on being an expert

I've been thinking about my vocational history lately:  I began as a paid youth intern in 1995, taught Bible and History in a private secondary school from 1996-98, served as youth pastor from 1998-2005, was a seminarian from 2005-08, and have been laboring as a lead pastor for the past 2.5 years.  My career has spanned 17.5 years, with five different titles, at four different churches, and in three different states.

So what does this make me?  What am I an expert in?  Ministry?  Theology?  Church?  Lock-ins?  If I were to write a book, what would be my thesis be?  How could I encourage and train other laborers?  On what subject would ministries, churches, and conferences call me to speak on?  I have worked diligently in all facets of youth ministry, with local and international missions/mercy projects, trained adults for church leadership, preached the Old and New Testaments, traveled the world in the name of the Church, and humbly prayed with the sick and sore - but what is my expertise?

Sometimes I feel that my true reality is that I am not really an expert in anything.  So, in lieu of this affirmation, I would love to state that I've discovered the depths of humility and write that my true expertise is floundering in my sin and my only move is to fall prostrate on the floor and beg for forgiveness - but I have not even reached that.  I don't say this hoping that I fall flat on my face and reach the end of myself - though I am keenly aware after two decades of conversing with fellow spiritual pilgrims, that coming to the end of oneself is often the most glorious of journeys.

No, I write this out of a perplexed feeling of averageness.  I love my job, the people I labor with, the saints and sinners of our community, and even the idea of my calling but perhaps after 17.5 years I am at a stage in life where I need to seek particularities for the next season of my vocation.  I remember in 2005 as I was working in youth ministry and I had a bit of a revelation (or perhaps a web of revelations). It was my eighth year in the same community and I was at ease with my job.  I adored my senior pastor, I had a healthy relationship with staff and leadership, I had freedom to do my job, I loved living outside Denver, yet I wondered if this was all that it was supposed to be.  I awoke one day to realize that this was my profession though I had never been formally trained, I awoke one day to realize that the things I felt I needed but could not attain in my context were never going to be achieved, and I awoke one day with an internal, nagging feeling that I needed to let go of the ease of my life and seek a narrower path.  My decision: seminary - that seemed exclusively narrow.  I moved cross country, I enrolled in an academically challenged seminary, I took a break from student ministries, and I immersed myself in the great unknown of future possibilities.  In the end, I was able to come to terms with the internal itch to move to something new - perhaps, there is another itch that needs to be scratched.

God has called me to lead a beautiful community in Southern Ohio - and I want and plan to be here a while - my itch, this time, is not to go somewhere else, but along the way, to take on something else.  Maybe it's writing, maybe it's training, maybe it's speaking, maybe it's opening a much needed coffee shop in town with good espresso and fine pastries.  I don't know.

What I do know is that my expertise is not to be average.  In my first years of youth ministry, I had a mentor who told me that the two worst words together in the English language were "good enough."  I don't want to be "good enough," I want to be lasting.  I want to be stretched beyond being the status quo - and yes, I do realize, that by stating this and posting this, I am setting myself up for something beyond my control.  Somehow in the midst of my dilemma, control has something to do with it: on the one hand, I want to control my future trajectory, on the other hand, I want to let go and rely on the Divine to guide me.  Thus I find myself in what Robert Benson called "between the dreaming and the coming true" - I sincerely hope what is true for me thrives and swells beyond the average, and who knows, perhaps I'll pen a memoir about it someday...

On the Doctrine of Being - thank you Mr. Reznor

I am a fan of music – not just any music, but good music, the kind that transcends time and space and launches the hearer into a sublime setting of being. My spin on music has often been called arrogant and elitist – very similar to my fondness finely crafted ales, Americanos, and films – yet to me, my opinion seems honest and tested. Not long ago I went back and gave a good listen to Johnny Cash’s last album but paid special attention to the tone and attitude of the Man in Black’s relation to the words he was crooning. As he covered Trent Reznor’s Hurt I was struck by the profundity of a particular line: “What have become, my sweetest friend, everyone I know goes away in the end.” I’m sure Trent had a particular reason for that line and if I am lucky enough to have a conversation with him someday, I might ask him what he was implying. Nonetheless, I hear that line and it becomes something to me – something honest and tested. Yet, the “sweetest friend” is not a person but an entity, an institution, a thing –to me, it is the local church.

It seems that we have entered a season where ecclesiology has become the doctrine of choice amongst writers, teachers, bloggers, pastors, tweeters, facebookers, and manic street preachers. Every generation lives in a world where particulars of theology need to be wrestled with, fleshed out, debated, argued, rethought, re-examined, and reconditioned. Life is lived in reaction – the pendulum of thought and action sways from one extreme to the other, always rising to the surface when it is absent in daily life.

I remember as a teenager recognizing that eschatology was keen to the church – youth group was filled with presentations of “experts” back masking Iron Maiden albums and trying desperately to convince me there was subversive, Hollywood agenda bent to turn me into a devil worshipper, Frank Peretti wrote some fabulous novels (or discipleship curriculum – depending on whom you ask) regarding spiritual warfare that scared the nevaluw (read your Hebrew/Aramaic from Daniel 2...) out of me, and evangelism was about asking people, “If you died tonight do you know that you would be in hell?” The devil, demons, hell and Ozzy Osbourne were popular and the doctrine of the end times was the filter to see world. Wait, maybe not much as changed: Ozzy is even more popular in his elder years and Hell as a subject is all the rage – if you believe in such a place…

Anyway, today in 2011, ecclesiology seems to be the new filter by which we process the world. Endless questions are being raised: What is the Church? What is the pastor? Does the Church need a pastor? Do we need a building? Are we better off meeting in homes like the Acts Church? What authority is necessary for Church life? Do we need elders? Deacons? Is it about program? Relationships? Discipleship? Missions? Can we meet online? Do we need to meet each week? Is Sunday the only day of corporate gathering? What are the sacraments? Are they “sacred” or is everything “sacred?” When do we administer them? What about membership – is it needed anymore? Is it possible to discipline anymore? How big is orthodoxy? How wide is it? How deep is it? What about orthopraxy? What are the essentials of our faith? Ought we embrace creeds? What about denominations – have they run their course? What about Independent churches – is it theologically sound to be “independent?” What is “Emergent?” What is “Traditional?” What is “Evangelical?” What is “Mainline?” What is “Liberal?” What is “Conservative?” And what about all those loud voices in our world: TV preachers who want your seed money, conservative radio hosts who want you to believe there is no room for social justice in the local church, liberal bloggers who want you to quit the church– take your ball and go home, pastors who rethink the reality of hell, pastors who gossip about pastors who rethink the reality of hell, Christian radio that supports positive and encouraging expressions but leaves little for those who are hurting or lamenting, and a myriad of other noises, voices and trumpets.

Church by definition, according to the Greek term ecclesia, is rooted in the gathered assembly and the Acts 1 and 2 church seemed to get that much. The line in chapter two that stumps me is the idea that they had everything in common. I’ve raised that profound ideal in groups and wondered aloud if it is possible to have all things in common. The literalists speak confidently that it is not literal and seek some understanding that allows their “type A” brains to maintain while the idealists dream of utopian communities where the “common” is not an ideal but an unmoving norm. Either way, the “common” becomes very uncommon. Yet even as I write these words I long for a better answer. Perhaps the idea of “assembly” is the foundation of having ALL in common, because it is only in the plurality of the assembly, that the “all” in its inherit plural form, can live, breath and find its being. To me, the great attack on ecclesiology is not from the outside, but by those who remove themselves from the “all” and try to live it independently of one another – where one group tries to live without the other, where one group draws the proverbial line in the sand and lives as a divider of God’s people, where one group determines who is on what team – as if it were a cheap game.

Ecclesiology needs to be centered in humility and optimism – two character traits inherit to a fully functioning assembly. Without humility and optimism we are left with arrogance and trite criticism. What if all church leaders spent 2012 seeking humility and optimism for their communities – how different would our churches look? Yet, you and I both know that will never happen. Didn’t you know, it is nearly impossible to get the “All” to center on anything in common – that seems to be true and tested…and in the end, she seems to just go away - the sweetest friend.

the last day of vacation

The last day of vacation is always the worst. On the one hand, you don't want the trip to end because you are enjoying the rest, the pool, the grand canyon, and the drinks with the little umbrellas in them. Yet, on the other hand, your mind is already back home contemplating work, the messy house, and the pile of details that have collected in your absence.

I planned on reading more this vacation but I have not. I planned on writing more this vacation but I did not. I planned on planning more this vacation but I resisted the urge. Instead, I shut down and stared out the window - and what a beautiful view it was.

Outside the rear window of my parents home in Mesa, AZ is the gorgeous view of Superstition Mountain - which was topped with fresh snow just a few days ago. It is truly a marvelous backdrop to your morning coffee. We visited the Grand Canyon which is beyond spectacular. I've now visited this National Park a half a dozen times and it never gets old. I am overwhelmed with the intensity of color, depth, size, and the awe inspiring creation of my Creator. We visited a local church a good friend of mine planted nearly six years ago and I was moved by their gathering, their focus, their commitment to celebrating, their staff and their vision for their local city. However, the best view I had was of my children. We played, we laughed, we sat, we snuggled, we swam, walked and we remained interconnected.

Superstition Mountain looks lovely this time of the morning but it is time to return home. Much as been recharged, much has been shut down, much as rested, but it is time to head back - I think my mind has already begun the journey home. See you on other side...

the risk of originality

I know it's hard to be original
In fact nothing scares me more
Because Jesus only lets me do
What has been done before

Sometime back, David Bazan (of Pedro the Lion and Headphones ilk) penned these interesting words in his song, "Selling Advertisement." Being original, if we are honest with ourselves, is a terribly lofty goal - I mean, honestly, discovering that thing, that idea, that thought, that movement that has yet to be displayed in the human race is impossible. Even as I write this, I seem to be channeling my inner-Nick Hornby, my inner-Rob Bell, and/or my inner-Dave Bazan for style, rhythm and content. Thus, writing about originality is not very original.

Being original is scary. Being belly-deep in that status quo is safe. Seeking the "new" or the "fresh" means that you have to embrace the width and depth of common thought (which is often narrow and shallow) to discover a missing or neglected component and pressing it for understanding. It's scary because the risk is unknown. Many will question its validity (Is this true?), others will question relevance (What does this have to do with me, here and now?) and some will question the motivation (What is he/she trying to do or prove?).

As one who spends a great deal of time reading and teaching the Scriptures, I find originality both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because the sacredness of the text, the depth of the text, and the art of preaching drive me to place of radical understanding and faith and I desire that the community taste and see that. It's a curse because some do want to go there - regardless of self-awareness, the status quo is safe and easy to swallow.

I've spent the greater part of fifteen years laboring in the local church as a pastor, listening to peoples stories and questions, reading and teaching the Bible, and seeking understanding around every corner. Along the way, I've observed a few things: 1) I am not always satisfied with what is on the surface - I want to know the story beneath the story and the story beneath that story. Deep within lies life beyond the status quo - it takes a great effort to get there but the fresh taste is remarkable. 2) There are others out there who want the same thing. They have listened faithfully in the pews for a lifetime but sense there is more to the narrative than three points that all start with the letter "s" and poem discovered by the preacher in last months Guideposts. They recognize the profundity and complexity of life and their palates are desiring foie gras in an institutional world muddled in dry Cherrios. 3) Finally, there are others who struggle with change. The "new" or "fresh" is fine every now and then, but why fix what is not broken. Being original can be perceived at best as being pedantic and at worst being egotistical. Thus, the originator must decide whether or not the risk is worth it and note whether or not their skin is thick enough to take the comments, the critiques, and the whispers of doubt.

The Scriptures have much to say about this topic. For example, the Qoheleth reminds us that there is nothing new under the sun which ought to inform us that there is nothing truly original - with some focused research, it can always be traced to another, in another time, in another context, with other results. In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul spoke eloquently to his young prodigy Timothy, when he wrote that a time was coming when people would desire to gather teachers who would teach them what they wanted to hear to appease their itching ears and who would be willing to set aside truth for myth. Maybe this is what David Bazan was getting at: 1) being original means that you might not be what they want to hear and 2) we only do what Jesus lets us do (since he allowed it to be be done before).

Being original asks tough questions - here are some: 1) will there be others with you?, 2) is it worth sacrificing the rest?, 3) is that the role of the teacher?, 4) is this about faith seeking understanding or is this about you and your personal agenda?, 5) do you have thick enough skin to endure? The world seems to be teetering between the common and the new. Pressing to be original is scary - the easy route is to simply wade in the pool of the status quo and avoid risk even when you know you'll never swim outside the kiddie end of the pool. But really, you never really swim in the shallow end, you stand and walk. But are you swimming? Swimming is the act of taking your feet off terra firma and doing the unnatural. Perhaps that is the definition of being original...

is blogging relevant?

does anyone blog anymore? i was in a conversation the other day and a friend noted he was reading a blog and was impressed with a perspective offered by this author. i remembered that i had a blog at one time that was an opportunity for me to journal, reflect, and critique my vocational journey. however, upon taking a job as a lead pastor, i neglected my blog and have let it sit still in cyberspace and collect cyber-dust. i just logged in for the first time in months and to my surprise - it was still there...like a neglected toy in a child's basement: dirty, dusty, limp, lifeless.

i don't know if anyone reads this blog anymore nor do i know if anyone blog's anymore. i suppose i could search that question via google magic but i am not sure my return would inform me. i know that there are blog's out there, my question is, is this form of communication relevant anymore?

i had a grand idea that i ought to resurrect this site for those in my community so i could communicate during the week on what i am reading, studying, preparing, contemplating, watching, etc. and this could be useful/helpful to those in the community as they seek to center themselves in the Lord via community. is this a valid thought or does it seem rather 2005? i post this wondering if anyone will respond or are my followers much like this site: abandoned.

grace/peace

mike

why do we do what we do???

why do we do what we do? it seems to me that we stretched ourselves so thin, added too many appointments in our day, and altered our diet and sleeping patterns so that we end up exhausted, confused, and behind. functioning as the lead pastor of a local community has informed me i am failing at this - as if i thought, it would solved by taking this job. it's not that i'm falling apart each night and dragging myself around until i slump over a couch, no, it's more that fatigue (along with this heat and humidity) have taken its toll. in the evenings when i am "home" and away from work, i find my mind wandering, debating, and searching for solutions to problems in the community.

i find myself coming back to a sermon i preached in february re: sabbath rest. i noted that refusing to rest means that you do not trust that the Lord knows what He is doing nor do you trust that He is protecting you. when the psalmist wrote, "unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vein who build it. unless the Lord guards the city, the watchman stays awake in vein" (127), he recognizes the infinite movement of the Lord and the finite fragility of humankind. thus, i am being reminded that Yahweh is building His kingdom and guarding His city and i don't need to carry that burden.

gone but not (totally) forgotten

forgive me father (and mother, sister and brother) for i have sinned - in my case it is the sin of neglect or at least, ill communication. it has been nearly four months since my last blog entry and to be honest, i have not had the overwhelming desire to write anything. in the past month a few people have asked me about my blog and why it has run stagnant and i explain that i have been busy writing my novel and i have begun another book on dignity, identity, and electronic drums. i've enjoyed the writing process as it involves much pondering, writing, note scratching and reading authors that impact my style (i'm neck deep in anne lamont and nick hornby). i don't think this blog is dead but i wonder if i'll keep with it each week - perhaps if my vocational enterprises change in the next few weeks or months, i'll stay with this as a discipline but i am not making any promises. it's probably why i rarely change my facebook status or have dove deep into the twitter black hole. for what it's worth, i felt i needed to explain my absence from this forum, but i also want you all (at least 5 or 6 of you) that i have not entirely forgotten you...