Extra, Extra

In addition to this blog, I also write the every-other-week "Buzz" column for Christian Standard and I compile news tidbits for the weekly CS enewsletter.

Once in a while I find more than enough material for both assignments, but most weeks I'm hustling to find good up-to-date stories about unusual or innovative ministry.

That's not because our churches aren't doing creative things--it's because we're so darn independent and it's hard to find out about them other than word of mouth.

So if your Christian church or church of Christ is breaking new ground in some area or doing something original, please drop me a line at buzz@standardpub.com. It doesn't have to be "big," however you define big--it just needs to be interesting or different.

I look forward to hearing from you, because I'm about 38 weeks late on my current deadline.

At dinner with some friends this weekend, one of them described the guy she’d just started dating. He was raised in a Christian home but no longer attends church or “practices” any faith. My friend likes him and plans to see him again but she’s also approaching it casually; she realizes his lack of faith is a major issue.

Whether or not she should date a non-Christian at all is a whole other discussion. In his book How to Find a Date Worth Keeping, Henry Cloud asserts that dating unbelievers is fine if you approach it as a way to make new friends, have fun, and grow as a person. As someone who dated and subsequently did the love and loss routine with an atheist, I would argue the opposite point of view.

But wherever you land on that, the point is she’s dating this guy (let’s call him Jack) because even though she knows dozens of Christian men her age at our church, not one has ever asked her out. And before you ask—yes, she is smart, attractive, outgoing, and generally “together.” So are my other single friends, many of whom struggle with the same situation. Why the dating drought when it comes to Christian men?

I obviously can’t speak for the men, but based on the statistics I’ve read it doesn’t seem they lack interest in marriage and family. The majority of single men—believers and otherwise—say they hope to marry and raise children.

Yet many Christian guys don’t date—they lead Bible studies and singles events, they pray for a wife, they attend group activities for years on end, but they rarely exert a little energy or spend a little money to know any woman individually.

Nothing’s wrong with groups, but Jack didn’t wait for verification from five buddies as to whether my friend might be interested in him. He initiated conversation with her, expressed his interest, and took a risk.

God created men to be initiators, so this kind of assertiveness gets our attention. My friends and I are strong women, but we refuse to usurp that role and act as the pursuer. If our Christian brothers won’t, either, what’s the new strategy? My friend summed it up well as we finished our coffee. “I don’t know what will happen with Jack, but it’s frustrating to have few alternatives. I guess we’re just supposed to be ‘waiting on the Lord.’ Okay. We’re waiting…...”

I’m really not trying to be down on men here. I know it’s hard to take those kinds of risks, and I know women can be confusing and contradictory. But I do believe that, despite the difficulties, God created men to step up and take action in every area of their lives—which includes “finding a wife” (Proverbs 18:22).

Guys, we don’t expect you to quote poetry or be able to benchpress your car. We just wish you’d spend a little less time reading Wild at Heart and a little more time living it.

My ideal worship service

In my family we like to remind each other, "It's not all about you." That’s especially true in the area of worship preferences. Today five very different generations are trying to worship together as one church body, but even if we all enjoyed the same music at the same volume, it would not be about us—“praise and worship” on Sunday mornings and the lifestyle worship of every other moment are always about God.

Having said that, I still occasionally think how different the weekly gatherings would be if I were in charge…..
• The preacher would speak no more than 10-15 minutes at one time. He may deliver a 40-minute sermon (preferably 30) but it would be spread throughout the service. Depending on his topic, the intervals between the segments of his message might be opportunities to practice what he’s preaching—by praying alone or in groups, by meditating on Scripture, by confessing, by singing, by giving financially, etc. Video testimonies, movie clips, or other visual teaching tools might be used, too.

• The sermon segments would end while the congregation still wants more, not when they are praying the preacher will sit down.
• The sanctuary in the simple, chapel-like 19th-century building would include wooden floors, white painted walls, maybe a little stained glass, and comfortable chairs. Sometimes we would gather in darkness lit by candles, sometimes in a large airy room filled with light. The seats might be arranged in the usual theater seating, in one or more large circles, in small clusters around the room, or some other pattern. The decision to do any of these would be determined by what works for the message and the day's theme, not what seems “edgy.”
• It would be okay to bring your coffee inside, but not your screaming baby.
• High-quality artwork would beautify the space, and would be used as appropriate throughout the service.
• Music would range from David Crowder to Martin Luther and everything in between. Regardless of style, it would be consistently well-done. Think of an instrument—yep, we’d use that one.
• The following exchange would NEVER happen:
Guy Up Front (GUF): “Good morning!”
People: "Morning."
GUF: “Let’s try again—GOOD MORNING!”
People (louder and considerably more annoyed): “Good morning!”
• Sermons would be grounded in Scripture and would challenge the attendees to greater discipleship, wherever they may be in their individual spiritual journeys. Practical applications of Scripture are fine, but not so “practical” or topical that you leave the service feeling like an audience member at the Dr. Phil show.
• Opportunities for interacting with those worshiping near you would be more genuine than the obligatory “welcome the people around you before you sit down” thing—Catholics have the right idea by offering peace to each other.
• It would be okay to laugh.
• Worship leaders would draw from a variety of sources and traditions in weaving together each service—depending on the theme they might pull from The Book of Common Prayer, the writings of Bonhoeffer, or Chris Tomlin’s chord charts.
• Choices would be made intentionally. No one would ever say, “We need 10 minutes of music before the sermon and a special for the offering. Just pick some songs.”

• The order of the service would differ from week to week. (Does it seem to anyone else that two uptempo songs, announcements, two slower songs, and onward into communion is the new "traditional"?)

• The person cueing up the power point slides for congregational singing would be alert and on top of the task. (Another argument for allowing coffee inside.) Ditto the microphone guy--we'd never miss the first four words of every speaker.

• No one would EVER end a prayer with “And all God’s children said……”

Last week during my vacation I read Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot, the widow of Jim Elliot who--along with four other young men--was killed while traveling into the jungles of Ecuador to share the Gospel with the Waorani tribe.

I was struck by the martyrdom of the five men, of course, but I was even more impressed by the maturity they possessed before they died. The book traces the calling of God on all five men--and their wives--to global missions and shows the spiritual and personal development of each one. Most of them began preparing for the mission field during their college days. Jim Elliot, convinced God was leading him to service in a Spanish-speaking country, began teaching himself the language during his sophomore year of high school. Ed McCully quit law school to become a missionary; he wrote, "I have one desire now--to live a life of reckless abandon for the Lord, putting all my energy and strength into it." Nate Saint and his young wife Marj worked as a team to safely fly supplies and equipment to missionaries throughout the jungle. The others all exhibited similar focus and conviction.

The heroes and heroines of Gates worked, as young adults, toward purposeful next steps. The men pursued and won godly wives, some before arriving in Ecuador and some after. They completed education with a focus on future goals. For heaven's sake, they wrote things like this in their journals: "We have arrived at the destination decided on in 1950. My joy is full. Oh, how blind it would have been to reject the leading of these days. How it has changed the course of life for me and added such a host of joys!"

In contrast, Time magazine devoted a January 2005 issue to the increasing number of 20 and 30-somethings ("twixters") still living with their parents, working a series of low-commitment part-time jobs, or in some other way postponing adulthood. The average age for marriage keeps creeping up, the article pointed out, if twixters marry at all. Many live with staggering amounts of credit card debt. Some hop from job to job and apartment to apartment--if they live on their own in the first place (witness the success of the recent movie Failure to Launch, with the tagline "To leave the nest, some men just need a little push." )

All kinds of social and economic factors play into the current generation's long adolescence, and I know there are many of us who stepped up in our early 20s and accepted adult responsibilities. I worked part-time from age 16 on, began my first "real" job two days after college graduation, and moved out of my parent's house six months later, so I'd even like to think I'm one of them.

But jobs, spouses, homes and IRAs are just part of it. The Time article doesn't speak to spiritual maturity, and that's what enabled Jim Elliot to find such joy in reaching a hostile tribe for Jesus--and what helped his widow return to the same jungle with her baby daughter to continue the work after his death.

So even if I hadn't spent the first two years of college as an undecided major, and even if I didn't periodically consider flushing my fish because it's too much work to take care of him----I'm no Elisabeth Elliot, and neither are most of my friends.

What's the chicken and what's the egg? Does my generation exhibit less spiritual maturity because less maturity is required of us in other areas of life? Or do we postpone adulthood because its spiritual underpinnings (leave and cleave, etc. ) are no longer widely promoted?

I wish I knew the answer. At the end of the book, Elliot writes, "It is not the level of spirituality that we can depend on. It is God and nothing less than God, for the work is God’s and the call is God’s and everything is summoned by Him and to His purposes, the whole scene, the whole mess, the whole package—our bravery and our cowardice, our love and our selfishness, our strengths and our weaknesses.” I can only trust that this God can use even my slowly maturing generation to accomplish his purposes.

Postscript to last Sunday

On Tuesday I was able to apologize to Joe for being so wrapped up in my own thoughts last week that I missed the significance of his being at church. (See last Sunday's entry if you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

I had another opportunity to be a good small-group-mate this morning and got to sit with Joe at the 11:00 service. He may even continue to attend. Just thought I'd share "the rest of the story"--partly to vindicate myself, if I'm being honest, but mostly to say thanks God for the second chance to do the right thing.

Instead of passing a plate, bag, or KFC bucket during services, my church collects tithes and offerings through tall, narrow, plain wooden boxes placed at the entrances to the worship center and in a few other buildings. When I attended the new members class, the pastor explained the elders made this decision to reduce the perception among visitors that the church “only wants their money.”

I hear this all the time--that many seekers (and not-so-seekers) believe the church talks too much about money or cares more about people’s giving than their salvation. This is ironic because, first, Jesus talked about money all the time and, second, many pastors I know are terrified to confront the issue at all much less overdo it, and, third, with the high rate of debt and low rate of savings in our society it seems we have an obligation to teach people about biblical stewardship.

But I digress. What I find interesting about the offering boxes is that even though the method of collecting the money is different, the idea is still mentioned from the pulpit each week. Without fail, the person doing the welcome and announcements will mention the presence of the boxes and remind members to give as part of their worship.

It’s also interesting that the principle is important enough to our leaders that they are willing to forego a tithe of another kind. The senior pastor estimates the church could receive 10% more money each year by passing the plate—those impulsively-given fives and tens add up. But they choose to do without that cash in favor of making a statement.

Finally, it’s interesting that our church is a very generous church. Whether this is caused by the offering-box method or happens in spite of it, I don’t know, but we consistently make or exceed the budget for each year plus give many thousands of dollars to the poor and needy of Orange County and to special efforts like hurricane relief.

So what conclusions to draw? The practice doesn’t seem to be hurting us, and I’m not aware of a biblical precedent for passing buckets so the question seems more practical than theological. What do you think?

This past Tuesday at small group, Joe shared his usual prayer request: "That I would just hear God and be able to discern his will." Every week he shares this request, and every week I struggle with whether or not to confront him on something that's been bothering me--early in our gatherings Joe shared that he enjoyed the midweek worship gatherings at church and liked small group, but didn't really like Sunday morning church and so he no longer attended.

Those who know me well (and even not so well) can tell you that I usually don't have trouble telling people what I think, but I hardly know Joe (see earlier tirade on small groups) and wasn't sure how my input would be received. Nevertheless, on Tuesday after Joe shared his prayer request again, I asked permission from him in front of the group to share a thought. I told him that every week I hear him make this request and pray this prayer, and yet my experience with God is that he often reveals his will to the extent that we are obeying what we already know. "Joe," I said, "you need to be in church. Obey in that area, and see what God does."

To his credit, Joe heard this, wasn't defensive, and thanked me for my encouragement.

This morning I hurried in to the worship center, looking around me for someone smiley with a bulletin, and saw Joe standing against the wall looking like he was waiting for someone. I said hi and kept going. It wasn't until the middle of the third song that it hit me: Joe came to church. I said hi to Joe. And I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that the significance of this did not even register with me enough to talk to him, much less invite him to sit with me or tell him how proud I was of his being there. I had to stop singing, bow my head, and apologize to God. I looked up from the prayer hoping Joe was still against the wall so that I could try to make it right, but he had either (hopefully) taken his seat by then or had left.

Yep--I'm a jerk.

RSS

A couple weeks ago a reader asked about an RSS feed--I'm pleased to say we have one set up. Here's the URL: http://christianstandard.com/writeaboutnowfeed.xml.

My co-bloggers, Arron and Brian, write excellent stuff each week--here's what you need to set up a feed for their blogs, as well:

http://preachingstandard.com/atom.xml
http://christianstandard.com/mylordandmyblogfeed.xml

Thanks for reading!

Last year our Board and leadership team graciously gave every employee a "Sabbath week" (an extra week of paid vacation time). They included a few (very appropriate) parameters: you had to take the time, you had to take it during one of two weeks, and you had to spend the first day in a time of worship and meditation with the rest of the group.

It was a tremendously generous gift, and one I encourage you to consider for your staff or employees.

But last year, grateful as I was for this time, I didn't really need it. Things were plugging along well enough in my life, and I actually used part of my "Sabbath" time to visit Vegas--a trip that probably does not fit even the loosest interpretations of what it means to keep the Sabbath, but was very fun anyway.

This year is different. Our leaders aren't giving extra vacation this summer (it's not really the kind of perk that can or should be offered on an annual basis) so I'm creating my own Sabbath next week.

I've blogged about my friend who recently finished a marathon. When she told me about the experience, she described the physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion that suddenly kicks in after crossing the finish line. For 26.2 miles, the focus is finishing strong and achieving the goal. At 26.3, the adrenaline shuts off, and suddenly the walker notices the shin splints, dizziness, and dehydration that built up during competition.

The last year and a half has been my 26.2 miles. I gutted through some difficult situations and now, at the finish line, I'm out of adrenaline and out of energy. And now that I'm here, bent over and trying to catch my breath, I'm noticing the side effects. (When you find yourself daydreaming about getting mono so you can stay home all day sleeping and reading magazines, it's a sign you may need a break.)

So I'm looking forward to next week--not because one week will magically repair the cumulative effects of one year, but because I believe God will honor my attempt to step back, refocus, and rest. I'll let you know how it goes.