Rick Meigs had a great post a little while back about the false dichotomy we often create between church and parachurch organizations. I have been putting some thoughts about this together for awhile now, but with our responsibilities at our church now moving into college ministry this is becoming a very present reality for us (there are a number of universities in close proximity to our church).

It is a well-worn phrase spoken by many pastors: the church is not a building, it is the people. That is, until their local congregation is challenged by a campus ministry, mission group or some other parachurch organization. Unfortunately, the perception of many pastors is that these organizations are competing with them for finite resources — whether human or financial — and that these groups exist for the benefit of their church.  At best, such a relationship would be characterized by tolerance; at worst, suspicion and/or hostility.  Even the language itself suggests that the local church congregation is the legitimate expression of the body of Christ, while the parachurch is “close” or “near to” it.

When my wife and I sat down with our senior pastor to discuss the future of a college ministry at our church, his underlying attitude was basically that we needed to plug students into a “real” church. Certainly, there are significant benefits for college students to be plugged into a local congregation. There, they can find a diverse, multi-generational community. They can benefit from the wisdom of their elders. They might find a family who will open their home during that Thanksgiving break where they are stuck on campus.

Unfortunately,  many college students find their local church experience lacking.  Maybe the energy or vitality is missing.  Others find that there is no real place for them; they end up in a strange kind of ministry limbo — ready to move out of the kids’ table, but not finding a place at the adults’ table.  Sometimes, they wait so long for “their turn” to lead and serve that their time eventually passes.

I believe in the institutional church.  After all, I am a pastor at one.  I love the idea of being connected across geography and time through our denominational affiliation.  I believe in the accountability structures the institutional church provides.  But I see a pressing need for church ministers to develop  more robust ecclesiology. Viewing parachurch ministries as competition, or as something less than “real” church, only weakens the wider body of Christ.  The picture out there is way too big for any single ministry to fill in all the blanks.

The church has so much to learn from parachurch organizations. I have encountered many people who, after graduating from college, really struggle to find a church community to call home.  In part, this is due to a lack of close-knit community.  I don’t mean that these churches don’t have small group ministries and the like; rather, people actually living in close enough proximity to one another that they could walk over for a visit.  These environments, as Joseph Myers might suggest, create the possibility for genuine, organic relationships to arise naturally.

So many Korean American churches are basically commuter churches.  While many first-generation believers were willing to make a thirty or forty minute drive in order to find the community that they could not find anywhere else, many second-gen believers find that getting together once or twice a week is not enough to build deep, meaningful friendships.  They might have time to get an executive summary of how their friend is doing over donuts during the fellowship hour on Sunday, or time enough to get through the discussion questions during their mid-week small group gathering, but not enough time to cultivate genuine friendships.

In addition to the importance of close-knit community, parachurch ministries can model a sense of adventure or calling to local churches.  All too often, despite what the Sunday bulletin says, the vision of the church is to keep the ship afloat.  How amazing would it be to find a local congregation as passionate about reaching out to the lost, lonely and hurt as many campus ministries are?  What if churches could create a sense of wonder in our gatherings, that life is open-ended and filled with possibilities?  The local church can leverage its assets (e.g., its roots in the community, multi-generational setting, etc.) to set this passion and wonder in the context of the rhythm of everyday life — work, family, etc.

We need each other.  God’s purposes are much too large for any one church, parachurch, ministry or model to fulfill.  As Rick Meigs writes:

…some expressions of the church have a narrow ministry focus (sodality) and others have a broad ministry focus (modality). Each needs the other and each is a part of the whole. We should honor and respect what God is doing through his people regardless of the label we put on it

< < This is pretty much how I have spent quite a bit of my time here at church over the last several days. Not listening to Sigur Ros (although that might keep me calm and centered during some of the hectic times around here) but painting…

We recently had a staff member leave the church. While his departure was kind of sticky (isn’t it always?), this presents our church with an opportunity to redirect some of what we have been doing and to reconsider what we are all about.

Part of our new direction is rediscovering the importance of ministry to children. Our church has so many wonderful, devoted people — but there has not really been anyone to champion children’s ministry. As a result, the kids’ ministry has mostly been maintenance and baby-sitting. Thankfully, our senior pastor has been very supportive as we have begun planting the idea of how vital it is for our kids to discover God’s love and to learn to live for Him. I’m reminded of one of those kind-of-corny ministry anecdotes where an old-time revival preacher was asked how his latest tent meeting went. He replied that three and a half people were saved. The original questioner then said, “That’s wonderful — three adults and one child!” to which the preacher responded, “No, it was three children and one adult” (and, rimshot!).

This past Sunday, we moved our Pre/K group out of the tiny room into which over twenty of them had been crammed (“Jump, jump, jump into the light, light, light… but don’t crush, crush, crush your neighbor!”) and over into a much larger room. Now they have room for interactive learning centers, dynamic action praise songs and room to hop around — all with a much lower percentage chance of causing bodily harm to a friend! But the room, though it was called a “multi-purpose” room, was really just kind of a big, empty, boring space. So, as part of creating a kid-friendly environment, we have been painting and redesigning the space.

I don’t mind painting or cleaning in the church most of the time.  In fact, I find repetitive tasks, like washing dishes or vacuuming, to be kind of therapeutic — up to a certain point, at least.  But I find myself pushing back a little bit when people expect pastors to perform menial tasks — as if this was some proof of humility.  A friend once half-jokingly observed that the qualifications for becoming a youth pastor in Korean American churches seemed to be the ability to drive a passenger van, play between three and seven chords on the guitar, and carry heavy things.

It must be because I still look pretty young (it was only a couple years ago that I was mistaken for a high school football player!), but I sometimes catch a “you still need to pay your dues” vibe from people — despite driving vans and carrying heavy things for the past twelve years or so in youth ministry.

But, if painting a room can make kids feel like they have a place in our church and say, in some small way, that we believe in children’s ministry then I am happy to paint the days away.

One of the more interesting regular features in New York magazine is their Approval Matrix. It is, in their words, “our deliberately oversimplified guide to who falls where on our taste hierarchies.”

I’m not sure if I have any taste hierarchies, but I thought I would share what’s been appearing on my cultural radar and drawing cheers or jeers. From time to time, I will weigh in with a graphical representation of some highly-subjective rants and raves. So today, in the midst of a nice long weekend, here is my own ultra-simplified approval matrix.

approval-matrix-1c.jpg

Thought-Provoking / Hooray! Here is a short video from Brian McLaren talking about the state of modern worship. B-Mac brings the heat, identifying how our worship industry has developed a “clientele of sophisticated consumers of worship products and prefabricated worship experiences.” Here is his open letter to worship songwriters.

[h/t: David Gate]

Thought-Provoking / Boo! This is a great video of a “breakup” between an advertiser and a consumer. Hooray for the fun & wit in this video. Boo! on one-way, top-down, talking-at-you-is-the-only-way-I-can-communicate-with-you relationships.

[h/t: Notcot]

Brain-Dead / Hooray! This game shouldn’t be so much fun, but somehow typing the alphabet as fast as you can (over and over again) at Finger Frenzy is strangely addictive.

[h/t: Marko]

Brain-Dead / Boo! Have they suffered a downward spike in their ratings? Do they covet the mystical male 18-34 year old demographic that badly? I don’t know if it’s possible for an entire network to jump the shark, but ESPN might have come close. They now include MMA as part of their regular “sports” coverage. Just in case you are not man enough, “MMA” stands for “Mixed Martial Arts.” You know — it’s what Kip was training for. I must not be a good enough Christian to appreciate all this street fighting, but these guys have nothing on Van Damme in Bloodsport. I think they should add throwing sand in your opponent’s eyes if they want to be taken seriously as a sport. Until then, ESPN earns a matrix-breaking brain-dead boo! from me. Ugh.

As someone who has been a part of leading congregations in worship through music for over ten years, I cringe when I see people angrily denouncing modern praise songs because of their lack of lyrical depth.  People have argued back and forth about these kind of love songs to God — some have denounced these as “Jesus is my boyfriend” songs.

In my ministry to Asian American youth and young adults, I have seen a great need for the recovery of godly intimacy in many of their lives.  It is extraordinarily difficult for people who are afraid of their dads or never speak to them to sing highest praises to their heavenly Father.  While it might not be right to project our brokenness onto God, it still happens.  And even in cases where there might not be dad-issues, the honor/shame culture in which so many of us have been raised tends to make us closed off, unable to connect deeply with God or with others.  It is virtually impossible to forge a deep, abiding love for God or for others if we are disconnected from God.  Music can play a vital role in establishing an intimate, life-changing, life-giving relationship with God.

Certainly, we must always exercise wisdom and discernment.  We do not want to devolve into a “me-first” consumer mindset.  Worship is rightly directed to God, first and foremost.

I bring all of this up because, in my never-ending search for worship songs that would be appropriate to sing in our church’s context, I recently picked up the new Hillsong United album, All of the Above.

A quick tangent:  The title, “All of the Above,” seems to refer to an image on the cover and inside the liner notes of the album.  There are five young people wearing plain white t-shirts, each one with a large handwritten phrase.  These include: love, truth, hope, justice, and others.  It seems that the phrase “all of the above” is intended to show that our calling is not to pick and choose or have an either/or mentality, but that following Christ includes all of these things — a “both/and” kind of faith, if you will.

Although I know that United songs are hugely popular in youth circles, I have never been that much of a fan.  Not necessarily a critic, but just not a huge follower.  Their musical evolution has been pretty interesting to follow — the Brit-rockish chord progression of “Everyday” to the Blink 182-esque feel of “The Reason I Live” to the modern rock strains of “Salvation is Here” to the emo/punk riffs of “Take It All.”  One thing that has always thrown me for a loop is how their uptempo songs have developed a kind of punk rawkish flair, but their more contemplative songs still remain in 80’s Monster Ballad territory.  I’m not judging them, mind you — I will sing along to “Heaven” by Warrant and “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” by Poison any day.  It just seems kind of odd, that’s all.

I noticed one kind of troubling thing while listening to this album’s lyrics, though. It’s not so much about the simplicity of the lyrics — which, I might add, is not always a bad thing.  Another tangent:  I used to really dislike singing “Trading My Sorrows” by Darrell Evans.  Not only because I would inevitably picture a person going to the checkout counter with a package of sorrow or shame and trading for “the joy of the Lord,” but because I could not understand why the chorus consisted simply of “Yes, Lord” repeated nine times. Then a friend put it into perspective for me.  We say, “No” to God all the time.  Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves to choose God’s ways — emphatically, nine times over, even.

Anyhoo, what raised my eyebrow was the opening line to the second track, Break Free, which says, “Would you believe me, would you listen if I told you that there is a love that makes a way and never holds you back?”  This is extremely similar to the opening line to another United song called (interestingly enough), Free, which asks, “Would you believe me if I said, that we are the ones who can make the change in the world today?”  This reminds me of how a number of different United songs use the line, “I wanna be with You,” or a close variation of that phrase.

And, on the track Lead Me to the Cross, they seem to reference two songs not written by United.  Leading into the chorus, the lyrics state, “Everything I once held dear I count it all as loss” which sort of compresses the opening verse to Knowing You by Graham Kendrick, “All I once held dear, built my life upon / All this world reveres, and wars to own / All I once thought gain, I have counted loss…”

The chorus of this song says, “Lead me to the cross where Your love poured out / Bring me to my knees, Lord I lay me down” which is oddly reminiscent of the chorus to an old Delirious? track, Oh Lead Me, “Lead me to the cross where we first met / Draw me to my knees, so we can talk.”

I am not accusing them of plagiarism.  I understand that referencing prior material can be a very powerful thing; it can recontextualize a powerful experience from the past into our present-day life experience.  I think Passion’s work to reclaim some of our old hymns works along these lines. It just reminds me of how difficult and what a high calling it is to write songs of worship that are engaging, thoughtful, singable, melodic, astute, deep and memorable.

Do you have any friends from your past who are now famous?

My wife, being a graduate of NYU, has known people who have been on Broadway and on television, but no breakout stars.  Her younger brother was good friends with Tony An from H.O.T. (“Hi-Five of Teenager” — such an awesome name) back in junior high.  In fact, my wife once showed a picture of her brother and Tony together (with a couple of other friends) to a youth group student who immediately began crying.

Once, when I was in college, I saw a pre-teen Bam Margera come ripping through one of our skateboarding sessions.  I have an old 411 VHS tape to prove it.  If you watch Bam’s sequence closely (which he nailed in one take — quite a prodigy, he was!) you can see my feet as I’m seated on a low wall nearby.

Well, in any case, in an issue of Spin from awhile ago I stumbled across some folks I knew from back in high school.  I knew that they had been involved in bands from back then, but I had no idea what they were up to until I saw their names listed as Spin’s Artist of the Month — eventually they went on to become Spin’s underground band of the year for 2006.  Their band is named “The Silent Years” and they are well worth checking out.  In fact, you can find four amazing tracks for free over at Daytrotter.  Their eclectic indie rock sound will appeal to people with a wide variety of taste — not because they’re trying to appeal to everyone in a gross “muzak for all peoples” lowest common denominator kind of way, but because their voice is fresh and they do what they do extremely well.

Has it really been twenty years since the sprawling noise epic You’re Living All Over Me was released?  And yet, here we are, with Dinosaur Jr. recently reunited (with plenty of corny “Dinosaur Sr.” jokes, I’m sure) and with a brand new album, Beyond.  I’ll probably write a more detailed review later, but I was pleasantly surprised by this album.  It’s much more than a one-off, Bands Reunited nostalgia trip.  J Mascis still peddle-hops his way through solos that, while not necessarily melting off the faces of listeners, threaten to careen off the edge of a cliff before eventually wandering back home.  The dance party our family had to this album’s opening tracks testifies to the potency of Lou and Murph’s urgent rhythm section.  My daughter likes “Almost Ready” in particular.