Quiet is for Listening

You may have been to one before: a men’s retreat. They exist only for one purpose and that is to make sure we never attend another one.

That’s what I thought, anyway. My church recently claimed that theirs was a men’s retreat for men who didn’t like men’s retreats. They had my number. I’ve never actually been to a men’s retreat, but my experience had me convinced that these were for high-end extroverts and the cheer-led crowd. I have been to a couple of Promise Maker rallies, where we are encouraged to commit to something besides football, beer, and sex. These rallies are usually highly motivational, full of chants and cheers, and peppered with big name speakers. Personally, I appreciated about 20% of the two Promise Keeper events I attended. I figured a men’s retreat would be about the same.

I have to admit that I was wrong on this one. It didn’t carry the kind of life-changing impact that a visit with the apostle Paul might produce, but from the start it was unassuming and humble. The message I got from the beginning was that we were there to hear from God and his Word by taking time to listen on our own, with the group and in worship. I was glad for the intentional times of retreat-within-the-retreat which allowed me to turn off the noise and listen. This is one aspect of our church which I am grateful for. When we show up for Sunday mornings, a retreat, or any other gathering, I know that we won’t be bombarded with noise, heavy church marketing, or flashy presentations.

Christian events are often planned with non-stop activity, with no time and space for quiet and solitude. I spent four days this past week at the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta, GA. Catalyst is one of the leading training and motivational events for leaders in their 20s and 30s.

The event was full of top notch speakers, powerful videos, and lighthearted fun. I realize that an event of this size would probably not attract as many participants with this approach, but I still wonder what it would look like to send 10,000 leaders into an extended time of quiet for reflection and prayer. This may or may not be a good idea for an event of this size, but I can’t help but think that we emphasize noise over quiet in many of our gatherings.

Why can’t the church take five minutes in a service for some intentional quiet? Are we competing for the short attention spans of people who are conditioned to a noise-saturated culture? Are we afraid that people won’t have anything to pray about and think about if we are not talking or singing into the microphones?

Consider how a Sunday morning would feel if we took five minutes out of seventy to simply be still, without any music or talking. It would probably feel awkward at first, but that kind of environment would eventually give our ears and our souls the space we need for listening to One worth hearing.

In Common

Every weekend, millions of people join the social phenomenon known as “going to church.” I am one of those millions. Each week, I attend church as part of a ritual that was established since I was painting diapers in the infant section of the church nursery. It is in my blood and my psyche.

However, lately I have struggled with it. The problem with church is that it is made up of human beings.

Since I am a human being, it is obvious that I am part of my problem. I have a hard time getting to know people, I am uncomfortable in large group settings without one or two people that I know. Having to decide who to spend time with is a burden to me, not a blessing. So much for being a community.

As a point of contrast with my previous post on ethnic diversity, today I sat next to a gentleman from somewhere in southern Asia (India was my guess). It was one of those situations where there isn’t enough room for a one-seat “cushion” between us. He had to sit right next to me, cozying up to my over-enlarged space bubble. He was one of a few people I couldn’t help but notice. In front of me was a balding mid-lifer, at church by himself. On the other side of the aisle was an elderly woman sitting next to a young hipster with an intentionally random hairstyle. It was a small but attractive picture of diversity, and one of the reasons I love our new church.

Indian guy couldn’t sing worth a lick, grandma was slow to pick up any song written in the past twenty years, and the hipster was probably wishing the acoustics were a little better in the chapel where we meet. But as we sang “Just As I Am… O Lamb of God, I come, I come,” I felt connected because I saw and heard in them the same need for God that I have.

I’ll continue to have a hard time getting to know people, but I am learning lately that if I look closely I will see that I am in common with those sitting next to me each week.

That just might give me the encouragement I need to say, “Hi, my name is…”

Red, Yellow, Black, and White

Michael Reddish has again inspired me to reflect on a topic from his blog. Michael and a few committed friends have started a church in downtown Nashville called Emmaus Church. He is asking the question of whether or not the church has a racial segregation problem, and how to fix it.

The point of this discussion is not to decide whether we should try and reach other cultures with the Gospel, but whether or not local churches should intentionally try to attract people with a wide variety of cultural backgrounds. As I reflect on this, I wonder what thoughts Brian Alex would contribute to this conversation, as he and his family are answering God’s call to minister to a specific people group in Estonia? Perhaps he will be led to chime in with a comment (hint, hint).

I’ve never tried starting a church in a downtown area of a big city (or anywhere, for that matter), but I have spent a lot of time in church, including some churches of other cultures and races than mine.

Is it possible on this side of heaven to have a local church body that meets the differing cultural needs of every race? Generally speaking, I don’t think that is realistic. The world is a big place, full of a wide spectrum of languages and customs, so the idea that a church can effectively minister and communicate the gospel to every conceivable people group in their week-to-week gatherings is a little hard for me to swallow.

It’s OK that the Korean church down the street doesn’t meet with us. It’s OK that our church doesn’t try to incorporate every conceivable cultural custom in our worship service. Each culture has distinct ways in which they speak about and celebrate the Gospel. We don’t have to strain ourselves to try and be one of those multicultural churches, just so we can say we did it.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be around Asian, Hispanic, African-American, Indian, Middle-Eastern, or Southern Fried White people. I enjoy meeting and learning from people who see the world through a different hue of glasses. When they want to be a part of our church body I will offer them a huge, loving welcome. When I visit them at their place of worship, I would guess that they will do the same for me.

In my five years on the leadership team of Parkway Baptist Church in Goodlettsville, TN, I saw the difference God can make in the hearts of people who are open to see racial walls come down. We partnered with Christ Temple Christian Center, a non-denominational African-American church in Madison. This was due in part to the initiative taken by people who had a vision for unity. Doug and Ann Hardin were a big part of that, along with the pastor at that time, Jimmy Moore. “Brother Jimmy” was an all white-meat, old-school Tennessee boy just shy of retirement. These were regular folk, who wanted to make a big change with some God-empowered small steps. We didn’t merge our churches into one “multicultural” body, but we did move to loosen the bonds of racial separation and fear.

Based on that experience, here are a few things that I believe can make a difference in any congregation that wants to disrupt cultural racial barriers, without sacrificing the distinctives that make up their unique identity:

First of all, welcome anyone and everyone when they come through the door. Operate in love, not in fear. Then God will send people your way and skin shade won’t mean a thing.

Second, make an effort to meet with local churches who are made up of a different ethnic background. Have the occasional “awkward” worship gathering where you celebrate God using songs and practices from both congregations, knowing that half the group won’t completely relate to half the songs. Have dinner with them, and enjoy one another’s company.

Finally, as you occasionally gather together, listen to the stories of the people. Learn about how they view the world and the gospel. Then when you meet with them, you will discover that you are not with “foriegners,” but with fellow sojourners in Christ, who happen to have different customs.

It didn’t matter that Parkway Baptist Church was mostly made up of blue-collar white folk. We did it anyway, thanks to the vision of people like Brother Jimmy and the Hardins. And even though Parkway didn’t proceed to incorporate a black gospel choir in their weekly worship, something significant was happening to those who opened their hearts: a permanent perspective shift. We were learning to be who God had called us to be, without shutting out from our hearts those who were different.

Reflections on The Secret Message of Jesus (part 3)

Jesus shared the meaning of the Kingdom by using parables. Ever wonder why Jesus didn’t just come out and say it? Why hide the message in stories that sometimes leave us with more questions than answers?

McLaren’s insight into Jesus’ parables helps those of us who have wished that Jesus would have just come out and said what he meant. The benefit of a parable, he says, is that they “entice their hearers into new territory.” He explains further:

With a clear and easy explanation, hearers can listen and achieve understanding and then go on their way, independent of the teacher. But when a parable confounds them, it invites them to ask questions, so they continue to depend on the teacher himself, not just their independent understanding of his words (pg. 45-46).

One of the most important points of this book is that the message of Jesus is hidden, not only in his parables, but also within those of us who follow him, no matter our denominational or political background. It can be easy to assume that my perspective is the only one in which the truth can be found. However, the gospel is hidden in all who are being transformed by the Spirit, even Democrats, Republicans, Catholics, Southern Baptists and Episcopals; each one of us a living parable, full of God’s message of transformation.

So Jesus told about his message with parables, demonstrated it with miracles, and then validated it with his death and resurrection. Is it any wonder that he described discipleship as a narrow, difficult way? I can’t calculate or figure out Jesus’ message completely, but once I accept it, I am brought close to him as my Teacher, my Friend, and my Lord.

————

Though it is a little longer than I think was necessary, I recommend The Secret Message of Jesus. It will challenge your assumptions and put the gospel close in front of you for a very personal examination, leaving you with a desire to let Jesus initiate radical change in your everyday life.

Use this link to buy it at Amazon.com.

Reflections on The Secret Message of Jesus (part 2)

The following is what I am calling the take-home from the book. This doesn’t cover his every point, but these are the things that hit home the most with me.

It sounds obvious to say it, but the message of Jesus was revolutionary in every conceivable way. Why?

First, it presented not just a potential future reality, but a present reality. The gospel was good news for the first hearers because it meant a new way of living, immediately. For those who followed Jesus, ideas about God’s radical new kingdom were quickly turned into decisions that altered the way they did things, not just the way they thought about things. If it was an immediate message for them, then it is most certainly the same for us. Jesus’ message invites us to be transformed now, not just in the someday hereafter.

Second, it was inclusive of people who had not yet received it, a point made obvious by the fact that Jesus often ate dinner and interacted with prostitutes, social outcasts, and other “sinners.” What this means for me is that I am looking at people differently. I’m exploring my social-isms, and have found that they are many. For example, Jesus’ message of inclusion means that God may choose to use me to show the gospel to the segment of society that I loathe the most, whoever that may be. This will require a transformation within me that only God can accomplish (with my participation, of course).

Finally, the social and political backdrop of the gospels reveals that Jesus’ intended not only personal implications, but also implications for our social and political decisions. McLaren says it well in this passage from chapter 2:

“. . . This carpenter’s son from Galilee challenges every existing political movement to a radical rethinking and dares everyone to imagine and consider his revolutionary alternative.” That alternative is the kingdom of God, and “if you’re part of this kingdom, you won’t be blindly patriotic and compliant, . . . instead you’ll be willing to confront injustice, even at the cost of your life. You won’t nestle snugly into the status quo, but you’ll seek to undermine the way things are to welcome the way things could and should be” (p. 17-18).

Secret Message placed the message of Jesus uncomfortably close to my real life. I was reminded again that the gospel isn’t a museum where we look at what is presented and say “ooo” and “ahhh.” Instead, it is a living word, moving through our veins to transform us.

(Part 3 of 3 coming on Sunday…)

Reflections on The Secret Message of Jesus (part 1)

My first impressions of Brian McLaren’s book, The Secret Message of Jesus, were dead wrong. In fact, I must confess that I made some assumptions about where he was headed. Those assumptions tainted my reading of the first portion of the book, because I drew his conclusion before he did. As I previously wrote, I thought the title and initial portion of the book seemed pretentious. However, “the secret message of Jesus” is simply another way of describing the Gospel. I’m glad I pressed on to the finish––it was well worth it. Before I get into a summary of the book, here are a few general observations:

Throughout the book, I got the feeling that McLaren was reacting to something, but I spent a third of the way through trying to figure out what message he was responding to. The only definitive answer to that is “religious broadcasting,” which he specifically mentions as one of the culprits in spreading an inaccurate picture of Jesus’ message. My best guess is that he is also responding to Christian “pop theology” and your basic run-of-the-mill Christian fundamentalism. There were some points in the book where he went to unnecessary effort to point these things out. I doubt that there are any significant numbers from that crowd who are reading this book, so I felt that it was a waste of time.

Fortunately, his cynicism about their message led him to look at the Bible in its historical context. The view he gives into the stories which surrounded the writing of Scripture is what I appreciate most about McLaren’s book. There’s more to understanding the Bible than just the historical background, but it is an area that has been often overlooked in popular Christian theology.

For example, he discusses the idea that the book of Revelation is not primarily a book about specific future events, but is a book about the challenges of the immediate present. The early church was under heavy persecution from the Roman government, and needed a message of hope; hope that the reality of God’s kingdom was the source of their confidence and joy, even when facing death. John’s Revelation provided that hope for them and gives every generation a beautiful picture of God’s ultimate victory over any evil “principalities and powers.”

Because I already agreed with a lot of what he wrote, McLaren’s interpretation of the gospel didn’t feel as ground-breaking to me as it seemed to be to him but I was thankful for the way he articulated it with Scriptural and historical support. It helped me clarify some questions I had about how the message of Jesus was meant for first and twenty-first century people.

(Part 2 of 3 coming on Friday…)

is Jesus’ message a secret?

I’m reading The Secret Message of Jesus by Brian McLaren and enjoying it, even though I’ve not bought in to his every point. I’ve wanted to read one of McLaren’s books for a while now, and my brother-in-law Brad gave me this one as a gift, so I figured I would start with it since it is his latest.

My first impressions started with the title. Upon seeing it I was immediately unsettled. The cover of the book shouted, “Can I have your attention everybody! Brian McLaren is going to tell us the secret message of Jesus. You think you know what Jesus was saying, but Brian is now going to explain what he really meant. And we would still be in the dark if it weren’t for BRIAN!”

I know that takes it a little far, and every author tries to give us a fresh perspective when they write (that’s the point of reading a book, right?). However, his title and first chapter seem pretentious.

The idea behind the title is that the deepest message of Jesus is hidden, only to be discovered by those who “look hard, think deeply, and search long in order to find it.” I hope it is possible to still understand the deepest meanings of Jesus’ message if I don’t agree with McLaren’s every point!

Our relationship didn’t start off very well, but I’m giving the book a chance because I share something important with McLaren. I also have a frustration with the way the message of Jesus has been distorted by extremes in some corners of Christendom. Well-known spokespeople on the left and the right sides of the spectrum have said things supposedly from a Christian perspective that make me cringe. Like McLaren, I think it is important to be sure that more than one voice is heard in the discussion of what the message of Jesus looks like when it is lived out in the present day.

I’ll post more praises or peeves as I go along in the book.
(My next question: Does McLaren want us to believe that Jesus is a Democrat? We shall see…)

weakly prayer – for eyes to see God at church

Lord of the Sabbath,

Today is Sunday, as you know.
It is the day you have made,
just like Monday,
but this day is set apart.

You want us to set ourselves apart
for teaching,
for fellowship,
for the breaking of bread,
for prayer.

It looks good on paper;
it’s the reality that troubles me.

When next Sunday comes
I will gather with the saints.

I think it would help if I saw you there.

Amen

sunday best

Some of my most memorable arguments with my mom during my teenage years were over what I was wearing to church. Growing up in Florida, where the summer days are hot and humid, I especially remember the admonishment regarding shorts. They were never to be worn to church on Sunday nights. I resisted and got away with it a few times, but most of the time I had to insulate my scrawny legs from the eyes of the other attendees.

This isn’t an effort to criticize my mom for carrying on what she and many others had been raised to believe about the dress code at church. Her desire to see me honor God was being played out in those weekly dramas about my clothes.

However, I remember another person asking what I would wear to church if I knew that Jesus was going to be there.

“Wouldn’t you want to look your best?” they asked.

I was always so confused by that question. Why would Jesus care what I was wearing?

These memories of wearing my “Sunday best” beg the question: Must we clean up our act before we can approach God? Are we safe to let God and others see our tattered garments––our weakness and frailty?

The easy ticket to feeling safe at church is to never let them see you sweat… or cry. We could call it the illusion of adequacy, or the effort to convince others and myself that I have very few needs or deficiencies. Too many times, this kind of posture before God has left me numb, not only to my own need for God, but also to the needs around me.

Putting on your best smile, your best dress, and your best set of teeth will not win God over. Sunday or not, God’s invitation is to come as we are.

becoming presbyterian

 It looks like Krista and I will soon be joining Christ Community Church. CCC is a Presbyterian Church (PCA), so that has recently led me to revisit some of the questions of Christian salvation and God’s sovereignty. It has been good to dive back into the issues that can give brain ulcers to those willing to confront them. Instead of trying to post an entire systematic theology here, I just want to list some of the questions that have been on the forefront of my mind lately:

- What do we mean when we say that “God is in control”?
- How does one’s definition of God’s sovereignty account for things
happening in the world which God obviously wouldn’t want to happen?
- How much do the choices of our lives matter?
- Does it really make a difference to pray? In other words, does God do
things he otherwise wouldn’t do when we pray?
- Can a person say “no” to God’s call to become his follower?

Future blog entries will attempt to wrestle with these things. Your
comments are welcome.