in opinions, censorship

Last week a megachurch that has faithfully subscribed to Christian Standard for years decided to cancel their subscription because of a few recent articles from the “In Opinions, Liberty” column.

To call this ironic is an understatement.

The whole point of this new feature is to spark discussion on ideas in the spirit of the “in essentials, unity” slogan we like to quote. But instead of welcoming thoughtful dialogue on some non-essentials, this Christian church apparently wants to shield its members from thinking about them. And I’m appalled—not as a Standard Publishing girl, but as a believer.


For one thing, it’s a perfect example of the parent/child relationship that tells Christians what to think, not how. Do we discourage people from thinking critically because the ensuing discussions are too much work? Or is it because we’re afraid of the conclusions they may reach?

Aren’t we part of that whole “truth will set you free” thing?

Or perhaps it’s the topics recently covered in the column: Giving more money to global missions. Rethinking the need for expensive church buildings. Studying the doctrine of hell. Working for unity. Cultivating a global worldview. The effectiveness (or not) of small groups.

People are already talking about many of these issues. Others need to be talked about (and just might lead to changes the minister and elders would love to see). Church leaders can either ignore this reality or proactively provide resources that offer a Bible-based perspective. If we’re going to treat church members as children, let’s at least encourage “the kids” to explore risky topics with us.


Whether it’s reluctance to have the messy conversations or lack of faith in the brain power of its members, I’m disappointed by this church’s decision. But I think Christian Standard should feel a certain pride in its recent brush with censorship. When people opposed to thought find you too dangerous, it just might be a sign you’re doing something right.

new to you friday–eighth track

After I originally posted this, one reader told me how much he liked it and asked if I had written anything else on “P4.” Two years later I still haven’t, but I see examples each week, across industries, of dysfunction caused by poor processes or miscommunication. So the original track is still on frequent rotation.

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Every person is a CD with recurring “tracks”—comments, opinions or rants they can always be counted on to share when a given topic comes up.

For instance, my mom’s blood starts boiling when the conversation turns to Bible college students (often preaching majors) who think studying literature or anything non-hermeneutical is a waste of time. And it’s a righteous anger, too, because who are these 21 year old kids who have so much life experience and wisdom that they don’t—at the least—need artistic works as sources for sermon illustrations? (Read this for more on that.)

Or there’s my wonderful dad who, two minutes into watching any rerun, even the Cosby Show episodes my brother and I have memorized, will say, “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen this one.” (Hey, there are worse things than regular happy surprises from new-to-you TV.)


And today yet another phone call with yet another leader pushed the button for my own recurring track: Politics and Personalities will always negatively fill the void created by a lack of Processes and Procedure.

Call it “P4,” and think about the organizational dysfunctions you’re involved in—have the leaders made thoughtful, intentional choices about where things are going and how everyone’s going to get there? Have they communicated them? Have they made consistent decisions based on them?

The IT department that never solves your problem but creates plenty of new ones—is a leader developing a help desk system and holding team members accountable?

The blistering friction between sales and marketing—has anyone defined “customer service” and delegated the authority for developing new strategies?

The hours lost forever to phone calls, emails and meetings just to put out fires or resolve misunderstandings among frustrated people—is someone creating a work flow and communication structure to keep the same scenario from playing out again?


It’s not always this simple, of course; there are many other factors (and people) contributing to conflicts. A few systems won’t fix everything, and a focus on policies over mission can backfire.

But we also veer off mission if our people have to navigate chaos or infighting to make progress. And I’ve seen it enough that “P4″ has earned a place on Jen Taylor’s greatest hits.

holy crap!–why I don’t want to work at a church

This weekend I heard yet another story about yet another dysfunctional situation at yet another church.

Without going into detail that could identify the particular congregation, the issues involved manipulation, harassment, dishonesty, uninformed leaders making hasty decisions, six-hour meetings to deal with the fallout, firings, and inestimable wastes of time and morale.

Oh, wait, I don’t have to identify the church—it could be one of thousands.

That’s the sad thing, and it’s the reason I don’t want to work on a church staff.


Granted, my temperament is also part of it. I’m an independent spirit who disliked the institutionalized idiosyncrasies of school (no bathroom without a hall pass, lunch at 10:30 a.m) and the corporate workplace (no open-toed shoes, meetings about the ROI of thinking outside the box), and one of the things I enjoy most about the freelance life is an absence of drama.

But it would be nice if I did want to join a church staff team, if the beauty and community of God’s saints co-laboring at a church—any church—compelled me to be a part. Instead it compels me to run the other direction.


The local church is the hope of the world—Hybels and others have said it many times. And I agree.

I love my current church and the church I served in California and the one where I grew up, even though they haven’t been immune to the issues listed above. And I’ve invested in those churches, teaching preschoolers and memorizing choir anthems and washing dishes and manning registration tables and getting up at 6 a.m. for praise team rehearsal.

I love the church, serving the church, and being part of the church. I support my leaders and elders and try to be part of the solution.

But I don’t want to work there. If I’m going to spend 50 hours a week in a toxic environment, I know many that pay a lot more.


What do you think? Am I being too harsh? What causes these problems and how can we improve the situation?

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.

holy crap

Recently I’ve had four different, difficult conversations that involved setting boundaries, or saying something that was honest but really hard to say, or confronting totally inappropriate behavior, etc.


I hated it. I’m good at it, but I hated it.


No one enjoys conflict—or should, anyway—because it’s complicated and messy and makes our guts twist into little ribbons. It’s also something to approach carefully because the line between “confronting in love” and just being a jerk can be a fine one. (Boundaries are like PMS—real, but used as an excuse for lots of bad behavior.)

Yet the Bible is full of examples of God doing this—saying hard things, demonstrating both truth and grace, setting limits, allowing people to experience the consequences of their actions.

Unfortunately, the difficult-ness often wins out over the biblical-ness and we are all guilty of avoiding the conflict and hoping it will go away. Of course, it rarely does and often surfaces to cause much bigger problems later.


I’ve written about this before, but I think it needs more attention, especially in the church world.

As Stephen Simpson writes in a recent Rethink Monthly article,

“In my fifteen years as a psychotherapist, I have encountered few human systems so consistently dysfunctional as church staffs. I’ve heard of pastors doing things that would make the most ambitious CEOs blush. Though most of us only hear about this when a high-profile church leader’s grandiosity leads to recklessness, most of the time acrimony and dysfunction continue behind the scenes for years.”

So I’ll be blogging more frequently about these topics. It won’t be every week, but it will be a new recurring feature—starting next week with the humbling example of a friend confronting me.

In the meantime, tell me what you think. Is this a problem for you, your church, your workplace? Why do we struggle in these areas? What topics should we discuss here?