I’m amazed by the response I’ve gotten from the EPIC FAIL Pastors’ Conference idea I threw out a little while back. Comments, tweets, facebook responses and a few dozen emails from around the country – even the world – have been coming in. It seems that many are thinking about failure in ministry, but very few are addressing directly. I’m convinced its also why Henri Nouwen’s counter-cultural yet deeply intuitive book In the Name of Jesus is so popular and connects with so many Christian leaders.
The past two years has involved a lot of personal self-discovery through this oft-feared concept of failure. A series of events forced me to wrestle with my people-pleasing tendencies and my deep-seeded fears and anxieties.
One of the elements I’ve had to face head-on in the mirror of my soul has been the root of those seemingly paralyzing fears. What was I so afraid of? I sat with that question. I journaled. I let time go by in order to gain some perspective. I had respected people purposefully listen to my external story and my internal story and the way that narrative was being played out.
About a year ago I thought I had located the source of most of my fear: failure. I thought, Yeah. That’s it. I’m afraid of failing. I’m afraid of being a big screw-up! There: I said it. I felt relief that finally I could have the courage to face it, embrace it, acknowledge it.
But the more I peeled that emotional onion back, the more I realized that I actually feared rejection from other people, which resulted when I failed to do something – big or small, significant or insignificant. I, like most human beings, like to be liked. Nobody wakes up one day and says, “I hope by the end of the work day to be rejected by at least three people.” (But if you’re a telemarketer, I guess you’ve got to expect that on a daily basis).
But after sitting with that for several more weeks I realized that it still wasn’t it. I actually feared shame. Shame is triggered when I am – we are – rejected by others, which is triggered when I/we fail to meet some sort of expectation other people and/or culture places upon us. It may be slight embarrassment that makes you chuckle when you think of it (We all seem to jump into those “Most Embarrassing Moment” discussions quite easily, don’t we? Why is that?) Or a thought may make you blush as you recollect a situation that happened in your past. Or it may be so severe and deep and utterly shaming that it seared your soul and required/requires years of time and buckets of money on a professional counselor. To whatever level we may feel it, shame is still shame. Most of the time, perfectionists (of which I would be a card-carrying member of this club) don’t necessarily desire to be perfect in order to achieve success, fame or power. Instead, deep down they desire to be perfect so as to avoid feeling and experiencing shame.
Failure leads to rejection which leads to shame.
This discovery is not profound. We all feel varying levels of failure, rejection and shame and, if we have the courage, we might be able to pinpoint exactly the room of our fears in one of those specific areas – to name the shame.
When we experience failure/rejection/shame psychologists tell us that we usually have one of two reactions: fight or flight. We might fight in one of a few ways: physically (we might hit someone – like a schoolyard brawl in elementary school or, worse yet, a murder reported on the local news), verbally (shout, be defensive or sarcastic, etc), mentally/emotionally (becoming bitter and/or enraged, seeking revenge internally).
Some of us, by nature, are fighters… others of us are not. If we don’t have personalities who fight back, many of us take flight. We run away from the situation in various ways, too. Physically (we might literally back away, walk away, shuffle away or run away so as not to be hurt by rejection and shame even more), verbally (if a co-worker makes fun of an idea or shoots down a brainstorm in a meeting where your boss and other co-workers are present, we might become silent and think to ourselves, I will never share another idea with this team again) or mentally/emotionally (we shut down, become numb, feel beaten down and just sort of give up internally).
Depending upon the situation (or the person) we may fight today and take flight tomorrow. But most of us choose one of those two responses as ways to keep us from shame – or keep us from experiencing even deeper levels of shame than we are presently experiencing. (Click on the graphic below to enlarge).
This is a vicious and powerful force in the universe because it is vicious and powerful force in every human soul. Fear and shame motivate people – I know it motivates me – more than we’d all like to acknowledge. Maybe the better word than motivate would be control. Fear and shame exist to control, paralyze and enslave us. Shame is one of the most powerful forces upon our lives.
I’ve wondered in the past year where the gospel comes into this failure/rejection/shame pattern. As I’ve sat with it, I think there’s a third response we can make in addition to fight or flight. We begin to move in the direction of freedom when we choose to yield.
When we yield to the gospel – the work of Christ in our lives – and voluntarily release our responsibility on the outcomes of the situation, we begin to move in the direction of gospel freedom. It’s important to note that the gospel never guarantees that we’ll be free from failure (in fact, being a committed follower of Jesus, we’re told, means that you should expect more failure than the average guy on the street). When we fail – and begin to experience rejection and shame – we have one of three choices: we chose to fight, we chose to run away or yield to the work of the gospel in our lives.
When we yield, the gospel intercepts or interrupts the powerful inertia that moves quickly towards shame and sends us along a new track, a new way of thinking, a new direction in the trajectory of freedom.
The gospel states that yes, we failed. But the gospel says that Jesus loves us, rescues us, in the midst of the mess we’ve made of our lives and he accepts us anyway. Sure, others might still reject us, but if we realize that the God of the Universe loves me and accepts me despite my past, that evokes a sense of belonging like nothing else can. And when we are accepted by God Himself, we experience the polar opposite of shame: honor. The gospel moves us from rejection and shame to acceptance and honor.
Acceptance and honor.
The Gospel says that despite our failures, we are accepted, honored children of the King. Jesus speaks of this in Matthew’s gospel:
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” – Matthew 11:28, The Message
I want in on this kind of life.
Forgive the armchair psychologist thoughts today (and hey, don’t reject me because of it!) but I’m convinced if we get this diagram into our minds, our hearts, our souls, our conversations – into our very bloodstream – we’ll be freer and more whole than ever before.
And just because I know this, doesn’t mean I get this entirely. I’m healing and growing and trying to move in the direction of acceptance and honor, slow as it may seem.
May you live in freedom today knowing that you don’t have to prove yourself, defend yourself or earn respect; instead, may you yield to God, who accepts, embraces and calls you his honored child.
“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free…” -The Apostle Paul to the church in Galatia
There’s been much discussion since my post Thoughts on the mosque at Ground Zero. Most of the discussion has been fruitful and beneficial (though not all has been intelligent or fair). It certainly is a topic that resonates deeply with people from all perspectives.
One of the persons I’ve enjoyed dialoguing with about this topic (and all topics for that matter) is Nathan Elmore, a minister -and friend – in Richmond, VA. Through numerous lengthy emails we’ve discussed each issue carefully, trying to listen well to each other. I’ve learned a lot from him. Nathan is a good thinker. He’s not a man of words – he’s a man of precise words. So much so that I encouraged him to offer up an official response to my original post.
Here’s Nathan’s response which he has entitled Thoughts on the Islamic Center near Ground Zero: Appreciation 101 and Considerations 301: A Response to J.R. Briggs’s post. I appreciate Nathan deeply. This is good and thoughtful writing by Nathan that I believe can spur on greater discussion here.
After reading it, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a comment and Nathan will respond to the comments when necessary.
Nathan: Though much has already been said and will surely go on being said about the proposed Islamic center near Ground Zero in Manhattan, J.R. has invited me to offer a response to his post on August 16. And I’m happy to join the conversation. Notwithstanding the reality that doing so – at this point in the public discourse – feels like something akin to speaking into a vortex of tangled screams and ecstatic gesticulations.
As a collegiate minister at Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU), I travel through and minister on a university landscape that features over 32,000 students representing over 110 nationalities. Because of its English Language Program (ELP) as well as its engineering programs and medical school, VCU is home to thousands of students from an international background and hundreds of students from Muslim-majority countries. On campus this past year, for instance, I personally met and interacted with Muslims who are Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Iranian, Afghan, Saudi, Qatari, Kuwaiti, Lebanese, Palestinian, Uighur Chinese, Malay and, of course, American.
Because of this landscape, our nascent university ministry is making a concerted, long-term effort to engage Muslim students first by being willing to learn – becoming like a guest – then by cultivating sincere, reciprocating friendships. Naturally we hope to grow in our understanding of how to communicate, embody and empower the good news of Jesus Christ among Muslims, but neither the guest posture nor the desire for friendship are, strictly speaking, merely means-to-an-end.
With these hopes in mind, in November 2009, in coordination with the Muslim Student Association (MSA) at VCU, we initiated the Holy Books Conversation, an ongoing dialogue-in-friendship venture between Christian and Muslim students. (If you’re more than casually interested, you can read about the Holy Books Conversation here.)
Now on to the post…
Appreciation 101
First, J.R., I loved your substantially gracious, Christ-infused spirit that really did resonate in, around and through your post on “the Ground Zero mosque.” Undoubtedly, like other readers, I felt connected theologically, spiritually and culturally to most of the substance within your post.
Your central, emphatic appeal to “Love your Muslim as yourself” is no less obvious than it is redundant: it is one of the Great Ones. It is God’s commandment – through Jesus the Christ – that seemingly transcends the issue at hand even as it transcends mere commandment. Chawkat Moucarry, World Vision International’s director of interfaith relations, has said: “As disciples of Jesus Christ, we are under a double obligation to love our Muslim neighbors as ourselves and to share the Good News with them. Not only do the two commands go hand in hand, the second is best carried out as an expression of the first.”
Second, J.R., I could not contain a roaring surge of “Yes, yes!” as you were (briefly) describing the ideals of Islam as a peaceful and, we should say, mostly peaceable religion. My relationships and interactions with diverse Muslims over the last three years – both in Clemson, South Carolina, and now in Richmond, Virginia – anecdotally bear this out.
I’ve attended Friday prayers at mosques in Clemson, Atlanta and Richmond. I’ve had the privilege of studying the Qur’an at the Clemson mosque under an Egyptian imam (whom I interviewed here) and with two other Muslim men (Algerian, Ghanaian) on a weekly basis over the course of a year. I’ve attended Muslim community potlucks with my family (their potlucks are similar, by the way, except for the gender separation and the sitting on the floor and the grape leaves). My wife and I have hosted Muslim men and women for dinner in our home. I’ve interviewed a Muslim in the context of our Sunday worship gathering at the church I served in Clemson. Now, I maintain a growing friendship with the imam of the Islamic Center of Virginia. And of course there’s the Holy Books Conversation at VCU.
Through these interactions and relationships I’ve certainly learned more about Islamic belief and spirituality, Islamic culture and Muslims, than I can relate here. But, J.R., you get the idea. And I would champion: you get the idea. As a Christian leader within your Lansdale community, how you described Islam and depicted Muslims (in your post) realistically appeared informed and shaped by your actual, ongoing, personal relationships with the imam and other Muslims in your community. This was/is extremely encouraging – given the swell of anti-Muslim sentiment among American Christians.
Considerations 301
Language Matters
My first consideration centers on the subject of language.
No doubt this talking-point, for most of us, has been beaten into the ground and then some. Nonetheless I will continue the beating of the ground – at the possible risk of less attentiveness due to media saturation or overkill.
As you, J.R., and other missional Christian leaders who have heard Mike Breen know: language can (does) create culture. Of course, many kinds of leaders have probably observed this axiom and applied it in differing spheres or sectors, depending on their specific culture.
With regard to the subject at hand, I would strongly propose to all Christian leaders who are reading this post: as we wade into and through this weighty and loaded discussion, we really need to take better with our language. We should make a habit of using the language of Islamic center or Park 51 or Cordoba House when addressing this controversy. And the primary reason, from my perspective, is that we are creating a kind of culture – in the communities we are shepherding – with our very language. (Even Almighty Google has been taking some criticism for its use of language on this matter.)
As has been noted ad nausea, the proposed center is, factually speaking, neither a mosque nor at Ground Zero. Hendrik Hertzberg of The New Yorker wrote: “It’ll be on Park Place, two blocks north of the World Trade Center site (from which it will not be visible), in a neighborhood ajumble with restaurants, shops (electronics, porn, you name it), churches, office cubes, and the rest of the New York mishmash. Park51, as it is to be called, will have a large Islamic ‘prayer room.’ But the rest of the building will be devoted to classrooms, an auditorium, galleries, a restaurant, a memorial to the victims of September 11, 2001, and a swimming pool and gym. Its sponsors envision something like the 92nd Street Y, a Y.M.I.A, you might say.”
Even if we say that we are only using a phrase that is the primary currency of some media – i.e., “the mosque at Ground Zero” – as Christians I believe we have a moral responsibility to represent the conversation, with our language, more truthfully and more nobly than that. We do not have to cow-tow to either the frame of the conversation or its predominant tone, as set by the mainstream media or any other media.
To be fair, I could not possibly accuse you, J.R., of necessarily cow-towing (because I know you personally, and because of how you generally represented the discussion in your post). But, interestingly enough, the title of your post would be no different from how Sarah Palin or Newt Gingrich would title an email blast, or a tweet. I’m saying it should be. I’m saying it matters. I’m saying it’s a matter of culture-creating within our Christian communities.
Also, positively, using the language of Islamic center or Park51 or Cordoba House sends a respectful and intellectually credible message to our Muslim friends or neighbors, and this cannot be minimized. By doing so, in effect we are saying: We will resist and oppose the co-opting of the language of “mosque” for religiously-inspired or politically-calculated motivations or machinations.
Here, I am conscious of Jesus’ teaching found in Matthew’s account of the Sermon on the Mount – the specific teaching where Jesus equated angrily insulting someone with murder. Jesus knows, as God only knows, that anger, insults and murder pal around together in the heart more than most people would ever imagine.
But with a concerted use of truer language – which is motivated by moral responsibility, not political correctness – I believe we can, as Christians and Christian leaders, potentially subvert some of the ignorance and fear, anger and hatred directed at Muslims from our own brothers and sisters. Some of these same brothers and sisters are even now fighting with all their huff-and-puff to block proposed mosques/centers in California, Tennessee, Wisconsin and (undoubtedly) elsewhere. Some of these same brothers and sisters are calling for the Qur’an to be publicly burned.
False Dichotomy
At the end of your post, J.R., I very much agreed with your appeal to wisdom as a higher ground above the inevitable right/wrong matrix. But I thought your final question about Jesus-followers not asking “How do we fight for religious rights and freedoms?” but instead asking “How do we love well?” was a bit of a false dichotomy.
Earlier in your post, you drew an interesting distinction between being an American Christian and a Jesus-follower even as you posited the question of a proper “Christianly” response to this controversy. Oh how I know this distinction all too well – as I have used it, too, and it seems a distinction not without some appropriate theological and cultural merit.
But, at the end of the day, as I began to think about your pitting of those two questions against each other, I asked myself: Isn’t the kingdom of God always-ever landing itself in particular cultures, of particular nations and peoples? It is not (it cannot be) divorced from the particularity of cultures and nations, right? It is dynamically caught up in them. What good is it, in fact, if the reign of God, the effective range of his will, is not translated within them?
Yes, I believe that Jesus, and his message and mission, involved transcendent spiritual truth that is timeless – and for all times. Furthermore, I believe that the kingdom of God is the all-encompassing narrative and that it is larger than our often small-minded nationalistic and ethnocentric narratives (a la Glenn Beck, apparently).
J.R., what I think I am laboring to say is: I don’t think it can be done. You in Lansdale, me in Richmond, the person reading this post in Chicago – we cannot not be American Christians. In a very profound way, we can only be. And this is a great and vibrant, if not frustrating, wrestling.
Sure, following Jesus is the prerequisite story, and we must vigorously war against the domestication of Jesus to any number of so-called American dreams. The kingdom of God is bound to be in conflict with life as I know it. But we can’t help but follow Jesus within the kingdom of God within the cultural story we find ourselves (in our case, in the U.S., currently discussing religious freedom and other considerations regarding the Islamic center near Ground Zero).
Along these lines, the other day Cornel West tweeted: “Democracy goes hand in hand with Christian faith. A Christian has an ethical obligation to fight for equal rights for all.” Not everyone may agree with Dr. West on this one, but here I am inclined to agree wholeheartedly with him, and I love how he connected the theological and cultural dots so brazenly.
To your two questions, then, J.R., at the end of your post: Yes, naturally, we who are “little Christ ones” should be about our Lord’s business of loving well – in the many different, expressive and tangible ways we should love our Muslim neighbors as ourselves. And with specific regard to Park51, I do think we can love well by advocating for our Muslim neighbors’ freedoms. These questions, actually, need not be mutually exclusive. It is not that the one (“How do we fight for religious rights and freedoms?”) is a purely political question while the other (“How do we love well?”) is a purely religious question submitting to the category of faith. They are both moral and spiritual questions.
So, no, I don’t always think that when we mix politics and religion, we get politics (in the negative sense you inferred in your post). Sometimes, I believe, we get the re-making of the political order – of how we ultimately desire to live with each other in messy community. And sometimes that re-making (resurrection) of the order of things – yes, even through the mind-numbing mire of American politics – is in harmony with the establishment and society of the kingdom of God. (On this point, I would grant you, there is an assortment of pitfalls. God help us all!)
If they have the right, should they?
Here’s a final consideration, J.R., according to your talking-points within the post.
Many newspaper pundits, cable news yellers, basement bloggers and persons-on-the-street have asked, “If they have the right to build a center there, should they build a center there?” J.R., you took the “it’s too soon” and “it’s too close” tack, coming down on the side that says, “They have the right, but they should not.” Meanwhile, still others have taken the road of asking, “How is this center being financed, by whom, and in connection with which ideologies?” I, like others, think these are both worthy lines of questioning.
However, even if a person decides to come down emphatically on an answer to the “Should they?” question, the question still lingers – almost precariously, and in spite of our strained attempts to put it to death. My guess is: this lingering question is due to its extremely delicate nature. It’s a question to be seen from many angles, depending on from where you are looking (or not looking).
For example, the Muslim cabby, who was recently verbally accosted and then violently stabbed only for being a Muslim, when asked by cab-riders about the proposed Islamic center, said that he was against it and there was no need to put it there. Perhaps he legitimately fears a spike in hate crimes, of which he was a victim. On the other hand, a Muslim U.S. soldier has called the opposition to the center a “big slap in the face” for Muslims serving in the U.S. armed forces – a compelling perspective from a very interesting vantage point.
On the other hand, on August 16 the TV director-general of Al-Arabiya asserted that not only do most Muslims not want a center there or feel it necessary but that a center there risks being a misinterpreted symbol or monument. Good point. Furthermore, maybe it’s a case of misplaced priorities. The other day one Muslim friend of mine quoted a Muslim friend of his on Facebook: “The whole purpose of this project was to build bridges. [Before building an Islamic center] I believe more community outreach is necessary to 9/11 victims’ families. We may be winning legally, but we’re not winning their hearts.”
On the other hand, there’s Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf. Imam Rauf has lived in the U.S. for 45 years. He has served as the imam of a mosque in Tribeca for nearly 30 years. According to what I’ve read, he often denounces terrorism in general and the 9/11 attacks in particular.
In an interview with Al-Jazeera where he articulated his hopes for the center, Imam Rauf stated: “I felt that there is a need for a cultural center, with an agenda that differs from what goes on in the mosques. Here in the U.S., we need to establish an Islamic-American community. Of course, we knew that [the choice of a site] near Ground Zero would make the place well known.”
I’ve interpreted his comments as inferring the following: right there (near Ground Zero) is exactly where we Muslims most need our kind of Islamic project to project itself. His is an understandable, albeit understandably provocative, vision.
Unlike you, I personally don’t come down so resoundingly on an answer to the “Should they?” question. Mostly this is because I sense strongly that we should not implicate all Muslims in what happened on 9/11 and have found theologian John Stackhouse’s perspective extremely good guidance. Even as the controversy continues its trajectory, I have tried to bear in mind that “Should they?” is truly a matter of from where you are asking the question in the first place.
I’ve been to my fair share of church conferences in the past decade. Some have been helpful. Most have not.
The process is similar at just about every conference: thousands of dollars are put into marketing budgets, glossy fliers and paying large honorariums to the top Christian leaders in the country (recognized by their large congregation’s weekend attendance) to come and share how their church got to be so big, so innovative, so special, so efficient. The programming at these conferences is flawless, the presentations are perfect – but for those attendees, the drive home is crappy.
I’m a big fan of learning from wise women and men who have led their congregations well. But 94.3% of pastors who’ve attended these conferences (or somewhere around that number) walk away feeling guilty, insecure or feeling like utter failures. It leaves attendees feeling as though they can’t possibly relate to the speakers on the platform. It can breed insecurity and comparison. Or, maybe worse, we walk away thinking we’ve found the silver bullet, the key concept, the perfect model that we can rush home and implement immediately. We’ve been convinced that the key method/approach/model/style will unlock the reason why our church isn’t doubling in attendance every three and a half months like the guy we heard share on stage. Sometimes pastors’/church leaders’ conferences slowly and persuasively convince that I – we – are the head of our church. Last I checked, Jesus is the head of it.
But seriously, what if there was an EPIC FAIL Pastors’ Conference (with the tag line “Where leaders put their worst foot forward“)?
The concept:
1. Hold a conference for 2-3 days.
2. Invite healthy, faithful, honest and deep pastors/leaders from around the country (most who pastor congregations under 250 people) to speak.
3. Invite the speakers to share about two things: (a) their failures (not their successes) in ministry and (b) how God’s grace was present despite the messes. Think of it: the stories of the messes, mistakes, gaffes, insecurities and sin of church leaders are shared openly, not as experts, but as fellow journeyers. Broken and contrite spirits with a posture saturated with the experience of grace shared with fellow ragamuffins by genuine fools for Christ. Some of it may evoke laughter or tears – or both. The purpose is not to puff themselves up, not to speak with a veiled sense of false humility, not a gripe session, not to have a woe-is-me attitude seeking pity from other leaders and definitely not a “let me one-up your worst ministry experience” time. It’s a space to be courageous and broken and authentic in the struggles of pastors who are attempting to live out the gospel faithfully and imperfectly even when we don’t want to – and even when we screw it up big time.
4. Pray together. A lot.
5. End the conference by participating in communion together: realizing the work of Jesus covers over any mess or mistake or sin we’ve committed, remembering the posture of brokenness and desperation and nothingness is the soil in which the gospel flourishes best.
No, seriously.
I know this idea might sound ludicrous. But what if we led out of our weakness, not our strengths? Scripture is full of failures, screw-ups, ragamuffins and laughingstocks who God used in incredibly powerful ways (Moses, Abraham, David, Jacob, Jeremiah, Rahab, Peter – shall we go on?) If the saying is true that if you preach from your weaknesses, you’ll never run out of material, then imagine the great stuff that could come out of a few days together sharing our failures and how God showed up in the midst of them. It’s not a time to celebrate our weaknesses in a masochistic way, but as a way of saying despite all of this, God’s grace has been sufficient for me on the journey in ministry. God has worked mightily, despite my efforts. He’s working at times – even in spite of me.
If this were ever pulled off, I’m convinced people would NOT walk away from attending a conference and think…
“Wow, that speaker was amazing. I couldn’t possibly be that charismatic of a speaker…”
“That worship leader was incredible. Why can’t we have someone like him on our staff?”
“Man, that pastor preaches to 13,000 each weekend. I preach to 67 – and that includes the noisy children. I’m not very effective or influential…if I could just imitate his style we’d draw thousands.”
…but instead I’m convinced people would walk away and think, God’s grace is sufficient – yes, even for me. Isn’t that the point of this thing called ministry in the first place?
So what now? Truth be told, I’m an idea guy. Give me a whiteboard and a few markers and I can win gold if Brainstorming were an Olympic sport. But I’m in no way, shape or form a great execution guy. So if anyone is as passionate about this idea as I am, email me and let’s talk. I’d love to make this happen (I’m serious about this).
I’m convinced the Church needs something like this.
On Sunday at The Renew Community we participated in child dedications. On a personal level, it was extra-special for Megan and I because we had our boys Carter and Bennett dedicated as well. Though I led the dedication, I found myself saying “we” and “us” not “you” throughout, making my teaching personal – something I found quite refreshing. Child dedications at most churches I’ve been to have the families parade up front, their names are announced (and maybe a picture displayed up on the screen) and a quick prayer is prayed (hopefully) before the children get too squirmy, start picking their noses or start screaming.
But rather than being afraid of squirmy, crying babies, we decided to slow down and not rush the time on Sunday. We’re convinced that child dedications are one of the best ways to remind parents to remain on mission with God so building in time that’s longer than an announcement slot is important. Sure, the kids were whining, tired and unruly (our little man Carter took the cake on this one on Sunday, by the way) but it’s important to see this as a formative time and space.
It was also a great way for our church to be involved in each other’s lives. It was good to be reminded that whether we have children or not, we all have a role to play in the growth, development and maturity of the children within our faith community.
The most prominent metaphor in the New Testament is family. In a sense, a nuclear family is a little church inside of a bigger church. For Israel in the Old Testament, the family was the school where a person learned who he or she was and what God expected them to do. The family is a pillar in the foundation of Church. Even the word children is used over 400 times in Scripture. Jesus values children and openly chastises those who don’t. And we as the Church are called the children of God – wit God as our father. Needless to say, children are a big deal in the kingdom of God.
For us, child dedications do not mean that the child is now a believer. In fact, the term child dedication is actually a misnomer – its actually a parent dedication. As parents we are dedicating – committing – ourselves to God’s work in our families. Mary and Joseph dedicated Jesus at the Temple in a Jewish context, but they were making a commitment themselves to raise this child in the best way possible that he might love God. As Christian parents, we’re placing our children in the arms of Jesus and dedicating ourselves to be missionaries in the role of mommy and daddy. We commit to parenting in such a way that when our children grow up to be able to make their own decision that they would choose to walk in the way of truth and commit to a life in Christ.
The first child dedication in Scripture is 1 Samuel 1-2 when Hannah made a vow with the miraculous birth of Samuel: to give him to the Lord all the days of his life. On Sunday, a handful of families vowed to give their children to the Lord all the days of their lives. We acknowledged together that we’ve been given gifts called children that don’t actually belong to us. Our children actually belong to the Lord – they are on loan. And God, in his grace, has entrusted us parents with the gift of these little lives and asks us to steward these little lives well and wisely – that through our prayers and hopes and words and actions and sacrifices they would grow up to make a decision to follow Jesus. This is a monumental task that cannot be done alone.
I had a charge for the families participating in the dedication. It was two-fold and extremely basic and straightforward.
My charge to the families Sunday was to make a whole-hearted commitment to unapologetically love God more than your children.
The Church hasn’t always addressed this idea of children directly: parents are the greatest tool for spiritual formation the lives of our kids. Not the church, not Sunday school, not Veggie Tales, not VBS. But us - the parents. The Church’s primary job is not to teach children about Jesus (though that certainly is an important part of it). The Church’s primary job is to disciple and equip and train parents to be the primary teachers of God in the lives of their children. Parents who are followers of Jesus are called to be pastors to their own families – and if we don’t see ourselves as pastors in our homes we’ve missed God’s desire for our roles as mothers and fathers.
But the charge on Sunday wasn’t just for the moms and dads. Since we are a community of faith it means that we all have a role to play in this. You’ve heard the adage: “It takes a village to raise a child.” A healthy, biblical understanding of church assumes all of us – singles and other young families, grandparents and divorced middle-aged men, newly marrieds and even other children – have a role in helping to raise a child to see a full picture of God’s goodness in this world. It takes a church to raise a child.
But the element I loved the most about our time was that we asked the parents ahead of time to write out a one to two page explanation of their desires through this child dedication. We asked them to include these elements:
What each parent read was beautiful. One was funny, but meaningful. One was tearful. One family wrote a letter directly to their infant son telling him the commitment they were making to God. They were practical and specific. I loved hearing parents say “Here’s how you – my church – can help us and support us in raising our children.” That’s powerful stuff.
Here’s what Megan read to the community regarding our desire to love our sons Carter and Bennett in a godly way:
This morning we want our children to be dedicated because it helps us remember as parents that our children don’t belong to us. It also releases our kids emotionally back to the Lord. And this time provides accountability to us to pastor our family first before we pastor our church.
We hope to model love, grace and generosity. We desire to model the importance of being a part of a faith community. We hope to instill wisdom in our sons. We hope our home will always be a safe place for them. And we hope that they know that we love to have fun together as a family!
Each night when J.R. prays with Carter at bedtime, he prays the same prayer: that Carter would grow up to have a passionate relationship with Christ, he would be wise and that he would be a leader among men. (Carter knows this prayer well enough now that he prays it for himself from time to time). Currently we are in the process of deciding upon what our life prayer will be for Bennett. And I (Megan) desire that our boys would be able to be honest about their doubts as they work through their own personal relationship with God.
As a pastor’s family, we know pastors’ kids can feel the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) pressure from others in their churches to “behave well.” And while we want our children to behave well we also want them to have a safe place where they can authentically be themselves as they wrestle with faith and grace and how it fits into their lives.
As we all say here in Renew that no perfect people are allowed, what we need from our church community is that you believe that – and allow our two boys to believe that about their lives as well. Extend grace to us as a family, remembering that we are also work-in-progress human beings and are far from perfect. Our family needs you to remember that we need the gospel as much as you do.
Being very practical, with us being one of the few families in Renew who do not have any extended family in the area, this can be exhausting at times. Finding a babysitter can be difficult. The way you can support and help us in raising Carter and Bennett is to give us opportunities to go on dates so we can cultivate a healthy marriage in our family. You can support and help us by babysitting for us from time to time.
And because our family was created through the unique journey of adoption, this poses some unique challenges for them as they grow older. Would you pray for us that both of our boys would know deep within themselves that they are loved by God, by us and many other people?
As Megan was reading I realized that we’ve shared significant moments with all the other parents and families up front – we’ve laughed and cried at some point with each of them – either in their living rooms or in ours. It was beautiful to commit to this together with them as well.
I’m so grateful to be a part of a small, imperfect, messy yet purposeful community where life is lived together – and where commitments are made together as well.
In one of my first classes of my first course of seminary the professor stood up and said: “How would you define ministry?”
That’s easy, I thought. It’s… um…well… it’s….
It seemed like I should be able to answer this quickly and easily, but I couldn’t. I knew what ministry looked like when I saw it in action. I knew people involved in ministry. I knew what ministry wasn’t. I knew somewhat how to do ministry. But I couldn’t actually define it in my own words.
I was stumped.
Our professor let us get into groups with our classmates for several minutes and come up with our own definition, which we presented to the class. We all stumbled through our definitions with very little clarity or confidence. Then our professor stepped up to the board and wrote:
“Ministry is meeting people where they are at and taking them to where God wants them to be.”
Riiiiiight… that’s what I was thinking all along…
At first glance, the definition seems extremely simplistic. Nothing earth-shattering, right? However, since I first heard that definition a few years ago I’ve yet to find a better one. But it still needs some explaining, because what I have believed ministry was in the past is quite different from this definition. Unfortunately, for many of us we (me included) have to unlearn what we thought ministry meant.
“…meeting people where they are at…”
Meeting people. Ministry is always relational. Faithful ministry isn’t a project. Ministry is people. The administrative elements of ministry should only be tools that lead us to building relationships with others.
So many times I want people to meet me where I am at. Churches have had the Field of Dreams mentality – “If we build it they will come” – and a generation or two ago, that worked. But culture is changing. A theologically robust understanding of ministry is meeting people where they are at. On their terms. In their context, not ours. This premise is the basic tenet of the missional mindset. We can’t move people closer to Jesus if we aren’t first meeting, loving, listening, caring and connecting with them on their turf. Incarnational presence and proximity are huge. (Even as I write this the spell check program places a red squiggly line under the word incarnational… fitting, isn’t it?)
“…taking them…”
We go with people. (Notice the two arrows leading to God – that’s me and you). Jesus always had his disciples with him wherever he went. In ministry we don’t slap people on the butt and send them on their way into the great unknown. We journey with them. Love journeys with.
“…to where God wants them to be.”
This seems to be the most difficult. North American culture would finish the sentence “to where they themselves want to be” but following Jesus is not about my wants, my preferences, my desires. North American leadership and management gurus would say, “take them to where you the leader want them to be.” This is not right either. Healthy ministry isn’t controlling people. Simply telling people, “God loves you and I have a wonderful plan for your life” is not Spirit-guided ministry. It’s self-guided ministry. There is guidance and direction and processing that occurs in a space free of control.
Which means as ministers we have to be yielding and listening. Yielding to the work of the Spirit and listening to God’s desires for the life of the person with whom we are journeying.
The process of moving people from their current place (“here”) to where God desires them to be (“there”) is the role of every minister. And this process is called discipleship. Ministers disciple people.
Back in May, Chris Backert, the director of the Ecclesia Network, gave Megan and me a gift. It was a gift (usually the best kind of gift, if you ask me). He and his wife Rachel were about to have their first child and a mentor couple had given them a book on parenting. He ordered a copy for us and handed it to me.
I distinctly remember my first thought when he gave it to me: This book cover looks horrendous.
Chris is a pretty level-headed, even keel guy, never gets too up or down. But Chris kept going on and on about how great this book was and how important it was that we read it. His eyes were getting bigger, the tone in his voice was growing more and more passionate and his volume was rising. Man, I thought, this book must be good if Backert is getting this excited…
Indeed, I had committed the cardinal sin of reading: I had judged a book by its cover. Despite the horrendous cover (and it was awful, let me tell you. I’d post the cover image to show you, but fortunately I can’t locate it) this book was amazing. Shame on me. I now completely understand why Backert was going on and on about this book. It’s the real deal. Now, here I am, going on and on about it. Thanks, Backert!
It’s called Hints on Child Training by H. Clay Trumbull.
A few elements that set this book apart:
[1] The book was first published in 1890. Yeah, you read that right: first published 120 years ago and still is in print. Most books published today don’t make it to their fifth birthday. For a book to be in print this long you know it has to be good.
[2] H. Clay Trumbull is the grandfather of Elizabeth Elliot (wife of Jim Elliot, the famous missionary).
[3] Its written in the polished and thoughtful language. No, it doesn’t read as difficult as Shakespeare, but the reader certainly will be smiling from time to time at the ancient and yet timeless description of things from 1890.
[4] The 30 chapters are short (between 3 – 7 pages) yet are profoundly wise.
[5] H. Clay Trumbull was from Philly. HCT: way to represent!
Trumbull is so intentional in his approach to child training and speaks with an urgency of understanding the significance of the role of a mother and a father in shaping and forming the values and decisions of a young child. The book isn’t just a collection of pithy phrases or theoretical paragraphs of “you should” or “you must.” It’s full of real-life stories and practical examples of how to flesh out these values and how to model them well.
He writes directly about the idea of wisdom only sporadically, but every page communicates a clear link to training up a child to be wise and discerning. Check out some of these words from one of his chapters on denying a child wisely:
“One of the hardest and one of the most important things in the training of a loved child is to deny him that which he longs for, and which we could give to him, but which we would better no have… Next to denying a child necessary food and raiment, for the sustenance of very life, the unkindest treatment of a child is to give him everything that he asks for.”
Whoa. Now that’s deep.
Some of the topics/chapters in the book include:
If you’re a parent of young children (or about to become parents) you must pick up this book.
Seriously. This is a must-read.
Check out this link on Amazon. You can get a used copy for $1. Parents: it’ll be the best dollar you spend all year.
One of the elements I’ve thoroughly enjoyed about my seminary experience is the ability to get to know my professors outside of the classroom. Dr. Derek Cooper is a professor – who I’d now call a friend – and who has enhanced my seminary education through his teaching. (Although I thought that being friends meant that he could have given me a better grade in my last course, but I could be wrong…)
I asked him a few questions about life, seminary and a book that he’s written that deals with both. If you’re thinking about seminary, check out this interview below:
J.R. Derek, tell us a little bit about yourself (family, job, hobbies, etc).
Derek: Although most people would not think this about me, I was born and bred in East Texas. I’ve only been living in the Northeast for the past several years. I originally came to the area because my wife is from suburban Philadelphia, but we have managed to stay here ever since. Together we have three young and wonderful children. I love the historical charm of the area and having four distinct seasons.
Right now I’m navigating between two jobs. I am a professor at Biblical Seminary, where I teach classes in New Testament and Church History. And I also work at a church, where I oversee pastoral care and adult education. When I’m not with family or working, I enjoy traveling, eating out, and being outdoors.
You mentioned joining the staff of a local church as well. How did that happen and why was that something that you desired to do?
Ever since I finished my PhD and began working full-time as a seminary professor, I felt that something was missing in my professional life. I love being a professor, but it does not usually allow you to do other things that I think are of vital importance when it comes to Christian ministry: being with people in their times of need, counseling and praying with them, and spending time with them and their families on a regular basis.
I am also aware of the growing chasm between the church and the academy. I don’t think this is helpful, and I want to illustrate to my students that I love the body of Christ. True theology arises from lived experiences with God’s and God’s people. Too often theological education lives in the abstract world, but I don’t believe that God lives in abstraction. Too often theological education teaches students how to love God, but I don’t believe it has done a great job of teaching people how to love one another. I want to love God and others, and I want my students to do the same. Working at a seminary and a church allows me to do both of these.
It’s encouraging to see that modeled, Derek. I know you recently wrote a book called So, You’re Thinking About Going to Seminary: An Insider’s Guide. Tell me why you wanted to write this book.
I got the idea for this book when I was taking a nap one afternoon in the summer. (My wife and I were teachers and didn’t have kids then, so we took naps everyday!) I woke up and wrote for several hours about a way to help people who were thinking about seminary. I later learned that no one had ever written such a book, so I stuck with it.
I wanted to write the book for several reasons. Not only am I passionate about seminary education, but I think there are a lot of people who desire or need a seminary education but don’t know how to begin the process or where to look. I wrote the book to help people who are thinking about seminary as well as for people who are currently in seminary. I literally tried to answer every thought or question that a person would have about seminary: What is seminary? Do I have to go? How much money does it cost? How do I choose between all the different schools? What program do I pursue? What will I do when I graduate?
I’m sure people might assume that you endorse or recommend one or two particular seminaries in the book, but you didn’t do that. Why not?
I intentionally decided not to endorse any particular school in the book. Nor do I say anything negative about any school. I did this for a couple of reasons. First, the book is designed to help people who are considering seminary regardless of their theological background. It is for Protestants and Catholics, so-called liberals and conservatives, evangelicals and mainliners. It’s not my intention to convert anyone to my brand of theology. I want to help them connect to their brand of theology: to attend the school that is best for them and their circumstances. Although I am an evangelical Protestant, I am not so arrogant as to assume that only such seminaries provide quality educations. That’s simply not true.
Second, people go to seminary for a variety of reasons. Some people want to be educated laypersons, others want to become pastors, and still others want to become licensed counselors or missionaries or college professors. In the same way, some seminaries are excellent at training scholars while others excel at training Christian counselors. The book is designed to help people find the right program and school for them, which will almost always be different from the needs of someone else.
What was your seminary experience like?
I had a unique seminary experience. I have taken classes at six different seminaries over the years—including both urban and suburban schools, denominational and non-denominational ones, ones that are part of larger universities and ones that are independent, liberal and conservative ones, large and small ones, wealthy and poor ones.
But one thing that I have learned over the years is that students—even students who attend the same school at the same time—can have vastly different experiences. You get out of seminary what you put into it. When I was a student, I read and studied a lot—and most of my friends did likewise. So, I look back at seminary and think that it prepared me well for getting a PhD. Some of my other friends don’t have the same impression, because they invested in other things.
If someone reading this was seriously thinking about attending seminary what advice would you give them?
I think there are many things to consider—such as cost, location, theological tradition, type of program, and career objectives. In the book, I discuss each of these in depth, and offer advice on a variety of different topics. I’d recommend that people read through the book to get an idea of whether seminary is right for them as well to learn what to look for when considering their options. Then I’d recommend that they speak with their pastor and family.
I’d love to give more specific advice, but I’ve found that people’s situations can by very different from person to person. If anyone has any specific questions, however, they are welcome to send me an e-mail! I’ve had people write to me from all over the country (even abroad) about their seminary options. I’ve never given the same advice, because their circumstances and locations and backgrounds are usually very different.
Anything else you’d want to say?
Well, having just gotten back from a week of visiting my family in Texas, there are a few things I’d like to say. It’s ironic that houses in Texas don’t have basements (while those in the North do), considering all the tornadoes Texas has.
That’s a good point. I guess I never thought about that…
Also, I wish restaurants in the North would serve sweet iced tea and Diet Dr. Pepper, and have more restaurants that served Tex-Mex and Southern classics like chicken-fried steak and corn dogs and biscuits and gravy. I’m convinced that Northerners would be friendlier if that were the case.
Hmm. that’s an interesting assumption…
On a more serious note, I would love to see a new generation of seminary students who were utilizing their seminary education in innovative ways and learning how to bridge the gap between the church and the academy. I think we are in a transitional stage in terms of theological education, and I’m excited to see what God has in store for us.
Now, about that last paper I turned in…
No comment.
______
If you’re interested in knowing more, check out these links:
The Biblical Seminary website (where he teaches and I attend).
There have been many headlines the past several days regarding the construction of a mosque near the site of the 9/11 attacks in New York City. It’s kicked up quite a dust storm of controversy. And it’s caused me to reflect quite a bit.
The past few days I’ve wondered what a wise response might be to the situation. I’ve tried to listen well, read up on all the information and think critically – and Christianly – regarding the issue at hand. I’ve wondered what a proper response would be – not as an American, not as a American Christian, not as a Republican or Democrat, not as a liberal or a conservative, but as a follower of Jesus who reads the Scriptures, listens to the Holy Spirit and seeks to honor Christ in the way I live and think and act and speak.
The issue is such an emotional issue that if we’re not careful we can allow our passion to get the most of us. But attempting to use my brain more than my heart on this, I’d like to share a few opinions (and they are just that – opinions) as clearly as I possibly can regarding the situation:
What has caused the most controversy are the comments of President Obama three days ago at a White House Ramadan dinner, where he said:
“As a citizen, and as president, I believe that Muslims have the same right to practice their religion as everyone else in this country. That includes the right to build a place of worship and a community center on private property in lower Manhattan, in accordance with local laws and ordinances.”
Some Christians (among many others) have been critical of the President’s stance to support the efforts to have a mosque/Muslim community center build at Ground Zero. Some have asked, ‘How could our president be so cold-hearted to support Islam in such a way when the mosque would be in the shadow of a gravesite of 3,000 dead Americans?’
This may surprise some, but unlike many other Christians, I don’t expect the President – any president regardless of who they are for that matter – to act Christianly. Instead, I expect the President to act patriotically. It’s not to say that presidents past or present can’t be – or aren’t – Christians, but the position of President of the United States of America is to uphold the laws and values of America. He’s upholding the laws of the Constitution, which is what he promised when he took an oath when he was sworn in. Simply put, we cannot expect a President charged with enforcing and instilling the values and laws of the American Empire to live out or honor the values of the Kingdom – especially when many of those values are in direct conflict. When you mix politics and religion, you always get politics.
Regardless if you are for or against our current President, Obama’s job is to primarily uphold American rights (not kingdom values) – which includes freedom of speech and religious expression “in accordance with local laws and ordinances.” We should not be so surprised he has taken such a stance, as he is simply doing what he pledged to do by taking the role as the Commander in Chief.
Someone else pointed out that if we don’t allow people to build because of their track record of killing thousands of Americans, then as a nation we shouldn’t allow the construction of another type of building at Ground Zero either: McDonald’s.
Secondly, many who have spoken in support of the mosque being built speak of the importance of “tolerance.” (Tolerance is such a misconstrued term; it’s probably worth an entire blog post at some point in the future).
Is building a mosque at Ground Zero illegal or inherently wrong? No.
But is it wise? I don’t think so.
I wish the Islamic community in New York City would also be “tolerant” of the situation, realizing how volatile, symbolic and emotional this area of the U.S. is and what it means to Americans. It’s a lightning rod of American ideology. Our lives changed forever on that fateful day. And quite frankly, not enough time has gone by for
the American people to truly heal from such a horrendous experience of September 11, 2001. It might be different if this happened 40 years from now. But its been less than nine years.
Could a compromise be struck? Could the mosque be built in Manhattan 20 or 25 blocks away from Ground Zero, rather than just two? Wouldn’t it be an act of tolerance by the Islamic community to voluntarily choose to back away from this situation with some perspective and be willing to move it a further distance away?
Most Americans know (and if they don’t, they should) that the Islamic jihadists who ran planes into buildings on 9/11 do not accurately represent the beliefs of Islam. Study Islam and you will realize it’s a peaceful religion. A misguided religion, but one that is most certainly rooted in peace. I have Muslim friends at the mosque in our community. When I think about a mosque at Ground Zero I don’t think in terms of theory or politics. I envision the faces of my Muslim friends here in Lansdale such as Imam Mohammed, Shahad, Amhed and Shakir who are kind, compassionate and peaceful human beings. Many areas (though certainly not all) of their lives are worthy of emulation. Let’s make sure that we are not clumping hateful Islamic terrorists in the same category with all Muslims. And if Muslim/American relations are to be improved (as I think they should be) it would be best if we befriended Muslims first. This doesn’t happen through policy in Washington, but by action in your – in my – local community.
For those of us who consider ourselves Christians, we’re called to love our neighbor as ourself. But it gets more specific than that. Our call is care for the Triad close to the heart of God: the alien, the orphan and the widow. What does it mean for us to care for those who are foreigners, immigrants, those non-citizens in the U.S and abroad? I believe this includes Muslims, yes even Muslims at Ground Zero in mosques. For those Christians saying, writing, gossiping, blogging, protesting and shouting hateful things towards Muslims, those behind the mosque at Ground Zero or at our President and other politicians, stop it. Right. Now. You are not being helpful. You are not being accurate. You are not representing our Founder well. Jesus said to love your Muslim as yourself.
No doubt, the situation is quite complex. I’ve not tried to over-simplify the issue at hand, but simply force us to look at the situation critically – as much with our heads as with our hearts.
In closing, its important to keep this in mind: As Americans, the question is not: “Is this right or wrong?” Instead, it is: “what is most wise in this situation?” As followers of Jesus, the question is not, “How do we fight for religious rights and freedoms?” Instead, it is “How do we love well?”
What are you thoughts?
How are you processing the events of the last few days yourself?
It’s hard to believe that I will be graduating with my Masters in Missional Theology in the spring from Biblical Seminary.
Five more classes to go… I’m almost done (I’ve been working on this for almost eight years!)
I’m excited as I lean into the fall. I’ll be taking a class with Dr. John Franke called Theology, Ethnicity and Gender. Should be a mind- and soul-stretching class. For as much as Franke has brought to the seminary, I’ve never had a class with him until now.
Biblical is also developing a few new programs – the one I’m most excited about is a Certificate in Missional Church Planting. I’m very excited that Biblical is unrolling this program this fall which combines both online and intensive week-long on-campus residency courses. Courses include Dynamics of Healthy Missional Community, The Church Planting Process, Funding the Vision, Leading the Missional Community, Understanding and Engaging Ministry Context and Coaching for Leadership and Cultural Development. These courses look good enough that I may actually audit a class or two…
If you’re a church planter – or thinking about planting a church – you should check out this program.
Last week I was invited to speak at Elmbrook Church in Milwaukee with Impact, their 20-somethings ministry led by my friend Jim Vining. I spoke on the topic of Chasing Wisdom. I am no expert, but I am becoming more and more aware of just how valuable it is to attain it. During the evening we explored the significance of wisdom and how we could pursue wisdom intentionally as young adults. How can we chase wisdom?
The Proverbs are pretty blunt about wisdom and its preciousness. But our culture finds little value in wisdom. Don’t believe me? Name five well-recognized wise women and men in our culture who are role models for young adults (No, Gandalf does not count – and neither does Dr. Phil). But we can immediately name people in the media who are known for their foolishness (isn’t that what TMZ’s business model is based upon? Jersey Shore, anyone?)
Proverbs 3 and 4 says this:
“Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her.” (3:13-15)
“Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words or swerve from them. Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you. Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding. Esteem her, and she will exalt you; embrace her, and she will honor you. She will set a garland of grace on your head and present you with a crown of splendor.” (4:5-9)
Do you believe that? Really believe that?
I struggle to believe this at times. Why? Because my life would look a lot different if I did.
But there are a lot of misconceptions around wisdom: It’s the same thing as knowledge. The older you get the wiser you automatically become. You either have it or you don’t. I really can get by with my education and experience and street smarts.
But wisdom is knowledge aptly applied. Doing the right thing at the right time for the right reason.
But what does it mean to orient my life in such a way that the pursuit of wisdom is a high priority? What can I do about it? The premise of what I shared was this: wisdom is revealed in how we handle five primary areas of our lives: our finances, our sexuality, our friendships, our time and our tongue.
When I read the Proverbs I find that most of its content addresses these five areas of our lives.
May we chase wisdom today. It is more precious than rubies.
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