Fantastical Conference

Two weekends ago Jonathan and I went to this. It was truly fantastical. And ridiculous, to use one of David Crowder's other favorite adjectives. It was essentially a laboratory of experimental church music from bands that formed to create music unique to their faith community--faith communities being everything from house churches in Denver to church plants in Brooklyn to mega-churches in London.

Here's what I loved. Besides the fantastical music (favorites include The Welcome Wagon, Gungor, The Civil Wars, Mike Crawford and His Secret Siblings, BioFrost Arts, etc.) the general session speakers, workshops, panels, etc. inspired so much creativity and thought. I especially was liberated by their encouragement: to be sensitive to my own faith community's language and experience, making it uniquely ours; to be resourceful and creative with the vocals and musicians we've been given; and to RELAX... our goal is not to be a polished, perfect performance, but to provide a truthful, spirit-filled place where people can worship. This last one is key where I am right now.

As mentioned before, one of the groups that played was Mike Crawford and His Secret Siblings from Jacob's Well in Kansas City. I loved the lyrics to their song "Words to Build a Life On." Because of the more repetitive nature of the melody, it takes on a very Psalm-like quality, but with the building dynamics it becomes a powerful anthem. Thought I'd share the words here (and you can click the above link to listen).

These are words to build a life on
These are Your words how can they be mine
These are words to build a life on
These are Your words I want them to be mine

Blessed are the poor
Blessed are the weak
Blessed are the ones
Who can barely speak

Blessed in your hurt
Blessed in your pain
Blessed when your teardrops
Are falling down like rain

Blessed when you’re broken
Blessed when you’re blind
Blessed when you’re fragile
When you have lost your mind

Blessed when you’re desperate
Blessed when you’re scared
Blessed when you’re lonely
Blessed when you’ve failed

Blessed when you’re beat up
Blessed when you’re bruised
Blessed when you’re tore down
Blessed when you’re used

These are words to build a life on
These are Your words how can they be mine
These are words to build a life on
These are Your words I want them to be mine

Blessed when you’re heartbroke

Blessed when you’re fired

Blessed when you’re choked up
Blessed when you’re tired

Blessed when the plans
That you so carefully laid
End up in the junkyard
With all the trash you made

Blessed when you feel like
Giving up the ghost
Blessed when your loved ones
Are the ones who hurt you most

Blessed when you lose your
Own identity
Then blessed when you find it
And it has been redeemed

Blessed when you see what
Your friends can never be
Blessed with your eyes closed
Then blessed you see Me

These are words to build a life on
These are Your words how can they be mine
These are words to build a life on
These are Your words I want them to be mine

Blessed when you’re hungry
Blessed when you thirst
Cause that’s when you will eat of
The bread that matters most

Blessed when you’re put down

Because of me you’re dissed
Because of me you’re kicked out
They take you off their list

You know you’re on the mark
You know you’ve got it right
You are to be my salt
You are to be my light

So bring out all the flavor
In the feast of this My world
And light up all the colors
Let the banner be unfurled

Shout it from the rooftops
Let the trumpets ring
Sing your freaking lungs out
Jesus Christ is King!

Jesus is my Savior
Jesus is divine
Jesus is my answer
Jesus is my life

These are words to build a life on
These are Your words how can they be mine
These are words to build a life on
These are Your words I want them to be mine

Give us ears that we may hear them
voice that we may sing them
life that we may live them
hope that we may give them
hearts that we can feel them
eyes that we can see them
thoughts that we may think them
tongues that we may speak Your words

Fresh Expressions in the Church

One of my favorite bloggers, TallSkinnyKiwi, posted this article from the London Times about a new movement in the Church of England. The concept isn't new--it's been happening organically for a couple of decades (at least in England... the U.S. has been a little slow to catch on). But what I find interesting and encouraging is that it's only just now being sanctioned by the upper-powers.

It reminds me of how English developed in Great Britain. It wasn't the wealthy and nobles who established English as the main language, because they were few and far between and therefore, had weak influence. Instead it began as the speech of the peasants and gradually built up momentum because of the large numbers. Then it became the language of the people.

From what I've seen, certain change cannot be commanded; it can only grow from a grassroots movement--especially in the Church. We limit our resources, and therefore mission, if the only ideas come from the uppers. We also limit our mission if we underestimate the power of personal "referrals" and word-of-mouth "advertising". So much depends on the bottom-up stream of change.

where's the f** in church?

We've been in an odd season in our church recently. The words "disillusioning", "hopeful", "frustrating" and "confusing" also come to mind. I haven't been able to write about it, which is another oddity because I'm usually able to work through my thoughts better when I write them down.

Every week I feel differently about our future, and today I came to a completely new realization. I'm beginning to wonder if we (speaking generally of Christians) sometimes take church a little too seriously. By church I don't mean faith or God or our relationship with God. I'm talking about our relationships with each other. The first thing Jesus did in ministry was gather a group of friends around him. Would you consider the people in your church to be friends? You may worship with them and pray with them, but...

what else?

Do you hang out with them outside of church "meetings"?

Do you go to them for advice?

Do you eat together? laugh together? have fun together? do life together?

When I look at our church and a few others I've been a part of, I wonder if I struggle because it seems like all the fun has been taken out of it. We've created rules about what we should do when we hang out. We've decided that we need to be governed. We've gotten all beaurocratic about it and completely forgotten about the relationship aspect. It's like if I invited you over to my house one night and handed you a list of house rules and a program for the evening and told you to sit in uncomfortable chairs and we all sat around staring at each other and forgot how to talk.

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. But I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that at one time or another, most people have viewed church as a chore.

So what can we do to put the fun back into church?

Whatever Hippie Means

Due to the allowance of a particularly revolutionary and yet not so revolutionary book in my house (which I brought in myself, so no excuses here) I'm decided to reorient my personal time continuum with the divisions "BHA" and "AHA," or, "Before Hippie Amy" and "After Hippie Amy." Not because I recycle a lot more or try to hang dry my clothes as much as possible or wear dreads (cuz I don't actually wear dreads) but because I'm thinking a lot more about living in a commune these days, or at least something that looks more like a commune. What I mean is a commune that looks more like an Acts church where we share everything. Doesn't that make so much sense--economically, relationally, spiritually?

This irresistible book is called the Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. It took Shane's words to help me understand certain areas of the Bible that I've been ignoring. Maybe it's better to say I chose not to highlight those areas. I'd been hearing rave reviews for awhile, but the idea of reading it myself unnerved me a little. I knew it would be convicting and life changing. And it was true. And I'm not even finished with it yet.

Mostly it has me asking lot's of questions. Like, how can I implement Biblical ideas of communal sharing practically while living in a small town of northern California in the twenty-first century? Practically, what does that look like? I don't think I could take it so far as to share a house with people. Maybe if I was single, but not so much as a married person. But there are other ideas. Can it mean sharing household items with people in your neighborhood? Having a co-op type "store" in your church where people could leave things and borrow things? Forming a babysitting service and helping neighbors around the house with handyman stuff? Probably all of the above and whatever else God's blessed us with--including possessions, money, and time. Time. Now that's a challenge.

I guess what I'm asking is how can I be more generous? That'll be my new definition of hippie.

Not Just Another Hopeful Thought (I hope)

It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to continue living the way I have been cultured to live, and to continue to call myself a follower of Jesus.

I have begun to hear, as from a very muffled, fuzzy, static distance, the sound of weeping. I don't know who it is yet. My ears have only just begun to open after years of numbing deafness, and since I've only been tuned in to myself, it is probably my own whimpering I hear.

But the Grace in my faith acknowledges that Jesus promised his Spirit to be in us, and that he alone makes it possible for me to share in his pain--but that it is possible--to feel a tiny bit of his overwhelming lament for poverty, loneliness, consumerism, homelessness, hunger, etc. etc. etc.

If it isn't Jesus I hear, I pray that I will hear him soon, that my good intentions won't fossilize as intentions, but will germinate into practical action and I can be a useful part of the Body. That I won't be so selfish anymore. That my service could help to bring the Kingdom of God here, now, instead of my money used to continue to feed the American dream (even the Christianized version, which doesn't appear all that different sometimes...)

For the first time in my life (sad it's taken me this long), I think I've finally grasped the forever nature of eternity--it really is forever!-- in comparison with this temporary, dusty, earthly life. And for the first time, I think I've begun to sense the urgency of love in this life.

Honestly, I don't really know what's next. This is a new road for me. One that, God-willing, doesn't fulfill me, but empties me. I've been putting some thought into it. Will hopefully have a plan of action soon.

Funny about that word 'actor'

I can see this is becoming an unfortunate pattern--these few and infrequent blog posts of mine. When I had all the time in the world I would get frustrated when my favorite blogs went un-updated. The empty spaces loomed over me laughing, a symbol of what I didn't accomplish when I wasn't blogging. But now it's just a blog. I'd like to blog more, but there is life to live too. And I quite like life.



Thankfully my thoughts have not mimicked my blog these past few weeks. If you took a picture of them you would see something like a skillet of half-scrambled/half-cooked eggs with partly melted cheddar goo-ing through the mush. (Ah, the multi-functional Janzow cheesy eggs... good for high cholesterol, New Testament jokes and brain metaphors...) This is due in part to books, podcasts, discussions with friends and family (too many to list here) and in part to my own writing.

But probably what's cooked up the most is what I hope is righteous anger, not just narcissistic ranting, toward the topic of American Christians, especially leaders, lying by omission instead of speaking the hard truth. My mind was opened to this when I started listening to Mark Driscoll at Mars Hill Church. If you haven't heard of him, he's the main pastor at a church that started mid-90's in Seattle that has grown like crazy, mostly made up of Gen Xers and Yers and a lot of new Christians who I guess you would call hipsters (I dislike the buzz word, but I guess it's the best word to describe the people there). Driscoll is also one of the founders of Acts29, a church planting network.

Driscoll is pretty controversial and in the media often because he's not a pastor who speaks niceties and vague wishy washy faith to give the Christian public what they want to hear. He holds himself and the church accountable to handling sin, prayer, Bible study, finances, stewardship, leadership, community involvement, gender relationships, sex, etc. to God's standard. He even visits local coffee shops and restaurants around his church on Sunday afternoons and asks the managers if Mars Hill members tipped well after their meal. If they didn't, Driscoll takes out his wallet and pays the difference himself. But it's not a law based church. It's not a fire and brimstone church. It's a church motivated by God's love to glorify God in the way they live, and they're dedicated to holding each other accountable for it.

My point is not that Mark Driscoll is my new favorite Christian hero. My point is that recently I've heard of quite a few American churches with leaders who ignore the Spirit-driven courage to speak the difficult truth. Whether it's confronting a member or a staff member who is living in sin, or motivating a congregation to move outside the four walls of the church into the community, or teaching about God's standard for love, sex, marriage and gender roles within marriage, too often church leaders avoid the difficult parts of Scripture. And this is because we preach the Gospel (yes, this is the most important part--don't misread my theology) but then we stop there.

Lying by omission stalls the church and shuts our ears to God's desires. We do not lack motivation. Nothing is more motivating than knowing that God humbled himself to become one of us to save us when all we wanted was our own glory. But after a person sees how much they need God and gives their life to Christ, what comes next? How can you tell a new Christian he or she has to give up his un-married sex, his binge-drinking weekends, his selfish living without giving him anything to replace it?

The point to all of this: I believe the American Church is shrinking because we are not being given a mission. Maybe it's better to say that we are given a mission (especially if Christians are reading their Bible) but it's not taken seriously enough, and the Church is not teaching us how it can be accomplished practically. Or, we are not being held accountable to it.

The Church is begging for a call to action. We are the Church. What does the call look like for you and how can it be accomplished in your community?

Evangelical Crash

If you've ever met an evangelical...

If you call yourself an evangelical...

If you're a leader in a Christian church, ministry, school, or other organization...

Whoever you are...

You must--absolutely must--read this article.

I know, I know. So many of you are busy with jobs, with housework, with the Superbowl, but please. It only takes a few minutes to read an article that will keep you from being paralyzed like a deer in headlights by the advancing post-Christian world. It's called The Coming Evangelical Collapse. My mouth is still gaping and my heart sinking, but my reason can do nothing but nod in disbelieving agreement. It's already happening--in other countries first, and now I see it more steadily in the States.

I don't mean to be sensational or bullhorning doomsday. My only hope is that you'd read this article to make a resolve: to build your house on more than the shifting sand of church culture, church programs, political agendas and emotions. Now more than ever we can't debate, can't argue, but love: to build our daily principles on Scripture, join unshakeable communities of faith, reach out of ourselves with our actions (not just empty words) into our local neighborhoods, and of course pray that God's people would be made stronger through it--as God promises.

I would love to hear your comments after you read the article. Specifically:

1. Do you agree? Why or why not?
2. The author will have upcoming posts about what the crash will mean for our culture and the church at large specifically, but what do you think?
3. How do you see it happening already?
4. Is there hope in this?
5. How can we share hope with a post-Christian world when we look like the hateful, unloving ones? In other words, when we look like the problem?

Starbucks Sex

My maternal grandma went to Starbucks for the first time last weekend. Actually, it was the first time she's ever gone out just for coffee. She went because her daughters were visiting. They shared a pastry between the five of them. She had water.

My grandma didn't grow up "going to coffee." She grew up in a time when coffee wasn't a main event. Coffee was just a cup of hot, murky black liquid ("It tastes like a cup of crappy coffee." "No, it's the world's best cup of coffee!" Ah, I love the Elf...) The coffee's hotness factor was the best thing about it, not the triple shot skinny vanilla latte extras that we order today. But Starbucks is just one example of the way we've blinged up lives since my grandma's time. Our culture demands snazzy names, design, special effects to attract our attention. We've gradually added more thrill and excitement to our daily routine and we're addicted to it.

Like with sex. In Real Sex, Lauren F. Winner says that the reason sex is better in marriage is because it is solidarity and comfort, as opposed to the thrill of the unknown. "Sometimes premarital sex feels dramatic because, by definition, it is part of a relationship that is itself not wholly stable... Everything in your relationship gets some of its charge from the uncertainty, the unknown: put negatively, it gets its charge from the instability; put more generously, it gets its charge from the possibility. This may be the single most significant way that married sex differs from unmarried sex. Married sex does not derive its thrill from the possibility of the unknown. Married sex is a given. It is solemnized and marked in ritual."

Like me with church. I'm guilty of obsession with the false, with the facade, with the fun and not the commitment when it comes to church. A few weeks ago my husband told me I'd be going with the church staff to a Creative Church conference in Dallas. It sounded amazing. Creative. Church. Communicatons.--exactly what I love. When he told me later that the opportunity had been given to another staff member, I was devastated. Too devastated. The problem was I had bought into church the way the world buys into sex: I'll take the big productions, go to the motivational conferences that talk about the good we can do when we get back to our routine world--the polished, pretty part of faith. But when it comes to committing myself to the daily grind, to the loving by serving when it gets messy and deals with the real, the gritty life, that's not so thrilling.

I am a whore I do confess/I put you on just like a wedding dress/and I run down the aisle, run down the aisle/I'm a prodigal with no way home/I put you on just like a ring of gold/and I run down the aisle, run down the aisle, from you (From Derek Webb's song "Wedding Dress")

Bus Debates

We took this picture a few days before we left London. A large church in London called Holy Trinity Brompton started up a bus ad campaign for their Christian outreach class called Alpha. We went to the church a few times and heard countless stories about the global transformation the teaching program has had. Not many people in the U.S. have heard of Alpha, but considering how many lives it has changed, I was kind of excited to see the unconventional ads on the buses.


In response, the British Humanist Organization started up their own ad campaigns. They have every right to post their own ads about their beliefs. I respect their right to free speech. But more than anything the ads confuse me. It's a lot of money spent PRing for--who? Or even, what? Most ads feed on the promise of hope and betterment of our daily lives in some way. Who does this ad benefit? They're marketing meaninglessness as if it's a good thing. What's really interesting is that every other product in today's culture capitalizes on our egos to get the desirable impact. "Come on, buy a flatscreen. You deserve it!" "Go ahead, splurge on a new car. You're worth it!" Telling someone not to worry because there's not a God probably doesn't do a whole lot for people's self-esteem (in my opinion).

Regardless of the point of the campaign, I tend to agree with Steve Lawson about the method:



(Thanks to Tall Skinny Kiwi for the pictures)

Teachable

Jonathan loves the movie Miracle. He played hockey most of his childhood and teenage life, so there is an obvious connection to a movie about an Olympic hockey team. But it's more than that. As he was reminding me today, there's an interesting scene towards the beginning when the hockey coach shows up to tryouts to pick his team. After only fifteen minutes, the coach announces that he's already got the guys he wants. People are shocked. One coach reminds him that some of the prospective players haven't even showed up. But the coach is convinced he has his team. Why? Fifteen minutes was all he needed to see how teachable each player would be, and how they would work together as a team.

I always knew it was important to be a learner. But now, more than ever, I'm realizing how much more important it is that someone be willingly teachable, flexible, and pliable, rather than naturally gifted. Of course both are preferred, but here's the thing: even if a child has the potential to be an amazing basketball player, even if he has the natural gifts, he still needs someone to tell him how to shoot a basketball correctly. Or, let's say a basketball team has been playing with each other for three years, beginning their freshman year and working their way up to senior varsity team. A new coach comes on the scene. Partly because he's new and partly because he just has different ideas of how things are done, he starts introducing new drills, plays and techniques. Now, if the team isn't willing to accept his new ideas as good and implement them, if they aren't willing to give up ownership, they won't go very far. Some of them will probably listen to the coach and come of them won't. It'll be difficult to communicate. If they're not willing to learn, it'll be like trying to shoot a ball into a brick wall. Not only does it not go in a hoop and score a point, but it bounces right back atcha for a bruiser face. Not so much fun.

And sometimes that's how I feel.

Did I Say Dusty Boxes?

On August 23, 2006 I wrote one of my first blogs about our move to Reno for Jonathan's internship. Now I wonder what dust I could have possibly been talking about--because it definitely does not compare to the one year old dust from a month of earthquakes and shifting desert wind sliding underneath the door of our compact storage unit. We did our best to store almost everything in bins and two layers of bubble-wrap textured trash bags, but of course a bit seeped through. And now we have the fun job of attempting to unpack and de-dust without breathing in the dirt fumes. But I don't want to sound like a complainer, not after all the good God has done in our life to get us here to Lodi.

It was a long trek--began the day after the Huskers beat Baylor on a sunny red day in Lincoln. We drove from Omaha to Denver with my brother (he also met up with my two brothers in Nebraska to go to the game), spent the night in Denver and packed up a small truck, drove to Salt Lake, spent the night, drove to Reno (Fernley just outside Reno) and spent two nights with friends while we packed our storage unit into a bigger truck. Jonathan then had to drive a 26 footer over the Sierra Nevadas and into Sacramento traffic and rain, which took us four hours rather than 2 and a half. But we made it to Lodi safely the night of October 30th. And we were so thankful to have a place to live for a great price! The timing couldn't have been more perfect. A couple from our new church was renting out a townhouse and needed someone to move in by November 1st. One of Jonathan's fellow co-workers found out about it and took pictures for us, and we agreed to rent just a few days before we left Nebraska. We moved in Oct. 31st, and they were able to move into their new place too.

Our pastor recently told us that our new congregation is extremely rare--so much heart here and sensitivity to people's feelings that there's enough here to fill up other churches. We've already witnessed it. The day after we arrived, five guys from our church helped move us in. One of them is a professional mover, and things got situated into their proper rooms before I could even offer to help (I did try, but the professional mover told me to be the traffic cop). Someone else from church had even supplied dishwasher soap and toilet paper and dish towels and food and paper plates and lot's of other little things in our new place so we wouldn't be without anything while we unpacked. These people seem to go above and beyond--we're excited about getting to know everyone here.

After a year abroad and a quasi-relaxed month of visiting family and friends, it feels good to be sleeping in our own bed and to know that we can finally put down some roots. And the best news... Trader Joe's is only twelve minutes away from our townhouse!

A Short Commercial Break

I have a major in Theology. It's not something I tell everyone I meet--often I'll just tell them that I majored in English so as to avoid explaining that I haven't found a practical use for it yet and might not ever, but I wanted to do it just for the heckuvit. I was interested. Why not? (And maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had taken courses towards a Director of Christian Education certification and didn't want them to go to complete waste...)

But recently the theology topics make me tired. I've been reading a novel that's on the bestseller list, and in it a man encounters God in a slightly unconventional way--or rather, the God he meets is 'unconventional' as compared to our typical assumptions. I know I'm only in the first few pages, but eventually I had to set it down in favor of recreational blog scanning, despite what everyone has told me about the book's redemptive story. It's not that I have a problem with it like some people do (some people call it new age-ish and name a laundry list of other theological problems) but for me, as a reader and a writer, theological dialogue with no action gets to be overwhelming after awhile.

At first I felt guilty feeling like this. I thought maybe it's because I've left the building, so to speak. I admit I haven't been attending church on a regular basis this summer. I've left the so-called "Christian nation" if there is one. And I've been hanging out with a lot of people who are not self-professed Christians. But it's not that I'm tired of God--I think it's more that I'm just tired of talking and conversing and thinking and hemming and hawing about 'topics' and 'subjects' and 'doctrine' and things related to God, like he's a book or a philosophy to digest.

The only thing i can compare it to is a workday spent sitting in an office chair versus a day of hard, sweaty, manual labor.

And So It Goes

The title of a song I sang in high school choir. Don't remember the writer but it popped into my head as I thought about the changes coming up this year. Well, that and the fact that Jonathan's sitting next to me playing his guitar and singing about watching the tides roll by...and for the record, our apartment does not have a view of the Thames.

I didn't think we'd be returning to the States until at least a year had passed. But after a whirlwind interview process, we found out just a few days ago that Jonathan and I are being flown out to Lodi, CA June 25th-29th. Considering the timing, it's unfortunate that the church isn't located in St. Louis or we could also make it to my friend Becky's wedding (and actually meet her fiance for the first time, which would be nice). But the wedding and the miles between California and our family are seemingly the only downsides to the deal. Jonathan and I are already impressed with the church's attitude towards mission, community, service, worship, and team-based ministry.

We've already been to Lodi since we have friends that live (and lived) there. It's located in the central valley of Northern Cal about 45 minutes from Sacramento and an hour and a half to San Francisco. Our beloved Lake Tahoe is only 2 hours away, fabulous friends in Reno are 3 hours away, Napa is an hour, Yosemite is just up the State, and now we don't have to lament the fact that we didn't manage to fit in a trek on the Pacific Coast Highway when we lived in Reno.

But of course, now that "the end" of our adventure in London is in sight, I have inbetweeny discomfort--the kind of discomfort that Harry Potter feels when he uses the Floo Network and has his head in a fireplace in Hogwarts and the rest of him in the fireplace at the Weasley's. Or the weird squeezy space transportation that squishes Meg into A Wrinkle in Time.

Here? or There? I feel like I just started acclimating (hence my appropriate use of adjectives ending in "y" in the above paragraph, a cutesy British linguistic habit--i.e. squeezy honey, chewy chews, etc.) Most of the time I like it here and I don't want to leave. I love traveling. I love theatre. I love live music. I love English culture. I love my job. But then there are those times when I go out late at night and have to walk to a bus and deal with drunk, swearing Aussie's throwing food wrappers at me for an hour. . . That's when I want to be able to go back to stay out as late as I want and drive myself home, not rely on public transport. But then again, will I be able to afford to drive when I finally go back to the U.S. of A.'s current economic tragedy?

Here? or There? Eventually I'll be ready. But until then, I still have three months to savor Londony.

For All You Creative People Out There

On Saturday I went to a forum at our church for people in creative industries--musicians, architects, artists, writers, graphic designers, etc. Wow. Not only was it interesting, but I'm impressed with their resolve to help people figure out how their vocation and their faith work together.

It was put together by a comedy writer and an artist, both members of the larger church group we're in (called "Co-mission churches"), both people who decided that it was worth the effort to get up at an early hour on a Saturday morning, buy some croissants and fruit to share and plan a couple of talks and group discussions to get the church talking about what it means to pursue a "creative" vocation as it corresponds with our faith. Because it's no secret that for the last few hundred years and especially within the last fifty, evangelicals have spewed dragon fire on the idea of art in church, especially visual art, reviling it like a form of idolatry and excessive luxury. Modernism was all about the Word so while we did have literature and rhetoric, visual art wasn't considered worth our time or money like it was in the early ages of the Christian church. (Even then if it was included, it had to fit a certain "church" mode and follow specific "church" guidelines. If you couldn't do stained glass, your art would not be included in the canon of church beauty. If you didn't have magnificent wood working skills to carve an altar or pew out of the surrounding oak trees, then you were doomed to whittle away your time to secular causes. Because if it wasn't displayed in church, it wasn't worthy art.)

While I think that some churches today, especially the emerging churches, are doing a better job of encouraging drama and visual arts, people who desire to make a vocation out of their creativity still often feel the need to justify their choice. Why? Because we're not doctors or fireman, lawyers or policeman, professionals who make the survival of humankind possible. We're luxury. We're excessive. We're a vanity.

As our speaker pointed out, it's tempting to believe this lie because we have our priorities wrong. Somehow the evangelical church has gotten the idea into our heads that our main priority as Christians is to introduce people to the saving love of Christ. Evangelize evangelize evangelize. Well, surprisingly, it's not. Of course it's God's will that all of humanity will come to know him, but God put us on this earth for a greater purpose: to give him glory. To worship him as he made us to worship him: as humans. The act of creation is human, and there is no other reason we should have to give.

God made the world unnecessarily beautiful. Look at the thousands of birds in the world. Visit the Canadian Rockies. Get married and experience passionate sex the way God designed it to be.

Not only is our world beautiful, but so is His Word. The first words that Adam spoke after he saw his wife for the first time was not a theological sermon but a love poem. A simple love poem. The Bible is filled with poetry and metaphors and stories and parables and powerful symbols that point to what? God's unnecessarily beautiful love for us--the kind that never dies, no matter how often we hurt him.

I find it interesting that the first mention of a character in the Bible who is "filled with the Spirit of God" is an artist:

"The Lord said to Moses, 'See, I have called by name Bezalel the son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with ability and intelligence, with knowledge and all craftmanship, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold, silver, and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, to work in every craft."

Outer Walls

I'm constantly confused when I hear people's church stories. Some people have gone to church their whole life and never questioned it. Others were taken as children and hated it so much that when they went to college, gave it up completely. There are even people who sit in the pews week in and week out and would tell you that they don't believe in God anymore, but don't know how not to go to church. I wish the Barna Group could conduct a study to figure out what makes the difference. Unfortunately God made people with different personalities and experiences and I don't think we could pin it down to any one thing.

I'm not sure when it all started, but somewhere along my childhood-teenage path I started viewing church differently. Church wasn't only about eating Cheerios and drawing on children's bulletins while the pastor rambled on at the front. Church wasn't just the place my brothers and I got in trouble for talking and had to suffer Dad's knee squeezes and stare-downs. There was even more to it than that.

I'm convinced that my first impressions of church were a result of my parent's decision to join a "Share Group." The Share Group had Bible studies and social events and even played in a volleyball league. The best part was that they brought the kids along. We got to go on camping trips in the beautiful Colorado mountains and eat good food together and make lots of friends.

Since we attended a large church, having a Share Group meant that we belonged. Here was a group of people that not only believed in the same God but would talk about it in everyday language as if it really mattered. It was worth getting together for it and discussing it. It wasn't just a lazy tradition. It wasn't just words on a page or a liturgy or sermon or hymn or praise song. It was THE thing of life. By joining a Share Group my parents helped teach me that people form the outer walls of our faith, protecting it and keeping watch over it, no matter how dark and scary and turbulent it gets at night.

I remember feeling so secure during that phase of our life.

Sometimes I worry that the buzz phrase "personal relationship with Jesus Christ" has tainted our view of our church body. Of course we do need to know Jesus personally, but that's not where it ends. Our faith is not meant to be hoarded, but to be an extension of Him.

Maybe finding the balance is what makes the difference?

To Be or to Do?

I was praying in the car this morning when I had a revelation: I spend too much time worrying about what I do when I should be concerned about who I be.

Lesson in Theology from Shakespeare #1: to do is not even the question. (Hamlet. . . a Lutheran?)

Then I realized that Paul cares alot about the doing:

"I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. No if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. . . For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me" (Romans 7:16-20).

Hamlet and Paul should really get together for a debate. Until then, I might just have to convert to Shakespearian.

Why Use Up the Ground?

the concept of church has confounded me now for some time, and it seems i'm not the only one. it's the topic of many conversations, especially among Concordia college friends. is it because church is the most misunderstood aspect of the Christian faith? or is there another aspect of Christianity that is misunderstood more frequently than church? i doubt it. besides the fact that church is considered to be bound within 4 walls, there are plenty of other misconceptions, such as the congregation's absurdly heavy reliance on the pastor. rather than a spiritual leader, a pastor becomes an enabler. the top-down authority is a common perspective among Christians.

i brought this up to this morning's women's Bible study group (made of women ages 40-60--I'm the youngest). the question was regarding Berea, a church in Acts. as knowledgable people, the Bereans examined Paul's teaching against their own knowledge of Scripture to make sure he knew what he was talking about. the question was asked: why was it important that the Berean's were choosey about their intake of information? how is their response to Paul an example to us? I mentioned the fact that it's important we all take ownership of our faith, rather than leave it up to a leader to tell us what to believe. the fact is, leaders/pastors/theological buffs are human. Scripture is not. it is divinely inspired and should be a daily portion of every believer's life. i explained that i became frustrated when at Bible study, our friends often "jokingly" turn down jonathan's request for them to pray for the study--for food, or for closing, whatever. it becomes a five-minute discussion because they'd rather jonathan do it. it's the same thing at many social gatherings where a pastor is present, or for that matter, a church leader is present. who is asked to pray? it's rarely laity. and yet, the priesthood of ALL believers is a core belief of the Christian faith.

the response i received in the women's Bible study really irked me, i'm not gonna lie. one of the women (a good friend of mine, i might add) said "but we all have different talents."

i couldn't even respond. it's not that i don't believe different people have different gifts. some people have the gift of intercession and some don't. but this does not concern the gift of intercession. this is regular, standard prayer we're talking about--and prayer is SO vital to a Christian's walk with God. i wonder--how often do lay Christians pray in their home? with their children? with their spouse? how important is Scripture study/memorization to all of us "regular people" in the church?

we had some interesting passages in church today that i don't think i've noticed before. luke 13:7 is a parable of Jesus: "Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?"

and so i have to ask myself if i am merely a consumer like the fig tree. am i using up ground worthlessly, producing no fruit? is consumerism the only art the church has perfected today? i truly believe that the fruit God is waiting to receive is what he has created us for. he has given each of us gifts, and when we are released to do what we were created to do, to love, to make music, to tell jokes, to serve, to design, etc., when we do it all for him, it will be the fruit he is looking for. but if we sit back and let those gifts go because we'd rather have the "professional" do it, then the church is missing out on the perfect plan God had for us. we all have great things to contribute and should never diminish our purpose.

Mystery

Quite frankly, it's very obvious to me that music is an ethereal spiritual mystery that we'll never completely grasp.

i'm sucking Spanish wine at the moment I write these words. Take it as a disclaimer to this post, or just keep it in mind as you read, if you'd like. Either way, I suppose I'm purposely writing at this moment to avoid witholding important information from you. After re-reading my last post, i realize I didn't quite clarify my very strong feelings about musical styles in worship. I realize I said generational worship is very important, and yes, I do believe it wholeheartedly. At the same time, I think it's vital we consider the powerful emotional, scientific power of music.

I'm despising church these days. I hate going. Thursday night Bible study--awesome. Sunday morning Bible study with women ten-thirty years older than me--wonderful. But i can't handle the same old same old services. I have nothing against "traditional" music. I think it's exactly what alot of people need--alot of people connect with. But I don't relate. Alot of kids don't relate. And i was reminded of that tonight when parents expressed a deep sorrow to me that our older church members don't realize how quickly they are losing the youth. It pains me to realize that no one wants to make the effort to change that. Such a simple thing--such a simple problem. And I realize there's only a certain amount of effort we should put towards catering to individuals. It's a hard balance. But still, how much are we causing their need, and how much does their need just naturally exist?

We Are Family

I went to a beautiful wedding last night. Of course the decorations were elegant and the food was delicious. The bride and groom were handsome and extremely gracious hosts. But really, those details aren't what made it meaningful. Instead, it had everything to do with the cohesion of family in the room.

Two sets of grandparents were there, and each had been married for about 60 years. In fact, 60 years prior to last night, the bride's grandparents had met on their first date in the same exact room the reception was held. Most appropriately, the groom's father gave his toast as a recognition of the blending of two families--two families that shared the same, deep faith in Christ. Together, they created a strong foundation for the new couple's marriage. When the dancing began, the floor breathed with an air of familiarity, comfort, easy laughter, and lightness. As a friend of the couple, I felt privileged to be a part of it.

I can't help but compare that wedding to a conversation I had about the importance of a generationally diverse church. Most people who know me know my passion for what's termed "contemporary" music. As a side note, I hate the term. What's termed "traditional" music still exists in churches today which makes it just as contemporary as what we also call "praise" music. The only reason I use the accepted terms is because I haven't thought of anything better. Still working on that.

So about this "contemporary" music. It's true that I connect with it better than I do with organ liturgies. As a result of my church background i've worshipped often with both, and therefore have great respect for both, but I've wondered recently--am I limiting my community by having a preference of music? If I choose to attend services that cater to people my age (and yes, I realize that some senior citizens enjoy contemporary music, but they're the exception) then I'm limiting my connection to those older than me. The opportunity for relationships dwindles to a very small group of peers, and I find that a dimension of my life is gravely missing. It's the same dimension that I noticed when I graduated college and left my residence in my grandparent's basement. Suddenly, I didn't have upstairs access to their lifelong wisdom. No longer could I bond over soup and salad on their sun porch. My grandma's stained glass art and my grandpa's stained wood projects couldn't entice my imagination on a regular basis.

The design of a family is miraculous in many ways. It's a cocoon in which we can be nurtured in safety and love, prepared to go out into the big, wide world of scary people. We grow because we have parents who have lived in that world, who know what it's like, and therefore, (no matter how much we deny it) know better than us. If we're blessed with siblings, we learn how to get along, how to be generous and giving, how to sacrifice, and how to play with people closer to our age. The church is the same way. What would happen if we continued to have age-divided services? Youth and twentysomething services are spreading rapidly. Children attend "Children's Church" in the middle of the service in some churches. Senior citizens have their traditional services and some attend contemporary.

I have a grave premonition that in the near future, or maybe later than better, we'll realize our mistakes. Then again, maybe I'm wrong. It's happened before.

Speaking of Boxes. . .

I'm sitting in my apartment surrounded by piles of boxes and wow. It makes me happy to be moving! We're finally doing it. Nothing major, of course, just to a new apartment, but it's completely worth it. Yesterday a friend got really excited for me and told me how much he loves moving. He went on and on about the joys of re-arranging furniture and his smile got bigger and bigger--well, I did get a little concerned about him but then I laughed. I agree with him. The actual task of packing and taping boxes and moving heavy objects (like our piano, which will be moved from the second floor down precarious cement steps. . .) is somewhat daunting, but the after effect will be lovely. It's necessary to get a new start with new walls and new organization. It's also extremely cleansing.

Speaking of moving, here's a question: how often does the organization of church need to be re-evaluated? I've been struggling with the design of church services for awhile now. When Scripture doesn't explicitly lay out commands about something or other, like what a worship gathering should look like, I think it's natural to question our methods. I think it's necessary to get in Scripture and re-evaluate. So, how often do we need to "move" our churches, so to speak, and start over with a fresh beginning?

For example, I know many church-goers who enter church doors and never speak a word to anyone. I also know many church-goers who have left because of it. We acknowlege in our doctrine that community is important, but do our services, programs, and overall Christian love and friendliness convey our beliefs? In my devotional this morning I read "Forgive all my sins and graciously receive me, so that I may offer you the sacrifice of praise" (Hosea 14:1-2). I thought and prayed very seriously about that verse, and Romans 12:12-2 came to mind about offering our bodies as living sacrifices. Our bodies praise God. Our lives praise God. But when we come together on a Sunday morning, that should be a culmination of our sacrificing. And a sacrifice should be painful in a good way. We're giving something up for God to honor him. What do we give up on Sunday but an hour of our time? Is the worship gathering organized in such a way that we are required to give our all? And there's then the ever pressing belief about Christ living in all of us Christians, not just the Pastor or leaders. Do we enable ourselves to believe in the authority Christ promises us, or do we leave all the "good works" up the our ordained professionals?

Honestly, I don't have answers, just questions. But I read a book awhile ago I'll recommend for your reading list: The Millenium Matrix by M. Rex Miller. It's a good one.