"Me, too"

Wherever we find ourselves on life's journey, there are some powerful words I believe we all long to hear. Hearing them lately has reminded me of why. It first happened during a recent night out with other moms. I was introducing myself and sharing a little about our recent move and about how Kevin was still working in Atlanta. When I was finished, two of the women seated around me commiserated, sharing about their situations. One woman's husband is in the military and he gets home every 6 months (talk about getting a little perspective!) and the other's husband has to work very long hours. In the midst of listening to them share, I felt less alone. It was as if upon hearing my story, they were saying, "yeah, me too."

It happened again today when I ran into two ministers that I first met a couple of months ago. They asked me what I had been up to and I replied that I was still gathering, learning, and discerning for this new church start (they could probably hear the impatience in my tone!). They said, "us too." Although they are not starting a new work, they shared how their ministry is always a work in progress. It made sense to me and it also made me smile. Yeah, them too.

I guess the power in "me, too" is the subtle reminder that we are not alone. Somewhere deep down we tend to think we are the only ones experiencing heartache and impatience; however, "me too" reminds us that we are in the company of fellow strugglers who also feel, think and experience the ups and downs of the journey.

We need bigger tables!

I have been spending a lot of time at the table lately, dining and drinking coffee with friends I am meeting along the way. It has only reinforced the idea that good food and conversation are the perfect way to form new friendships (no comments needed from those friends who are always harassing me about how strenuous this new work must be for me!). I am finding that given the opportunity, we are all longing to engage in meaningful relationships and to find a place where we experience genuine acceptance.

Yesterday, I met a woman for breakfast who shared her altered perception of God with me. We had never met, but spent a couple of hours exchanging life stories. Although she grew up in a fairly conservative religious tradition, her life's experiences had taught her that God could not possibly be confined to the limited view that was so often expressed through those in her church. While many describe themselves as spiritual, but not religious, she claimed that she was neither at this point in her journey. Then she made this powerful statement:

"I do imagine [however] that there is a Being that holds the world together and keeps us all from killing one another."

When I consider what it means to re-imagine the church, I suppose what it really means is "re-imagining God". For so long, we have allowed God to remain confined to the patriarchal imagery expressed in scripture as "Father", "King", and "Lord". While these images do convey attributes of God that are timeless, they are also limited to the ancient context in which they were first used by God's people. In other words, when we refer to God as "King" today, does that truly communicate and confess our faith in God? or by focusing too much on how people have experienced God in the past prevented us from honoring how God continues to be revealed to us today?

I think that what this new friend of mine was saying is that 'my life experiences have led me to imagine God differently and I no longer find that I fit into the church'. I can't help but wonder just how beautiful a community of faith would be if we held up not only scripture and tradition, but human experience as a valid way of talking about, worshiping and serving God. As I re-imagine the church as an inclusive community that follows Christ in seeking to love God and love neighbor, I pray that it will truly be a place where we can bring all of who we are to the table...a place where we can talk about God in ways that reflect not only an ancient perspective, but in new ways that express how we see God working in our world today.

I could not agree with this woman more - surely there is One who holds it all together!

May the One who created us all be more fully made known as we each find our place at the table!

Blogging about a fast from words (yes, I recognize my hypocrisy)

The words “conversation” and “dialogue” are very popular these days. I find myself saying them more often than ever to communicate the way I’m engaging in relationship and welcoming another’s perspective. I like these words because of the openness they communicate. Words can be very powerful; however, I kids myself if I believe words alone are enough.

I am reminded that words are not enough when I read this passage from Isaiah. Written to a people who often used words to complain, to worship, to recite laws and to pray, the challenge set forth in these verses is nothing less than a call to move beyond speech and engage in action. Isaiah 58 says,

3“Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress allyour workers. 4Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. 5Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? 6Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? 7Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? 8Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. 9Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, 10if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. 11The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. 12Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.

When we do share “conversation” with others (and I’m talking about going beyond ‘hey, how are you?’), we discover that we all have parched places. We are all in need of healing, and according to this passage, our healing only comes when we seek justice on behalf of all who are oppressed. Let’s be honest, although we talk a good bit about wanting to move toward healing, we DO little in the scheme of things to make healing a reality. Words, it seems have become our “fast” from action.

Every day we hear stories of oppression. We hear about racial and economic discrimination, we take note of the loss of innocent life resulting from violence on our streets and in distant lands, we read about women caught in sex trafficking, and we listen to stories of how ridiculed homosexuals are killing themselves rather than endure further alienation. Yet, it seems at times that we as Christians spend more time talking about these realities, arguing bout our differences and celebrating what we have in common than ever acting on behalf of those who are naked, homeless or hungry (physically and metaphorically).

Words are not enough. We do not have time to argue over whether or not yoga is an acceptable Christian practice or which denomination gets it right, we must break the fast of inactivity and enter into a movement of anti-oppression. Only then will our parched places be satisfied, our streets be restored and the glorious light of God break forth like the dawn.

Important reminders

Today has been a day of somewhat strange encounters, and the day's not over yet. I began my morning with a much needed run (which I must confess ended in a walk). While cooling down, a woman walking her dog approached me and began a conversation. She was very curious about me, our family, how we went about renting our home and she asked me a bazillion questions. Because I began my day with a reading from The Attentive Life, I recognized the importance of paying attention, and instead of giving a quick hello, I engaged in conversation. When I told her I was a minister, she looked somewhat amazed and said in a very naive tone, "huh, you don't hear of many women ministers, do you?" I loved her curiosity, her expressiveness and her friendliness.

Another encounter was with a man suffering from dementia. During our conversation, he reminisced about his career and life as a minister and he kept referring to people by their race (i.e. "the blacks" and "the whites"). A black man now in his 80s, he recalled with pride his ability to cross racial boundaries to minister to and with white folks as well as black. He made several comments about how our churches should be more racially diverse, and he ended our visit by telling me that whatever I was setting out to do, it was going to happen (and he said it with great confidence!).

I love days like today, days when I am free to enjoy encounters with people unlike me, yet so much like me. So often I am too hurried to notice, attend to, or value each encounter in a given day. Today, instead of being preoccupied with thoughts of how/when/why of church starting, I lived in the moment. It's so easy to get carried away by allowing anxieties and concerns about the future to keep us from being present, but there is too much at risk by living this way. I would have missed out on a reminder that while the issue of women in ministry is important, it is inconsequential to the lives of most of the people walking through my neighborhood (duh...). I also would have missed an important reminder that longings for racial reconciliation are innate and powerful - so powerful, in fact, that they penetrate through the cob-webbed thoughts of an aging black man struggling with dementia. Sometimes I need a little perspective, and sometimes I also need to hear words of assurance (if even from a stranger) that, yes, with God's help, I can do this.

It's worth the conversation

Avoidance is not the best way to deal with conflict. I have learned this lesson again and again. Unfortunately, many times this is the way we deal with conflict in our personal lives and in our churches. I'm sure that uncertainty over the outcome, concern over job loss, and fear about "rocking the boat" are some of our motivations for going about business as usual. Sometimes, though, I think we just do not want to face reality.

What might happen in a church if the community admitted that we have gotten off course? that we are not really fulfilling our mission (and in some cases doing just the opposite!)? What might happen in the larger Church if we had to answer these same questions? As painful as it may be to express our struggles, experience and experts tell us that we would reap rewards. This week, I ran across the Eighth Letter, an approach to addressing the challenge we face in being church in our day. Twenty-five authors/leaders will be presenting letters written to the North American Church with what they perceive to be the most urgent message the Church needs to hear. Here is one example written by Rachel Held Evans. The organizers of this event have expressed that their intention is to "bring together people and ideas in the hopes of being a contributing catalyst for something beautifully kingdom." Judging by my limited interactions with a few of them, I believe they are seeking to bring healing and hope and not to simply foster further anti-church sentiment.

I am not sure if this is the best way to begin healing, but I do believe that expression of pain, hurt and disappointment are a necessary step in any type of healing process. We must first admit and address the problem. In The Prophetic Imagination, Walter Brueggemann writes,

"The task of prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord." (Brueggemann, 45)

What might happen if we engaged our prophetic imaginations? If as citizens, friends, Jesus-followers, employees and church members, we refused to pretend that problems do not exist? What if we gave speech to the injustices, fears, doubts and conflicts we faced...and allowed it to serve as a catlayst for something beautifully kingdom? It is my hope that whether it is through a letter-sharing exercise, a much needed one-on-one conversation, or a church business meeting, that we will risk ourselves to deal with conflict in a way that brings healing and leads us to a fuller confession of God as Lord.

On llamas and leaving church

I've been amazed at how quickly our girls have adjusted to a new school and how quickly they have developed new friendships. Last night we hosted a slumber party for our oldest daughter and several of her new class mates. This tight-knit group of girls met at the beginning of this school year and seemed to form an instant bond. They began calling themselves the "llama club", and one of the gifts Alyce received at her party was a llama t-shirt. I'm not sure what prompted this rather unique group identity, but I am sure that they are each enjoying their new found sense of community.

It seems that we all have an innate desire for community. From birth on, we are looking for love and acceptance from parents, friends, and school mates. For some of us, this means desperately trying to fit in and for others it means choosing to identify with those on the fringes of society (those who say they are rejecting conformity, yet find themselves in a community of non-conformists). In either case, we are seeking a sense of community and a place of belonging.

For many Christians, the church has been that place. It was not only the place where people of faith learned and served, but where we ate, sang, and gathered together with friends. In fact, it was this strong sense of community that enticed non-church goers to give it a try. I have heard and experienced the power of the church community offering comfort, encouragement, accountability, and acceptance to people who might have never known those gifts. Yet, as I listen to many stories of those who have chosen to abandon the church, I hear of another side to the Christian community. It seems that instead of offering gifts of love and grace, experiences in some faith communities have gifted people with overwhelming shame, alienation, and a conviction that there is nothing "Christ-like" about the Christian church at all. Their response: leave church.

What type of experiences would be powerful enough to cause someone to leave a beloved community of faith and to abandon church altogether? Here's what I'm hearing:

• After my dad died in a car accident, the church did not know how to deal with my mom as a single mother. I realized the church was not who they claimed to be.


• My wife and I grew up hearing about what terrible people we were...all we ever felt was guilt and shame. Who needs that? We consider ourselves "spiritual" people, but have not darkened the church doors in a very long time.


• My mom was divorced and that was looked down upon in our church. When I saw how she was treated, I decided church was not for me.

These are just a few examples. Although I realize that sometimes our expectations of community can be unrealistic, it saddens me to think that a community founded on the life and ministry of Jesus Christ has left this mark on people's lives.

The recognition of the power of community has prompted some recovering church-goers to form an online friendship that seems to be a source of healing. Communitas Collective is full of shared stories of pain and struggle, but also of hope and re-imagination. Although many people have left the institutional church, they are seeking ways to follow God AND they are still seeking community. If you've never visited this site, I encourage you to visit and listen to the conversation that's taking place. I am encouraged by the honesty, the vulnerability and the passion that I sense among this group. It makes me wonder what would happen if churches today would dare to ask their neighbors who have left the church "why?". Perhaps then we would have the opportunity to listen, to begin to heal and to imagine our future together.

"The truth of the matter is ..."

I am really excited about some conversations I have had with friends, neighbors, business-owners and ministers about this new church start. I have received many new ideas, unique perspectives and thoughtful advice. Because I love hearing stories and recognize the importance of hearing from a variety of perspectives, this has been a very exciting time. It's great to meet new people, to hear words of affirmation and to hear how this new faith community could be an asset to a community; however, I also recognize that those things can also become a distraction from the central mission of church planting.

One of my favorite people in the world used to preface what he would say with the words, "The truth of the matter is...". When he said this, you knew he was about to say something really important, kind of like "here's the bottom line, folks." I've been thinking about the truth of the matter as it relates to my calling to plant a new faith community. As much as I love fostering relationships, the compelling motivation for church planting is not forming a social network (although I believe Jesus did do this). As much as I love hearing stories of pioneering people who are revitalizing a neighborhood, the compelling motivation for church planting is not to affirm the renewal of a community (although I believe that Jesus was all about renewal). To use a line from my former pastor and friend, Dr. Jack Snell, "the truth of the matter" is my desire to participate in helping the gospel take root in people's lives through the formation of grace-filled community. It is my hope that as this faith community takes shape, it will not only help transform a neighborhood, but that it will be committed to making disciples who are passionate about loving and serving God and neighbor.