Unexpected divergence

I realized something this morning as I was walking. It seems like the closer I get to God these days, the farther away I feel from my church. What is up with that?

Certainly it's a combination of internal changes in my own heart plus changes in our community. Here's one very recent example. Last Sunday, about 15 minutes before the service began and I was to speak, I heard something which really caught me off-guard. I pushed it aside in the moment to focus on the service, but that afternoon it resurfaced in my mind and turned me a little upside-down. Then I had lunch with one of our two senior pastors on Monday to make sure I had heard correctly and, if so, to express my concern. And, yes, I heard correctly. And, no, nothing would likely be done about it. And, yes, it's a big deal for me. He understood my concern and validated my feelings about it. Then we talked about living in that kind of tension when we don't agree with each other or decisions that are made. And about how that is one of the things we are striving for in our church. Living in the tension. Even if it's over values - not just theology or philosophy or ministry.

Ok, so pause that for a minute and let's go back to the whole missional/attractional church thing. Our church is very much an attractional church - meaning, we put a lot of energy into trying to get people to come to our Sunday morning service. In fact, I would say that most of our resources (time, money, effort) go towards pulling off a great Sunday service. And often we do. Beyond that, we offer serving opportunities for people to get involved either in our church or in the broader Tucson community. But that is sparse, at best. Now please don't hear me wrong. I am not bashing the attractional church paradigm. I grew up in this paradigm!

In a missional church, though, service to the community is not a ministry of the church or a program of the church. It is the church. Everything is focused and expressed through being a missional movement in the larger community. Emphasis is placed on the church going out instead of trying to get others to come in. In my opinion, the two paradigms are 180 degrees apart. And for me, as I've said before, I'm having more and more difficulty seeing church any other way than as a missional movement of people loving God and loving their neighbors.

So as I wonder what that kind of missional church might look like and how it would operate, I often struggle with what church gatherings should be. Should a missional church still meet every Sunday? And if so, for what purpose? And I often think that, for a missional church that is living, working, and playing in it's mission field, a regular gathering should be a type of break or time-out. It should be a time of refreshment, encouragement, rest. A time when we would come together to talk, laugh, cry, share, support, reflect, celebrate and get ready for whatever comes next. But a time of tension? No, I don't think so. There's already enough tension in life. Tension at work, at home, at school, and in relationships. Tension caused by hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, sickness, and death.

As I think about my church trying to foster an environment of differences, to celebrate those differences, and to live in the tension of disagreements - even over big things - I'm beginning to ask myself this simple question: Why? For what purpose?

Again, please don't hear something I'm not saying. I'm not saying we should be a Stepford church where everybody acts the same, thinks the same, or does the same thing. How boring would that be? There will always be differences. But, shouldn't there be some common ground, some common values, some common mission that brings us together and moves us forward?

When I consider what areas in my life are causing me the most stress, the most tension, the answer is clear: my church. How do I celebrate that? What am I missing in all of this?

Choices

I've said many times that I feel like my kids teach me a lot about God. Tonight, I'm learning about choices. My daughter continues to make what I consider bad choices, mainly about how she spends her time. She has eight school days left to bring one of her grades up to a previously established, acceptable level. If she does not, she will be grounded for the entire summer. Yeah. The entire summer. Not exactly how a 13-year-old wants to spend a summer. And she has known this for several weeks. And she has yet to even start her homework tonight. (You'll just have to trust me that we are not being overly harsh or demanding parents. This simply has been an issue for far too long.)

It's 9:45pm.

And my heart is breaking. Kim and I have both talked to her tonight, but she refuses to hear us. With four assignments due tomorrow and a test in the class in question, this may be her last chance. So now I have to start preparing for that conversation that I don't think she believes will occur - the one that goes something like this: "You had your chances and you choose poorly. You are grounded for the summer." She'll be mad. And I'll be sad. She'll yell. I'll cry.

Is this what happens when we refuse to listen to God? When we make bad choices?

God, how many times have I made poor choices and then been mad at you? Have you cried over those decisions? How many times have I broken your heart by not listening to you? I'm so sorry.

Ahhh sleep...

The world is so much brighter and clearer when you can sleep. Since my whining the other night at 3:04am, I have slept two nights with hardly any coughing! And this morning, for a couple of hours - are you ready - I even slept flat on my pillow! Yeah! Can you believe it?

I read once that sleeping each night is a little like dying. Not in a morbid way, but when we lay down, relax, and fall asleep, we are letting go of our alert state of being and surrendering ourselves into God's hands. Our bodies are at rest, and, in fact, much physical healing occurs when we sleep. Then, when we awake, it's a little like resurrection. Our bodies are refreshed (hopefully), and we have new energy and life to face what's ahead. I thought that was an interesting metaphor, but it makes some sense to me. I just wonder if when we die, will our life seem just like a dream? Will the next life be more real and alive than this one, so much so that this current life will seem like a distant memory? Even if it is, it's all we have right now. So we need to live it for all it's worth!

Day 29

I've been thinking a lot lately about the relevancy of the church in our culture today. Our ever dwindling Sunday morning attendance (not only in my community, but in most others I know of) continues to gnaw at my "relevant" nerve. At our small group meeting last night, we talked about the newest Oprah book club best seller, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose by Eckhart Tolle. Oprah and Tolle are doing a weekly webcast on Monday nights as well, and last week there was something like 500,000 people online for the webcast. Is this just good marketing? Is it that Oprah has her name associated with it?

I think it's interesting (coincidental, maybe??) that the latest best-selling "Christian" book was Rick Warren's The Purpose Driven Life. Are both of these huge sellers satisfying some craving in our society for purpose? Are there that many people struggling to find a deeper meaning to life, wanting to be a part of something bigger than themselves, wanting to be happy? And how has the church so badly missed this mark? Do people even consider seeking God for an answer to their cravings? If so, are they doing it on their own, with no "need" to find a church.

Have we really missed the point that badly of what it means to be the church? I read an interesting blog post on this subject earlier today, appropriately titled "So What?" I think Mark is onto something there. As the church, we must find ways to help people right where they are with the problems and issues they face right now. That doesn't mean designing a ministry "program" with five key points that lead to a happier marriage. I think it means sitting with people, listening to people, helping each one individually walk through their valleys and come out on the other side. This is how Jesus interacted with people. He didn't offer a generalized, "one-size-fits-all" approach. His approach was relational and compassionate. "What do you want me to do for you?" was his common question. Not, "Have we got a fantastic new opportunity for you!" People don't need something else to do or some other event to attend or some other activity to put their kids in. People need compassion. People need relationships. People need hope. Isn't this what the church should be doing?

Fifth Sunday in Lent - Passion Sunday

So what about after Easter?

The first Easter morning marked a significant point in history. From that point on, there would always be a "before" and an "after." So what does that mean for us today? Is there a "before" and an "after" for us? Is Easter just another Sunday in the midst of an already overbooked and overstressed culture? Even as Christians, do we mark the significance of the day with a "before" and an "after?"

Before Easter 2008, I was ________ and after Easter 2008 I will __________.

What do you put in those blanks? Is it a day of recommitment? Is it a day to remember? Is it a day for new beginnings? Is it a day, like New Year's Day, that marks the end of something old and the beginning of something new? I'm reminded of something I read from Nouwen during this past season of Advent:

People who wait have received a promise that allows them to wait. They have received something that is at work in them, like a seed that has started to grow. This is very important. We can really wait only if what we are waiting for has already begun in us. So waiting is never a movement from nothing to something. It is always a movement from something to something more...

So what about after Easter?

Awake at 3:43am

You know, I never used to wake up in the middle of the night. Or, if I did, I was back to sleep before I even knew I was awake. And I can't really remember when this started, but it happens way too often now. And I'm home in my bed next to my wife. (Well, not right this minute because I'm typing on the downstairs computer...but you know what I mean.) I understand when I'm in a hotel room in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar lights and noises. But at home? Come on, what's the deal? Is this just an "I'm getting older thing?"

Am I thinking about too many things?

Am I still rushing too much, thinking too much about what I have to do today? (Which, by the way, is getting on another airplane and making another trip to LA this week...)

Am I turning the same things over and over and over in my head?

Is this a reflection of some restlessness in my soul?

Or is this just another ordinary moment?

(heavy sigh)