a list for friday–things you will never hear me say
“Steven Tyler really has some insightful comments on American Idol, doesn’t he?”
“Actually, I’ve been looking for a reason to move to North Dakota.”
“Sure, let’s pierce that.”
“Do you have to kill the mouse?”
“I don’t know, running a marathon might be fun.”
“It’s fine that your dog barks all night—I’m just glad he’s happy.”
“Told you I’m a good bowler.”
“This pinot is lush and unctuous….I’m getting hints of cherry and currants with confident fruit-forward flavor notes that capture the soul of the soil.”
“The movie was better.”
“Shhhh…..football’s on.”
“Really wish I could gain a few pounds.”
“Palin 2012!”
“Of course you can take the whole Bible literally.”
“It’s been three days—guess it’s time for a shower.”
“Well, that’s what I think, but then I’m just a girl.”
future tense
For the past two days I’ve been privileged to be part of a group of 25 Christian church leaders gathered to discuss the future of the church. (Special thanks to Christian Standard, Orchard Group, and Provision Ministry Group for sponsoring the event.)
Yesterday morning we broke into groups of six to dig into the question of the church’s future, especially the next ten years.
Some were very optimistic: “I think we are moving toward our greatest opportunities to share the gospel.”
Some were less positive: “We don’t have a shot at global evangelism unless we change.”
Some gave me stuff to think about for days: “Has our pragmatism neutered the church? Major changes to the way we do church could threaten the livelihoods we’ve come to enjoy as full-time pastors.”
When asked my thoughts (offered with reluctance, believe it or not, because I was one of only three women in the group and the only one not on staff at one of our churches or colleges), I shared your response to my church fatigue and said I think inertia will carry our churches for the next ten years, but probably not the next twenty. (After that, both the boomers and their children will be older and it will be in the hands of the next generation, who are not reached by or satisfied with our current methods.)
More on this soon—I recently created a video about it for the Destiny Leader conference. Right now I want to hear what YOU think—where is the church going in the next ten years?
what singles want to tell your church
—We’re not a life stage. Although statistically many of us are in our 20s and early 30s, to equate singles ministry with a “college and career” group leaves many of us out. A divorced, widowed, or never-married person in her 30s, 40s and beyond has little in common with the never-married, childless, recent college graduates involved in these groups.
Singleness is not just a phase of life for the young who haven’t yet married—it’s a marital status that can be part of life at any age.
—We can do more. Whether it’s expanding that group to reach other singles like us, joining a Bible study, teaching VBS or serving on a praise team, many of us can often serve more and more often than our married friends. Although we have full lives and demanding jobs, those of us without kids probably have a bit more free time (and money) to contribute.
—But we need to be challenged. An occupational hazard of long-term singleness is selfishness. From the furniture in our homes to the appointments on our calendar, our lives revolve around our own needs and interests. We don’t want to be self-centered, but it takes effort. Challenge us to lead a small group, build homes in Mexico, or tutor a child.
—Invite us into community. These activities not only serve others, they create new ways for us to build relationships. We need regular opportunities to connect with other people because single life can be lonely, and we like the idea of the church as an extended family with room for us. But we don’t want to intrude on your literal family or be the proverbial fifth wheel. We love when you invite us to have lunch after church, include us in a holiday celebration, or encourage our relationship as an “aunt” or “uncle” to your child who thinks we’re awesome. (We are, by the way—and we give great birthday presents.)
—One is a whole number. We live in a culture geared toward couples, and we love you guys. But please don’t feel sorry for us. Most of us who want to be married eventually will be, and in the meantime we are enjoying life. Please don’t try to “fix” us by fixing us up (unless we ask you to, of course) or constantly reassure us we’ll find the right person someday. We’re working on becoming the right person, which is a better bet long-term and a lot more fun, too.
Singletons, what else do you want your church to know?
new to you friday–a question for pastors
I wrote the original post after the earthquake in Haiti, but the same questions apply when it comes to helping Japan. For the record, I am hugely in favor of giving money to these causes. But as one person commented, “People will give to what they perceive as a real need, and it’s possible they do not see supporting ‘church’ as a real need anymore.”
91% of the dollars given to Red Cross provide food and water and medical attention to hurting people. With 75% of a church budget going to staff and facilities and just 10% going to missions, it’s understandable when people direct their charitable dollars to organizations with less overhead and more immediate impact.
But at church, many of us also want concert-level production in the worship center and electronic check-in systems for the kids—all of which cost money. Are we willing to forgo these things to increase our missions giving? What really makes us more “relevant” to the world—and to an emerging generation that values social transformation more than bells and whistles?
For years pastors have told us (usually during stewardship sermons) we need only look at our checkbooks to discover what we value. And it’s true—most of us could definitely spend less on non-essentials and give more to mission. But surely the same is true for churches. What do our budgets say about our true priorities?
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Pastors, a non-PC question: Did it bother you to see so many of your church members give money for Haiti relief when so many aren’t giving to the church?
In January, US nonprofit groups received $528 million in donations for Haiti. Yet recent studies by LifeWay Research indicate that more than 50% of US churches have been negatively affected by the country’s recession and 3% are considering closing their doors. The Barna Group reported similar findings; about 20% of churches have had to cut staff and, ironically, 1 in 25 churches have also cut missions support. (Interestingly, only 3% cut back on building plans and facility improvements. But that’s a subject for another day.)
I’m not saying we shouldn’t give to Haiti relief efforts. But it must be hard to support the Haiti push with an undivided heart when the offering comes in below budget every week and you’re deciding which staff person to lay off next.
People love to give to big causes, but they don’t want to pay the light bills. They’ll give $100 one time but not 10% every week. It’s understandable (as noted earlier, I hate tithing) but our churches are suffering.
Does it bother you? Be honest. It would bother me.
grace notes
“Are we allowed to eat?”
Spend enough time around Christians and two things will happen: a) we’ll eat, because it is one of our few vices and b) a latecomer to the gathering will ask this question.
For those of you not part of the subculture, the person is really asking, “Have we said a rushed, cliche-filled ‘blessing’ for this food? Because you must do so before eating anything with protein.” (In youth group we prayed before pizza, but not before chips.)
Prayers—sincere, thoughtful prayers—of thanks before a meal are appropriate and even biblical (Matthew 14 & 15, Matthew 26, Luke 24, Acts 27). And for some people it is a meaningful moment. But for too many others it’s a requirement to be rushed through before the food gets cold.
Perhaps this is a small thing to be annoyed by (or blog about), but it’s a symptom of more significant problems. We scoff at the Pharisees who constructed elaborate laws about the Sabbath but missed the whole point of rest and worship. Are we any better? We insist on a mumbled prayer before eating (bonus points if we can use it to “witness” in restaurants), but how many of us think about the words we’re saying, or give thanks for our blessings at other times? Does our gratefulness ever prompt us to provide food for those in need?
Sometimes I pray before I eat. Sometimes I don’t. If we cross paths at a potluck, I promise never to ask if the Jello salad has been blessed. But I do have some other questions:
—Couldn’t we just pray once over everything in our grocery cart and call it good until the next shopping trip?
—What about leftovers?
—What if there’s a gap between dinner and dessert? Is dessert “covered”?
—Which is worse: to skip prayer in a restaurant or to pray and then be rude to the waitress?
—What about giving thanks for food we shouldn’t be eating in the first place? (If I’m about to consume a Burger King Triple Stacker with bacon, shouldn’t I be praying for my arteries to survive it?)
—And how do you think Jesus would look in a tuxedo t-shirt?
a few good men
“Today, most men in their 20s hang out in a novel sort of limbo, a hybrid state of semi-hormonal adolescence and responsible self-reliance. This “pre-adulthood”…… doesn’t bring out the best in men,” writes Kay Hymowitz in Sunday’s Wall Street Journal.
Pre-adulthood as a new life stage isn’t limited to men, of course, and “extended adolescence” is not a brand-new phenomenon. But Ms. Hymowitz digs deeper than the usual laments over irresponsible Millennials.
For instance, it’s popular (and too simplistic) to bash men for how they’ve kept women from learning and earning. But the statistics for the next generation tell a different story. More women than men are graduating from college, and doing so with higher GPAs. More women go on to graduate school and in some cities they even make more money than their male peers.
However, Hymowitz says this “rise of women” has also given a generation of men permission to act like boys.
“Today….with women moving ahead in our advanced economy, husbands and fathers are now optional, and the qualities of character men once needed to play their roles—fortitude, stoicism, courage, fidelity—are obsolete, even a little embarrassing,” she writes.
Why should they grow up? “No one needs them anyway. There’s nothing they have to do.”
The entire situation raises (at least) two questions for me:
First, are we as a society going to tell our women to dumb it down, sit down, and pipe down because if they live up to their potential it might emasculate men? Young women have realized most men in their 20s are unwilling to think about commitments like marriage; is limiting our own choices and achievements during that decade the only way to make them catch up?
If not, who’s going to model a better way? As Hymowitz notes, if women take the reins men tend to disappear or disengage. But just telling them to stand up and man up isn’t the solution—we need to redefine masculinity for a new generation. Feminists have looked to everyone from Virginia Woolf to Tina Fey; who can inspire today’s men?
“Today’s pre-adult male is like an actor in a drama in which he only knows what he shouldn’t say,” Hymowitz writes. I’d add that today’s pre-adult female is still figuring out how her femininity and sexuality should fit into the script. Both genders—an entire generation—need some cues. What’s our role in the solution?
new to you friday–my name is jen and…..
A few weeks ago, Christian Standard published an article by Brian Jones on “why churches should euthanize small groups.” It caused a bit of kerfluffle (75 comments and counting–check it out here) and is interesting since Brian is speaking at the Small Groups Ministry Conference at CCU in April.
But irony is fun, and I resonated with many of Brian’s thoughts. Small groups have never done it for me, but a 12-step group might. As I noted in the original post, the radical honesty and equally-radical acceptance demonstrated in many of these groups is crucial to overcoming addictions—and it should be more a part of our journey to overcome sin.
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This weekend I finished reading Lit, Mary Karr’s memoir about her relationship with her husband, her addiction and her God.
Every page was a poem—no wonder the book appeared on dozens of “best of 2009″ lists last month. But what struck me most was her experience in Alcoholics Anonymous. As she gets sober and commits to daily meetings, Karr encounters a corps of unlikely comrades: a well-known musician who brings homemade cookies. A black man with tattoos from the Khe Sanh Combat Base in Vietnam. A classics professor. Hookers and bankers. Rich women in Chanel suits and mechanics picking at the grease under their fingernails and still-drunk lawyers and a young man with schizophrenia who once attended a meeting wearing a helmet made of tinfoil.
Karr joined the group after hitting bottom—ending a professional appearance by drinking martinis and wine and chartreuse until blacking out, then trying to drive home until a concrete road divider stops her progress and shoots her out of the moving car.
“A moment of deep self-loathing makes not drinking seem your only conceivable option,” she writes. “But I know that day how swiftly such moments pass, how cunning, baffling, and powerful my own logic can be….for the first time, the disease idea isn’t just metaphorical.”
Although every person at AA can tell a similar—or much worse—story, each one is welcomed, valued, listened to. Jack, the schizophrenic, created his tinfoil hat because he was “convinced his girlfriend was beaming messages to him through the radio,” Karr writes. “It’s a tribute to the radical equality of the room that I never overheard anybody challenge the reasoning.”
This radical equality permeates the group because everyone acknowledges their lives “have become unmanageable” and they cannot successfully and sanely live life without help from each other and a Higher Power. There is no pretense about being more together or less sick than anyone else. The meetings and the community and the prayer save their lives.
And so I was deeply moved by Karr’s experience and deeply convicted about the different experience to be found in many churches—places that, after all, should have the corner on the Higher Power.
We do not admit our lives are unmanageable; in fact we usually find our faults both manageable and excusable. We do not pray and admit our past wrongs and make amends with the desperation of an addict out of better options. We do not find it impossible to go on without submitting our will in complete humility.
Because most of us have not hit bottom in our addiction to sin.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe your church accepts anger and skepticism and even hostility toward the Higher Power. Maybe your members regularly take a moral inventory and confess “the exact nature of their wrongs” and “defects of character” to one another. Maybe they daily help each other fight the disease of our fallen natures. Maybe Jack and his aluminum helmet would fit right in.
If so, I haven’t been to your church. But I’d like to, because my name’s Jen, and I’m a sinaholic.
things I don’t understand, part 11
The circumstances that would cause anyone to need a “Trenta” size coffee from Starbucks.
Talking on your cell phone while using the bathroom.
Why the world needs a fourth “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie.
Why Nashville schools are closed two days for half an inch of snow.
Long hair on men. If David Beckham can’t pull it off, you definitely can’t.
Choosing pest extermination as one’s profession.
Why Pentecostal women wear so much eye makeup.
Scrapbooking. I’m sorry, I just don’t.
Growing a beard long enough to braid.
Why my neighbor’s roosters crow at one in the afternoon.
Why my neighbors have roosters.
Parts 1-10 here.
new to you friday–the parent trap
When I was young, my parents determined what I ate, what I wore and—as much as is possible with a strong-willed child—how I behaved. (They also determined the punishments when I misbehaved.) That’s what parents do.
Now my folks and I relate as adults. I still honor their role, and I try to submit to them as I would to any other believer, but all three of us set boundaries and make our own choices. We even argue occasionally.
In a recent enews from Crossroads Christian Church in Anthem, AZ, lead pastor Steve Wyatt wrote about the difference between parent-child forms of interaction (in which one participant assumes a domineering role and the other passively submits) and the adult-adult form (in which two adults relate to each other as peers).
Steve says, “Far too often, the church traffics in the realm of the Parent-Child relationship. Leaders function in the role of the authoritative “Dad” and faithfully discharge their duties in a rather dictatorial fashion.
In some church traditions, Christians aren’t taught how to think, they’re told what to think. They’re handed a creedal statement and told to memorize it. Young people are given lists of ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ rather than schooled in the art of discernment and wisdom…..
The fact is, the single most popular approach in religion is the Jim Jones model of discipleship (remember him?). He’s the grape Kool-Aid cult leader who led nearly 1000 people to follow him right into the jaws of self-imposed death. That’s the approach of many in religious circles: Treat your flock like mindless children. Demand their acquiescence. Keep them dependent on you and you alone for life’s answers. Create dependency over discipleship.
That’s the Parent-Child approach to church leadership. And it works. In fact, dare I say it? Most of the so-called ‘megachurches’ in our culture function according to this model.”
These are bold statements. And, in some ways, correct ones. I know several megachurch ministers who prefer this parent-child method. (I’ll send you a list for $19.95 plus shipping and handling.)
I also know some who take this approach with their staff; in fact, just last week I heard about another one, a pastor who, without all the facts, belittled a staff member’s ministry and questioned the person’s key relationships under the guise of helping the person “be a good example.” Instead of acting like a spiritual leader, inviting the staff member’s perspective, or—at the least—treating the person like a team member, the pastor mandated conformity to his uninformed ideas of what the staffer’s life should look like.
But I also know senior leaders who quite rightly would bristle at the implication they want church members or staff to mindlessly follow them. Of course, they teach the scriptures unapologetically; adult-adult relationships are not about diluting the truth or making everyone feel good. But some issues really do have more gray than black and white, and many leaders really do want people to study, pray, and develop their own faith.
Which is also God’s preference. If anyone has the right to invoke a parent-child dynamic, it’s the Father, but he requires us to make choices, experience consequences and “work out our salvation with fear and trembling.”
It’s easier, quicker, and more satisfying in the short term to tell people what to think, how to behave, or how to feel; it’s much more difficult and time-consuming to dialogue, explain, and listen. It requires more maturity to accept conflict and messiness as part of the process, and to accept that the process may take decades.
Basically, it requires people to be adults, and the root problem is many leaders—in and outside the church—never learned to relate this way. In these situations we must still honor their roles and submit to their authority. But we can also set boundaries, make choices, and even argue occasionally. It’s what adults do.
war-torn
This weekend a good friend asked what I thought about pacifism. For all my opinionated-ness, this was one issue I hadn’t considered.
So I did.
In principle, I like the idea: that we bring in the reign of God through “militant nonviolence,” that we turn our enemies’ hearts toward God through our love of them, that “it is better to suffer wrong than to inflict it” (Arnobius).
But I am too pragmatic (cynical? negative?) to believe we will ever live in a world free of war between nations or neighbors, or to think the methodology of pacifism will always be effective in those conflicts. (Mark Moore offers an alternate view at Stake.)
As with so many issues, proponents of both sides can turn to scripture to support their point. We serve a God who not only taught us to turn the other cheek and forgive 70 x 7, but also exacted justice against entire people groups and nations. Jesus blessed the peacemakers in Matthew 5; in Matthew 10 he declares he hasn’t come to bring to peace. He told his disciples to carry a sword (Luke 22) and told Peter to put it away (John 18).
Last week I re-read Anne Frank’s diary, the “Critical Edition Prepared by The Netherlands State Institute for War Documentation” that includes the unabridged original text and weighs more than some first-graders. After two years hiding in the forgotten rooms of an Amsterdam warehouse, Anne, her family, and four others were arrested and sent to concentration camps. All but one died, most of them just weeks before the Allies won the war.
The pacifism thing holds up for me until I get here.
Were we to let Hitler shove his way across Western Europe, occupying its major cities and exterminating its citizens? Sure, we entered the war for political and economic reasons—that doesn’t (necessarily) mean it was wrong. Can’t bruised and bloody kids finally stand up to the violent playground bully?
It’s trendy to be opposed to the current wars the US is fighting, and I agree it’s more difficult to get behind a war with murky reasons for beginning and an even less definite conclusion. It’s especially tempting to scoff at the idea of a “just war” when you were persuaded into the last one by imaginary WMDs. And certainly there is a limit to what military force can accomplish. But I’m also not ready to say all war is wrong.
I’m not a fan of the gun-toting, good old boy, if-America-is-doing-it-it-must-be-right attitude. But neither am I able to trust that sit-ins and stubborn ideals will single-handedly defeat evil in the world. Until those internal conflicts are resolved, I can’t be a pacifist.

