Leadership and the New Science

OR, “Who doesn’t own a dish drainer?”

Last night, we arrived at my in-laws’ house in Omaha, Nebraska after driving through bumper-to-bumper traffic in ice and snow for the last very slow half hour. After decompressing for an evening, I am today trying to “get my bearings” and prepare to be a help to my in-laws this week as they continue to cope with Paul’s dad’s ongoing medical issues. The most practical way to help, I am sure, is to generate and execute some sort of feeding plan for the seven people currently lodging here, a seven which includes three food-loving boys of my own. However, there is one obstacle in my way if I am to serve in kitchen duties here at the Brownback’s, and it is the same obstacle I have encountered in coming here for over 25 years. I just can’t decode the kitchen system—I don’t speak the same language and therefore I don’t “get” how to plug in and help. My mother-in-law is a fantastic cook with true gourmet tastes and a real keen eye for the latest trends in healthy eating. A few years ago, she and my father-in-law remodeled their kitchen with state-of-the-art equipment and she owns beautiful dishes, even for boiling water! It’s a far cry from my inherited knife set with which my daddy used to chop a head of iceberg lettuce into huge chunks meant to pass for salad and the sad microwave dishes I just will not throw away back home in Texas. However, it’s not the equipment that slows me down—it’s the clean up process. In all this amazing efficiency and creature comfort, I cannot for the life of me understand their dish cleaning system! Of course they load the dishwasher and I can to some degree do that—although my assessment of what “will go in the dishwasher” is much more inclusive than theirs. But beyond that, they don’t own either a dishpan OR—and here’s the real rub—A DISH-DRAINER. In all these years, that plastic or vinyl-wrapped wire grid in any form or color has never appeared anywhere in their abode—even before the remodel. Instead, when the non-dishwasher dishes are rinsed (in the water collected in the beautiful stainless sink because remember there is no ugly plastic pan), they are turned upside down on dishtowels laid out on the polished marble counters if they are not immediately dried and put away. Again, there is no prepared place for them to safely shed their water residue into the surrounding atmosphere while I do something more important than focus on the kitchen…did I mention there is no dish drainer?

I do realize that I’m straining at a gnat here—I do have that much objectivity. I know that on a very real level, it doesn’t really matter if the dishes are set out on a towel that eventually becomes wetter than the dishes were in the first place--a dish drainer is just my preference. I’m an out-of-the-box person, of course…why should the absence of the molded in China plastic object bother me? Nevertheless, this morning, it bothered me so much so that I heard myself saying, loudly, “WHO DOESN’T OWN A DISH DRAINER?” (And to any of you who do not, please feel free to weigh in later—or not.) As always, my line of thought sent me to a bigger picture, one which I have been captivated by lately. Yes, not surprisingly to those that know me, I made the leap from dish drainers to local church structure—and, to quote Craig Ferguson’s latenight routine, “Let me tell you why.”

In my book I present the “movable grid” concept that I evolved from a 20-year observation of church related to quantum versus classical physics. It is simply this: In the real world (which is a fleeting manifestation of a huge invisible world of truth), it is impossible to build a “GRID” large enough and wise enough to prepare for every possible contingency. We have tried to (and thought we could) do so in modern days gone by—drawing flow charts and creating manuals and policies—structuring for growth, doing the math, planning the work and working the plan. Though Jesus will never be banished from hearts truly seeking Him, we have still managed to build churches that are more institutions built in His honor than they are channels to capture His life! What I propose (and it lines up with the way the universe works), is that we give up the notion that we can figure it all out ahead of time and choose to let our desire for control die as we agree to be happy with a reduced “grid”: shrink our structures and allow them to breathe, realizing that their purpose is to capture and release life-flow, rather than contain it. I call it, simply, the movable grid (and my friend Jason Blue is teaching me that it also happens to be an emergent software design philosophy no less).

For at least five years, I’ve been actively using this concept to lead anything I’m in charge of: First, discern where the life-flow is—ask “Where is the energy, the inspiration, the grass roots excitement in people? Where does the passion want to flow?” THEN, create a small, flexible plan to facilitate the release of that life-flow—a movable grid. Don’t carve it stone and make a manual with a marketing plan, ready to change the church world—rather, humbly agree to participate in the larger Kingdom process trying to emerge by having eyes to see just enough structure to spark a flurry of life! (The good news is it works because this is the way life works and the way “messy” people in groups actually work!) Rather than applying an artificial structure to the process of doing church, we are participating with God, even in our planning—the divine cooperation that the Gospel offers is being lived out, not just in our personal lives, but in our corporate interactions! I’m sold—it’s the way it should be in local church!

At the Abbey Church, for years we have been resisting the notion that we must build a big and impressive grid. Voices from well-meaning people, and at times from our own flesh, have rung out around us, “You’d grow if only you would institute this program….or get organized…you just need someone administrative!” At times the noise was maddening—because sometimes our church landscape looked indeed like random chaos—at least on a practical plane. But we felt like there was an ark of God’s presence we were carrying and we dared not, like Uzzah in the Old Testament, reach up and try to steady it in our own strength (he died, by the way). We just couldn’t borrow a program of management; rather we were birthing a philosophy of leadership. We had to let the “Lazarus” die, rather than heal him, so that God could pull off a resurrection!

I feel, however, as we round the corner into 2009, that we have shifted seasons, and this brings me back to the dish drainer. This new style of leadership that I am advocating is NOT just passivity (as those with a modern mindset have often misunderstood it)—it is NOT THE ABSENCE OF ALL STRUCTURE. It never has been. It is rather, THE PRESENCE OF STRUCTURE THAT MANIFESTS FROM LIFE! THERE ARE STRUCTURES IN VARIOUS AND WONDERFUL FORMS—there really are some grids; there are a few small and unassuming lines to be drawn! Please, by all means, invest in a ten dollar dish drainer!! (Ironically, as I went to refill my coffee cup just now, a sign and a wonder had occurred in this Omaha kitchen: For the first time, someone had placed a plastic serving tray under the dishtowel on which the most recent dishes were draining—thus at least marking off the area to some degree, even if not providing air flow to speed the process of drying. The message is clear: IF WE ALLOW IT, STRUCTURE, TOO, WILL EMERGE ON ITS OWN.) I have spent years coaxing people to dare to let go of their massive attachment to precisely defined comprehensive structures, but I have never done so with a goal of anarchy but rather simply FLOW!

Although I’m not sure, I suspect that the reason Peg and Eldon never bought a dish drainer is two-fold: First, it looks ugly on the counter and second, a dish drainer seems “germ-y,” at least in some people’s minds (although I’d wager that the dishtowels are no better on either count, but there I go again…). In other words, there is a purist mentality that just doesn’t consider that the dirty work of clean-up needs to be prolonged or immortalized as a kitchen fixture. The kitchen should only have two modes: cooking and totally clean, with no in-between. On the other side of the divide from the people holding on to structures as if they are God Himself, is the potential of developing a new breed of Christian purists who are so afraid of structure that they allow nothing at all to manifest. If it even smacks of organization, they will be tempted to strike it down as “religious”. (Let’s be gentle on them, though: they are reacting to the old system where structure is god. Many of them have had their best dreams and visions choked to death by self-absorbed participants in the hierarchy that is not the real church). They are, in a word, as afraid of ANY GRID, as the modern hold-outs are of NO GRID! The culprit, on both sides, is simply fear—in insidious combination with its cousin, “flesh”! AND, the further newsflash is: If you want to do this church thing, you don’t get to remain a purist. People in groups are messy—always—messy like a manger in Bethlehem.

Last Sunday, we had an amazing service in which just enough of a grid was present to release God’s life-flow in amazing ways to people. We came with a plan to celebrate Christmas, but God came to the party and wanted to participate, and, as He does, he brought so much of Himself that the whole picture that emerged looked nothing like we planned. He refocused us on the amazing thing that Christmas is: the beginning of a full-scale invasion from heaven during which the Creator instituted a plan to completely recapture His errant creation! The “service” (or “meeting” if you are British or non-religious)—was amazing: it was the Kingdom of God manifesting in time and space—enough of a movable grid present to let it do so (thank God)! In the middle of all that, Kyle Parks felt He heard God say that there are those who are afraid of moving into the things God has ahead because they are afraid to leave their place of safety, but God wants to tell them that the place ahead is an even safer place—true safety is being right in the middle of the thing God is doing, rather than retreating in fear! Well done (hearing from God), Kyle. I believe it.

I want to proclaim that the best days of the Abbey are just around the corner. I’ve seen the future and it is good. Perhaps we have been weaned enough from the “church as usual” institutional format that we can now discover the corporate intention that the God of true order had for us all along. Perhaps God finally has the right relational ingredients at the right stages of maturity added to the colorful fabric that is the Abbey such that an undeniably clear picture is about to emerge. Perhaps it is just time—time in the earth, time in the heavenlies—kairos invading chronos TIME! Whatever the reason(s), I’m ready to proudly display our dish drainers, thrilled to say to the world that the church is not a pristine place of perfection and tidiness, but rather a WORKING ENVIRONMENT (in the physics, not the religious, sense of the word “work,” of course). We are alive, active and on the move, seeing a thousand horizons towards which to march armed with the truth! There are kingdoms of this world WAITING to become the Kingdoms of our God, but it is each and every one of us who will be the transformation-agents! There is much to be done; therefore, we are going to have to put some dish drainers out on the counters! It’s okay to have a grid when LIFE, MOVEMENT and PASSION necessitate it, but ultimately, we must never (and who would) fall in love with the dish drainer. It’s just a grid, designed to prevent frustration and facilitate freedom! It might even be ugly and “germ-y” but I’m truly thankful for the work it does!

God works in hearts, not primarily structures; therefore, structures that arise without the interaction of hearts have little validity. However, God has gifted leaders to actually lead, not just to wait, respond and live frustrated! LEADERSHIP IS BEING REDEFINED in the age we live in and the result of this redefinition is looking a lot more like Jesus. We are beginning to understand that leadership is about knowing where to lean and when to do so. It is “inspired focus at the time of need,” “wisdom to direct resources as they emerge,” and a thousand other things all more related to seeing than organizing as it is traditionally understood. AND, there is a call going out to rally around this vision TOGETHER. God is raising up a company of people who will help each other see—journey-mates discovering Kingdom leadership as an experience, live and on-line with God! (Beyond Maxwell and into Heissenberg!) It is the TRUE SAFE PLACE of church as God intended, rather than as man has tried to understand it. And it’s coming…and it’s here. I’ll close by simply quoting our friends from the rock band Delirious, and asking, “Are you ready?”

Party Quirks and More...

While pushing on for years towards the serious goal of expressing local church in ways that are both accurate and accessible, we have increasingly discovered the value of humor. Most of our gatherings have an edge of humor these days, but our Thanksgiving dinner has become our night at the improv. (I suppose the whole American evolution of a holiday on which we stuff ourselves with food and football in solemn commemoration of a harsh year’s bare survival starts us out on a foot of irony. Plus, we usually have several Brits present with us, due to the timing of a November conference we all attend, which makes for even more possibilities of tea and tax jokes along with some friendly national rivalry!) Modeling our games after the popular British-then-American show, Whose Line is it Anyway?, we have learned how to capitalize on our collective need to laugh at ourselves. This year’s Thanksgiving dinner was no exception.

Though I usually master-mind the festivities, this year I got to sit back and enjoy as the legendary mind of Tabitha Summers went to work. Releasing the next generation is a fulfilling experience, especially in this case. She went wild with the game they call "Party Quirks" and planned five rounds, each with participants that couldn’t have been selected more perfectly. If you are not familiar with the Whose Line is it? version, four guests with unusual character descriptions (quirks) assigned to them attend a party and the pretend host has to guess what each one of them has going on. The audience knows through subtitles so the fun is in watching the guests try to act out the situation and watching the host try to guess. In our case, Tab made a PowerPoint that told us the guests’ “agendas” without letting the host see. So, picture it: one by one the host answers the pretend doorbell ring only to have people enter who range from a “broadway star wannabe” to an “overdramatic detective finding ridiculous clues to a murder,” a “kindergartner posing for a class picture,” a “football player tackling in slow motion,” a “blind bird mistaking closed windows for exits,” or “random animals crossing the road.” As the person playing the host continues to ask the attendees, “Are you a….” they walk around, four at a time, squawking, banging, poking, bobbing and generally doing their own assigned things. Of particular mention was our British friend Alistair Beattie whose impression of a mouse running through a maze to get cheese will not be soon forgotten, as well as Reese Bailey who did a great job being “angry at the neighbors in the apartment downstairs.”

Eventually, with or without some help, the party hosts guessed the agendas of the quirky guests while we all laughed. I really wasn’t looking for a lesson or a poignant moment—just enjoying with the abandonment of someone who is not in charge! BUT, here we were in church and I couldn’t help but marvel at the metaphor. As I sat there watching, the “host” seemed to me like a church leader, trying to do something: throw a party beginning with that all-important step of welcoming guests properly, but the poor soul was completely at the mercy of the ridiculous agendas that each guest carried in. Whether it was an animal’s fear of becoming roadkill or the neediness of a Broadway wannabe, these guys did not show up to offer greetings like proper guests! Instead they wandered around the pretend party responsive only to the inner script they carried in the door. Some of them “did” their thing “to” the party host: tackled him, poked him, posed in front of him, pulled a hair from him for DNA testing…while others (the blind bird in particular) ignored the party host all together flying, running, banging all on their own in an effort to meet their “inner need”. Reese—angry at the folks down stairs—yelled and stomped on the stage, right in front of the baffled party host.

As I laughed (and I did really, really laugh), it actually seemed to be touching me. I realized that as a church leader I feel like I am (at least metaphorically) standing there trying to do something—organize something, host something, inspire something or just stir something—and often it just doesn’t work because the people in attendance have arrived with unmet needs inside of them, needs that are spinning off agendas and making them either oblivious or at least competitive with my “agenda”! “THIS is church,” I thought. People come as they are and fly, squawk, analyze, resent, chase, tackle, relive the past, and pursue a brighter personal future right through the call to change the world! Until you get a grip on what’s going on inside of the non-cooperators, it can be downright frustrating. And yet…I didn’t feel frustrated as I watched the Party Quirks fiasco! I felt strong appreciation and love for the strange and wonderful place we call church! I realized, in fact, that that’s exactly why I love the church so much! It is in this environment of unlikely synergy that God does His best work. God knows how to throw the party! He specializes in orchestrating the inner programming of His people such that by meeting their needs, He also builds the Kingdom. We as human hosts might at times feel mystified, but He is never caught off guard. (Somehow I seem to remember a band of distressed, in debt and discontented and a captain named David…hmmm…and these were called his "mighty men...")

Church is NOT like a business. At work you are expected to stuff your quirks (as best you can) and get your job done. You are not paid to relate but to perform (unless your business has a spiritual understanding of the workplace, that is—but that’s another blog entry). Church, however, when practiced as heaven intended, is not about performing at all. There may be jobs to do, but expectation and pushing on in spite of faulty inner programming is not the goal. Church is about coming as you are, broken but hopeful, gifted but challenged, and planting yourself in a network of Kingdom focus. So, your mixed inner bag cannot be hidden and should not be resented. Church is that strange and wonderful place where blind birds can stop flying into walls, but they need permission to hit a few now and then while they are healing. It is a safe place for people who have a larger goal in life than just being good “party guests” and not making a stir. And, though at times I’ll admit that I have felt like no one at this party is listening, I still wouldn’t trade my experience of being hooked relationally to God’s wonderful menagerie for anything!

Church really is holy chaos—even without any exotic “tangible manifestations” of the Spirit of God. This colorful array of people assembled for Kingdom purposes, is wildly wonderful in all their strengths and weaknesses—and how little they know it. They are God’s big tapestry spanning the ages—accomplishing His purposes via the most unlikely routes and candidates—a group of messy messengers with enough wisdom to come to the party but no idea what to do with themselves once they’ve arrived. God in heaven laughs with joy and I should, too, as their leader.

Why wouldn’t I laugh? Why would I instead resent wounded church people for their lack of cooperation? In those moments, I am afraid I have fallen back on the false but easily revived notion that it all depends on me. A sense of responsibility is good, but heaven’s measurements of success are often quite different than earth’s and if I have accidentally replaced some of my gold shields with brass ones, I will forget that the only One who can orchestrate this shindig is the Creator of the world and the Author and Finisher of our faith, who by the way, has also proclaimed himself the builder of the church! Even amidst corrupted inner agendas, God himself will show up, guiding people to assemble not just as bodies but as spirits joined for a purpose and truly meeting one another’s needs. It’s God’s party—God’s festival—God’s show, not mine. I am really just the host!

Joseph Campbell (Hero of a Thousand Faces) says there are two major pitfalls in every hero’s life—the first is thinking it all depends on me and the second is thinking it all depends on “them”. God give us leaders in church who are real heroes—those who have met both of these obstacles and reached beyond them. They are the ones who will no longer be angry over the party quirks or frustrated at their inability to wrestle control of the dysfunction! With a gaze fixed on heaven’s agenda, they will also look continually to God for the enabling of that agenda (rather than further “enabling” people’s quirks!). With all my heart, I believe that God is raising up these kind of leaders—hosts—ready to answer the door and receive the seeking masses. Our best days in church are yet to come! I’ve seen the future and I’ve laughed with joy! I'm not afraid of our "party quirks"!

Stripped Down

Decyfer Down is a Christian hard rock band that has won great popular acclaim in the past few years. If you are into that scene at all, you have heard of them. They are on the road more than they are home in North Carolina, often playing very large gigs or mainstream clubs and have already travelled overseas sharing their melodic anthems with other nations. A week ago, we found out they had a night open while in our area and through a mutual connection who set it up, they were willing to come to our Wedsnesday night youth meeting. Since is was a bit unofficial and we knew we didn't have the time to plan and promote or space to permit a large concert, we came up with the idea of an "unplugged" format with less music and more sharing, relaxed and intimate in style to fit the setting. The band readily agreed to this refreshing idea, even though we actually had to round up acoustic guitars for them since theirs had a while back been stolen out of their trailer (the joys of life on the road). In other words, this was a thing this band doesn't often do. If they had a comfort zone, this would have been out of it.

When the concert time rolled around, Decyfer Down sat on stools in the middle of a stage full of candles and throw pillows and begin to do acoustic renditions of a few of their metal masterpieces. They had been alone in our church building all day preparing so no one had heard a rehearsal. From the first strum, we were all transfixed. Stripped down, it turns out that what lies beneath all those hard rock compositions is a whole lot of musicianship and vocals that are amazingly clear and powerful. With two guitars, a djimbe and Caleb Oliver's voice, these four guys covered their own songs and created a world of sound that came alive from our little stage. It was mesmerizing and the air was thick with the tender passion of artists expressing their hearts with nothing to hide behind. I found myself so appreciative to have been a witness to it and I know that the crowd that gathered felt the same way. There are just some evenings you walk away from knowing that heaven not only smiled, but also applauded. The band enjoyed it too it seemed. It turns out that these four guys truly believe what many people try to preach: that it doesn't matter the size of the crowd or the "sexiness" of the gig--what matters is the power of the music to express a real experience with the living God.

While I sat listening and being amazed (I mean, for me musically it was comparable to a few of my most inspiring Dave Matthews moments--and this accolade I don't hand out lightly), I thought about the metaphor the whole thing presented. Sometimes, life hands you the opportunity to just strip it down and see what's actually underneath the complicated driving music that you have evolved. You may have been singing your song loud and strong and thrilling the crowds, confident that you are on the road to success when suddenly, like the guys of Decyfer Down, you find yourself alone on a stage with a bare minimum of accommodation (and even borrowed instruments!). It is then that you find out what's underneath--it then that you get to strip it down and hear the essence of your true voice once again. This joyous test can be a reminder of what it is all about, a recalibration and a celebration of the simplicity of grace that underlies our busy Christian pursuits.

We make ministry and life so complicated and my own world is no exception. The talks I give are full of visuals, whether they are slides from my electronic library of power points or the latest YouTube video I have downloaded in an effort to bypass boredom and sail my point into the right side of the brain. I work hard at the craft God has given me and I take seriously the challenge to change the world (and the church--a harder gig), setting it on fire with the flame that lights me. However, I have walked with God long enough to know that He always knows just when I need to pause and, for one night at least, STRIP IT DOWN.... Think of it: I have the rare and exciting privelege of helping people see how quantum physics lines up with the ancient truth of the Christian faith, but I also have the brilliant opportunity to demonstrate that faith in simple kindness to a child who could care less what photons do! I love to help people get free from old left-brained wineskins that hinder Kingdom expression, but there are times when people simply need to taste the actual wine and not be bothered!

My husband calls me an "orthodox revolutionary" who will challenge the church to change using--not something new--but rather what they actually already technically believe! That is my "rock and roll" and people are beginning to expect it from me when they attend my "concerts". BUT, the other day when I found myself sharing with a waitress who had just left her husband after the humpteenth time he had beaten her, I knew it was time to "take the stage" stripped down. She didn't care if the church was engaging postmodern culture--she just needed to know Jesus could lift the oppressive weight of shame that was polluting the culture in her immediate vicinity. Yeah, we all have to strip it down sometimes.

It occured to me while listening to Decyfer Down that their willingness to be "stripped down"--not just musically but spiritually as well--was the very thing that would qualify them for larger and larger platforms. In a world where identity is too often tied into success and stardom, (even in the Christian arena), these guys have an opportunity to make a difference and "keep it real" and I think they will do it. The evening reminded me of being in Littlehampton England at the church where Delirious? are members on a Sunday when they just happened to be on the rotation for worship leading responsibilities. There we watched the band that has played to capacity crowds around the world deal with gliches in the sound systems and unexpected turns in the order of service just like thousands of unheralded worship leaders do around the world every Sunday. They were stripped down! And...they didn't mind. Their roots were the local church and they had never allowed their scope to exceed their depth. They knew that being stripped down from time to time was a healthy part of the process of growth in the Kingdom.

In a world of insecurities, God, not Tony Robbins, is the expert confidence builder. And, in His usual way, God creatively plans experiences to reintroduce us to our own authentic voice in Him. When we are stripped down, we remember who we are. Rather than being "all about me," after those times we seem to finally be able to get out of the way and let it be "all about Him". Confidence comes from remembering your roots and having a good laugh once again at the impossibility of all the things you are doing, except by Grace. When you are stripped down, the thought that you could have pulled any of this off on your own becomes ridiculous and you relax back into the huge cradling arms of a Savior's complete redemption. By stripping off the trappings, you are actually empowered. When you find yourself happy to sing strong and pure alone on the stage and exposed by simplicity, you just might be ready for the stadiums and the lights. Follow Decyfer Down's example and refuse to miss the joy of ocassionally stripping it down.

As for my fan status, I literally "bought the t-shirt" (the babydoll shaped one, pink on black...cool) as well as the CD which I will be loading onto my iPod and taking to the gym, but the merchandise I will treasure more is the glimpse of redeemed hearts that I caught. Real church has happened when we have presented a real Jesus wrapped in our own skin and THAT is the "deciphering" for which the world is waiting. Let them see your hearts--not your status or accomplishment--and people will be changed.

I made some new friends that night because of the unity of purpose that we all felt. I wonder however how many Christians long for this same connection, not really sure it is possible. If the army of the authentic could begin to coalesce beyond the trappings of religion, what a noise they would make. Here's to everyone with that desire!

WISH YOU WERE HERE

I think that in 1960 when I drew my first breath I also took on the search for my life's purpose. I am probably the ultimate seeker (so it means alot when I say I've FOUND Jesus...). I cannot remember a time that I wasn't trying to hone in on what was "my one true chance of greatness" (a line from "Chariots of Fire"). Writing a personal mission statement wasn't an exercise in a seminar to me: it was my life's work, everyday and every minute. Intense? Yes. Bored? Never.

Many years ago, however, in a relational context, I accidentally formulated much of what I'm about in a very refreshing way. I was writing a letter to a German journalist who I had met on a trip to visit my cousin in Belgium. He was as agnostic as they come and yet open to spirituality in a general (pantheistic) sense. I represented his first-ever encounter with a Christian who seemed to attach his spiritual interests to the Gospel, rather than barage him with a litany of his errors. Caught up in my passion for writing to him, brain for the moment servant to heart, I wrote these words: "My mission is to cause non-Christians to think about Christianity--and to cause Christians to think--about anything!" I realized as soon as the words presented themselves before me, I had opened up a door that I would be walking through for the rest of my life.

And so it began: my efforts to interpret culture, create postmodern apologetics and present the Gospel free from all the religious trappings that keep people away. I feel as strongly as ever the call to both awaken the spiritual mind in the body of Christ and to redeem the awakening spiritual mind that is "out there" in the culture. (I'd rather connect with Oprah and lead her back into the God she has shunned rather than criticize her constantly for searching beyond religion...)

Considering the terrain I'm taking on, it is no surprise that being misunderstood is a frequent landform. Most of the opposition I encounter doesn't merit description. (I pour my heart out making Acts 17-based comparisons between the poets of the Apostle Paul's day and the lyricists of ours only to have someone rejoice afterwards with the gross oversimplification: "I'm so glad I can listen to secular music at this church.") The other day, however, in yet another one of my forays into living my mission, I had an encounter so poignant that it begs description here.

Ever since I rediscovered, "Shine On You Crazy Diamond," (see the blog entry with that name) the tragic story of Syd Barrett has pulled at my heart. Much like the death of Kurt Cobain, Barrett's story and the music Pink Floyd produced in tribute to him seems to represent the cry of a generation who was desperate for more reality than the church was able to produce (for the most part--that too is a gross oversimplification, but give it to me for now). Recently, as I stood staring down a whole aisle of "new age" books in a Barnes & Noble, I heard the beginnings of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" on the store sound system. I knew ahead of time I was about to be broken:

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

The words at that moment were alive. The whole first section spoke so strongly about the knowledge of good and evil--the desperate search for meaning doomed to futility by the limits of the human brain--insanity is the only logical outcome when the Eternal is not in the system. And the line, "and did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage..." seemed to cut through me as sharply as the best preaching has ever done. At that moment I wasn't feeling for Syd Barrett any more. Rather I was thinking of the pathetic taming that seems to happen in Christians as they watch a few dreams take on the appearance of disappointment. I was asking myself to what degree I had exchanged, for whatever reasons--none of which were good enough--my strategic assignments in the Kingdom for something that appealed more to my needy self-image...only to realize down the road I was in a cage. Yes, I wept that day as I stood there, blown away by the fact that the God I know as the Father the Lord Jesus, breather of Holy Scriptures, worker of signs and wonders by his ever-powerful Spirit, was somehow speaking to me through seemingly godless rock stars.

I deemed that moment worthy of sharing and did so in the next scheduled time I had to give a "church talk". I described the encounter and what it meant to me. I talked about the army of "when pigs fly" t-shirted people who had listened to those words a thousand times. I knew that they were lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year--always and only running over the same old ground and bumping into the same old fears. I described my desperate passion to introduce them to the Jesus who could change that situation. At the same time I admitted my extreme grief caused by the thought that the church itself was so similarly disposed! If we are brutally honest--and we so seldom are--many of us feel a bit like that describes the secret wilderness we hide from even Jesus because we think we should be "doing better". I expressed the pain I felt for the world and the church simultaneously. After all, the thing they have in common is simply their humanity and no human condition is glorious when unsubmitted to the big picture of Kingdom life. So, I cast restraint aside and poured out my passion before my hearers, certain that God was igniting a call.

When I had finished, we had a lively discussion and many people affirmed, suggested and had words from heaven to add to the emergent message. However, one lady who had come, raised her hand and said, "I don't get it at all. Those words sound just made up to me--like gibberish. They don't make any sense to me and I haven't understood a thing you have said." I stopped short of suggesting to her the acquisition of "a life" and instead pulled from some training somewhere in my past about how to affirm divergent opinions in group dynamics. I hated every second of it however.

Today, as I sit musing, it occurs to me why I hated it. The lady who said these things was not a complete novice. She has been a Christian for years and hears words from God, prays them out, and many times has blessed many people. She has a heart for God and the Kingdom and does not just deserve to be filed as "too religious". She didn't object based on the fact that it was (blush when you say it) Pink Floyd drug era rock lyrics. She just honestly didn't get a thing out of those lyrics or my discussion of them! Why? Because she honestly did not know how to THINK about things outside the scope of the Christian experience. It all went back to my mission...I had asked her to do something that she wasn't accustomed to church asking her to do: put some previously disconnected thoughts together into a new perspective; see a new view; experience a concept beyond its surface value...LET HER RIGHT BRAIN INFORM HER LEFT...and she immediately felt the disorientation.

It's not her fault: WE the church have conditioned her. Like a lost skill or atrophied muscle, there is an area of our brains that we have abandoned through our fear of ending up in "reasoning" that would hinder the Spirit of God. I get it! I have fought and conquered that kind of reasoning (strongholds in thinking that oppose the Gospel) all my Christian life. BUT, I want to say that there is a positive action to that negative. The Christian life is not just about "UNDOING" the negative thoughts and rejoicing that we are purged! There is a thinking to be done! There is a "waking up" of the mind that represents another level of Kingdom effectiveness--an ability to not just have ears, but HEAR!

The mind can serve the Spirit and do great exploits for God. WHEN WE SO SEPARATE THE TWO THAT WE THINK WHAT GOD DESIRES IS SOMETHING LIKE A LOBOTOMY, WE ARE STILL BEING A VICTIM OF THE GREEK DUALISM THAT PRODUCED THE REASONINGS OF WHICH WE ARE SO AFRAID. Let us fully escape the aritificiality of compartmentalization and embrace the joy of being a whole, united for God. It is helpful and desirable to realize that we are triune beings and that the spirit and the mind are not one and the same. God redeems the Spirit instantly and the mind is being renewed as a process. But being renewed to what??? Just to be sumbissive or to learn to THINK FROM A NEW REALM???

Here's the real rub: There are some seekers out there who will be pulled into Christianity by their attempts at spiritual thinking. If they honestly approach the spirit dimension--whether it be through the motions of quarks and Schrodinger's cat, or through lyrics that reflect the devastation of spirtual emptiness--at some point they will poke through the mist and strike something solid. And when they grope towards that Rock that they have stumbled upon, they will find out it is not just a body of ideas, but a living Being capable of not only providing shade and substance, but also pouring out living waters of refreshment. True seekers will find. My question is simply: where will the church be standing when they do? Will they be anywhere nearby, or will they be safely locked away in the cloister? Will they have been able to "think" far enough outside of their own inner world to see the panorama of God-possibilities that has played out?

Maybe the lady I described to you here is just "not my tribe". Maybe she's fine the way she is and I have a different calling and audience. Or maybe she represents a general need in the body of Christ to have some splashes of water land upon our sleeping brains. Perhaps we could summon them (our brains), not just to "get out of the way and stop hindering" but rather to participate with the swirling realities that are the Kingdom of God and put on a uniform and go to war!

I have only scratched the surface in this quickly-written blog. This subject is deep and wide and clearly, "the rest is still unwritten..." However, if just one person has been inspired in the least to Kingdom open-mindedness, I have lived my mission here in print.

There Ought to be Clowns

It was a lovely community Easter service here in Azle, Texas this year. For the music portion, rather than the worship band we had originally planned (composed of pastors from several churches--a good idea except for the fact that there was only one brief practice scheduled for that unlikely group), we received a call from a friend of ours who has a 25-piece orchestra that does hymns and Christian standards in jazz and swing style. They had had a cancellation for that night and were all ready to play but needing a venue. We gladly obliged. They opened the program with several amazing inspirational renditions of songs like "His Eye is On the Sparrow," and then turned it over to us. Because we wanted to do things with both excellence and inclusiveness, we had worked out an order of service that included all the board members popping up and taking the mic, one with announcements, one with prayer, and yet another to receive the offering--all of this strategically placed around a 20 minute preach. As the best laid plans often do, this one got mixed up and ended up with someone on the mic closing with prayer before the assigned offering person had done her thing. Laughingly, the president of the board interrupted and made the correction and all was well. When the plates were passed, the orchestra began the final song they had planned for the evening. As the mellow tones lilted through the host church's lovely building, I kept thinking, "Could this be?....No, certainly not. Surely, they wouldn't play..." And yet it was, unmistakably revealing itself by its chorus, the song "SEND IN THE CLOWNS." (And you may, like me, remember clearly the refrain, "Where are the clowns; There ought to be clowns...Send in the clowns...Don't bother they're here...")

I was overwhelmed with intrigued amusement as I looked around to see if any of the other attendees "got the joke". Later, I would find out that the orchestra leader had requested permission to include that song simply because of the beauty of its melody, but, at the time, the words that the melody brought to mind were all I could hear, poignantly commenting on our little exercise in group dynamics! As I looked around, I realized that I was alone in my mirth, for few people besides me dared to see the ministerial alliance leaders as "clowns"! I realized then that I was extrapolating the experience to a bigger picture that reaches far beyond that community service.

So many times in church leadership, we fall into the pseudo-messianic complex that manifests itself as over-planning. While any leader worth his salt will put the required time in ahead of an event, we often launch into desperate efforts to administrate, calculate, predict and capture a Kingdom that, by its own Founder's declaration, is clearly not of this world! We don't want to appear unprepared or uninformed...we don't want to be like the guy who rode into the old western town on his horse and said, "Which way did they go? I must find them for I am their leader!" We may end up with a product that looks polished and precise when we "plan the work and work the plan," but I am afraid heaven might at times have another view, one which includes clowns.

This is why business leaders often have struggled in church leadership. They look around them and see what appears to be chaos and feel called to institute the same order that they are accustomed to in the marketplace. More manuals, guidelines and procedures, more ducks in a row...they are sure they have the answers for the church. And, quite admittedly, God does use them to right the undisciplined wrongs when the disorganization is a product of neglect. In that respect we do need what they have to offer, of course. But still, church built by men's efforts alone will always be a comedy of errors (and actually, the same could be said for businesses, though that's another blog about the marketplace).

What you might need to know to keep from feeling bruised at this point is that I wholeheartedly include myself in the ranks of the clowns! Though I am passionately "all about" discerning the hidden order in the holy chaos, I am still a human with a drive that can at any time veer back into command and control. With all my heart, I believe that church leadership is about cooperating with the Kingdom of God as it is emerging from each and every participant, at times I still think I know better what that process should look like. I am a curious mix of overwhelming abandonment to the big picture and administrative want-to that gets in the way of my own vision! I am, unapologetically, one of the clowns. I am laughing at myself!

But here's the kicker: Even though it's so--even though church leaders stumble over their own efforts and performance-orientation so frequently that their walk often "becomes a crawl" (to quote DC Talk), God still says, "SEND THEM IN...THERE OUGHT TO BE CLOWNS!" God, though we wonder at it, has one resource from which to choose leaders, and that is PEOPLE--broken, breakable and sometimes in-the-middle-of-breaking PEOPLE! Leaders are clowns because they are just PEOPLE! We too often fail to realize the extent to which grace has already made up for our human shortcomings and therefore qualified us to lead, serve and minister. It's all by the very grace we preach, though we often refuse to dispense that quantity to our own hearts, especially in matters related to the church.

So, you might breathe a sigh of relief today and join the fraternity (non-gender limited, that is) of the clowns. Have a laugh at your failed efforts and misguided dreams knowing that God smiles upon you like a child trying to cook a meal for a parent. And then, in the midst of that reality, hear God's vote of affirmation strongly in you. He's not saying, "Send in the professionals, send in the experts, send in the strong and polished and perfect..." He is saying, for all those who can receive it, to every situation where the KINGDOM needs to come...SEND IN THE CLOWNS. Just as Isaiah said, "Here am I, send me," when confronted with the life-changing experience of God's glory, you can respond to the call with a completely transparent yeildedness to God as you look up to Him and say, "Don't bother, they're right here..."

Of Dreams and Tunes

I finally got one--a "giant" iPod like my sons have. I had maxed out the thousand-song capacity of my smaller iPod months ago and just stopped adding new music at all, because to earn the space to add, I had to choose something to remove. I had already axed so many lesser tracks from albums that the choices were becoming impossible. Who can choose between losing a Dylan classic or one of the latest Delirious? tunes? I had bumped up against my tune carrying capacity and only the upgrade could save me.

But, once I got the upgrade, I immediately plugged in the ridiculously long number on the back of the $25 iTunes card I had been holding onto for months and I was suddenly set free in the world of spending and space to store! I thought it would be a great moment for me (it was certainly an anticipated one), but instead, my zeal turned to inertia as I sat overwhelmed. Every genre of music called to me--things I had heard on satellite radio and thought again and again, "I must get that..."--obscure things from my teenage years that, now that I reflect, may have meant more to me than I realized...it was all too much. Rational thought told me that this was only the beginning and I could load songs to my heart's content, but at that moment, I didn't know where to begin. What did I really want?

Then the strangest thing happened. Out of the milleau of David Crowder band, folk rock and 70's possibilities (I already have all Dave Matthews and U2), a memory arose. One of my most pleasant memories is taxi-ing on a British Airways-owned vehicle, whether it be a plane going to or from the gate, or the tram between terminals at Gatwick. In those moments, I am treated to the ethereal voices of women singing opera in soft, lilting harmony. Yes, I bonded with the British Airways music. Something about it made me feel like I was living my dream of world travel and even if my overnight flight had bumped and bounced through stomach-churning turbulence in economy class, those ladies' voices made me feel like I was a first-class passenger. I had made a mental note: must get that music. But how to find such a song? I had no idea.

So, I typed in the only two key words that I could come up with: "British" and "classical". Due to the wonder of information systems, within seconds, I had downloaded the Flower Duet from the opera Lakme much to my amazement. (There was actually an album of classical music from television that included the British Airways designation in the title!) That successful acquisition instantly brought another musical desire to my mind: the thing that is playing when they show the video of the queen's coronation--and that useful designation is all the information I seemed to have on that. So, back to the keyword search I went and typed in "coronation". Lo and behold, there are albums of, wait for it, "coronation music" on iTunes! And once I was presented with the titles, I recognized Handel's Zadok the Priest and presto!

So, this morning at the gym, rather than using my usual work-out accompaniment, I did my cardio to The Flower Duet and Zadok the Priest from my new, expanded iPod collection. It was memorable and surreal.

What is the point? I'm not sure there needs to be one, for it would be enough to celebrate my eccentricity related to this topic, however, a point does strike me. We speak often in the church of buried dreams and desires that God wants to unearth. I wonder how often we believe it. Hope deferred, as the Bible says, really does make the heart sick. We have given our hearts to so many things that haven't worked out. Our sick hearts, when presented with clean slates and asked "What do you want?" often do what my mind did before the endless possibilities of iTunes...they just freeze up.

But, I think God has surprises in store for us in terms of buried dreams. If we would simply dare to intitiate the search--grabbing on to the few key words we seem to have, God--who is even more vast, capable and informed than iTunes--would supernaturally put us in touch with some of the things we have longed for for years. Matt Redman in his song Believer says, "I am a dreamer with some old dreams...let them now come."

We toss away old dreams that haven't manifested, not realizing that God (to whom "manifestation" is not such a big deal) hasn't tossed them. If you have lived through some highs and lows in your Christian life and you still love God, your capacity to hold dreams may have been upgraded like my iPod! Years of trusting God when you couldn't trace him may have expanded you and God may be wanting to download some things into you that will connect with the depths of your being! Go ahead, do the search and let the soundtrack of your life be changed. He's waiting for you in your dreams....

And for me...so what if many of my dreams have a British accent like my song choices? I have long since ceased trying to explain that. Stranger callings and drawings have been experienced in the Kingdom. I continue to feel that across-the-pond connection, though I feel more tied in than ever to my own city, state and nation, satisfied that God knows where we all live!

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Several events in my life recently layered themselves to direct my attention to Pink Floyd (I'm sure that happens to all redeemed retro's from time to time, right?). My son's 5th grade science fair project in which we constructed a light box and attempted to view the spectrums created by various prisms (purchased at moderate expense on e-bay) was heavy on inspiration but light on actual results, so I went in search of a way to add a little pizzazz to his presentation. Two days before the event, my only hope of finding a prism with color spectrum on a t-shirt was--of course--finding a Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt at the local Target. (I admit I enjoyed imagining the quizzical looks at the sight of a 10 year old pastor's kid wearing the shirt, but that's another blog entry...)

Our good friend, Norman Barnes, happened to be staying with us when Noel first put on his t-shirt. You must know Norman to imagine his response, so I will attempt to succinctly describe him. One part quintessential British gentleman, one part rock and roller and one more part fiery preacher, he is unforgettable indeed. And he LOVES Pink Floyd. When he saw Noel in the shirt, Norman interrupted whatever conversation may have been going on at the time with his impromtu rendition of Shine on You Crazy Diamond, reminding us all how much he loved that song. We all chuckled (and later when we caught him not listening to a discussion, accused him of actually having Pink Floyd piped into his hearing aid), but the song stuck with me days after he had returned to his flat on the English coast.

The phrase intrigued me. I had been meditating on the gifts described in Romans chapter 12, gifts we who like to name things often call, "the motivational gifts" because they seem to describe a person's gestalt or innate inner agenda. What had occurred to me when reading these gift descriptions (Romans 12:6-8) was that rather than cautioning us about the possible excesses of our natural bents, God seems to be handing out hearty endorsements. In other words, rather than saying, "Now you administrative types, you be careful that you don't become too bossy and alienate those around you...," God rather says, "If you are going to administrate, do it with diligence!" Everything in me thinks, "But God, people (including myself) will go wild--you'll have a free for all on your hands! Are you really advocating the unbridled release of whatever is inside us??? Wouldn't that give free reign to the flesh?" Once I ceased from the ever-useless argument with the Creator, I realized that I still didn't understand "the flesh".

God endorses, encourages and even sponsors the release of the gifts he put inside us. HE is not the inner governor that tells us, "be careful and don't overdo." THAT, once finally unmasked, is actually the voice of the flesh powered by that irritatingly persistant force: the fear of man (the fear of what people would think if I dared to "shine"). God created us with inner circuitry intended to receive the flow of his divine energy--each of us is a laser light show that declares, "there is a God," in our own unique way. Ultimately, I became so passionate about this facet of the goodness of God that I summarized it, in "Maxwellian" leadership form, as something I called, "The Law of Endsorsement," stating it in this way: "You enter a new zone of power when you realize that God, who created the essence of your being not only wants to release you to be yourself but further wants to display himself through your uniqueness."

My Law of Endorsement, however, seemed to have already found expression (minus the inclusion of God) in Shine On You Crazy Diamond. Thanks to YouTube, I was able to quickly access a version of the song and thanks to Wikipedia, I was able to fill in the gaps in my knowledge about it and about Pink Floyd. It turns out that the song was written as a tribute to Syd Barrett, the member of the group whose head was ravaged by the drugs and fame so much so that he had to leave the group. The words call out to him to somehow keep on shining--adding his own important hues to the color spectrum of humanity. They are a moving call to anyone who has fallen from the mainstream and is edging into oblivion--a call to life, even when life doesn't make sense.

If Pink Floyd could see that every diamond needs to shine on, no matter how "crazy" they may appear to others...that every person was created with a beauty meant to be displayed and not hidden, surely the body of Christ can see that truth! If they can issue a beautiful and haunting call to shake off the shame of personal tragedy and commit to letting our inner light shine, surely Christians whose light is fused with God's can actually answer that call!

The diamond metaphor infers that the pressures and heat of our lives only serve, in the grand scheme of things, to compress boring carbon into stunning gemstone. And it further implies that our gifts, like diamonds in the ground, may be buried deep under a whole lot of earth that masks their value. But still, in spite of it all, I hear Norman Barnes singing loudly in my head, Shine On You Crazy Diamond...more than that, I think I hear echoes of Jesus in that song. Because the fact is, HE is glorified when I remove the inauthenticicty and just dare to shine...and he is NOT glorified when through false humility, I fail to...