Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Thanks for the Encouragement, Donald Miller!

I needed to hear this little note today.

Just a little pity-party...I'm over it now.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 10: Chapter 8

Reminder: I've been working through this book with my old college roommate, Hollywood. His church is going through it, and I thought it'd be fun to go through this book about a fictitious New England church realizing that they're "aging" and struggling through the aspects of what that is and what it looks like so it doesn't die. Anyway, these are the thoughts this book provokes as I go through it...and it won't hurt for you to read the earlier entries on this.

I read a book that was really popular among the business folks a few years back. One of the discussions was on something called "The Law of Competitive Balance." In effect, what this means, is that strong teams/companies are drawn to becoming weaker, and weak teams/companies are drawn to becoming stronger.

For example, if your company sells widgets and is in direct competition with other companies that sell widgets, and your company was far and away the nation's leader in widget sales, then you'd put up with some poor salespeople or bad support staff because, well, you're at the top of the heap. No need to rock the boat because things are working.

If your company was a start-up or near the bottom in sales, you'd be pretty quick to get rid of salespeople that couldn't do the job because, well, you have nothing to lose. You're in last place. So why not bring in some new faces, right?

In sports, say if you're the Yankees, you might put up with a 2nd baseman who was a poor hitter and average fielder because you just won a championship. If you're the Senators and 34 games out of the playoffs, you give all sorts of minor leaguers the chance to come up and see what they can do. You have nowhere to go but up.

I think this theory applies in churches, too. And to specific ministries in churches as well.

For example, let's say that you're a megachurch and you have a nursery program that has large numbers of kids. In budget meetings and vision discussions that ministry might get whatever they want financially and very little discussion of their value in the church because lots of kids are coming, the staff is happy and they're busy as beavers in that area. Things are going well, so no need to check up on 'em.

The dark side is that they might not be doing the ministry that they're supposed to be doing. In other words, they may have started out with a goal to show love to little babies by caring attention by individual staff members. It's possible that all the volunteers are now doing things like manning check-in stations, charging pagers, recording attendance, managing staff and volunteers, etc.

But, because things are "going well" there could be a tendency to just assume that things are hunky-dory. Everybody just hums along in budget and staff meetings because somebody says, "Man, we're swamped. We need volunteers, more and more every week. We've got to purchase new toys. We've got to develop a new way to sanitize the toys between services." It can be hard to say, "But are the children being held and read to? Are the children being show love by caring staffers? Are we making sure to calm crying kids? Are they being changed/fed and comfortable while they're here?"

Why is this hard?

Because you have to have some sort of touchstone to evaluate programs.
Because you have to remember to revisit the touchstone.
Because if you revisit touchstone to evaluate programs, then you actually have to do it.
Because if you evaluate the programs, especially the successful ones, you might have to eliminate or significantly change, that program.
Because if you eliminate that program, or significantly change it, folks might be disappointed or frustrated or whatever else might come up due to the changes.
Because people will wonder why you're "fixing something that's not broken."

Well, the reality is that it might not be broken...it just might not be your touchstone value.

A perfect example of this happened when we were building our 60,000 square foot facility. A group of people decided that we needed to begin and develop a "Christian" school underneath the umbrella of our church. Not a bad idea, right?

So, the elders discussed it. Honestly and prayerfully.

The answer was "no."

The reason was "it's not what WE do."

There are a couple of VERY good Christian schools in our area. Both large and small, pricey and competitively priced.
We're a church that doesn't want to be the business of that kind of education.
Because it's not where we want to spend our time, energy and resources right now...
...and likely not ever...

...UNLESS WE CHANGE WHAT WE VALUE.

So, we said "no" to something that is inherently a good thing. We could choose to do that thing. It would likely be done very well by us. It would have some benefits to not only our church, but also for our community. Why say "no?" Because it's not what we valued.

(again, understand that we can choose to change what we value).

We've said "no" to some very good programs and ministries, too. Big name, successful ministries that lots of other churches have and do. Which is why we don't have some of them: Their might be that same ministry at a church 2 miles from us. It might not be something that we agree with doctrinally. It might not be where we choose to put our money and priorities.

Because we should have that touchstone to make those decisions.

And we should constantly be fighting the law of competitive balance and evaluating not only what we want to do, but also what we're already doing.

And that's what MacDonald says with his fictitious characters in Chapter 8:
"I think it's important to periodically revisit both the original need and the corresponding vision to see if they still form the basis of the present existence. Is there still faithfulness to the original dream, or has it been forgotten? And if forgotten, why?"


Let's apply this to me, shall we? I mean, I was hired almost 14 years ago because I was in alignment with the values of my current church. Some of those I mentioned in an earlier entry, but things like...
...exegetical teaching of God's Word is primary to me.
...this teaching is filtered from the idea that His grace is the primary motivation in the Spiritual life.
...that I believe that the spiritual life is best taught in the context of relationships.
...that I believe small groups are the best way to get a steady input of exegetical teaching and life-on-life discipleship going.
...that teenagers are part of the Body right now and should be using their gifts and talents to help our church grow in maturity (not some part of this vague "leaders of tomorrow" mindset).

So, here's the deal: If the elders of my church changed their vision for ANY reason, they would maybe let me know that I don't "fit" anymore. So, if they decided they wanted to have large, mid-week services at our building and wanted to commit to that and eliminate small groups at all levels, well, I hope they'd have the moxie to tell me how much they've appreciated my ministry over the long-haul, but that since the vision is different, they'd lovingly steer me towards another church that values my style of ministry.

I feel confident they would do that very thing, too.

But the most unloving thing they could do would be to keep me around because "he's been here a long time and has a track record of excellence." It sounds nice, but you gotta do what it is that you do. Not only corporately, but individually. Sports teams have to. Businesses have to. Schools have to. Churches have to. Countries have to (U.S. Constitution, anyone?). Nobody is exempt.

And, it's Biblical: Without vision, the people perish. Proverbs 29:18.

But you gotta check up on your vision.

And evaluate if you're still doing what you do, or if what you do needs to change.

Or the law of competitive balance rears it's ugly head.

And sometimes you gotta make REALLY HARD and painful decisions. Or, sometimes you get to enjoy past decisions and it makes your job easier and everybody's motivated and happy.

But ignore it and go with the flow at your peril.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 9: Chapters 6 and 7

Reminder: I've been working through this book with my old college roommate, Hollywood. His church is going through it, and I thought it'd be fun to go through this book about a fictitious New England church realizing that they're "aging" and struggling through the aspects of what that is and what it looks like so it doesn't die. Anyway, these are the thoughts this book provokes as I go through it...and it won't hurt for you to read the earlier entries on this.


I've said before that I grew up in church youth ministry's "golden age." It was when churches got serious about making the commitment to professional youth ministers and budgets big enough to do things like lock-ins and Super Bowl (er, um, I mean, Championship Game) parties and rallies at high school stadiums with famous athletes for speakers. We didn't hurt for what amounted to positive entertainment with a Christian twist.

We went to these "outreach" events that went something like this: Go to the lock-in. Play games like Blind Volleyball (put a sheet over the net where you can't see what's on the other side and use a beach ball) or War Ball (dodge ball on steroids, with jails and freedom shots), use free time to shoot hoops or play ping pong or foosball or pool, eat all the pizza you could stand, watch a G-rated Disney movie, and about midnight a speaker would come out and give some sermon designed to talk about when he came to Christ. He would. Then a band would sing and we'd all have the chance to walk down an aisle and pray with a staffer to "receive Christ."

At the Super Bowl (er, um, Championship Game) party they'd turn the game off at half-time and there'd be a mini-sermon with the same chance to walk an aisle and pray with a staffer to "receive Christ."

Same for the stadium rally. A retired N.F.L. kicker would be the draw and he'd talk about what his life used to be and what it is now, and then the pastor from the area Big Huge Baptist Church would give a sermon and there'd be a chance to walk an aisle and "receive Christ." Sometimes, it wasn't the N.F.L. kicker but rather a big-name Christian holding the conference at a basketball arena but it always ended with walking an aisle.

One time, on a beach during a college fraternity free-for-all weekend (called, oddly, "House Party" in which all fraternities and sororities invaded all the hotels on a mile long strip of Fort Walton Beach, Florida--society was a lot less litigious back then) this random stranger came up to me and asked me if I died tonight if I knew where I'd go. I told him yes, and he was able to put his little "Four Spiritual Laws" booklet back in his backpack.

When I started working with Youth for Christ, they taught us how to draw a slightly modified version of the "Four Spiritual Laws" booklet on a napkin. They felt that was more "personal" when dealing with teenagers. It was called "Your Most Important Relationship." There were boxes full of these booklets in our office, but we weren't supposed to use them in one-on-one situations...so I had them in my glove compartment. Not sure why.

It seems funny to me now because my guess is that my generation wasn't all that thoughtful when it came to making one of the biggest life-changing decisions a person can make. I mean, we were willing to go to a high school football stadium, watch a funny slide show, hear a kicker talk for 15 minutes, hear a pastor talk about Jesus (well, at least *around* Jesus--usually loaded with how our poor choices highlighted our need to be cleansed of sin, so 38 minutes of a discussion of all the kinds of sins we did with 2 minutes about what Jesus did to fix all that seems about right) and in the span of an hour make a decision that would profoundly affect life as we knew it.

In this day and age, it seems even more peculiar that others designed programs to get us to do that very thing. And put a lot of money and resources towards it. At the time it seemed so "effective" and "normal."

I won't bore you with the variations and mutations and evolution that youth ministry has gone through in the last 20 years. Suffice to say my own student ministry, as recently as 5 years ago, made a significant commitment to the development of a coffee shop in the basement of our church. We procured a used Starbucks machine, hired a staff person to manage it, had hourly-wage baristas, our own menu, our own roaster, cut a hole in the side of the building and built and outside porch. It was designed for hanging out and drinking coffee.

Sure, we had a few special nights designed to get teens coming in. We had Derek Webb play there one night (which might've been the best night Roads Coffee House ever had), held weekly viewings of The Bachelor's first season (the finale night had a ton of folks there), various movie nights, and my favorite, "Poetry Burn" night--kids would read or show bad art, or love notes from old boyfriends, or journal entries from middle school--all light-hearted/mildly embarrassing stuff--and then burn it in the "fire of redemption."

Why all this?

To build relationships with teens. Communication of the Gospel message no longer could be done by a simple booklet that narrowed down the greatest moment in human history to 4 bullet points or drawn on a napkin that showed two sides of a canyon with a cross as a bridge or getting a bunch of teary-eyed guilt-laden teenagers to walk down an aisle. It had to happen in a relational context...and this place gave us a venue to get to know teens.

Know their stories.

Let them hear ours.

To let them know we really liked/loved them. That we really cared about them.

Then, once that relationship was established, you could talk about Christ in a very personal way. In a way that means something specific to their life and situation. It wasn't a one-size-fits-all approach.

Now, don't get me wrong, kids. Billy Graham rocks. Stadium ministry had a time and place in our culture (roughly 1945 to 1995--not a bad 50 year run, eh?) as did Super Bowl (er, um, Championship Game) parties with a speaker, and lock-ins and basketball arenas. I mean, lots of spiritual growth started that way for a lot of people that's still bearing fruit.

But now even our coffee shop is closed. See, we were in process of figuring out how to move that very coffee shop across the street to the shiny new shopping village because we figured out that kids were no longer coming because, well, every church was having a coffee shop and they were beginning to feel like people were using that as a method and not really caring about THEM as much as about making sure THEY heard about Jesus. It became it's own program.

In the simplest terms: The teens were beginning to feel like little bitty evangelistic targets. So, they shied away from it.

So, we started to design a way to have a coffee shop as a business. This was in conjunction with an overhaul of our student ministry that my unbearably talented staff designed and we were beginning to implement, but then...

...well, that's a long, tired, well-worn story that's been hashed out over the last few years.

Anyway, I tell you all that because chapter 6 is a dust-up of postmodernism, and would be an excellent read for somebody of an older generation who just wanted an overview of where this generation is and how they got here.

But the point is well-taken: Yesterday's methods DO NOT work with the 18-35 age group, folks. And, as a reminder, "yesterday" can be about 5 or 10 years ago.

And here's a couple of quotes that highlight the very thing, again using his fictional characters to do the talking:
(after hearing the 4-Spiritual Laws, someone of a previous generation might say) "That makes sense; I'll give my life to Christ. And this could happen theoretically in the space of 15 minutes or in an evening, such as at a Billy Graham rally. I want you to think about that for a minute. We actually have thought you could get people to reconsider their entire life organization in the space of a few minutes and make a decision that would redirect their entire lives, to the end of time. Incredible as it seems, it worked for a period in history--particularly for our generation."

And...
"In my opinion, that's (the lack of new converts in their church in the last few years) because we've been trying to convert people the old way, a way that doesn't work any longer. People aren't feeling guilty about their sins, and they're not interested in hearing about forgiveness because they don't feel the need to be forgiven."

Now, this is where the next question in the reader's brain should be, "Well, if that's true, now what?"

And MacDonald gives the answer in chapter 7, using a response to fictional character Ernie:
"We're in a new era where people want less of your carefully scripted evangelism sales presentation and more personal demonstrations of your genuineness, your authenticity. They want to see evidence that what you believe has legs--that it does something. They're not impressed with suits and ties, with empty repeated ceremony repeated over and over, and with people who talk big but don't deliver on their promises. Rather, they're drawn to untrained voices in music, torn jeans, passionate emotions, and real stories. Fail there, and you lose them. Show your heart and you win them."

And that's the key.

We can't be slick and polished anymore (one reason I'm convinced the age of the suburban megachurch has crested and beginning to decline).

We can't be salesmen anymore. We shouldn't rely on church-hopping for church-growth. Just because we've got a bigger/better deal going or a more personal/charismatic leader doesn't mean we're Spirit-led.

We can't woo with fancy programs and movie-clip sermons and "music with excellence" because, well, they're not impressed. And when/if we choose to do those things, we have to be careful to do that in the right spirit with the right understanding.

We have to design systems to listen to their story and tell our own. Which means we can't throw money at it. We have to throw time at it. We have to treat the younger subculture as we would if we were going to another continent to minister...wouldn't we study their culture/language/customs and take the Gospel to them in their context?

And we have to work at relationships.

And we have to choose to love.

Which is really the new apologetic, which is really the old apologetic, as I've said before on this blog for years.

And this isn't safe or comfortable...right, patrons?

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 8: Chapter 5

Reminder: I've been working through this book with my old college roommate, Hollywood. His church is going through it, and I thought it'd be fun to go through this book about a fictitious New England church realizing that they're "aging" and struggling through the aspects of what that is and what it looks like so it doesn't die. Anyway, these are the thoughts this book provokes as I go through it...and it won't hurt for you to read the earlier entries on this.


Long story short: There was a television show a few years back called Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. The bit was exactly what the title implies in that a team of homosexual guys with a keen sense of style and fashion would help a straight guy get his appearance improved while getting ready for some event. Laughs ensued.

Well, my sister thought it'd be a howl for me to get on the show and I forget all the details but I actually got called by the producers to be on the show when the group came to Dallas. I mean, everybody knows I'm a fashion/style disaster, but there was this wedding I was performing that summer and I got through the screening because, well, I'm a fashion/style disaster who now has a reason to get his fashion/style act together.

During the interview the lady asking the questions was trying to figure out if I'd be a good fit for the show and she asked me something about whether or not I'd take the cast playfully mocking me and my view of style (or lack thereof) and if I'd be okay with them throwing away stuff and giving me new stuff. My response actually made her laugh when I said, "No problems with that, but can they take it if they come the realization that they can change my wardrobe, but they can't make me CARE?"

And that's true, too. I'd have been a good sport and maybe even worn the clothes they gave me on a consistent basis...but I'm not too sure that I'd ever actually CARE about it.

While the chapter highlights the shifts in church life & ministry that's currently taking place...and gives it a historical context--everything from John Wesley's street preaching and Billy Graham's stadium crusades. Basically, the cultural shifts around the church have affected changes in how churches do and view ministry. My thoughts went a slightly different direction, much like my screening interview the television producer.

The chapter itself is pretty insightful and I don't disagree with many of the current trends. We'd all add a few or take away a few given our particular church. But...

It talks about a crisis in men's ministry as the time demands in their work/family create a void in their ability to lead.
It talks about a reality that women, particularly young women, have questions about their roles within a church's ministry, both in paid/professional and "lay" leadership.
It talks about how singles stay single longer than in previous generations and how ministries need to be aware of this reality in ministering to college & younger adults.

Another long story short: I've spent a lot of time talking with the older generations of folks in my Tribe about how this generation has a decidedly different view of almost everything in society than they do. Most of the time I'm met with polite questions and asked my observations on what that "looks like." If the conversation goes far enough, they'll ask what are some of the things that we could do to be sensitive to the next generation of the church.

We even had a church meeting a couple of years ago where we broke into smaller groups and the groups were each given a pastor and an elder. Well, I was the pastor at one of the groups that asked the elder a question regarding that very thing. They'd noticed a lack of younger couples/families/collegians in our midst and asked the elder what we planned to do about that.

The answer was given with generalities and then he yielded the floor to me. I kind of laughed and asked them if they really CARED...because, well, as I told them, "You have NO IDEA what you're asking." Because the bottom line is that if an older generation is serious about reaching the next one, well, it's gonna be the older generation's oxen that get gored. They're going to have to sacrifice things they like.

Later that very night, I was pulled aside by somebody that said they didn't see themselves staying at our church if we implemented some of the things I mentioned because they liked things the way they are, and it really didn't matter to them if the church died in 15 years because they wouldn't be here, anyway.

In short, she really didn't care.

She wanted the younger folks there, but not at the expense of things she held dear.

Then the chapter talks about our reaction to the realities I mentioned earlier, from both a staff perspective as well as volunteers. But what struck me is the potential for the older generation to...

...well...

...simply not care.

You know, that we've got "ours," and after we're gone, they can have theirs. I've heard people in leadership positions say things like "I'm not ready to be put out to pasture. They can wait their turn." I have people in leadership positions say things like "when they start giving more, they can have more say in what goes on here." I've heard people in leadership positions say "we built this building and put in these programs because they work and if they don't like it, there's plenty of other churches doing that stuff."

Of course, I've heard people say the opposite, too. I mean, they've asked sincere questions as to how we can get the younger generation in the meetings. They've let me know that they remember what it was like to struggle through the child-rearing stages and wondered how they could give more support during that time. They've mentioned that they'd gut the building and completely redecorate if it meant that the younger generation would show up.

But I get the idea this chapter was a call to examine your own comfort. Your own heart and attitudes toward the things you hold dear, whether that's a leadership position or a style of worship or a building design...

...and that can be difficult because if you...

...well...

don't really care...

...then something's gotta change.

And...

...if you do really care...

...then action has to ensue.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 7: Chapter 4

Reminder: I've been working through this book with my old college roommate, Hollywood. His church is going through it, and I thought it'd be fun to go through this book about a fictitious New England church realizing that they're "aging" and struggling through the aspects of what that is and what it looks like so it doesn't die. Anyway, these are the thoughts this book provokes as I go through it...and it won't hurt for you to read the earlier entries on this


Chapter 4 piggybacks on a statement of MacDonald at the end of chapter 3, "I had one goal for this evening. To get you thinking about exactly what you're thinking--about what kills churches. But there's something else that kills churches, and no one's mentioned it."

That's the backdrop for a discussion the fictional small group has about the necessity of a church to constantly "reinvent." He uses the examples of the early church moving from the Temple to people's homes, and from "professional" ministry to individuals using gifts. He also touches on the American auto industry moving from horse-and-buggy to Henry Ford mass-production of automobiles and how the entire culture had to adapt.

At the end of the chapter, he quotes the character Yvonne, who'd opened the group in prayer:
"Well, I prayed that God would give us the power to listen and learn, and I for one feel that prayer has been answered. I have to tell you all that I've let my age speak too loudly to me. There's something here I have to deal with. I'm beginning to realize that I want the church to be a place of safety and comfort. But Jesus was saying to those disciples that serving Him would be a life of danger and discomfort. Somewhere along the line I forgot that."

Yep.

He said it.

Ultimately, one thing that can kill a church is to allow for comfort and safety to rule the roost.

And, I think he's right about the need to reinvent. As I've said before, student ministry is a place of almost constant reinvention. I mean, every year about 25% of the group graduates and 25% get promoted into it. The dynamics change at least yearly. The maturity level of the group is unstable. To keep up, you have to reinvent.

For example, this year, we noticed that while we had a very mature senior group, we had a somewhat immature group in the underclassmen. Our Sunday School class method wasn't working for younger teens. So, we decided to replace the amphitheater style of seating we'd been using with round tables for small group discussion and relationship building. Interestingly, it failed.

Miserably.

So, in December, we went back to the old style...and then tried something new: Allowing those underclassmen to lead the middle school ministry as we teach through elements and styles of worship. This is causing them to grow more quickly, because they have to study more and be involved in the process. This, in turn, is helping our student ministry Sunday School class--using the older method, but with teens who have a new mindset.

Think of that: 2 reinventions in 4 months. Yet, we're growing not only spiritually, but also numercially at a rapid pace, even in the springtime (a very poor time for most ministries to grow).

Even Madonna reinvents every 2 or 3 years. I mean, she went from the material girl to the "material mom" to spiritual diva to serious artist (and I'd suggest her song "Ray of Light" might be the very best she's written, and she wrote it in her 40's). We're watching Miley Cyrus do it now. Filmmakers. Authors. Steel industry executives.

You gotta reinvent or you will die.

Seems obvious to me.

Patrons?
Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 6: Chapter 3

Reminder:

I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.


Chapter 3 is really a reminder that people are actually the Church...not programs. Which kind of piggy-backs onto my entry from earlier in part 5. MacDonald says:
"As far as Jesus is concerned a church is not a building, not an institution, not an organization. A church is people...little more! It's a living thing, and it only gets to live as long as it's doing the right things. And when it stops doing the right things, Jesus is--what's our term?--out of there? As far as he's concerned, it's no more useful than a pile of stones."


Yes. I agree that Jesus can leave a church to their own devices. Revelation 2 & 3 are examples. I also think a case can be made from the early chapters of Romans that He will allow us to suffer the consequences of our personal choices.

Such is life.

And, I guess, the earlier entry helps me define what those "right things" are. There may be a couple of more "right things," or others might have some they'd take away from my list, too. That's where the sticky part comes in. You gotta define the right things for you and your church...which, in some church governing systems it would be the elder board. Others it might be the paid staff (in effect, functioning as an elder board) and then ratified by a deacon board. Other churches it might be by an ad hoc committee, etc.

Doesn't matter the WHO as much as it matters what the "right things" are.
Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 5: Chapter 2, Entry 2

Reminder:

I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.


After the last entry, somebody asked me what I preferred in churches. They were really asking me what musical style I'd prefer in a church service, but I didn't know that until I answered with the following:

First, exegetical teaching. I once had a seminary professor tell the class that teaching Scripture was the art of letting the Bible speak for itself and getting yourself out of the way. Wise man, Dr. Constable. Anyway, I'm big on a verse-by-verse study of a book or letter. I'm not much for the current trends with sermons that are focused on the listeners "How to Fix Your Life" or "Seven Days to a Better Prayer Life." All teaching should focus on Him and His Word...that goes for sermons or small group lessons. I even taught exegetically in my "film and theology" class.

Second, a grace-based filter for interpretation. You need to understand that I'm convinced Scripture teaches that His grace is the primary motivation for living the Christian life now. See, most churches are really good at teaching grace when it comes to salvation, but then quickly go into behavioral codes for living now...which I believe ultimately arrests spiritual development. So, I'm a big believer in consistently teaching that grace motivates us to live now, which keeps me from "majoring in the minors." In other words, I don't have to focus on what rock group my teens have on their t-shirts or what movies they go to, or even how many "quiet times" (again, I've never understood why that term/idea has caught on in evangelical culture) they've had this week, and can focus on them abiding in Christ and abiding in His Word. I've got bigger fish to fry than simple behavioral managament.

Third, an emphasis on small groups and one-on-one discipleship. Too often, in our culture the primary growth venue is seen as the main worship service. But, let's be honest: A lecture hall full of 400 people is not very effective when it comes to discipleship. It might be good for information, but I'd suggest that a lunch time conversation afterward about the information would be more helpful in the discipleship process. I mean, I get more discipleship done in my Wednesday night group of guys (usually following up comments with coffee or something to get one-on-one) than I do in my Sunday School "lecture." In small groups, they can ask questions. They can bring up personal situations as examples for application. You can talk about where you struggle. The one thing I've always thought was peculiar was that I tell parents that they need to have their teen in a small group of some sort, and they do, but then the parents aren't involved in any type of small group (and I agree that we've got to expand our vision for what those look like) whatsoever. Yes, exegetical, grace-based teaching needs to be at the forefront of small groups.

Finally, an emphasis on ministry "by the Body." So many churches say they do this, but mostly, it's the paid staff getting it stuff done. But I believe it's true that every believer, no matter what age, no matter what personality, no matter what, has been given a spiritual gift to help the church grow/mature. They need to be using that gift, and it's up to the paid staff to be discipling them in ways they can use that gift, and provide opportunities to use that gift and ensure they're being used well.

So, frankly, I don't view the main service as anything more than what it is: a gathering of believers (with visitors present on occasion) worshipping through the (exegetical) teaching of the Word, giving, song, etc. So, when somebody asks me what I'm looking for in a church, well, I think bigger picture.

Because you can do small groups LOTS of ways. You can do the main service using many different methods. You can have many ways to allow the gifts of people to be used effectively. But those elements should be there.

So, when they asked me what music I like, you can see why I might've misunderstood the question. Now, if you're asking me my preference: I'd go with some kind of grunge music. That soft-loud verse-chorus-verse style seems to allow for reflection and enthusiasm and getting to the point. However, what I'd really prefer is a rotation of musical styles so that every group in the church gets their favorite "style" at some point every 6 weeks or so, and then gets to serve others by trying to enjoy the other "styles" of those older and younger the other weeks. The only other real option I see is coffeehouse style...with a guitar and simple drums because almost every age group could get into that in some way. But I'm much more in favor of rotating styles. More people can get involved in the ministry.

Seems to me that is Biblical.

But that's what I look for in a church: People who love each other and are willing to serve on another even if it makes them uncomfortable. And I think those four elements are what gets folks there the fastest.

Your thoughts, patrons?

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 4: Chapter 2

Reminder:

I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.


Let's simply be honest and put it out there:

We all have a version of doing church that we prefer.

A perfect example was our church's men's breakfast a few weeks ago. We started with some table questions to get to know each other...everything from our favorite movie of all time to our opinion of the most important decision you can make in life. I really enjoyed this because there was a pretty healthy mix of generations at my table, everyone from a middle school guy to retirees. And the speaker was the head elder at our church and everybody likes to hear from him.

It was the "worship" time that caused a few thoughts to pop into my head like, "I'm glad I didn't highlight this to my high school guys" and "I'm glad this wasn't the Saturday some of our new college guys decided to give the men's breakfast a visit." See, there was a banjo involved. And the song choices certainly would've made my grandparents happy.

Now, before you type the hate comments, let me say that the singing was loud. And enthusiastic. And it was certainly well-played by talented musicians. My point is that this isn't my cup of tea...not that it wasn't good or worshipful or whatever. It certainly was appreciated by the majority of the guys there.

I'd expect the same reaction from the older folks if I'd had booked Stavesacre for the men's breakfast. That certainly wouldn't go over well among that group.

Anyway, my point is that we all have our preferences when it comes to how we do church.

This is something MacDonald highlights in chapter 2. In his fictional group discussing the changes at their fictional church, one of the group members, Clayton (a realtor) has this to say:
"I meet people all the time who are moving to our city. They want to know about schools, shopping malls, libraries, the whole nine yards. I always want to tell them about my church, but, you know, I usually don't. And I guess it's because I love my church--I really love all of you--sometimes I'm embarrassed about it. I just fear they're going to be disappointed if they come. Are they going to see real Christianity here? Or are we just a bunch of people running a Bible club, more worried about what's in it for us than for someone looking for something better than they've got?"

A few questions come to mind:

First, do we really want to be authentic Christians? There are dangers when we let people see past what we want them to see. We all have little skeletons we'd prefer to keep deep in the closet behind the designer clothing.

Second, how many of us actually meet new people to the degree that we'd ever get to a point of inviting them to our church? I mean, this is easier said than done if you're not in a formal education setting. And, PTA or sports team parents or civic groups often don't leave enough time for deep relationships.

Third, are we truly pleased with how our church would appear to a visitor checking it out for the first time? Many of us haven't visited a church once we found one. Do we know that our website is now the official first visit, anyway? They're gonna check out whatever interests them (from doctrine to kids offerings), listen to a sermon, etc., before they ever drive up. Who do our graphics on posters/printed materials appeal to? All this stuff matters.

Fourth, as the author asserts, if the leadership were to make changes in the church, would we be truly open and honest about the POSSIBILITY that it's God who is doing the changing? Or would it be a gripe session, with the eventuality that the church is going a different direction that we are so we choose one of the other 10 great churches in the area that makes us feel most comfortable? Is a consumer mentality even a bad thing?

Finally, do we really care if our church "out lives" us? I mean, would some people be happy for "their" church to stay the same as long as they didn't have to be uncomfortable? As one to deals with and serves the upcoming generation (and see myself as a bridge between two, or among three, generations) frankly, sometimes, I don't think I'd like the answer.

And, so, today, I'm not sure I have a lot of answers.

But I'm hoping you'll chime in with your questions or thoughts...
Proud Uncle Alert

Nephew1 has started baseball season...when I get pictures like this, it's the kind of thing that makes me miss family. I guess these are thing things in their lives I want to be there to see and share with them...

Check out the great form on the batting stance!


Playing 2nd base...my favorite of the positions I played:


Taking one for the team...um...ouch. Hopefully, he didn't rub it and then stared down the pitcher on the way to first.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 3: Chapter 1

Reminder:

I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.

Our church has high ceilings.
Our church has a large foyer and very wide hallways...of which people will visit and chat, sometimes even getting caught up for a good 10 minutes after the service has started.
Our church has lots of natural light and big, clear windows and glass doors.
Our church has nametags pre-printed so people can grab theirs when they come in.
Our church has an informality about it: Lots of folks in jeans and comfy clothes.
Our church has a blend of contemporary music and classic hymns (but most arrangements of those are modern).
Our church has basketball goals in the auditorium.
Our church has chairs, not pews.
Our church has a big cafe where people can get coffee, tea, and hot chocolate before and after the service.
Our church has a cry room where you can go if you don't want to put your child in the nursery but you still want to "be in" the service.
Our church has communion using crackers and grape juice out of big brass tins we pass around and we can serve communion to 400 people in about 10 minutes.

All of it was planned. There were committees. Who had meetings. Who brought plans to groups of people. Who made adjustments. More meetings. More plans back to groups of people. Who okayed the plans.

And all of it was based on what we valued 10 years ago.

And our students, many of whom have grown up in our church really don't know of a corporate worship environment any different than this.

And, well, almost everything on that list would've made my grandmother cringe.
And, well, almost everything on that list would've made my mom happy.
And, well, almost everything on that list would've been modified by me to some small degree.
And, well, almost everything on that list would've given our children a basis to begin questioning as they make their faith their own.

Why can't it be darker? Can't candles and incense set a more worshipful tone?
Why can't people get to church 10 minutes early and come in and be solemn to prepare their hearts for worship? Can't they visit after the service?
Why can't we take the time to learn people's names instead of using the nametags as a crutch?
Is it possible we've all gotten a little too informal?
Why can't we strip worship down instead of large, polished praise bands? Why can't we write our own songs?
Why don't we have a dedicated space for worship if it's the most important thing we do?
And, if worship is the most important thing we do, why would we want coffee, tea and hot chocolate in there?
Why don't we want our babies in the service if we're a big family? And, well, babies cry sometimes. Why give them a separate room?
Why can't we take communion out of a common cup and walking an aisle? Maybe have a sit-down dinner and a full-blown communion service instead of trying to get it done within a time frame?

Yes.

I hear you.

There is room for both.

Neither is "wrong." They're both personal preferences.

But what I got from chapter 1 was the idea that the current middle-age generation gets offended when their "values" are questioned and practices unembraced...when that's precisely what they did to the previous generation! Here's a conversation the author uses to illustrate this reality to one of his fictional churchgoers:
"They [programs and styles currently used in their church that the older generation put in place] were things our generation made happen in our best days. But now another generation wants to make things happen. And we have to figure out how to accept this and rejoice in their vision. In a sense they're doing what we did to our parents. You don't think for a moment that our mothers and fathers liked all the stuff we changed, do you?"

...We have to figure out how to release this church into the hands of others and do it with enthusiasm. And that means we've got some thinking to do."


What I find interesting is that the older generation pushes back pretty hard on things the younger generation wants, when the reality is that they wanted the same freedom to make changes when they were the younger generation!

We should've expected it.
We should've seen it coming.
We shouldn't resist it.

But we do.

To our peril, if we go too far.

So, the question today, patrons, is whether or not we really want to do the thinking...

...and the implementation...

...required of us to give the next generation their shot.

Anyone?

Friday, March 12, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?", Part 2: The Introduction

Reminder:
I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.

I remember my first impressions of visiting my current church in the summer of 1996.

The parking lot was so crowded that people were having to literally park in the grass that surrounded the church (but not too close to the children's playground).
The foyer was tiny and crowded, and the greeter table was actually sitting on cinder blocks not completely covered by the fabric they tried to drape over it.
The men's and women's restrooms were woefully inadequate.
The auditorium (I can't stand it when people call the room people meet in the "Sanctuary." It isn't.) had lining for AWANA squares and a basketball court, and there were basketball goals raised to the ceiling.
Sunday School classrooms were at the front of the auditorium and the classes had to focus on being quiet as well as being detained until services let out, even if the class "ended." Every other classroom was packed with either children or youth.
A kitchen that had a home-school co-op science class meet in it Friday would prepare the men's breakfast Saturday.
Children's ministry and nursery rooms were VERY crowded and the hallways WAY too small to handle the flow of parents/kids.
The praise band/sound/AV were ALL volunteers, and the "visual" part of that equation consisted of song lyrics on SLIDES projected on both angled walls. Not even kidding about the use of slides (a piece of visual communication that came after flannel graphs and before Power Point).

In short, the church wasn't known for the "presentation." We were known for the "meat." We later made changes (like asking almost everyone in our church to start coming ONLY to the Sunday evening services, or parking 3/4 of a mile away and shuttling folks to the church) that should've killed the growth. In fact, once I got the job our student ministry made a t-shirt that I'd asked them to design that "described us." On the front was an equation that read: "The Message > the medium." On the back was a quote about how "a collapsed view of heaven is the price you pay for your comfort." The reason I loved that shirt was it exemplified what we valued at that time.

Anyway, when it came to designing a new building, much of it was an attempt to maintain our values and correct some of those inconveniences: Parking was never going to be an issue and we have a great parking lot now. Very spacious foyer for visiting with friends and getting all caught up. Wide hallways to get to spacious classrooms appropriate for all ages (adult Christian Ed on the top floor, babies & toddlers on the main floor, children and youth downstairs). Nicer chairs in the auditorium and an extra basketball court, with nicer plexiglass goals and room for volleyball. A parent's box in case your child cries or they're not keen on leaving their babies with strangers). A kitchen that can cook for an army and, because of ample space & resources elsewhere, doesn't have to be shared with science students. Big screens with computer driven technology that shows videos and all that jazz with a paid staff person to oversee all that stuff.

Like I said, we tried to maintain values and correct inconveniences. I think we did that.

In his introduction, MacDonald talks about his entry into his church as the senior pastor and how things went initially:
"I think, first of all, I'd been a compromise candidate who was somehow reasonably acceptable to both the younger and older generations. To the older folks I was perceived as 'one of them.' To the younger I was a father figure who sounded reasonably in touch with today's youth.

Soon after I came to the church, the older people in the church discovered to their dismay that I would not be wearing a necktie while I preached and that I wasn't going to bring back organ music and hymnbook-based singing (which, by the way, had been dropped from Sunday mornings a year before I came). They couldn't believe that a man my age liked PowerPoint sermon presentations, small groups more than adult Sunday School classes, and children's play areas that looked more like a Chuck E. Cheese's than the institutionally gray, multiuse classroom."

What strikes me about this is that, from my perspective, even the stuff MacDonald mentions that might've "put off" the older folks in his church are, well, about 10 years behind the curve, IMHO.

See, what I love about going to the Youth Specialties Youth Ministry Conference every year (and put up with the same-old, same-old stuff they do at them) is because you get to see "what's next" in ministry. They have the cutting edge speakers and worship leaders and all that going on and just seeing that is inspirational and eye-opening. Also, you get 2,000 youth ministers, who, by definition, have a screw loose (and their wives, who have a different screw that's loose because they married us) and let them worship together...well, it's beautiful and twisted and awesome.

One time I came home from the conference after hearing the worship leader with a CD. From the first time I heard him on the main stage before the speaker, I knew he was exactly what my students wanted as far as music style and presentation. Nobody at our church had ever heard of Dave Crowder at that time. So, there were a couple of songs I loved and played for our student praise band. They quickly picked up on them and our students got into it. At the same time, I gave the CD to our worship leader and told him I thought it'd be cool to run those songs in our main services. He was REALLY worried about doing it, but after 8 months he finally agreed.

Well, by that time, our students had moved on to the Next Big Thing...which, I think was a short-lived attempt at "rave/techno" music. Meanwhile, the main services at our church seemed to be digging Dave Crowder a couple of times a month...our kids were mildly appreciative, but it was still "out" in their way of thinking.

My point is this: When I hear MacDonald or any other pastor talk about PowerPoint presentations or the use of movie clips to illustrate a sermon point, well, I kind of smile. That's why I contend that most worship services of churches today resemble youth group meetings from 10 years ago.

We're already on to something else...

...and, frankly, our high school and middle school parents should be talking to their children about what's going on currently in our student ministry. It's definitely effective at helping our students experience God while being grounded in Truth. It's a change even for those of us used to warp-speed, turn-on-a-dime changes.

I dig it, though.
Big time.

So...

...the main point of this entry inspired by the introduction (and I'll have the chance to expound in more detail on chapter 1's entry)?

Change is inevitable.
Even when going from a cramped building to a shiny new one with the same values but more polish to what you're doing.
And grownups in Big Church are still behind the curve.
Way behind...which is okay, I guess.
But, if change in churches is inevitable...
...shouldn't we be more open and excited about it?

And, if we're not open and excited about it, what does that say about how we truly view the main worship service? Something like, "We like it this way, and if you're younger you might want to learn to do it our way, and we gave you a room where you can do it your way downstairs with all the bells and whistles so you can do it your way downstairs?"

Or, I guess we'll wait until 2020 to see what the kids are doing downstairs today...

Thursday, March 11, 2010

My Twisted Sense of Recall

So, Limp Bizkit's song "Nookie" came on my satellite radio station this morning (which is rapidly becoming one of my BFF's) and I busted out laughing in my otherwise calm & quiet morning house. Now, if you know the band and the song, well, um, let's just say at the very least that the song is less than flattering when it comes to a message about relationships between men and women.

Anyway, the reason I had my own LOL moment was because when I saw this video when my girls were younger I couldn't believe the folks at the Children's Television Workshop (which is brought to you daily by a letter and a number) did a spoof on it (rivaled only by a Billy Idol look-alike-muppet singing about a "Rebel L"). It was only after a month or so I realized someone else put it together:



But that possibility that they did make it is the very reason I wish I was in their creative brainstorming meetings.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

The Senior Year

In the spring of 1983, I got a letter from Auburn University. Turns out that my ACT scores and the requirements of the state-school football factory matched up. Seeing as how it was assumed that I'd wear my father's class ring (kept in the top drawer of my mom's rolltop desk) once I "checked the box" on my schedule to graduate from there, there was little effort in my college choice. It's where I always wanted to go.

That summer I worked at Cobb's Hoover Square 6 Theaters. I threaded projectors. I closed up. I counted money. I took tickets. I hung out with the guys that ran the gameroom after the midnight movies.

My senior year required that I finish the requirement for English, math, and history. There were lots of free periods...a couple of study halls and an office aid. The athletic period finished off the day. I spent several of those free periods at something called the Senior Patio hanging out and playing hacky-sack. There were the standard senior memories like pep rallies, homecoming dances (and my date was pretty and fun), road trips with friends, parties, prom (same date, even more pretty and more fun by this time), baseball season, and finished off with a trip to the beach for a week after the graduation hoopla--in a less litigious society the Carousel Hotel in Fort Walton Beach, Florida was more than happy to be filled with about 250 folks from my graduating class unchaperoned. Beautiful chaos on our side of the fence. Cash-cow nuisance on their side, I'd imagine.

Anyway, because my future was pretty much nailed down for that year. I was killing time. It was fun killing that time, and I don't remember much stress afoot. So, I never thought about it much other than the reality that it was what it was.

Until I read Class Dismissed: Why not eliminate the self-indulgent debauched waste that is the senior year of high school? by Walter Kirn in the New York Times Sunday Magazine on Feb. 28.

Apparently, in a cost-cutting measure, a state senator in Utah proposed making the senior year optional for those that have their futures nailed down. He dropped the bill once the obvious crowing from teacher's unions and students and parents happened. So it goes when you think outside the box.

Here's a quote to get your brains engaged:

"For many American high school seniors, especially the soberest and most studious, senior year is a holding pattern, a redundancy, a way of running out the clock on a game that has already been won...Twelfth grade, for the students I've just described, amounts to a fidgety waiting period that practically begs for descents into debauchery and concludes in a big dumb party under a mirror ball that spins in place like the minds beneath it...If senior year were to vanish from our high schools...if the education process was shortened and compressed some, (it) might help kids think more clearly about their paths in life and set out on them on the right foot instead of waiting to shape up later on. And what would they miss, really, under such a system?...Nothing much. Just the loss of a year when nothing much happens, anyhow."


Now, I'm saying I agree here...

...but what do you think, patrons.
I'm Billy Corgan, Smashing Pumpkins. And I'm Homer Simpson, smiling politely.

"I don't see me reaching the highest levels of my creativity if I'm unhealthy and I have unhealthy people around me."--Billy Corgan on why he's intent on cleaning up his behavior.
Another Reason to like The Flying Tomato

"I'd rather do it than watch it."--American snowboarding Gold Medalist Shaun White, on why he has zero interest in snowboarding video games or DVDs.
My John, Paul, George & Ringo...

As I've said before, I missed the Beatles. They'd come and gone by the time I hit music consciousness.

But what I wouldn't give to have been in Manhattan in 1976 to see "my Beatles," Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy doing their thing at Max's Kansas City (or at CBGB's)...

...thankfully, some video is starting to turn up from those days.

Thanks to Rolling Stone for their exclusive look at an early show at Max's.

Wow.

Monday, March 08, 2010

Strolling Through Gordon MacDonald's "Who Stole My Church?": The Preface

I've known Hollywood for nearly a quarter-century. We were roommates in college for a couple of years and kept in touch, mostly via Christmas cards or a yearly phone call. Then came e-mail and blogging and social networking and now there's rarely a week we don't communicate.

Anyway, he's a deacon at his church and their board decided to walk through the book together. I needed something to read on a rainy Sunday (and Monday) so I thought it'd be fun to work through it with him. I'm glad I decided to do this, too. The book has my brain engaged big-time.

In the preface, the author discusses how his brain got going when one of his congregants said he felt that his church had changed ("overnight") for the worse, trying to implement methods of prominent, well-known (and large) churches. MacDonald decided to write the book as a work of fiction (after several failed starts and stops, realizing that there are already tons of books out there on church-change). He and his wife are the only two "real" people, and he creates an ad hoc committee of sorts, about 15 or so long-time New Englanders at a church of about 200. The characters are speaking for a broad range of what I'm guessing are actual comments he's heard over the years regarding change and churches.

The significant quote from the preface is this: "There is one primary issue that I am concerned with in this book: how do people face change when it threatens their comfort zone."

The note I wrote down was that I feel like all too often people throw the quote around that says something like, "People don't like change."

I fundamentally disagree with that.

What people don't like is actually UNEXPLAINED change. Let me give you an example: Imagine you're in a Texas summer and you don't have air-conditioning. The someone offers you a window unit that will cool your living room. You mention that, in addition to the cost of the unit, there might be a one-time cost to install a special plug, and that there will be an increase in their monthly power bill. However, you will no longer have to be bothered with sweating while you sleep, or keeping wet rags handy, or any of the other inconveniences that come with trying to stay cool when it's 105 outside.

You weigh the costs and the benefits...and you decide to purchase the window unit. After a couple of days of those benefits, you actually LIKE and APPRECIATE the change, even if there's a few more dollars out of your pocket. See what I mean? It's change, but you explained the change well and they do LIKE the changes.

You could do this with anything, I guess. Like your family moving the furniture in the living room. Or having your school board shift your kid's school zone. Or the head coach of the little league team gets transferred. The grocery store no longer carrying your favorite brand of coffee. I could go on.

And, yes, you might get annoyed or frustrated no matter how well it's explained...especially when the unintended consequences occur (and they always do). But I contend that, as long as you are carefully explained the reasons why the change is made and the "big picture" is at hand, well, you'll ultimately be okay with change as you put up with any personal inconveniences that occur in the interim. So, yes, I'll concede that there is an "adjustment period."

So, initially, the question of how people face change when it takes them out of their comfort zone is that it is incumbent on leadership to lead effectively through the change. Whatever that change may be. Clear, consistent communication makes the changes palatable.

This is just the preface.

I think this'll be fun! What are your thoughts, patrons?
The People I Work With

courtesy Scott Stantis, Chicago Tribune

Kind of a foreshadowing of a few things I'm going to be blogging about soon...I'm reading a book called "Who Stole My Church?" Lots of stuff about what most Diner patrons know is a hot-button of mine: How the generations "mix" in the church.

Fasten your seatbelts. Things might get stirred up bit here in the next few days.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Eggs

There's a test that students in Texas take at various points in the educational process. Supposedly, it measures whether or not the students have mastered tasks the government deems appropriate in various disciplines at various ages. You have to pass it or you can't graduate.

Here in the 'burbs, students rarely worry about passing. They worry about getting 98% right so their school can get some award from the government.

These awards, in turn, make sure that local property values remain intact or increase, which, in turn, creates more tax revenue.

In fact, when my kids were younger, we'd get reminders sent home to make sure they'd get a good night's sleep for this important test. This reminder included making sure the kids had a good breakfast, too. I remember the note recommending eggs as a good source of whatever it is that makes the brain work better before taking government-mandated assessments that keep property values going and tax-coffers full.

I thought this was hilarious.

So, I made a production out of making eggs at my house. Can't have my property values dropping because I didn't make the eggs.

Well, I've been busy at work and all, and the TAKS test more or less slipped my mind. They don't send school reminders out in high school. If they did, it didn't make it into my hands.

But last night, Kid2 asked me if I was making the eggs for breakfast today. I said "no," but I fully intend to. It a dad thing to joke like that. Hey, it's what we do. But I'm making the eggs, man.

Not because it's a brain-stimulant.
Not to mock the silly note that came home.
Not to keep property values solid.

But because it's a reminder of my daughter's childhood.
A nod to her nice memories in my home.

And we all need that from time to time, don't you think?

Well, off to scramble...

Happy State Mandated Skills Assessment Day, Everybody!
More Thought Provocation

Donald Miller is at it again on his blog with a post about whether or not we value man's opinion or God's.

Have at it, patrons!

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Some Days Are Like That

Me?

Oh, just sitting around amazed at the reality that people will treat those that are outside the Tribe with amazing amounts of patience and grace...

...but then treat family with...

...well...

...a tremendous lack of patience and grace.

You?