new to you friday–McChurch

I estimate that last year I spent 100 days on the road. (In case you’re wondering, I’ve made some changes so I won’t be able to say the same about 2010.) In just the last few weeks I’ve been in Cincinnati and the far reaches of Kansas and I’m typing this from a moldy Hyatt in Baton Rouge. All this travel just reinforces my thoughts in this post—the franchising of America is not limited to its restaurants and clothing stores. A lot of our churches are starting to look a lot alike. Do you think it’s a problem?

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Yesterday was fun—my dad and I drove from Monterey, CA through Big Sur along the Pacific Coast Highway. We saw beautiful ocean views, walked through a forest of redwoods, and ate locally-grown artichokes and fresh shrimp.

After several hours enjoying this beauty, we turned off the PCH to take the 101 south to Los Angeles. Almost immediately a landscape of Home Depots, AMC movie theaters, and fast food restaurants replaced the views of rocky cliffs, beaches, and privately-owned B&Bs.

What struck me was not just the abrupt transition back to the land of a million Targets, but how similar the next 180 miles looked. Every exit ramp had some combo of the same national retail outlets and chain stores. Except for the palm trees, we could just as easily have been in Indianapolis, Kansas City or any other American suburb.

To find stories for Christian Standard, I spend a lot of time surfing around church websites, leafing through church papers, and even visiting different churches. And it strikes me that our congregations—and many other evangelical churches—resemble those exit ramps. Every church has many of the same programs and services—Celebrate Recovery, a youth group with a name like “Surge,” a kids-and-parents service modeled on North Point’s, a Christian preschool, a variety of men’s and women’s small groups (men studying Wild at Heart, women studying either Captivating or something by Beth Moore), a wanna-be Starbucks coffee area named “Hallowed Grounds.” Many even preach the same sermons, often based on popular TV shows like “Lost” and “Desperate Housewives,” in an attempt to reach that ambiguous goal of “cultural relevance.”

These are all okay, but as we adopt more and more of the same strategies our churches all start to resemble one another. Of course it doesn’t make sense for all of us to start from scratch on everything—we do well to learn from each other and adopt what works. But I find it concerning (and, frankly, boring) to see so many of our bigger and newer churches become so much alike.

I can go into any McDonald’s in the country and eat the same meal, prepared the same way and guaranteed to provide the same (minimal) nourishment. I’m not sure I want the same experience when it comes to spiritual food.

all access

‘Tis the season for ministry conferences; Exponential and Catalyst West just wrapped up, in Orlando and Orange County, and this week the Association of Related Churches holds their “All Access” event for church planters and other ministry leaders.

All Access Twenty Ten is at Healing Place Church in Baton Rouge, so in addition to the great speakers—Dino Rizzo, Greg Surratt, ARC president Billy Hornsby, Priscilla Shirer, John Maxwell, and many others—there will be difficult-to-pronounce foods like etouffee and boudin balls.

I’ll be live blogging several of the sessions; you can catch my notes plus those from the team at Rethink Monthly on the ARC blog Tuesday–Thursday this week.

I’m most excited about worshiping with Hillsong United—their concert alone will make it worth the trip. Well, that and the beignets.

new to you friday–it takes a forest…..

Happy Earth Day to you, a day late. I dare you to top the comments in the original post. (“We are important to the creation of the earth and our improvements cannot be seen, if we are to approach the question Biblically, as inherently evil.” “I fail to see how a Wal-mart on every corner and a McMansion every 32 feet is an ‘improvement.’”)

P.S. The issue of whether “global warming” is really happening is a related but separate issue from the broader question of our charge to care for the earth. And the presence of snow this winter does not, in itself, invalidate the possibility of climate change. Treat yourself to that rant here.
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A small sign at the San Diego Zoo informs visitors of a horrifying statistic: each week, it takes an entire forest of trees to supply the paper just for the Sunday newspapers in America. I used to buy the paper each Sunday for a quick scan of the front page, the TV guide, the Target ad, and the comics. I rarely recycled it. I need to change both habits.

I’ve been puzzled for years how Christians can justify intense, vocal involvement in some issues (abortion, gay rights) and not others like the environment. Although God created the earth, called it very good, and charged humans with its care, the protection and conservation of natural resources is seen as a “liberal” issue. (And of course no good Christian is a liberal.)

So I read with interest an article in the latest issue of Fast Company magazine about two pastors— Richard Cizik and Jim Ball—who also co-lead the Evangelical Climate Initiative. In February, the two leaders began the ECI by holding a press conference to share the biblical foundation for the program and to ask for tougher environmental laws. (Cizik is also a lobbyist for the National Association of Evangelicals, or NAE.) Fast Company reports that 86 evangelical leaders, including Rick Warren and several college presidents, pledged their support.

However, others did not—most notably Stuart Shepard, an editor and spokesman at Focus on the Family. “There are certain issues that define what it means to be an evangelical,” he says. “Global warming doesn’t fit into that.” Focus and 20 other groups pressured the NAE to remove Cizik after the announcement of the initiative.

I find this staggering, and disturbing.

Apparently, some in the religious right feel the inclusion of these concerns weakens the political impact of their position on abortion, homosexuality, and other “moral” issues. Yet the April 3 Time reported the huge potential consequences of disregarding the damage we’re causing. Cizik points out that 20 to 30 million people could be victims of these catastrophes—flooding, hurricanes, drought, and more. Many of those affected will be the poorest of the poor, and many of them will not yet be Christians—how does concern about these people not qualify as a moral issue? Every church I know donated money and organized volunteer teams to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina—is it somehow less “Christian” to work toward preventing the next round?

Natural disasters happened before global warming, of course. But even if no human being ever suffered from our treatment of the planet, Genesis 1 still reminds us we are called to be careful stewards of the world God created.

Cizik says, “Reducing pollution is loving your neighbor.” If evangelicals feel compelled to participate in politics, I wish our worldview could be truly global—broader than just a few hot-button issues, and concerned with the globe itself.

things I would like for my birthday

A clear calling for my life

Arms like Michelle Obama’s

A fantastic boyfriend who’s not gay, 53, married, carrying a gun on his person or just odd

The graciousness of my mother

The goodness of my father

Peace like a river

The Presto 04820 PopLife Hot Air Corn Popper

new to you friday–on the drink

I like this one. The original post received no comments, probably because I had just started blogging, but I’d love to hear your thoughts now.

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This week’s Christian Standard features an article on “The 12-Stepping Church” by Dan Gilliam, who until recently served as minister of meditation and prayer at LifeBridge Christian Church in CO. He discusses the history of Alcoholics Anonymous and the value of AA and other programs in serving and possibly sharing Jesus with people in recovery.

I’m all for churches adopting the 12 steps, Celebrate Recovery, etc. As Gilliam writes, “Many Christians, having seen remarkable transformations firsthand, believe 12-step fellowships are nothing less than an anonymous arm of Christ’s church, exposing agnostics, atheists, and pre-Christians to the life-changing gospel without some of the more religious aspects that could close their minds to God.”

As I read, I found myself thinking that while it’s now okay to say “I’m an alcoholic” at many churches, it’s not okay to say “I’m a moderate drinker.” For many Christians, any and all alcohol consumption falls into the “black” side of a black and white world.

There’s no question that the best way to avoid substance abuse is to avoid the substance completely. For many people it’s less an issue of legalism and more a recognition of weakness. I have friends who struggle with moderation in eating or spending money and have decided not to add drinking as another temptation in life. I respect that.

For others it’s generational. Many of my Christian friends drink, but most of their parents do not.

Opinions on the issue also vary geographically. Recently I interviewed for a staff position with a church back in the midwest. To remain above reproach, the church requires all paid staff to completely abstain from alcohol. Again, I respect this—the congregation adopted this policy to protect its staff and to make a statement to the community. Although I enjoy a glass of wine most evenings, I would have happily agreed to this rule if called to this role.

But several of my Christian friends out here expressed surprise at the restriction. “You can’t drink at all?” they asked. “What’s the big deal?” Californians tend to (often wrongly) consider themselves more progressive than everyone else, but in this area they do seem less conservative. Whether it’s the proximity to Napa or to Hollywood, the no-booze-for-good-Christians mindset is much rarer here than in the Bible Belt.

And this can be both good and bad. The line between “social drinker” and “heavy drinker” can be a fine one for some folks, and the mindset that all drinking is bad avoids that line altogether. However, it also creates rules that can alienate sincere seekers like my friend who—when presented with the gospel and asked if he wanted to accept Jesus—said, “I want to be a Christian, but……..can I still have a beer with my pizza?”

At the end of the day, (around cocktail hour), it becomes a matter of conscience for every Christian. This isn’t as nice and neat as our Evangelical Prohibition, but I think it is more biblical.

how to stop worrying

Be someone other than Jennifer Taylor.

Kidding, of course, although this is a good first step since I have completely mastered worrying and could compete at a Worry Olympics with other champions.


It began early.

Jen, age 5: (holding paper and crayons, sobbing): Mom, I can’t make my fours right. I make them backwards. (More sobbing.) Mrs. Pence makes her fours the right way and I can’t do it!

(Mrs. Pence was my kindergarten teacher, a lovely lady who introduced me to turnips and wrote a poem about me that had nothing to do with turnips before retiring the next year. But I digress.)

Mom: (patient smile): How old is Mrs. Pence?

Jen (trying to breathe): Old.

Mom: How long has she been making her fours?

Jen: A long time. Because she’s old.

Mom: How long have you been trying to do your fours?

Jen (a dim light dawning in her tear-soaked little brain): One day.

Mom: Right. I promise before you are old you will make your fours just fine. You just need to practice some more.

Sniffling and hugs…………….end scene.


So the ability to turn small issues into huge crises is one of my biggest gifts.

But I’m now closer to 35 than 5 (gulp) and it’s time to get a handle on this. Although the situations are far less common now, I still tend to turn into that teary five-year-old (inside, anyway) when things I care about don’t go as planned.

Worry is one of those acceptable sins, like gluttony and gossip, that we minimize or say we can’t help. Sometimes we also cause ourselves more worry by believing if we could just “trust God more” we would stop fretting, and therefore we are bad Christians with little faith.

I disagree with both perspectives.


I think it’s a control issue.


Author and Christian psychologist Henry Cloud writes, “Worry is often the non-acceptance of situations that you cannot do anything about.”

This is an amazing insight, because it positions worry as the symptom, not the core problem. The real issue is an inability to accept our lack of control over other people and circumstances. We are unable to accept that we may not get the house we put an offer on, or the job we interview for, or the relationship we want. We can’t control the other couple making an offer or the opinions of the interviewer or the feelings of the potential friend or date.

We can do some things, of course: work with a good realtor and make a competitive offer, research the company and practice our interview skills, share our wishes for the friendship. But ultimately we cannot make anyone else do anything, and we certainly can’t control the timeline of their response. We must simply do what we can and let it go. (This is where the trust-in-God discussion becomes more helpful.)

You lucky non-worrier types are thinking, “What’s the big deal? Of course you can’t control everything. Why waste all that emotional energy?” To which I say to you, on behalf of all worriers everywhere, yes, we know, and thank you for pointing out that we are wasting time and energy on this because now that gives us something else to feel bad about. Also, please ask your spouse what aspects of your “laid-back” personality drive them nuts.


As for me, one thing I have accepted is it’s time to deal with this issue, this year. After all, I did finally learn to make my fours. I can do this, too.

new to you friday–a question

This post connected with many people, I think because it’s at odds with how so many of us have been taught to think about the Christian life.

Obedience, growth, faithfulness–these are hard, sacrificial things. So my follow-up question, a year after the original post, is the same: how can we read the Bible and expect an easy road?

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Noah was 600 years old when he began building the ark. After weeks of backbreaking work, he endured 370 days stuck in that airtight boat with an ornery family, hundreds of animals, and enough “fertilizer” for the rest of his grape-growing career.

Abraham waited a lifetime for God to keep the promise of a son, only to receive a command to murder that son in cold blood.

Joseph refused to have sex with Potiphar’s wife but still went to prison.

Moses put up with a million whiny Israelites for forty years.

Job lost everything because he had done nothing wrong.

Hosea faithfully loved an unfaithful wife and provided for the children of her affairs.

David ran for his life to escape a crazy king.

Jeremiah became the weeping prophet.

Daniel faced hungry lions.

Ezekiel watched his wife die, and was forbidden to mourn.

Mary quietly suffered disgrace and journeyed 70 miles on a donkey while nine months pregnant to give birth in a cave, alone and in pain and probably embarrassed, with no idea she wouldn’t get to return home to show the new baby to her mom.

Joseph endured the same scorn, the same journey, the same embarrassment, the same years running from Herod, and didn’t even get his own Hail Joseph prayer.

John the Baptist lost his head twice; before his beheading, despair and confusion led him to question if the man he followed was truly the Savior.

And Jesus, the Man of All Sorrows, “became obedient to death–even death on a cross.”


These are the giants of our faith. They are some of God’s “favorites.” Yet their journeys were difficult, messy, painful, unsanitary, anguished, dangerous, and unfair.

So if this is how God deals with his favored ones, why do we equate his blessing with safety, self-fulfillment, and air conditioning?

holy crap!: calling me out

Last week I mentioned I’d add a second “holy crap!” post this week and kick off the series with some transparency about my own struggles in this area. Here goes:

Last year while working on a freelance project I had to interview people from a local organization. Several times in the process I became frustrated by the last-minute answers to my requests or the incomplete information I received. Although each of the individuals I talked to was competent and friendly, the laid-back culture and “everyone does everything around here” nature of the workplace led to misunderstandings.

During the end of the project, I called my main contact at the company. We’ll call her Tracy. A few days before, I had visited her office to pick up some materials and felt annoyed by…….something I can’t remember now. On this call I rehearsed the list of interviews I’d completed and became irritated again when she interrupted to question why so-and-so wasn’t on my list because he was “the MOST important.”

I had two options. The healthy, positive option would have been to say, “Tracy, I’ve been trying to understand how everything fits together and sometimes it’s difficult because I’m not getting enough information early enough in the process. I already asked this person for an interview and he hasn’t responded. If it’s really important for me to connect with him, I need you to make it happen, and to let me know now if there is anyone else I’m missing.”

The significantly less Christ-like response would have been to say, with an edge in my voice, “Tracy, I asked him and never heard back. I’m running out of time. It would have been good to know this earlier.”


Guess which I chose.


There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and then Tracy said, “Jen, the last couple of times we’ve talked you’ve seemed really irritated. I’m not sure what I’ve done, or why you’re unhappy with me, but I think we need to talk about it.”

Ouch. Double ouch.

She was right and she had the character to address it. I gulped, explained the reasons behind my annoyance, and apologized for my tone.

There is so much to learn here, but let’s start with three lessons and you can tell me more in the comments:

1. Dealing with conflict doesn’t have to involve raised voices, drama or fighting.

2. My reasons for being annoyed were still valid. Accepting responsibility for my irritated behavior did not mean pretending like the original issue didn’t exist. It just created a wide open space to talk productively instead of passive-aggressively about the problem.

3. You’ll note that I can’t even remember one of the issues that originally bothered me. That is so often the case, but such small things can eventually cause huge relational fallout if allowed to fester. Instead, today when I see Tracy at the church we both attend, she does not (I presume) feel any hurt or anger toward me, nor do I toward her. There is a bit of awkwardness, but I would feel no hesitation serving with her on a project again.

Tracy chose to deal with the conflict instead of trying to ignore it, and we’re both better for it.


I love what Evie Coates says in her blog post about receiving a reprimand:

So when I am scolded, confronted, approached, how then do I conduct myself? What my brain wants is to shake it off and deliver one of my well-crafted zingers right back, to give the appearance that I haven’t effectively been cut down to size, that I’m contentedly cold to the heat of tension. But what my spirit tells me is to calmly pave over the rift, admit to my obtuseness and move on with grace and more awareness, having learned the lesson that was put there for me to learn. I also try to remember to operate under the assumption that if someone cares enough to confront me, it could mean that they care enough about me and who I am forever becoming to step in and help the process along.

I’m grateful for the process, grateful for Tracy, and grateful for the lesson she taught me.

new to you friday–life on loan

You may have read my dad’s recent guest posts from his trip to Kenya with CMF. While there he was able to experience many of CMF’s projects including the microenterprise program I describe here.

Then, just two days ago, I received an update on Alice, the lady my brother and sister-in-law and I made a small loan to two years ago. This was our first update and it made my entire month.


“A Great Story of Success,” it began, then went on to share that Alice has faithfully paid back the loan in weekly installments “without pushing” and has started her own tailoring business. She has taken additional loans to expand the business and now employs two other women! Here’s a picture of her hard at work.

“You can change one person’s world, and it’s a blast,” I wrote about giving the initial gift. Seeing results like this is even more fun.

Find out more about CMF’s microenterprise program here.

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It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the poverty and disease in Africa, and to wonder if normal two-name people (that is, the non-Bono and non-Oprah) can make any difference. A variety of complex factors created this crisis, and no one solution can fix everything. But microloans are a good way to start.

Microloans aren’t new, but they’ve gained new attention in recent years. Like so many good ideas, this one is simple: reputable organizations identify potential loan recipients in the developing world and share info about these folks with richer Americans, Europeans, etc. who then loan a few dozen or few hundred dollars. The recipient uses this money to start a small business (like a food market, general store, or transportation business) and eventually repays the loan in full. The rich American can then loan the money to another 2/3 world entrepreneur, theoretically repeating the cycle indefinitely and using the same money to give freedom and dignity to many different people.

Microloans also help prevent the spread of HIV; many recipients are women and the income generated from their small businesses dramatically reduces the likelihood they’ll barter their bodies for food. (One recent study in Botswana and Swaziland reports women who lack sufficient food are 80% more likely to engage in “survival sex.”)

It takes so little money to lower that percentage–for the cost of a nice restaurant meal you can help someone eat well for a long time. And although most of us could easily afford to give that amount outright, the recipients almost always repay the loans in full.

Alice Mbithe is in that category. Despite only receiving a primary school education, she’s successfully run her own small grocery business for years to supplement her husband’s income. As I type, this sweet lady is using the money my brother, sister-in-law and I loaned her to set up a fruit and vegetable stand that will support her family of five, pay hospital bills, and provide medication for her youngest daughter.

We connected with Alice through Christian Missionary Fellowship. Their microenterprise program provides a 27-hour training course for prospective microloan recipients (covering everything from bookkeeping and saving to integrity and faithfulness) and coordinates weekly meetings for accountability and support. Loans range from $8 to $400 and the program already has 190 clients.


I make part of my living writing advertising copy, so I try to avoid the trite. But I have to say it: while no one, even Bono, can change the world alone, you can change one person’s world. And it’s a blast.