Sgt. Pepper was originally conceived, it was supposed to be a concept album. A few songs are – obviously the opening songs and the reprise. But much in the middle has little to do with the Sgt. Pepper concept. “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever” were removed from the album for a double-sided single. Paul would later say that the album was “a complete thing that you could make what you liked of—just a little magical presentation.” Complete but a creation on its own.  It’s connected in its musicality if not in its inspiration.

To me, Sgt. Pepper represents a beautiful success that rises out of the failure of an idea. This is a great lesson for church leadership. The Beatles had no doubt that they could create a concept album. But what emerged was a collaborative effort that took on a life that was larger than Billy Shears. There’s a primal faith in that decision. Often times in church circles, we feel we must have everything ironed out before we put something into play. But if the Christian life is anything, it’s not neat and tidy. And in the same way, often times the most successful avenues of ministry are those that are concept-oriented but eventually take on a life of their own once handed over to individuals. Parts are successful while other parts fail. That’s really what relying on the Holy Spirit is all about. There’s something that seems right when you can release a project into the hands of a congregation and say, “This is where the Holy Spirit takes over.” At that point, we give God the freedom to weave his own revelation into the nuances of church life. And that’s when he creates “Sgt. Peppers” of his own.

 

Goats, Turbulence, and Community, Part 2

So, more about community.

Beth and I flew to Lexington, Kentucky, this past weekend for a family wedding. We had a great time. But getting there was certainly less than desirable. Our flight from Atlanta to Lexington was routine until about 45 minutes in. Then, our small plane experienced turbulence. Not the normal type – this felt like someone was using the plane as a jack-hammer. That’s when things got really interesting. Suddenly, the plane dropped roughly 2000 feet in 2.4 seconds. Read that again, please…that’s coming up on half a mile, people (we looked up the flight pattern to verify what happened).  Everyone’s peanuts, pretzels and soft drinks went everywhere. Even while buckled in, practically every passenger hit their head on the overhead compartments. But here’s the worst part. The flight attendant was still in the aisle serving passengers. Without any warning, the poor lady was launched like a rag doll straight up to the top of the plane and came down unconscious for about 5 minutes. Eventually, the flight attendant came to and was helped into her seat. The descent was fine and we landed safely accompanied by a string of emergency vehicles. Bumps and bruises and a few lacerations on some passengers. The pilots never told us the problem…but when they opened the cockpit door once we had landed, they looked like they’d seen a ghost.

Yep.  Scary. 

The most interesting thing about all of this was the interactions within the plane itself – the ones between the people. I’m not sure why watching them was more important than worrying about my life (let the pathological diagnoses roll in…), but some really interesting dynamics occurred. A couple of obvious points. 1) Suddenly people were keenly aware of their inability to protect themselves. 2) Neither were they able to retreat from the situation – we were thousands of feet above ground inside a hollow metal tube. 3) Up until that point, all of us were isolated from each other’s life context with little effort to uncover the stories of those around us.

But then we helplessly dropped 2000 feet in the air. Everyone’s story became the same. The crisis occurred roughly halfway through the flight, so we had the final half to process what happened. At first, no one moved. The flight attendant was surrounded by 12 people strapped into their seats. And no one said anything – they just stared at her. When she came to, one generous soul unbuckled, called the cockpit on the attendant’s phone and helped the woman to her seat. He had set the agenda for the remainder of the flight – he risked further injury in order to help out. Once he had broken the ice, that’s when people started talking and asking questions – across aisles and rows in every direction. The cultural boundaries that restricted our interaction with each other were relaxed (possibly demolished) by the common context of crisis. A unique kinship now made communication effortless. Someone asked, “What’s she doing now?” Well, though there were about 40 women on the plane, everyone knew who “she” was.   Everyone’s background for dialogue was now the same.

Just like the goats in the first post, community was built around feelings generated by common experience. Our experience on that plane was a microcosm of crises that make the national news.  Someone took the initial risk to address the context we all faced. Then others followed suit. For Christian leaders, churches respond the same way. Notice that no one gave any lectures on aerodynamics or pulled out the SkyMall magazine. It wasn’t a mental or doctrinal exercise that brought community. Community is visceral, emotional, and (for some) spiritual.

Are You a Christian Rock Star?

I know I start off a lot of blogs this way, but I’ve been thinking about something. Sometimes I notice little trends in the language choices of Christians or during church meetings. And when you add them all up they point to something worth discussing. Lately, I’ve noticed lots of Christian language about the need to do something “special” for God. Christians say stuff like that pretty often. You know, the whole “do something great for God” language. Usually it’s couched in potential ministry or an opportunity that God has especially for “you.”  Do I think God has specific things that he wants us to achieve as his sons and daughters? Sure. But there’s a flip-side to that equation…

I came across a quote the other day that said something like this: “If you insist on behaving like a rock star, just make sure you actually are one.” Humorous, but true. I feel like sometimes we set up Christians and congregations to look for chances to become a Christian rock star.  Opportunities to serve morph into something larger and worthy of more recognition. This is reinforced by Horatio Alger type stories in the Christian world: where the simplest acts snowball into something far beyond the expected results. As if that’s the “payoff” for giving your life to God. This is easy to do with the Bible,too. Sometimes we forget that “rock star” events in the Bible occur with large spans of time in between. Or that each “rock star” experiences countless failures prior to his/her newly found status as flavor of the month. Yet we pull these passages out of thin air as if they have no work ethic supporting them and dangle them in front of people and call it inspiration and vision-casting.

But what I think God really wants from each of us is to live a life daily that reflects him. It doesn’t have to be super impressive. It doesn’t have to be amazing or conspicuous. The Christian walk needs to be only two things: consistent and true. The responsiblity of the Christian is to live life consistently in each of life’s scenarios. Here’s why. You only get the chance to do something for God that will be categorized as amazing our life-changing in life once. Maybe twice. And even then that doesn’t mean anyone will recognize what you’re doing. But if you live life consistently in regards to your family, finances, profession, and relational choices, then you will be in a position to risk something out of the ordinary because the rest of your life will be stable.

If you feel called to be a minister, don’t quit your secular job. Start by memorizing a Bible verse or two. If you desperately want to raise funds for missions, try paying off your credit card first. If you want to be the world’s greatest dad, start by simply leaving the office earlier each night. And if that goes well, then empty the dishwasher without any fanfare. Want to do something amazing for God? Do the basics. Draw your sword, raise your battle cry, and charge up the hill to conquer the obvious and the insignificant.

Are you a Christian rock star? Don’t be.

The Most Well-Known Person in the Room

We live in a society of over-exposure. Information is overly-accessible for anyone who wants to know something about someone else. Yet, on a very real level, we are very closed to those around us. We rigorously protect our feelings, opinions, and personal preferences from those with whom we work and socialize. Why? Mostly because we are afraid of disclosing information about ourselves that will reflect negatively on us. It’s the reason we refuse to offer a contrary opinion in a business meeting, speak candidly with someone at church, or are deathly afraid to update our Facebook status. We are afraid of what others might think.

Now, some people have the opposite problem – they have no personal boundaries at all. They are more than happy to tell a co-worker or acquaintance far more than they are truly interested in knowing. There’s debate as to whether such honesty is appropriate. I read this article the other day that addresses this exact issue. But whether the infomation is honest or not, where is the line for self-disclosure in our society?

I’m going to suggest something radical for church leaders here: be the most “well-known” person in the room. In the secular workplace, they expect you not to overstep the boundaries of disclosure enforced by corporate culture. That’s a good rule to follow. But what about in a church environment? Few things are more important than authenticity among church leadership. People need to know what we are thinking. If you are willing to leverage your power and authority, also be willing to leverage any semblance of personal pretense.

Now, of course, vulnerability through self-disclosure opens us up for criticism. But here’s the thing: you’re going to be criticized regardless. So, the least you can do is provide a foundation of honesty and self-disclosure that helps explain the decisions made and the vision that is cast. And, of course, there are levels of disclosure that are healthy and those that are not. No one needs to know all the details. Also, self-disclosure does not necessarily equal intimacy. You can know much about Tiger Woods (and join the swelling chorus of those criticizing him for his public mistakes) yet never sit down and have a conversation with him. However, becoming vulnerable can allow you to lead from a place of authenticity that moves beyond power structures and politique. And that’s why, though the congregation and staff surrounding you may choose to remain closed, leaders can lead by example through self-disclosure. That’s the difference between preaching with well-crafted words and preaching with your life.

To put a theological slant on the matter, we rejoice in God’s willingness to self-disclose his nature in the person and ministry of Jesus Christ. And that level of self-disclosure constantly put Jesus at the mercy of angry and misinformed people. Yet, at no point did he recoil from that place of vulnerability. In fact, Jesus gave everyone ample opportunity to find something wrong with him and to crucify him for it. I don’t want to be crucified anytime soon, but the least I can do is be personal, open, authentic, and real. And each of us have to take the initiative to do that. No one is going to do it for us. But there’s something appealing about following the most well-known person in the room. You know what you are getting. And that personal vulnerability entreats us to follow the most revealed individual of all time: Jesus.

In Case You Have Forgotten…

When I sit down to write this blog, I have usually been thinking over and over about a topic or idea. And then just blog on it in one sitting without many re-writes. Of course, the typos may have clued you in to this (and I purposefully don’t correct them) but the blog merely serves to get some thoughts out of my head to make room for more. It takes me about thirty minutes. That’s not the most conventional use for a blog – many bloggers post current events links or make cyber-nods to blogs they enjoyed reading. I do that occaisionally…but not much. I am not a hub of information for politics, social agendas, or TV reviews. The point of it all is merely to put thoughts out there that hopefully will mean something to the person who needs it. So, here are some thoughts I’ve been having lately about “you,” whoever you may be:

You are more than your mistakes. Mistakes happen all the time. But to associate your worth and status with the sneer of a socialite or the frown of a co-worker is ridiculous. It’s much better to say, “I made a mistake. And that’s all it is: a mistake. It doesn’t define me.” Swinging for the fence never works anyway. What does work is a purposeful, intention lifestyle. After all, credibility comes with longevity and “stick-to-it-ness,” not necessarily a particular skill set or a level of education. You can always self-educate. Similarly, you are more than your job. Contrary to the old adage, you are not the job.  People who say such things have made an unhealthy pact with their Blackberry to-do list. Also, lack of education doesn’t decrease credibility any more than education gives someone entitlement to elite status. Truth is we are valued because God breathes value into us, regardless of how we choose to label ourselves. You’re not a label or a bank account or a job or a talent. You are worth knowing without any accomplishments, credentials, or clout. More importantly, you are worth knowing in spite of your accomplishments, credentials, and clout.

You’re unique unto yourself. You’re identifiable apart from your spouse, children, and friends. You are interesting as you are – without posturing for self-importance or dropping names. You have inherent value that cannot be “improved upon” by someone else’s approval. Everyone has a story and your story is just as telling, evocative, and inspiring as another. You’re not someone’s hood-ornament, prize, or trophy. You are not an accolade for others. Neither are you a pawn for other’s agendas. Those who see you as those things are trapped in a world of pragmatism and ego. You do not have to feed their need for self-importance.

Don’t be restricted by limitations others place on you.  You can do anything  you want. Now, notice I didn’t say you could do anything you want easily, but there’s no reason for you not to follow your aspirations and dreams. Refuse to associate with those who are comfortable in the world they’ve created.  Surround yourself with restless people who have like-minded dreams. Be unconventional – as Seth Godin says, “The ’heretics’ are the new leaders.” In other words, be the “heretic” who doesn’t follow the crowd. After all, normative is normal…and boring. And when you make choices, make them full-speed. You must make choices anyway. For the love of God, the least you can do is go all out.

Finally, save the best parts of you – your energy, resourcefulness, kindness, and graciousness – for your family. Not the workplace or community, but for those closest to you. Make sure your family sees a part of you that no one else can – reserved especially for them.  Stare into your spouse’s and children’s eyes with more interest and intent than you would give to the CEO of your company or the richest person in your city. There’s more treasure sitting there across from you at the dinner table anyway.

The Best Decision a Methodist Pastor Can Make…

Several weeks ago, I heard about a Methodist pastor who did something radical this past year. Those of us who are not  involved in a plant or an overly contemporary Methodist church work through a number of committees and groups who help foster the growth of our congregations. For the record, I don’t think this is a bad idea. I welcome accountability and input from those I am attempting to serve. At the same time, interaction with these committees can be precarious at best. Ministers must balance progressive ideas with the amount of change they believe a congregation is willing to undertake. Every church has a saturation point. Depending on the circumstances, sometimes that’s not very much. I’m blessed in that our congregation is open to innovative ways of church growth and has done a great job of balancing a vision for the present and future.

Anyway, back to this Methodist pastor. He did something amazing. He put a 35-year-old woman with three children as chairperson of the administrative board at his church. Female. Mid-thirties. Children everywhere. Family-oriented. So, why is this such a big deal? For two reasons, really. First, who is typically in that position in traditional Methodist churches? Male. Mid-forties and fifties. Empty nester. Business-oriented. After all, he can run a business – certainly he can run a church, right? And because of this, many of the programs and mentalities that receive attention by the administrative arm of the church are the ones that meet the needs of that demographic. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course…unless that’s the only ”type” of leader to ever be appointed to that position. This pastor broke rank. He appointed a homemaker. What type of programming do you think receives attention/vision from the chairperson of their administrative board? Children’s ministries. Relationally-oriented programming like small groups. Gender-based accountability groups. Marriage enrichment programs. In other words, the areas most often experiencing atrophy in traditional church environments.

Second, their change of personnel and subsequent programming direction speaks to a truth often lost in contemporary leadership discussions. People, not systems, lead the church. Now, I love systems. I love efficiency and forward-thinking models that anticipate church growth and beat it to the punch.  But in every fast growing, progressive, innovative ministry environment, there is always a charismatic, personable visionary who drives that ministry forward. You can copy Northpoint Community Church…but you need Andy Stanley to do that. Like Mars Hill’s model? Go find a Rob Bell. Like Cornerstone in Simi Valley? You need Francis Chan for that model. All of those churches exist because those leaders were there first. Leadership is not a program or a system - it’s a person. And that’s a common mistake – investing in the system rather than in the leadership utilizing that system. Systems merely complement a well-established vision carried out by someone who is relentless in conveying it. That Methodist pastor changed the game…not when he changed systems…but when he changed leaders. And their church culture is being re-made in the process.

Is this type of change the best decision a Methodist minister can make? Maybe not. But I thought it was nothing short of genius.

The Nuances of Church Leadership

Happy Father’s Day to all!

I’ve been at TFUMC for a year now. I have made two glaring leadership mistakes during that time. I thought I’d share them with you so that you don’t repeat my stupidity. First, a little background on my job environment…

TFUMC is a complex mixture of 1250 members, half of whom adhere to a contemporary form of worship and the other half enjoying the traditional service. The success of both services is a confluence of many factors. Probably the most important one is that both are held in separate locations on our church campus. So everyone can enjoy each others’ company at weekly functions, but the services aren’t borrowing space or creating traffic problems (or any other “systems” issues) for each other. As to my two mistakes: personality plays into different leadership styles. I am a “type A” personality…a nice person (hopefully), but still task-oriented in many ways. However, Methodist churches are generally lay-led and part of my responsibility is supporting lay leadership over those ministries in my job description. In other words, my job is not to do all the work – it’s to support and involve our congregation.

So, here’s mistake #1:  for our first small group launch in March, I did what I assumed would create momentum. We did PowerPoint, pep talks, videos, curriculum advertisements, all directed at a launch date with various models available for those interested (sermon-based to accountability, etc.). It failed miserably. We had about five groups launch with varying attendance. Two of the five waited until after the launch to form through private conversations and emails. If you do the math, that’s little more than a 1.5% increase in our entire membership. An abysmal failure.

Mistake #2: All children’s areas were in desperate need of a face-lift to put us at least on a comparable scale to other churches our size. My first (of three) projects was to renovate an area for the 5th and 6th grade ministry. Rather than laying out the plan clearly, I turned the project over to a large group of individuals, each adequately equipped to participate in one aspect of the renovations. As a result, though the facilities have been updated and we stayed close to budget (very important!), the project took roughly 6 months longer than I had initially anticipated, missing the completion date by half a year!

Okay, so what did I learn from these mistakes? Well, for starters, I became reacquainted with the “nuances” of leadership style. Leadership must be “fine-tuned” to the context, people, and objectives involved. In these cases, I used the wrong style on the wrong project. I over-administrated one of the most “organic” movements in our entire church: small groups. Our congregation connects on a personal level at the prompting of the Holy Spirit. Small groups form out of relationships. That’s something I cannot “lead” anyone to do. Sure, I can make resources available and emphasize the importance of small groups. I can even create a “launch” to highlight that ministry…but over-leading something that organic can be disastrous.   

Similarly, I under-administrated the facilities project by not providing more direction. By not laying out clear deadlines and specific objectives, I left those involved with little structure to complete their task. I should have switched styles for these two events. If anything I should have over-administrated the renovations and under-administrated the small groups. The funny thing is: I’ve been around this mountain in other churches before. I’ve read books warning of the exact scenario I experienced in these two projects. But what works in one church rarely works in another. To me, in church work, it’s often the intuitive nature of dealing with people that makes or breaks a project. And there’s no sure-fire way to predict the success or failure of any project. But it seems that the nuances of  leadership style – how people react to a particular form of leadership – is more central to its success than the specifics of the project itself.