Archives for category: church

Ways Of Understanding Church

February 7, 2008 //

Jason Evans recently posted a thought-provoking article over at the Ecclesia Collective, Church as a co-op. I love the idea of searching out new analogies that help us delve deeper into what it means to be the called out people of God in community. After all, even the familiar concepts of the Church as the body of Christ and the family of God are also analogies.

“Organic” has become an increasingly popular analogy for the church (The Organic God, Organic Community and Organic Church to name a few recent books), I believe, out of this desire to reclaim the idea that the Church is not a static, artificial monument but rather a dynamic, real movement.

Of course, any language we choose to use runs the risk of being misunderstood, overused or rendered virtually meaningless because of conflicting ideas and preconceived notions. The emerging/emergent church movement and corresponding controversy come to mind. For more information about the emerging church, DJ Chuang has posted a great article to help you navigate the many kinds of emerging church. Here is another post that might help you understand the relationship between Emergent and the emerging church (including insightful comments from Scot McKnight and Jamie Arpin-Ricci).

I’m looking forward to hearing more of Jason’s thoughts. As a huge believer in the priesthood of all believers (God has called all of us into ministry, whether that’s our professional vocation or not) I whole-heartedly agree with the idea, “To be the Church is to choose unity with those that also choose the way of the Kingdom through Jesus.”

Categories church, communication, community, controversy, emerging church, ministry, missional

No, But I Play One On TV

January 25, 2008 //

This morning I went to drop off our daughter at her preschool. As I was searching the courtyard for the coffee, an elderly woman approached me. She asked something, but I was so intent on my coffee hunt that I did not hear her the first time. Then she asked again, a little bit louder: “Excuse me. Are you a custodian?”

I mean, I know I end up doing a lot of mopping, moving and other miscellaneous custodial work around the church, but is it that obvious, even to the casual observer? Quickly, she realized that I wasn’t and she smiled again and said, “Oh, you’re a parent!”

Maybe it was the gloves I’ve been wearing lately. Because our church is extremely cold during the week (well, cold if you’re a completely Southern California acclimatized person like me — did I really grow up in Michigan?), and because my hands are cold most of the time anyways, I went out to the local drugstore and picked up a pair of two dollar magic gloves. The magic quickly wore off, however, when I realized that I couldn’t type with those gloves on. So I did what any reasonable person would do and I cut off the fingertips. While these aren’t Grizzly Paw weightlifting gloves, Patrick Swayze Roadhouse-style motorcycle gloves, or awesome 80s flashbacks, my low budget fix keeps me warm as I type away (and mop the hallways and move tables, etc.).

Actually, my goal is to be like John Bender, Judd Nelson’s erstwhile criminal of The Breakfast Club. Such a range of emotion — subtle rebellion sowing, righteous defiance, earring-switching sensitivity, Friday casual, straight up kicking it, victorious anti-hero. — and all of this based on the gloves. Not even Principal Vernon, with his confusing I love rock-n-roll but the next time I have to come in here I’m cracking skulls hand gestures could stop this force of nature.

Yes, that is what I’ll keep telling myself. It was the gloves.

Categories church, family, just grinning

From Monuments To Movements

January 24, 2008 //

Ten years ago, I was looking for some Bible study material at a Christian bookstore on the East Coast when I came across a cassette tape (!) for “Passion ’98: Live Worship from the 268 Generation.” Although I had no idea what a 268 Generation was, I liked the design on the cover so I picked it up that day. Like many others, my first connection with the Passion movement was through their music.

My wife and I, along with two friends, road tripped it over 20 hours from New Jersey out to Tennessee for the first OneDay event in 2000 (if you watch closely, you can spot us on the DVD). Since then, we have been to several Passion events — Thirsty, campus tours, various concerts & conferences, etc. We are bringing a group of college students from our church out to Los Angeles on Friday and Saturday for the Passion ’08 west coast regional event.

I really admire Louie Giglio, the founder and catalyst behind Passion. For being an extremely influential person, Louie is down-to-earth and very approachable. Once, when my wife and I were down in Atlanta as part of the ramp-up to OneDay ’03, Louie asked if we needed a ride back from dinner and we had a nice, albeit brief, conversation together in his car. Almost two years later, towards the end of ’04, we were in Manhattan for the last of the Passion events being held around the city and we saw Louie briefly before the event began. He actually remembered us, and greeted us warmly. I don’t mean to imply that I am “friends” with Louie at all; rather, I think these little stories show the heart and humility behind the Passion movement.

Louie often shares that there is no new theme for the Passion events — it’s always the same: the glory of God. While I love the music of Passion, it is the message that resonates deeply with me: that there is no higher calling, no bigger story, no more worthy cause than to live completely for God’s glory.

I don’t believe that events should be the primary catalyst for growing as followers of Christ. More and more, I am convinced that it is the living out of what we believe in the everyday and in between that causes our love for God and others to deepen. That being said, part of what draws me to Passion is that they’re not just about the events (which, by the way, are always creative and inspiring). In Louie’s own words:

Jesus is a movement. He’s not into monuments, systems or external structures. He is a river of life. “And everywhere the river flows, everything lives.” Movements are fluid. Movements move. Movements are not always predictable.

Join with us in praying that God would raise up a collegiate generation — a movement — who lives for something more than wealth, power or fame, whose life and breath would be spent to proclaim the beauty, wonder and glory of our God everyday.

Categories church, college, community, design, faith, ministry, music, worship

The Doors Were Open

January 17, 2008 //

I shared my recent near-grifting last Sunday during our weekly teachers’ meeting. We marveled together at our capacity as human beings to lie so brazenly at times and how we could discern those who are truly in need. It is altogether too easy, in the name of being wise about sharing our resources, to close the door completely to anyone who asks for help.

The sanctuary in which we gather to worship together every Sunday afternoon opens almost directly onto a major street in town. When the doors are open, I can see the sidewalk and street from the pulpit. This past Sunday, while we were reciting Scripture together during our worship gathering, I could see a tall stranger, obviously in need, appear in the doorway. The first to speak with him was one of our Sunday school teachers. Because of that morning’s conversation about grifting, she told us that she was very cautious, and a little bit skeptical, in listening to this man’s story. A couple of minutes into the conversation, I saw this teacher leave in order to speak with my wife, who is also one of the pastors here at church. My wife greeted this man and spent several minutes in conversation with him as well.

Although he was looking for help, he did not ask for money. Rather, he asked my wife if the church could help him find some diapers for his two young children (seated in a car, visible, about ten yards away). My wife found one of our youth group students and the three of them walked across the street to buy diapers for his kids. While they were there, my wife purchased a large box of diapers and some juice for his kids. When this man asked how he could repay her, my wife simply told him, that when he was back on his feet, to share what he had with someone else in need.

As my wife listened to this man’s story, she asked him how he ended up coming to our church to ask for help. He told her that he had been to several other places that morning, including other religious communities, and had been rejected at every stop. He said he drove by our church and saw that our doors were open and thought, maybe, someone could help.

One of the things I admire most about my wife is her pure heart to love, serve and help those in need. To me, this story is a snapshot of what grace looks like. Sure, there’s always the chance that this man was running some strange hustle (I don’t know, re-selling these diapers on ebay or something) but grace always runs the risk of being misunderstood, abused or exploited.

Chuck Swindoll quotes Maryn Lloyd-Jones in The Grace Awakening:

If it is true that where sin abounded grace has much more abounded, well then, “shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound yet further?” First of all let me make a comment, to me a very important and vital comment. The true preaching of the gospel of salvation by grace alone always leads to the possibility of this charge being brought against it… There is this kind of dangerous element about the true presentation of the doctrine of salvation.

While the Lloyd-Jones quote above is referring specifically to God’s salvific grace extended to us through Christ, there is a similar principle at work in how we see and treat those around us.

I am not advocating recklessness in how we share with others. Generally, we do not give money to people on the street who might ask, preferring instead to buy food if they are hungry or, in this instance, some diapers for a family in need. However, there is always something risky about extending grace, unconditional love. In a world in which outreach feels like a timeshare sales pitch (Sure, it’s free… but first you have to sit through our 90 minute presentation) and “free” carwash fundraisers actually cost a five dollar minimum donation, grace is strange and unfamiliar.

Grace is stumbling across an open door. The grace Jesus extended to others, even those He knew full well would reject, swindle or otherwise disrespect Him, is hard to comprehend (some might even say amazing). Part of our dream for our community is that, when faced with the choice, we will risk grace. If our life is our mission and each one of us is part of the priesthood of all believers, then grace must be at the heart of it all.

Categories asian american, church, communication, community, missional

High Plains Grifter

January 9, 2008 //

Because of our church’s location, we encounter a relatively steady stream of people — many of them homeless — who come in and ask for money. Even in the year or so we’ve been here, we have met quite a few characters with a wide range of stories that span the spectrum of believability.

Yesterday, however, I met a man with the most elaborate story yet. For about forty-five minutes, John laid out his story of the difficult divorce he was enduring — that his wife of almost thirty years had been seeing another man for about a year and was in the process of draining him of all his resources: financial, emotional, etc. He said he worked in the area and had passed by our church many times but was compelled to stop by today because he was at the end of his rope and needed someone, anyone, to talk to.

My heart really went out to John. After all, who hasn’t felt let down by life before, harassed and helpless before a constant barrage of circumstances beyond our control? And, from the way he described his circumstances, things were going to get much worse before they might become any better. He said he was alone — no parents, no siblings, no kids. I listened, asked questions, tried to reassure him that God never abandons us, even if it appears that all hope is lost.

However, by the last third of our conversation it became readily apparent that he was asking for money. If we could just float him a loan for $150 he would pay us back by Friday, payday. This would cover his hotel costs for the week, you see, and he was totally good for it.

I don’t mean to come across cynically in sharing this story. In fact, my wife and I were ready to strain our meager financial resources in order to help him out. We want to be wise, however, in how we choose to help. I made a couple of phone calls and it became quite clear almost immediately that John’s story did not check out. He left for a “meeting” and, when he returned, I told him the church would not be able to help him out financially. He left quickly, but not before asking half-heartedly, “You don’t have any money, do you?”

At the risk of sounding naive or idealistic, I am still pretty shocked when a person can lie so brazenly — clearly, John knew which buttons to push and which heartstrings to pull. I suppose, since he was asking for more than just a couple of dollars to eat a meal, he needed an appropriately large story to match. I can understand a person’s struggle and desperation to make it. To quote Kanye West, “So I did, what I had to did, because I had a kid…”

I want to be part of the solution. I believe in contributing to organizations that have experience and expertise in dealing with the root causes of poverty and injustice. I wonder with the same ambivalence if that panhandler asking for a dollar will spend it on alcohol or drugs. Like others, I think I prefer to give a sandwich or buy a meal for someone who says that they are hungry. Had John’s story checked out, my wife and I were prepared to drive down to his hotel and cover his bill until Friday.

But, at the same time, I want to do more than cut a check from a distance and call it a day. As Shane Claiborne writes in The Irresistible Revolution:

Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love: “you fed me.. you visited me in prison… you welcomed me into your home… you clothed me….” The church becomes a distribution center, a place where the poor come to get stuff and the rich come to dump stuff. Both go away satisfied (the rich feel good, the poor get clothed and fed), but no one leaves transformed.

Learning to sort through and filter out the hustling, lying and scamming is part of the territory. Choosing to enter into the mess of someone else’s life always means getting your hands dirty. I don’t want the audacity of some grifter to harden my heart to others who are in need. Even John, who thought he’d come and pull a fast one on some dumb pastor, is someone deeply in need.

Categories church, community, faith, ministry, sigh