Made for more . . .

Turns out, I have an infinite capacity to be a dink! No, no - it's true. Really it is. 

Seriously, have you ever watched yourself do life - only to be really disappointed with how much of a dink you can really be? I mean, you know you should be better. You know you can be better. You even observe yourself in the moment knowing full well that the next words or actions that are going to come from you are, in fact, ridiculous and stupid. And yet, you persist. You speak. You act. And then, you regret it (and feel compelled to blog about it)

Yep, that was my day, - or at least part of it. I was in a conversation today with an old friend and colleague today over lunch. Sadly, I was argumentative, judgmental and more than a bit off-putting - and all of that was before we had even ordered our meal!

Why? I mean, I know that there have been some really great things that I have learned from God in the past few years. I have learned that it's way better to encourage others than recklessly criticize. I have learned that it is really better to applaud efforts that others are making - as opposed to make being critical of them simply out of sport. And yet, in both cases I dropped the ball, lapsing into a discouraging diatribe of oppositional thinking and conversation - all the while being sure to thinly veil it in ways that make me appear smarter than I really am, thereby affording me at least the appearance of being smart. And, all the while I was simply being a dink.

Part of the reason for writing about this is because I think that this might happen to more than just me. If not - that's fine too. I simply think that I needed to acknowledge it - and deal with how disappointing we can be to our own selves. Sometimes I am frustrated at how easily I slip into patterns of conversation and thought that I really had convinced myself were a part of my past - that God had actually healed me of some of these things. And then, I go and prove that I am still not as far down the road of sanctification and good leadership that I thought I was. 

More than the disappointment, however, I think I also realized something else. In these moments - and hundreds of others that happen to all of us every day - we have the chance to treat others in (at least) one of two ways: a) as the person they have been in our lives in the past; or, b) as the person God imagines/ longs for and is making them to be. 

I find it soooooo easy to treat people as they have been in my life. When I do this I intuitively chart out the sum total of my interactions with them in the past, assigning a series of check and minuses based on what they have said, done, etc., in relationship to myself. The end result is that all of this history serves a a predeterminer of the script  and dialogue that I will have with them in the future. Sometimes the script has been great in the past - and lunch goes well. Other times, not so much.

Last week someone challenged me to think/ act differently with people. What I mean is this: I was challenged to treat everyone I meet/ talk to/ live with/ go to church with/ work with/ am neighbours with/ etc., etc., (you get the picture) as the person God would have them be as a new creation in Christ Jesus. This means that I refuse to treat them as the sum of my interactions with them - but honour them as people in the imagine of God. It means that rather than acting out of pride, hard heartedness, born out of my past interactions with them, that I would treat others with a humility that sees God's work in them and cooperates with it; with a encouraging spirit that tries to fuel the work of God in them; and with a Kingdom vision that understands that both of us are people for whom God has great plans. 

So, swing and a miss on a number of accounts today at lunch. 

However, there are dozens of people on my horizon in the rest of this week that will give me a chance to try again. My prayer this week? That God will show me how I can - in each conversation and interaction - cooperate with what God is trying to do in the lives of people with whom I interact.  

I know - it sounds simple. But, the truth is I am sick and tired of being a dink. . . . 

Pretty

I read a blog or two. Not many - but a few. And, often - like this blog - they are interesting meanderings and people that I know, trust, am curious about, etc. One blog that I take a look at pretty regularly is from my friend Phil.

In addition to being a grand friend - Phil is thoughtful, expresses himself with beauty and often provokes thought about topics that you and I might "feel" but aren't able to put into really clear words.

Well, Phil did it again the other day. Since both he and I are the fathers to young girls, I know that resonated with a post he made recently. I originally thought that I would try to re-capture it in my own words. But, truthfully, I can't do much better than he did. So, below is a link to Phil's blog. I heartily recommend it as a place worth reading. In particular, the link that I am giving is to the recent post he made about raising our children.

I also found the video link on this particular post to be pretty effective and worthwhile. However, like Phil, I would add that anyone with an aversion to the F-Bomb might want to avoid it. That said, I would add that given the reality that is being described, the vulgarity might actually be pretty fitting.

Here's the link to Phil's blog.

http://squinch.net/2011/03/07/a-pretty-dangerous-place/

Tweeting Truth?

Know who they guy in the picture is? His name is Rob Bell. He is a poet, artist, teacher and pastor who happens to work at a church called Mars Hill. It's in Michigan. If you listen to Rob via podcasts or video, or, for some reason end up @ Mars Hill on a Sunday he is preaching you will appreciate that he is a very gifted communicator with some provocative thoughts about God and life with Him. 

In a few weeks Rob will release a book entitled, "Love Wins." 

You can read the write up to the book here 

(http://www.amazon.ca/Love-Wins-About-Heaven-Person/dp/006204964X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1299535597&sr=8-1) 

You can watch the promo video for it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODUvw2McL8g&hd=1

Now, I am not making any claims about Rob Bell, what he thinks, believes or is asserting in this book. In part because I think that would be foolish, since the book isn't out yet. I will admit that he asks provocative questions and clearly the book and video are designed to get people thinking - and, the cynic in me says, to sell lots and lots of books!

Anyway, here's the reason for this post: a few weeks ago a bunch of other church leaders (Justin Taylor and John Piper) watched the video and read the release re: the book. Their claim? Rob Bell is a - wait for it - he's a ghastly universalist!!!!! That's right, their CLAIM is that Rob Bell thinks everyone goes to heaven! 

I say claim, because, neither have actually read the book. They are inferring it. And, in so doing, John Piper tweeted, "Farewell Rob Bell" as if to say that we ought to bid adieu those in our midst who espouse anything short of what we think represents orthodoxy.

Again, let me be clear: I don't know what Rob Bell beleives about this sort of thing. I have neither asked him, nor read the book. But, here's what I find really, really hard to understand: if I did believe that someone (of influence or not) was spousing something that I found hard to stomach, understand or swallow, why oh why would i bid them farewell? Why wouldn't I, especially in this case, want to go to their place, grab a coffee and say, "tell me about what you are thinking on this topic cuz we see it so differently and I might have something to learn!"

What is it about Christian leaders that makes them feel like we ought to always distance, shun or shame the people with whom we disagree? 

Why wouldn't we, in the pursuit of truth, always and by default want to talk to everyone with whom we disagree, listen intently to how they see things, engage in the dialogue of ideas and pursue truth?

I know - some of you are going to say that's a bit naive and I should put down my rose coloured glasses. Others are going to feel - but never say - that this is a very fearful place to live - because others with whom we disagree might influence our thoughts and if they do, our whole house of cards might come crashing down!

Again, call me idealistic, but I genuinely believe God to be a God of truth. That means that he is the Lord of ALL truth, no matter where it is found. So, could Rob Bell teach me something? I hope so. Could Piper and others - again, I hope so! However, if we Christians keep parceling up the world along the lines of who thinks the same as us @ every turn we will sacrifice any hope of being friendly and kind, let alone having even a distant shot at being things like salt and light. 

Listening Ears

In the biblical book of Proverbs the writer makes the following statement,


"To answer before listening— that is folly and shame." - Proverbs 18:13

Today I saw my own folly and shame. Why? Because I made assertions and statements before listening. Maybe you know what this feels like. You spout off about something or someone - only to discover that if you had listened just a bit longer to what was really going on, you would never have said what you said. Or, you think things in the quietness of your own heart, letting these thoughts or ideas run wild inside yourself until the come to rest in  a place of conviction - only to discover that if you had listened a bit longer  you would never have come to the conclusions that you did. 

I did that - and this morning I felt a bit of the folly and shame that comes with not listening. 

The person I was listening to had a lot of passion, perhaps even more conviction. This person knew what they wanted, had a deep sense of what they were made to do in this world. And, had I asked about this first, and then listened - well, I bet I wouldn't have felt the folly of speaking first and listening later. 

So, at the end of the day I am a person - with a lot of my own junk, opinions, biases and thoughts about things. However, today I learned a lesson in humility - listen first. I should have done that. Had I, I am pretty sure I could have avoided misperceptions and a measure of conflict.

in the wake of this valuable conversation I think I have at least two really great things that are  good news.

The first thing that is good news is that I think I made a friend and ally. 

The second piece of good news? Together we created tension. That's right, tension. There were moments in the conversation where it was quite palpable. However, better than a problem to be solved, this tension is the sort of thing that makes me grow, pushes me, stretches my thoughts and perspective - and in that way is a really good thing. 

Perhaps this is one of the greatest learnings of all from my morning coffee with my new friend. When I was driving to this conversation I had today it felt like there would be a problem to be solved. However, after listening, I think that had we "solved" it (ie made all the tension go away by either refusing to talk more or simply affirming one another's biases) we might have lost something important. Instead, we walked away as two people who share a lot of common convictions - but who hold these things in different ways and as a result there is a bit of tension. However, I don't want to solve it by getting rid of it. Instead, I am glad - even grateful for it. It's this very tension that is going to make me have to grow, learn and be challenged. 

This leads to, perhaps the best part of the morning for me: I think that because we both are trying to be followers of Jesus and invite others to discover the miracle of a life with Jesus Christ - we discovered that greater than our tension is the goodness of being part of what the Bible calls the "body of Christ." The fact is that we did and likely will disagree - but for a moment or two this morning I think that we realized that greater than our disagreements is the unity that we can have as fellow Christ followers. 

I got bit in the . . . . .

Sometimes being a pastor is a bite in the butt! (yep, I went there)

I am not saying the job is bad. I am not trying to elicit any sympathy. And, I am not trying to make it seem more special or difficult than any other job. But, I am going to say that the practicing what you preach truism can really be a hard pill to swallow, especially for those who actually do preach for a living.

Case in point: I spoke last sunday about truth. Not truth in a philosophical sense where I would have to wade into issues of ontology and epistemology. These are good and right discussions - just not up for grabs on that Sunday. Instead, I was leaning more into the fact that we need truth as a community, need to speak and hear truth from others if we are going to be challenged to grow, and, finally landed on the incredible promise that Jesus makes about knowing the truth and the truth setting us free. All good, right and biblical.

Two days before I preached a person came into my office, and, over the course of the conversation essentially said (and here I know them and believe them to be trustworthy and lovingly motivated) that they thought I was fat. 

Truth. Loving. Gotta say that in the moment, the "set free" part was a bit hard to take in.

Then, yesterday, in the wake of speaking about truth someone else, unrelated, emailed me to tell me that they thought that "my waistline wasn't getting any smaller."

Truth. Again from a loving person. Again, hard to feel really like I was free.

So, a couple of things come out of this whole discourse. First, I think I was naive in my message. Not that it wasn't true and right in a factual sense. Just a bit naive. As one who had been the recipient of some loving truth this past week I have to say, even the most loving truth can sting. I think I will include that if/when I ever speak about this again.

Secondly, about the freedom thing: What if it's the case that the freedom isn't an immediate gift that showers over us in a nearly nirvanna-esque manner in the moment truth is spoken? Instead, what if the truth, at least sometimes, is more like a catalyst towards a measure of growth (or, in this case, hopefully of a growth that really is a shrinking) that will be freeing? Or, what if the truth spoken in love is like a course corrective, setting us on a new direction that will in fact be more freeing a life that we would have had without that truth? Again, I think that this would be different if/ when I speak about it again.

Why say all of this? Well, for the most part I think it's just honest. But, more to the point I think it shows that this life of following Jesus Christ has a lot of dimension - it literally creeps and seeps into every pore of our being if we let it. I also think it's worth mentioning simply because this whole process of following Christ is just that - a process. As such it takes time, effort, LOTs of effort at times, hard work, decisions, discipline, the help of others, etc.

So, here's hoping that day 2 of my resolve to hear and act on the truth that has been spoken to me goes as well as the first. And, who knows, maybe 6-7 months from now I will be able to tell you about what the freedom part feels, smells and looks like!

Redemptive Obstacles

This past Sunday afternoon I was - along with millions of others I am sure - watching the NFL play-offs. In particular, I was watching the Bears/ Packers game - the result of which I liked quite a bit! Go Packers! How can anyone not like Aaron Rogers?!? I digress.

While I was watching, my daughter came in the room. Now, she's not a football fan at all. In fact, as she came and snuggled up next to me under a blanket her only comment was, "Are you still watching football?" Far from feeling the need to justify my football watching, my keen paternal sense was that what she was really saying was, "When are you going to be done with the TV!?!?!" I digress yet again.

After watching a down or two with me she said, "Dad, this is violent!" I agreed. Then she said something that caught me up a bit, "Dad, I don't think I will EVER play any sports." Now she had my attention. 

"Why not?" I asked.

"They are too hard," she said. "I just don't see why people would want to put themselves through that."

Now, two things have come to the fore for me as I thought about that comment. (In the moment I had to let it go cuz, well, I was pre-occupied with watching the game. Poor parenting, sure - I'll give you that.

As I thought about it, two things struck me. First, I would be really sad if my kids didn't play some sort of sports. For me, as I grew up, whether it was baseball, basketball, football, hockey - it didn't really matters. Some of the best things I ever learned I learned from playing on a team. In addition, some of my best friends were friends I made playing on teams. For all of these sorts of reasons, sports of some kind seems almost indispensable for kids.

But, the thing that struck me most was her comment about how hard it looked to her to play a sport. All of that got me thinking about obstacles and how good some of them can be for us. Allow me to explain.

In a podcast I listened to the other day Malcom Gladwell (writer extraordinaire) talked about a book he wrote entitled, "Outliers." It's a great read. But, as he commented on the book he said that the one regret he had about the book is that he didn't spend a lot of time talking/ writing about the power and usefulness of obstacles. His example was about class sizes. He wondered aloud if all the thinking about small class size was really flawed. In particular, he wondered if there isn't a loss to kids if they are always in small classes with individualized attention. What if, in this sort of context they never learn to initiate things themselves, problem solve with others in a group context, etc.? In this setting, the large class size is seen as an obstacle to many - and Gladwell wondered if the removal of this obstacle might result in more problems than it's presence. 

Now, pedagogical arguments aside, the point seemed worth pondering. What I realized is that a lot of my parenting and pastoring revolves around the notion that if I remove enough obstacles my kids will flourish and people will grow in their faith.

What if this isn't the case? 

What if removing the obstacles and making things as easy and accessible as possible is really a hindrance for my kids - even if it feels right in the moment?  is the same true for people searching for faith?

Even more creatively - what would it look like to engineer obstacles for our kids to teach them perseverance. WWould the same apply to faith?

Or, are the cynics right - is it the case that the world and faith matters are so rife with obstacles that no one will ever suffer from a lack of them so make things as easy as we can for now?

Are there redemptive obstacles? The answer clearly seems yes. However, in what ways should this shape parenting? leadership? faith? life?

Eagle's Flight

Eagle's Flight!

The other day I needed a resource - a hard to find, really exceptional resource. It's the sort of thing that you just can't run out to the store and get. I called a friend - he didn't have it. I called another. He had it, but it was unavailable. Then, he said, "But you know, you should call "Eagle's Flight."

Eagle's Flight is a company that specializes in conferences, training, leadership development, etc. I had never heard of them. But, I called.

Can I tell you that they were EXCELLENT! Above and beyond. Exceptional.

Not only did they have the resource - they said I could use it, generously offering it for free for the time that I needed it. 

The "free" part is really nice. But, more than that I have to add that they were helpful, encouraging and listened to a perfect stranger make a request of them.

I don't make a habit of pimping anything/ product etc. But, I have to tell you - in a world were almost everyone is looking for a $ grab, these guys stood out for there helpfulness to be sure - but even more for their character! Well played "Eagle's Flight" - well played indeed.

Chemo

Last week I met with my parents at the Oncologist. My dad has lymphoma. While we were waiting my mom took out some lunch she had brought with her - apples, soup, grapes, etc. I looked at the apples and noticed that one of them was covered with a white-ish film.

"What's with the apple?" I asked my mom.

"I don't know," she said, "I washed them but it wouldn't come off."

"Well, I think that stuff causes cancer," I said. "So, dad, since you already have it, you have to eat that one."

That moment aside, this morning my dad is launching his very own "Good-Ship-Chemotherapy." He was diagnosed with a form of cancer that requires the treatment for the next 6 months. If I think about it rationally I know it's the required course of action, routine, common. And a part of me genuinely feels that way.  I mean, the stats say that we will all know someone who has undergone chemo in treatment of cancer from our family. Why should we be any different?

A book I was reading the other day talked about "postures." It's the author's way of talking about how you approach and live through certain events and parts of life - that you "adopt a certain posture" towards whatever is before you.

I am not sure what the posture is that one should adopt towards chemo. Part of me wants to say - "No big deal, lots of people go through this all the time." Sadly, if the crowds at the cancer clinic are any indicator this is really the case. Part of me also wonders if you are supposed to sound the alarm bell - "Hey, we got a crisis over here!!!" But that doesn't seem right at all.

Dallas Willard says "Do the thing that you know to be right and then expect God to bail you out." I am under no illusion that God's bailing me out equated to my dad being cancer free. But, I wonder what it would look like? So, my resolve is to pray for my dad and mom. That seems right. I'm also going to ask God to heal - he has the power to do it, and maybe that's what he wants to do. And, I think that the right resolve here would also be to simply look to and "fix eyes on" Jesus. Some might accuse me of being simplistic on this one. But, it seems like the right thing to do - in all things, good, bad, challenging and the rest - fixing eyes on, orienting hearts towards and asking for the leadership, care, home and Kingdom of Jesus in my life and that of my family.

Oh, and for the record, even my dad wouldn't eat the apple . . .

Last night I attended one of what must be hundreds and thousands of Christmas dinners, celebrations and parties in the GTA alone. This one was for the participants (both Mentors and Friends) of Friendship ministries. Our family was honoured with the invitation to join them for their Christmas event. If you aren't familiar with their organizations, here's their vision statement:

          To share God’s love with people who have intellectual disabilities 

          and to enable them to become an active part of God’s family.

Now, let me be frank: my contact with those that have intellectual and/or physical disabilities has been very limited. And by very limited I mean, really, non existent. So, as a complete neophyte to this whole experience, let me make just a few, simple observations. 

First, I came home at the end of the event and I was getting ready for bed, chatting with my wife about the day and heard myself remarking, "You know, it's hard to come away from that dinner and NOT be pretty happy." There might be any number of reasons for this sort of reaction - and probably they are as numerous as the people who are involved in Friendship. However, I can say that in reflection on the event I would simply say that there was something beatific about the event - and I think it was the love and care. If it truly is on God's agenda (and I think it is) to create loving communities in which pretence, pride and position are offered up on an alter to self denying love, then it was present last night at Mo's Family Restaurant. It was a Kingdom moment. 

This leads to observation # 2: Judy. She sat at the table beside ours, and, altho I had never met her before we ended up chatting. A friendly and kind individual I would guess her to be in the 50-55 year old range. She serves in Friendship as a "mentor" to one of the participants and has done so for approximately 5 years. As we got to know one another I could see the passion in her face and hear it in her voice as she described her relationships at Friendship. At one point she remarked that, "There are a lot of meetings that I might miss, but this isn't one of them!"

Now, I don't know a lot about relationships, but this much seems clear to me: no one commits to a relationship long term if it is ALWAYS a giving affair. Barring some relational perversions, we stick with those relationships in which there is an exchange of feeling, good will, at times sacrifice, care and love.  Now, this was my first contact with Friendship - but if the number of hugs, smiles, tears and going-out-of-the-way-to-love-one-another moments is any indicator of the Kingdom of God, then it was present last night in a dinner party. It was a Kingdom moment.

Finally, I think there was one other Kingdom moment that needs to be mentioned. It's the Kingdom moment where we (and by "we" I really mean "I") are taught by God in and through unexpected means about our own deficiencies. What I mean is this: I was taught by Zach about his superpowers, hugged by  Adrian because he was glad to meet me, welcomed by John-Paul because he knew me from church, and invited to a Christmas party at one more "friends" house, "if I wasn't busy." In short, although I wasn't known to any of them in any significant way, I was taught about being welcomed, invited in and treated as if I belong - and done so with a genuineness and care that seemed, once again, to have the whiff of the Kingdom of God to it. 

Having said all of this, I am sure that the leaders of this group would first in line to say that there are challenges to this sort of ministry, and accuse me of being guilty of a "one-off" level of romanticism about the Christmas dinner. But, even if that is true, it's an accusation to which I can plead guilty without too much fuss. In the end, I  stand by my observation that a whole lot about what I read in the Bible as descriptors and indicators of the Kingdom of God were there last night. That made it beautiful and a delight to be part of. And while I don't know the date yet, I have next year's party penciled on my calendar already. 

My Neighbourhood

So, last night I did something I have never done. I went door to door through my neighbourhood. Now before you get any strange ideas about what I was doing, let me explain.

A few weeks ago I got an email from a neighbour that we already know. It was an invite to consider throwing a "Christmas Open House" for the people that live on our street. No other real agenda to it - just a chance to meet the people with whom we share the street. We plan to have some food, a glass of wine or two, and a chance for people to say hi to one another.

So, we made the plan, set the date, organized who was doing what. Everything was all in order. Then came the time to actually go door to door with the invitations. I was struck by a couple of things.

First, I was struck by the fact that I seemed a bit nervous. Sure they were strangers. Sure we hadn't met. But, all I was doing was inviting people to have some fun. Should that really make me nervous?

Secondly, I was struck by the fact that most people to whom I gave the invite looked at me a bit strangely. Sure, there were one or two who were genuinely thankful for the invite and thought it was a novel and good idea. But, a lot of people seemed a bit like a deer in the invitational headlights. What was this stranger doing at their door? Why was this person they had never met inviting them to something? And, beneath the surface, I suspect there was also a question that ran through their minds and went something like, "Why would I go to a party held by strangers and at which I will feel awkward, unknown and out of sorts?"

Maybe I was reading too much into the 10 second conversations I had at the doors of my neighbours.

Finally, here's what struck me most: I know next to nothing about stories of the lives that are being lived in the houses all around me. And, since last night I have also been struck by a second thought: I profess to believe in a God who knows the hearts,  stories,  worries, hopes, dreams, aches, and beauty of every single person on my street.

That seems overwhelming. I know only a few of the stories of the lives all around me. And, when I know them, I find myself caring, helping, praying for, etc., the people who's stories I do know. That made me think that the heart of God must ache with the knowledge of the stories and lives of humanity. Ache with pain when we suffer - but ache with longing as well when we dream and hope.

In any case, last night I walked through my neighbourhood and I met a bunch of new people. I have no idea if I will meet them this year at our open house. But, I do know that I will wave at a few more people that I met, maybe say hi when we see each other in the street. And maybe, as I get to know their stories a bit more I will find myself praying for them, aching with them as they share hopes and dreams and hurts and pain.

In any case, it was a good thing to do. Based on this post, it seems clear that this is still something that is sifting through me. All of that having been said, the good news is that there will be a party pretty soon with neighbours that right now are strangers - but who might turn out to be friends. And that alone would seem to be a good thing.