Who knew I liked reading fiction?

A couple of weeks ago I started reading . . . a fiction book!

I haven’t read a fiction book since just before the Lord of the Rings movies came out and I reread the trilogy.  In general, I read non-fiction stuff.  I read mostly books and blogs about the church and postmodern culture, Henri Nouwen stuff, and some theology thrown in there.  When I read those books I tend to skip around and read the chapters that look interesting to me.  I usually have at least 4 or 5 these books that I’m reading through at a time bouncing between the chapters I want to read next.

This is fine when reading books that serve as “reference” but it doesn’t work with fiction.  I have this bad habit of starting a novel only to read the last chapter out of curiosity (like a would a book about church stuff) and then totally lose interest in reading the rest of the book.  Or maybe I’ve already seen the movie(s) like with Harry Potter.  This feels like watching a football game you’ve recorded and already know the score. I have no desire.

All of this has changed.  A few weeks ago I started reading a book where I didn’t know the ending.  I have refused to let myself read ahead or look online for spoilers.  The book:  The Hunger Games.  In the past 2 weeks I have read . . . and enjoyed it.  I’m halfway through the last book (no spoilers please). I’ve read more fiction in the last 2 weeks than I have read in the last several years.

Another factor is Kindle.  I’ve been reading the books on my iPhone and Angeline’s iPad.  I think I actually like having access to it whenever I want.  That doesn’t mean I’m burning all of my paper books, just that I’ve really enjoyed the digital format.  I’m considering actually getting a Kindle device (the cheapest one).

This sounds silly, but I’ve realized that I like reading again.  I’m looking forward to finishing this book and starting another.  I know … it’s crazy!  Right now I’m thinking about getting into Jules Verne’s The Mysterious Island.  I’m open to suggestions, but remember if the book you suggest gets chosen and it makes me quit reading again, you’ll be to blame.

I’m hoping to blog about the Hunger Games books once I finish.

Epic Fail Pastors Conference

Last year I saw some info on this conference: The Epic Fail Pastors Conference.  Most pastors conferences are a place for people who really seem to have everything figured out to go and tell the rest of us how they did it.  The hope is that the “unsuccessful” pastors can become successful by following their examples.  I’ve enjoyed going to a couple but to be honest I’m  often left feeling jealous (just being honest).  I’m also left questioning how the Church should define success.  What if we arent all supposed to be “successful” like that?  What if “failure” is a part of the journey? What if we can actually learn from that failure and are meant to share them with others?  I absolutely love the idea of a conference for real people who are called to be pastors.

It was birthed when J.R. Briggs and a couple of pastors got together and asked some good questions:

• What if we offered a space that is gutsy, hopeful, and courageously vulnerable for pastors to let go of the burden to be a Super Pastor?

• What if we could hold an event that was free from the thrills and frills of other pastors conferences?

•What if we had a conference that was led not by famous pastors who are household names, but by scandalously ordinary ministers and leaders who are faithfully attempting to join with God – even in the midst of glaring obscurity and anonymity?

I really wanted to attend last year but couldn’t swing it schedule-wise.  This year I really want to go but I’m not sure if I can swing it financial-wise.  It’s pretty inexpensive ($89 plus food/travel/lodging) so I’m hoping to see if I can scare up the funds [perhaps God is leading you to sponsor someone? ;) ]

This year it will be in Mansfield, OH (near Columbus).  Check out the website and forward it to someone you know who might need a space like this.

 

… we will meet in March not to gripe, moan, complain or whine. We will come together because we’re convinced of hope. Hope that in the midst of our seemingly failed situations, God is still up to something. He’s not done with His Church. He’s not done with His children. And, no, He’s not done with these broken men and women He has called to be ministers of the gospel message that declares, with confidence, that despite our brokenness and frailty that God’s love still invites us in to participate in His Bigger Story.

Discerning the Noise

People like to make noise.  What’s the difference between noise and noisy?

• A symphony at a concert hall creates a lot of noise.  Soaring crescendos, crashing percussion and soul inspiring melodies.
• College football games can be noisy.  Cheering, screaming, booing (and that’s just the men’s room).

• A new born baby can make some noise.  That sweet tiny cry that reminds everyone how vulnerable this miracle of life really is.
• Two 8 yr old boys in the car port at my house with light sabers after a day at school … just plain noisy.

Noise can be good depending on what is making the noise.  Noisy things are irritating and distracting.  Church people are good at making noise (Pentecostals are exceptional at making a lot of noise).  Sometimes the Church makes noise and sometimes we’re just being noisy.

There’s this passage we read with our small group this past week:

And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the LORD, because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid. But many of the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this temple being laid, while many others shouted for joy. No one could distinguish the sound of the shouts of joy from the sound of weeping, because the people made so much noise. And the sound was heard far away. – Ezra 3:11-13

This passage really made an impact on me.  We talked about how it can be interpreted at least two ways.

1 – It was a symphony of noise.  It’s the celebration of the exiles who have just returned home and already see the first fruits of God’s restoration.  They are finally home and able to begin worship at the temple.  This is coupled by the tears of those who remember the previous temple.  It’s bitter sweet for them as they now collectively remember all that they have been through from destruction and exile to redemption.  Their sound was a beautiful noise of hope and healing.

OR

2 – It was really noisy.  While some chose to celebrate the new temple and their new life restored by God’s faithfulness, others chose to live in painful memories.  Some shouted with joy hoping to push forward to the future God has planned for them, while others refused to move past the hurt and longed for the past.  The sound was a noisy mess of optimistic exuberance and painful nostalgia.

In the first option, we see a community that makes room for both joy and sorrow, shouting and weeping.  A community that pushes forward with new things but allows for the past to be heard.  These returned exiles would never have known how to perform the offerings and sacrifices we find earlier in the chapter if it weren’t for the “older voices” teaching them their family traditions.  These older exiles may not be able to experience the healing they need if it weren’t for celebrations of joy and excitement that this new generation offers.

In the second option, we find optimism and hope but it is interrupted by a pain and sorrow that refuse to be forgotten or ignored.  The celebration becomes an argument.  As one generation refuses to yield to another.

I really want to believe that we only have communities today that exist in option #1.  But reality (and experience) says that we have plenty of #2.  Nostalgia can be a dangerous thing.  It causes good things to look even better and bad things to feel even worse.  Some memories refuse to be dealt with in a healthy way.  They insist on weeping at our birthday parties, complaining during brainstorming sessions, and turning our joyful noise into a noisy mess.

The passage mentions that no one could distinguish between the joy and the weeping because it was so loud and that the sound was heard from far away.  I think we have to be mindful of what is being heard from far away.  We have to discern for ourselves if we’re making noise or being noisy.

When those from far away come to hear and see for themselves, will they find a symphony of hope and healing or will they hear us arguing about how things will never be as good as they used to be?

Let Cyrus Speak

This post has nothing to do with Miley Cyrus the Disney star. (pictured left)

It’s about the Persian King, Cyrus the Great. (pictured right)

My small group from church recently began a study on the book of Ezra. We originally chose the book of Ezra because no one in our group had done a specific study of the book. I’ve done some research on the book of Nehemiah which is linked to Ezra (their stories overlap) so I was curious to explore Ezra.

Ezra and Nehemiah tell the story of the Jewish people returning to Jerusalem and Judah after being exiled to Babylon. While in exile, Persia takes over Babylon and the new Persian king is tolerant of other religions. He allows the Jews to go home. Ezra is a priest and Nehemiah an official in the King’s court. The two play a prominent role in helping to restore the city of Jerusalem, the temple and the identity of the Jewish people.

But in the very first chapter of Ezra we get a decree from King Cyrus and we realize that he plays no small part in this story. It is this Persian who prophetically calls forth the nation of Israel to return to their home and rebuild it.

I think we often overlook the fact that in this redemptive store, God uses an “outsider” to speak and accomplish his purposes. It was God that chose to use a foreign nation to bring judgment through the exile and now God chooses to use this foreign king to call them home. Yes God was speaking to Isaiah and Amos and Jeremiah and Ezekiel (and probably others I can’t recall) about the exile and their return. But none of those people could issue the decree or the command that actually made it happen.

Some questions that came out of our discussion:

1 – Does God still speak to us through “outsiders”? Is it possible that God could speak and work through someone that we have labeled anti-God or even anti-Christ? Someone who is perhaps quite foreign from our own circles. Maybe an “unsaved” boss, a worldly musician or even a democratic president?

2 – What if we’re just so focused on our little bubble that we aren’t hearing the decrees being spoken over us from outside? Many in the Christian circles I find myself in are hoping for some prophetic utterance or divine decree from a recognized “Man of God”. Someone who is officially sanctioned by the church as acceptable. Maybe they’ve seen them on TV or a book or at a prophecy conference or camp-meeting (special church service). What if we aren’t listening to the right radio station? What if Cyrus has already said to go but we refuse to listen because Cyrus is a different denomination, ethnicity, political party or gender than we wanted or expected?

3 – Perhaps it doesn’t matter what Cyrus’ motivation is, it can still be God.. Some commentators share that Cyrus’ decree is a selfish one. He realizes that politically it behooves him to “keep the natives happy” by allowing them their religion. I don’t think it matters what his intention was. God’s intention was to use him as a divine tool. Who cares what the hammer was thinking? The carpenter uses it however he/she chooses. This opens up all sorts of people to be used by God: film directors, actors, musicians, politicians, athletes, prostitutes,  maybe even Glenn Beck … ok not Glenn Beck … but you get the point.

We are so quick to judge things as “for or against” us so that we can quickly accept or dismiss them. We forget that what someone else may have meant for evil God may have meant for good. Furthermore, I wonder if sometimes we refuse to receive something we actually discern to be good because it came from the “wrong kind of person”.

We not only refuse to hear Cyrus, we launch a campaign to enact legislation that would forbid him from speaking.

I say, let Cyrus speak, both the Persian and the Disney star.

Finding Solitude

Are you tired of me posting things from Henri Nouwen …?

… Too bad.

Loved this devotional from Bread for the Journey on the difference between loneliness and solitude. The last few months I have really begun to enjoy the presence of God I have found in solitude.

I agree that “loneliness” actually keeps us from having the relationships we long to have. It creates a desperateness that drives others away.

All human beings are alone. No other person will completely feel like we do, think like we do, act like we do. Each of us is unique, and our aloneness is the other side of our uniqueness. The question is whether we let our aloneness become loneliness or whether we allow it to lead us into solitude.

Loneliness is painful;
solitude is peaceful.

Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation;
solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community.

Letting our aloneness grow into solitude and not into loneliness is a lifelong struggle.

It requires conscious choices about whom to be with, what to study, how to pray, and when to ask for counsel. But wise choices will help us to find the solitude where our hearts can grow in love.

Explaining Jokes

I was reminded today of one of my pet peeves:

People who explain your jokes to you.

I was walking out of McDonald’s today and saw a guy leave a birthday party in the kids’ play area (aka bacteria heaven – don’t get me started).  He was loaded down with pink gift bags, Dora the Explorer merchandising and a leopard print child’s purse.  I don’t often initiate conversation with strangers in public places but I couldn’t resist.

Me:  Oh, is today your birthday?
Guy: Uh…oh NO, it’s my youngest daughter, she just turned 4 and we had a birthday party for her.
Me: Yeah, I figured (pointed to his bags).
Guy: Oh…yeah, hey … that’s funny. Yeah, that’s funny cause I’m carrying this pink girly stuff and everything. (he laughs and turns to wife), Hey, he just asked if it was MY birthday cause I’m carryin’ all of this.”
Me: (thinking to myself – yes, I know why it’s funny, I’m the one who told you)

I realize I have some things in common with Michael Scott (not as many things as my student workers used to think).  I fancy myself a workplace comedian. I’m not really a funny on the spot kind of guy, but I do okay with situational comedy (at least I think I do).  I’m a fan of the art of comedy.  Timing is everything.  Explaining someone’s joke totally breaks the timing in a situational comedy setting.  You don’t need to stop the rhythm of conversation to tell everyone it’s okay laugh.  It’s like the lead car in a race slamming on the breaks to tell everyone it’s okay to go fast.  In both cases everyone was already doing it … except you …and because of you, now none of us are.

I used to work with this lady a while back who would explain my jokes to me and my co-workers.  She was a workplace comedian’s nightmare.  She would get the joke about 5 seconds too late and would then explain to others why it was funny.  By the time her lengthy explanation was over, everyone had awkwardly moved on.

There are two occasions when it is okay to explain someone’s joke:

1 – The joke was about you and you’re only rebuttal is to sarcastically explain the joke to others as a way of showing how “not funny” it was. i.e. “Oh yeah that’s funny because I’m fat and you called me Fat Mike. That’s a great joke, can I use that sometime?”

2 – It’s a part of your schtick (comedic persona) and you explain jokes (yours and others) as way of self-deprecating. i.e. no one laughed at your joke so you’re only save is to humorously explain the obviously not funny joke.

Other than that, just let it be.  Hey, we’ve all been slow on the take before.  We got a  joke after the fact, no big deal.  Just laugh it off even if you don’t know why.  Explaining the joke to others only draws attention to the fact you didn’t get it the first time.

End scene.

Things we say but don’t mean

I was thinking about how many things we say to each other but don’t really mean or believe.

There’s the obvious ones like, “bless your heart” or “aren’t you precious?” We all know those actually mean something quite different. Some other obvious ones are “How are you?” and it’s partner “I’m doing fine.” Again … this does not actually mean what the words say. It’s become a salutation, a way of greeting someone.

Some people respond to what you’re saying with “awesome” or “cool”. These are false on two levels. 1 – most likely the person doesn’t really think what you said is “awe inspiring” nor does it change their temperature. 2 – even within the idiomatic meaning of these words, we just say them as a positive affirmation, in other words, “hey, I heard you and I don’t hate that.”

Christians incorporate all kinds of sayings that we don’t usually mean. They have good intentions and are well meaning but not always truthful. Let’s be honest, of the 1 million times you have told someone you would “pray for them” or “pray about” a situation, did you literally pray every single time? Like I said, it’s well meaning, and your intention was really, “I’ll be thinking about you” or “my heart goes with you” and sometimes you actually did feel led to say a prayer for someone. Mostly, though, it’s an expression used to show warmth and concern.

Here’s a big one pastor’s say (and the one that sparked this blog post), “everyone is a minister whether you’re a plumber or a preacher” or maybe “everyone has a ministry even if you never get behind a pulpit”. I think we mean this in principle. We believe it as an abstract ideal and as a spiritual truth but I’m not sure if we let it sink into reality.

I’ve been thinking about this idea and then read Jonathan Stone’s blog and it pushed me to think a bit more about it.

Many pastors can say that “everyone is a minister” without ever knowing what that really means. Most pastors will always be pastors. Some have always been pastors and a lot of the ones who are bi-vocational (working two jobs) are hoping to be “full-time” one day. Many of the pastors who had a first career, (pre-ministry) will not go back to that “secular” career. Why you ask?

It would be seen by many as going backward. There’s this status that comes with being a pastor.

I wonder how many actually believe that the Christian electrician or bank teller are of the same status as the senior pastor? Oh, they say it, but do they actually believe it? How many pastors would really trade places with a bank teller? What would happen if they had to do it?

I know several “former professionals” pastors who now work outside the pulpit (including myself). I think it is a real challenge to hold all of these things in tension. I know some who enjoy having a little more freedom while others can’t wait to do “real ministry” again.

So then how do pastors equip their members to be ministers in their context, if most are only successful at ministering as professional clergy?

And if someone becomes really successful at non-pulpit ministry, should we remove them from it to make them “full-time” at the church?

We do need pastors. But we also need people who don’t live and work in the Christian bubble.

With the direction things seem to be headed (the Church in Post-Christendom), I wonder if we’re preparing pastors to exist in this tension? Are we setting the expectation that “success” means “full-time ministry”?

Most of the young ministers that I see are being trained to be traditional “full-time” pastors not postmodern missionaries who may not be paid to do their ministry.

**stepping down from my soapbox**