Friday, February 17

Olympic-style living

This week has been spent trying to squeeze as much time viewing the Olympics as my schedule will allow (and sleep will permit). I am still not sure why I need to wait for 8 hours after the event to watch it on television; VCRs and TIVO were invented for a reason!

Last night, watching the men's free-style skating competition, I got into a discussion about the "new" scoring system being used at this Olympiad. The skaters are attempting increasingly difficult maneuvers - which is good; but they are not able to complete them - which is bad. However, they are being scored in a manner allowing them to receive credit for the portions of the element that were completed - which is good for the skater, but bad for the sport. By following this logic, all a skater need do is attempt 3 or 4 quad-jump combinations and hope that they can stick the landing one of them. The scoring will credit them for all that they actually accomplish and they should walk out with a medal. The folks in the stands and at home will watch them slide across the rink on their posterior; but hey, they tried right? What's next: giving out medals for how the athlete wishes they had skated? Absurd, you say? Quite right! We ought not award medals on an "outcome based" formula. If the skater cannot complete the element, then the element has not been done.

Apply that logic to life and living, and especially to the Christian life. Please follow my logic through to its conclusion before passing judgment on it. I am not saying we ought not attempt great things, nor am I saying we should only stick to what we know we can do. What I am saying is this: When we allow our lives to be lived in a way that states "Oh well, I guess I couldn't do all that. Give me credit for trying." it smacks others of falseness and hypocrisy. Let me reduce this to absurdity. If I promise to lead the singing on a Sunday Morning; but leave after the opening hymn - I don't get credit for leading one song, I get (rightly) accused of not leading the song service. Until it's finished, I have not done it. If I only give the introduction to my sermon - I haven't preached. (Again, don't misunderstand; some sermons take a LONG time to introduce and I have sat through some 45 minute introductions before. I am talking about just telling a story or two for 8 minutes and calling it a wrap)

The Christian life is more important than an ice skating competition. We need to "score" it much more differently, too. I am afraid, though, that too often we grade on the Olympic scale. Folks will fail and fall, best laid plans will not be completed as planned, injuries occur, the great plans may not materialize as planned when planned. However, is the public arena the place to try out "something new"?

Wednesday, February 8

Are we ready?

A friend has been challenging my thinking lately. He is part of a church that is re-organizing and trying to reach out in new and meaningful ways to his community. Amid all the questions of "How will we...?" and "What will we...?" he is challenging church members with the question "Are we ready to...?"

Are we ready to see things drastically different from what we have always known?
Are we ready to see a great influx of new faces, cultures, backgrounds?
Are we ready to accept folks as they are while we lovingly show them what God wants them to be?
Are we ready to reach out to those everyone else misunderstands and wishes "would just go away"?
Are we ready to accept the skateboarders as a ministry opportunity instead of a nuisance?
Are we ready to grow?

These are great questions. Ones that should be asked and must be answered. One cannot assume that everyone will come to the same conclusion on these matters. But, as a church seeks to reach out to its community, they are necessary questions to be asking.

So now I am asking them of myself! Some of the answers I already have; some I am still working on answering.

What other questions might be asked in this context? Are we ready to . . .

Thursday, February 2

I'm one of THEM now!

Back in a former life (ok, really just a few months ago, when I was a pastor primarily to young people) there was a phrase that many in my professional circles liked to use: The Jones Memorial Carpet. This term was coined, I believe, by the late Mike Yaconelli; it represented the "sacred cows" and limits placed on youth ministry. Many youth workers could and can regale you with tales from their ministry where something wonderful happened; only to meet with the ire of the church family because, in the process, The Jones Memorial Carpet was soiled.

I often laughed at the concept of the JMC, largely because I was blessed to be involved in churches where ministry took precedence over the condition of the room or the resulting aftermath. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't leading marauding bands wielding grape juice-filled Super Soakers through the sanctuary. I was, however, allowed the opportunity to make messes and repair the aftermath without incurring the wrath of "the Jones family" who had donated whatever it was that got used in a less-than-what-they-had-intended fashion.

All that changed two months ago.

Now I'm "one of the Joneses."

When a family member passed away recently, much was made by members of their immediate family about how the estate would / should be divided. During the course of the last few weeks these same members are discovering just how generous Loved One was to their church. This person was very giving of their finances and time to the cause of Christ's church - too much so, if you ask certain people. After finding out that a substantial portion of the estate would be given to the church, there was much grumbling about how the church should have to earn it, show appreciation for it, erect something to honor the gift, etc. Interestingly enough, the last project this family member contributed towards was, you guessed it, new carpeting for the main auditorium. There were family members who attended the memorial service for Loved One "just to see what kind of carpet [donation amount] gets you these days."

I am trying hard to maintain a sense of balance with family on the one hand, and knowing what I know about ministry on the other. A large part of me wants to say "But look at what can be done in this room, now that it is carpeted! Look at how effective ministry can be - and [the dearly departed] made that happen!" But it would be pointless, because that carpet - in their eyes - has dollar signs for its pattern. They don't understand the reasons their loved one gave; they don't know the One their loved one was demonstrating love towards; they just see a carpet as a "lasting" tribute, and they know that it will be a fleeting memorial at best.

Where am I going with all this? I think the response I should have had back in my youth ministry days was one of thankfulness to the Jones family for letting me in the room with their "carpet" (even though it may not have been actual carpet - you know what I mean, right?). Maybe I should have written them a note, explaining to them how glad we were to not only enjoy the carpet, but explain that the wear and tear - and even stains - were also a fitting tribute to their loved one.

Now that I'm "one of the Joneses" through no fault of my own; that's how I want to proceed in the future.

Contact lenses and salvation?

Yesterday, February 1st, was a monumental day. The beginning of the month marks the time when I change my contacts! I began this habit so that I will remember when it is time (was it the 14th of the month, or the 23rd? No. It is the 1st!).

Each month I marvel at how easily the contacts go onto my eye; and the clarity they provide for my sight. No matter how much I scrub and clean my old lenses, they have to be replaced each month; and each month, I can tell the difference between a new pair and the old. Psalm 51:10 - 12 was ringing in my thoughts yesterday after I put my "new" lenses into use.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit.
How often do I allow myself to relive the joy of when salvation was brand new? The fact "all things have been made new" does not always bring corresponding feelings of the "joy of Your salvation." This may be due to many factors; but could it be simply the fact that we just don't remind ourselves?

Putting a new set of lenses on my eyes reminds me of just how good the new pair is. God, today, keep me mindful and aware of just how good my salvation is compared to the life I lived before!