Scattered Thoughts in the Midst of Our Chaos

Let me start by saying that I find conversations about the intersection of race and society fascinating, but rarely do I say anything in public because, well, I am the face of privilege.  I am a white, male, married, Christian, son of two educated people.  I may not have started the race in the front row, but I am not very far back.  And because of the situation I was born into, I have an incredibly difficult time imagining what life is like for someone like Michael Brown or Eric Garner.  I have never believed that the police would treat me unfairly, and even when I have broken the law, never once have I feared for my life.

But, if we are to believe the shared experiences of our brothers and sisters of color, that is the reality for nearly all of them living in this country.  In seminary I remember my friend Vincent telling me that if he dressed the way I did (hooded sweat shirt, blue jeans, and a Cincinnati Reds hat) and walked through a parking lot, he would hear car doors lock as he walked by, and the minute he entered the mall, security would be keeping an eye on him.  I told him that I didn't believe him and when he exagerates he loses his credibility.  But then Marty and John and Deion started telling their own stories of similar events where they were stopped by the police because they "looked suspicious" and followed around stores because they "looked like they were gonna steal something."  One of them told the story of spending the night in a holding cell after jay-walking.

I simply cannot understand the world that people of color occupy, because even though we may be neighbors, the way society interacts with us is fundamentally different.  I cannot understand how the events in Ferguson led to Michael Brown's death, because that would never happen in the world of privilege.  

One time, in college, when I was selling security systems door-to-door in a secluded, wealthy community, I was stopped by the police for "looking suspicious," and in fairness, I did look suspicious.  But the policeman never raised his voice, he never acted in a way that was threatening; he simply pulled beside me, rolled down his window and asked what I was doing.  He was satisfied with my answer and drove away.  When I think back on that interaction, I thank God that I am white.  

Had I been black, I very likely could have found myself cuffed and sitting in the grass (a recurring theme I hear in stories) while the officer ran my information through the computer, called my supervisor, and made sure I was doing what I said I was doing. 

The more stories I hear coming out of the black community, the more convinced I am that in these most recent non-indictments and in the many that preceded them. our system is failing at the most fundamental level to uphold due process.  

The most fundamental piece of due process is that those with power should not have the advantage over those without it.  For example, the Heisman trophy winning quarterback at your college shouldn't be protected when they violate the rights of an ordinary student.  Rather, in order for the justice system to work (at any level) we must error on the side of the powerless.  This doesn't mean that the powerful are always found to be in the wrong or that they are always convicted, however, it should mean that the victim who is harmed at the hands of the powerful is given every opportunity to seek and receive justice.

When a policeman kills a black child or when a politician is accused of abusing his intern or when a clergy-person is accused of embezzling money from the offering plate they must endure the greatest levels of scrutiny, or the process doesn't work.  If we don't indict the policeman or investigate the pastor, then we are allowing their privilege to short-circuit the system.  And as Christians, we must error on the side of the powerless.  

Now, I wasn't there when Wilson shot Brown.  I wasn't there when the Beavercreek PD shot Crawford.  I wasn't there when Damico choked out Garner.  And I wasn't there when the Cleveland cops shot Rice.  I don't know the totality of training, policy, and mindset that led to the actions taken by law enforcement officials which resulted in the death of four, unarmed black men.  I don't know what previous events led the officers to believe that they were doing the right thing.  And because the grand juries erred on the side of the powerful, none of us ever will.  

Vision starts with 'Why'

Every church I have ever been a part of has a mission statement.  At Marysville, our mission statement was, "To build and be the body of Christ."  At Trinity Evangelical it was, "To know Christ and make him known."  At Kansas and St. Paul's we used the standard UMC statement, "To make disciples for the transformation of the World" and now at Sulphur Grove, our mission statement is, "to grow disciples, to live and share God's love."

And all of these are noble statements of purpose, describing what we do; however, mission statements fail to build robust consensus for the same reason that most fail to serve as a north star for determining the direction of an organization.  Mission statements fail, all to often, because they vaguely describe what we do, but they do not describe why we do it.

Here recently, in an attempt to guard against breaking my four month old son, I have found myself reading books related to neuroscience and human personality.  And the consensus of the scientific community (as it relates to human interaction) is that our brains do not operate as a single functioning unit, but rather that our pre-frontal cortex (PFC) is the emoting desire center of the brain, while the frontal cortex (FC) is responsible for higher functions like language and reasoning.  The PFC is hard-wired to survive by releasing positive emotion chemicals when we are interacting with people who talk like us, walk like us, believe like us, look like us, etc.  If you are like me, and grew up in a community with very little diversity, and couldn't understand why your minority best friend in elementary school spent less time with you and more time with other minorities when you got to high school where there were other minorities, this is one reason why.  Our brains are hard wired to seek out sameness as a survival tactic.  So while reason (done in the FC) might tell us that our shared history is what is truly important, and we should still be the best of friends, the overwhelming chemical response put out by our PFC means that, in most cases, our friend if given the opportunity to be friends with others who look more like her, sound more like her, believe more like her, etcetera--she will take it.  Now, this is a general idea that requires much greater nuance in the real world, and no situation can be seen as strictly determined by brain chemistry.  The intersection of nature and nurture can lead to a plethora of outcomes; but, in general, scientists agree that the way our PFC works is to draw us in to people who look like us, believe like us, and talk like us.  We want to agree with those who our PFC tells us are our kind of people.

So what does this mean for vision casting?

If you want to build consensus, if you want the vision to be communicated powerfully, it all comes back to the community's shared belief.  Don't tell me the things that you do, tell me the belief that explains why you do it.  So your mission is to make disciples, that's nice.  Why?  What is so great about disciples?  We have these mission statements that are so obtuse and so dependent upon everyone who hears them making the right assumptions about our motivating beliefs that they have no real meaning outside of the mental exercises performed by our frontal cortex.

If you want to powerfully cast the vision for God's preferred future, speak to the heart (or at least the pre-frontal cortex).  Don't tell me what you are going to do or how you are going to do it, tell me why!

Here is an example of how umc.org describes itself:

We are the United Methodist Church.  We make disciples for the transformation of the world.
We have 12.5 million members who are committed to being a global, connectional, inclusive, scriptural, wesleyan, missional, ecumenical, socially just church.

Not very inspiring is it...

But here is how we might better cast the vision for what it is to be United Methodist:

We believe that knowing Christ and being filled with the Holy Spirit transforms individuals, families, communities and our world.
There are 12.5 million of us who are committed to being global, connectional, inclusive, scriptural, wesleyan, missional, ecumencial, and socially just.
We make disciples for the transformation of the world.  We are the United Methodist Church.

What do you think?  Do you respond to the second vision for United Methodism more strongly than the first?


For a more detailed look at this idea, read Simon Sinek's, Start with Why.

The Cost of Faking Extroversion

This past week, I began reading Susan Cain's Quiet.  It is an exploration of the ways that introverts can succeed in an extroverted world by embracing their introversion.  As a life-long introvert that has spent most of his life trying to approximate extroversion, I have found her writing to be a cool drink of life giving water, and when I finish the book, I will likely review it.

In an early chapter, she talks about Tony Robbins, the self-help guru who as Jack Black famously quipped while shaking his hand, "it's like shaking a bunch of bananas" and she writes that "[Tony] told us at the start of the seminar, 'You don't have to be an extrovert to feel alive...' But it seems, according to Tony, that you'd better act like one if you don't want to flub the sales call and watch your family die like pigs in hell" (39).

Since reading this, I have been reflecting on my own struggle with faking extroversion and I would like to share with you some of my thoughts.

Thought 1: Faking extroversion made dating incredibly painful

The other night, I was talking with Cindy and I shared with her that one of the reasons I love her and wanted to marry her was that she was the first non-family member that I could embrace introversion in front of without the fear that she wouldn't like me anymore.  The reality is that few things suck more for (most) introverts than dating.  Consider the expectations given to us by Hollywood for what dating should look like: A charming, flirtatious hunk uses his best line on a beautiful, clever woman who knows how to deflect the first line in such a way that he comes back with a new one.  Eventually, (some times in as short as 5 minutes) the magnetic, outgoing man and the clever, confident woman are overwhelmed with their interpersonal energy and bada bing, bada boom=love.  If you don't believe me, I challenge you to find a romanticish movie where the male protagonist is an introvert (hint: I can only name two).

So for those of us who find playful, flirtatious banter exhausting, these expectations are overwhelming.  And often-times result in awkward exchanges as we try to pretend to be Don Juan, when our natural response is the exact opposite.

Thought 2: Faking extroversion leads us to say stupid stuff

I think the best way to explain introversion is to say that we are energized by internal stimuli (we gain far more satisfaction from the debates that rage within our own mind than any debate we may have with another person) and that we process internally rather than externally (you will rarely hear an introvert say the words, "I am thinking out loud")

Therefore, when we try to 'think out loud' in the attempt to approximate extroversion we are probably going to say something really foolish, because we don't practice thinking out loud and the on the fly filters developed by extroverts are underdeveloped for us.  Think about it this way, when most extroverts become inebriated, their ability to filter is greatly diminished and they say things that 99 times out of 100 are filtered and left unsaid.  For introverts, everytime we try to think out loud, we run the risk of saying the things that extroverts only say when drunk.

Thought 3: Faking extroversion is expected in American culture

Going back to the thinking about the protagonists of love stories, now broaden the scope of the study, how often is the protagonist of a given story a larger than life, life of the party, alpha who wins the hearts of everyone around them with charisma and cunning?  Go ahead, try to think of one, my guess is that for every 1 protagonist that doesn't fit that description, you will be able to come up with 10 who do.  The heroes of American pop-culture, business culture, church culture, political culture, etc. are predominantly extroverted, and our children learn from a young age that to be a hero, one must fill a room, be glad to be in that room, shake every hand, kiss every baby, and want to do it all over again when we are done.

The reality is that for introverts, parties are exhausting.  Which doesn't necessarily mean we dislike being there, but we have to budget our emotional energy.  For example, I love being in church on Sunday mornings, I love hearing the stories of how God's grace is being extended in the lives of people who I love; but, by noon, I am emotionally spent and need to get home, sit in the recliner and recharge.

A few months back, I began tracking how many hours in a given week I did activities that required people skills more often found in extroverts, and I found that after 12 hours of meetings, church, meeting new people, being in public, working in a team, and other energy sapping activities, my productivity, enthusiasm, and overall performance plummets.  I encourage you to look at your schedule and see how long it would take for you to reach 12 emotional energy sapping hours, my guess is that you would be surprised how quickly you get there, I know I was.  In large part this is because in the US, most places of work operate on the assumption that working in a space that is abuzz with the activity of coworkers will increase your own productivity and that multiple weekly meetings are not only helpful but necessary.  My boss, Tom, describes his own introversion like this, "I am an introvert, which means I don't need someone watching me to get my work done."

Thought 4: Most employers want an introvert, but we interview so poorly they don't realize it

If given the choice of an interview or a standardized test, I would take the standardized test every single time.  Interviews are terrible.  They begin by entering a room with one to five people you don't know (strike one), who will be asking questions some of which you aren't prepared to answer (strike two), all with the underlying assumption that you must produce magnetism in the first 10 seconds to make a good first impression (strike three, and we're out).

What if employers were to send out a packet with case studies that required applicants to consider a problem prevalent in a given work environment, and then write out their response?  Would this not be a far more helpful strategy in finding employees that would add value to your company, church, school, or municipality?  In the church, we produce pages and pages of written work for ordination, which can all be undone with a bad interview... what sense does that make? To give privilege to a 40 minute interview over a two pound stack of documents, recommendations, and performance reviews, that doesn't make any sense.


Now this list is far from exhaustive, but hopefully it will start the conversation.  What do you think?

A Foolish Tweet from an Intelligent Man

This morning, as I was making my wife breakfast, I read this tweet from astronomer Neil deGrasse Tyson, "If your belief system is not founded in an objective reality, you should not be making decisions that affect other people." As a modern hero of humanism, this sort of rhetoric is often used by Tyson and other non-theists to claim intellectual high ground against theists of every stripe. However, as is the case in every claim that can be made in less than 140 characters, this line of thinking has some serious problems. For starters, there is not a person living on the planet today, who experiences "objective reality." Each of us are bound by our situatedness and our intuition. To deny that human existence is inherently subjective either shows an incredible lack of self-awareness or unbridled arrogance. Now, it would be one thing to say that those who make decisions that affect others should be capable of making well-reasoned decisions based on the evidence that is available to them, but I don't think this is what Tyson is saying. That being said, he hints that their may be a plurality of objective realities. Which means that best case scenario, Tyson is saying that 'if your belief system is not founded in well-reasoned claims about the nature of reality given the evidence that you have available to you, you should not be making decisions that affect other people.' But, I don't think that is what he is trying to say.

Finding the real in the midst of what my TV shows me of Israel

My friend Craig Miller posted his thoughts earlier today on the current news coming out of Israel, and as I was reading I thought back to my own experience of Israel this past January.  And I should start by saying that life in the strip of land between the Mediterranean Ocean and the Jordan River is far more complex than American news sources are capable of reporting.  The narrative that you and I hear coming from every major news source is that there are two essentially two sides that are separated by culture and religion and cannot come to terms for sustained peace because of these differences... this narrative is incomplete and if we try to make value judgments with this as our baseline understanding of the conflict, we will almost surely be in error.

When Cindy and I were there, we were instructed by Rabbi Brad Hirschfield to do what we could to suspend judgment as we heard the stories of the people.  He encouraged us to assume that every person we talked to was being honest and that each of them were describing their interpretation of the reality of their lives.  He said that if we went into our experience looking for what is true we would leave frustrated, but rather if we listened for the real, we would have a robust, enlightening experience.  I listened to his advice and these are the realities that I remember from my trip to Israel.

The Main-line Ben Gurion reality:
In the early 20th Century, Mayor Meir rode his mare, Mayer, into Tel Aviv and started a colony for displaced, discouraged, disenfranchised Jews from across Europe.  One of the early founders of this city was a man named David Greene.  Greene would later be known as Ben Gurion and when the British left the land in 1948, Ben Gurion, along with the first Israeli paliament declared that Israel would be a Jewish state in the Holy Land.  Within 24 hours, all the surrounding nations attacked, but by God's grace Israel survived.  In the year's following the Israeli government has acted in the best interest of Jews around the world providing a safe place to live to a people group who have been persecuted continuously for 3,000 years.  While Israel isn't perfect (for instance, Sephardic Jews were discriminated against in the 80s and 90s), it offers greater freedom, safety, and prosperity than the other states in the region and has the only functional, quality centralized health care system in the world.

The Palestinian refugee camp reality:
In 1948, the Jews removed the locals from their homes, gave them a tent, and put them in open air prisons promising that in two weeks they would take them back to their homes.  It has been 65 years, and they are still waiting to go back to their home.  In the last 65 years the refugees endure daily dehumanization from IDF guards and have developed a strong disdain for their jailers.  The camps are overcrowded, but if someone tries to build on empty land beyond the boundaries of the camp, their home is demolished by bulldozers in the night.

The National Religious Party Reality:
Forget the last century, three millenia ago, God gave them the land and by God they are going to live in it.  Settlements are not illegal, but rather the will of God who promised the land to the children of Abraham.  With each settlement, God's will is coming to pass.  (Some of the more hardliners would call for the expulsion of all non-Jews from any land that was Israel/Judah during the time of the unified kingdom)

The Bedouin reality:
In the last 40 years, the Israeli government has bulldozed 80% of their communities, and even now the communities that are still intact have rules which forbid putting permanent roofs on homes, installing sewage systems, and other essentials for thriving.

The Eritrean and Sudanese refugee reality:
As many as 100,000 African refugees have come to Israel looking for a safe place to work and live, while their country is embattled in bloody civil wars.  They, in union with human rights groups are asking for work visas so that they can enjoy the privileges of being documented workers.

The Conscientious Objector reality:
At 18 Israeli citizens (with some exceptions) are expected to join the Israeli Defense Force.  Some of these soldiers after seeing the inequity and oppression of the Palestinians conscientiously object to the way in which their own government has governed its neighbors in the Holy Land.

The bartender at our hotel's reality:
Palestinians (he was one) are stupid.  The only way they can live in prosperity is to come to grips with the reality that the Jews are here to stay.  Learn the rules and play by them, quit dreaming of the way things were 70 years ago, because the world is a different place.  Educate yourself and learn how to live in the Jewish world.

These are just thumbnail sketches of the realities that I can remember.  What I learned is that I need to be really slow in judging who is right and wrong, understanding that such value judgments run the risk of dehumanizing both sides.  

Focusing on Virtue

One of my prayers for my son, Ben, is that he would grow up to live a virtuous life.  Virtue is not a particularly popular topic in today's world, as a word it smacks of an antiquated bygone era, but virtue was once the goal of which all great people aspired.  Virtue is a process not a result.  Virtue is a way of being, not a bottom line.

In the modern world, we measure success by how many figures are in our salaries, how many people attend our events, our winning percentage, batting average, and state test scores.  However, the problem with measuring success in this way is that it is incredibly difficult to replicate results.  How often have we seen a person with promise be promoted beyond their capacity?  How often have we seen a one-hit-wonder?  How often do we see fast-starters burn out in the long run?

John Wooden says that when he was younger, he wanted to be in better shape than anyone else he played against, but as he matured he saw the foolishness of this thinking.  His goal should never be rooted in being better than another, but rather in being the best he possibly can be.  Wooden says, "Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing that you made the effort to become the best of which you are capable."  This is virtue.  Virtue is the intentional, internal choices to become the best of which you are capable.

David Watson explains, "When we are listening, giving fair consideration to arguments, representing the positions of others accurately, thinking rigorously, and speaking in ways that are logical and coherent, we exhibit intellectual virtue. When we do otherwise, we exhibit intellectual vice."  Notice, that intellectual virtue is not a measurement of truthfulness or falsehood of one's stated position, but rather a measurement of the process that leads one to believe, and virtuously express those beliefs.

Someday, in the relatively near future, Ben will begin to develop the ability to communicate.  And I pray that as he begins to compete on courts, diamonds, rinks, and fields and as he begins to bring home schoolwork and as we talk about what he learned in Sunday School after church, that his mother and I can effectively nurture virtue within him. so that the only person he ever judges himself against is his best possible self, and the way we score each performance is focused on his process rather than the outcome.  

A New Place to Belong

Child development experts say that for the first 18 months of our life, the fundamental question of our existence is, "To whom do I belong?"  As we get older, we ask different sets of questions, but the first question we ask is always, to whom do I belong, or as the children's book phrased it, "Are you my mother?"

When we go through transitions, we often find ourselves asking this same question.  When I married Cindy, I instantaneously belonged to a new person.  This past week, with the birth of Ben, I have found myself belonging to yet another person.  And not all my belongings are familial.  I belong to friends, the community of faith, and God.

There are people in our community who find themselves without a place to belong, sometimes because of previous sin, sometimes because of disabilities, always because the world's economy has said that they are not valuable, are not worthy, are not loved.  We have an awesome opportunity to subvert the message of the world, with the message of Jesus.  This is why Gentle Worship is so exciting.  For the first time, in the history of Dayton, a church is saying that families affected by disability are valuable, are worthy, are loved--and God has called us to be that church.  There are two other churches in the Dayton Metro area that have monthly gentle worship gatherings, but we will be the first to offer a weekly place to belong for families affected by disabilities for worship, fellowship, and service.

This Saturday, Greg, Andy, Cindy, and I will be going to Hillside Chapel in Beavercreek to worship with their Gentle Worship community, and network with partners in serving the disability community in Dayton.  Pray for us as we continue to plot and scheme ways to infect the world with the subversive message of Jesus.  If you would like more information about Gentle Worship at the Y, please let me know.

Gloria a Dios!

When I was in high school, my youth group went on a mission trip to Juarez, Mexico with Youth Works.  And during this trip, I learned two gospel truths.  1) Mexican coca cola is infinitely more delicious than American coca cola, and 2) The best way to end a day is to name the experiences of the holy from the past day.

Before bed each night, the group would get together and share how God made his presence known throughout the days activity, and when a person was finished sharing, as a group we would exclaim, "Gloria a dios" which if I remember correctly is roughly translated, "Hooray God."  As Christians, this type of spiritual discipline should not be ignored.  Whether it is practiced personally or corporately, we are wise to incorporate the intentional remembrance of God's presence in our lives into our disciplined devotional life.

For Cindy and I this is part of our devotional life together.  This morning, when we were studying together on our back patio, we asked each other the question, "How have you experienced the grace of God this past week?" And I know for me (and I assume for her), it is a profound experience to say that my experience of God was the result of her kindness towards me or someone else.

So today, I encourage you to be on the lookout for God's presence breaking into your daily activity and tonight before you go to bed, sit down and write out at least one time in the past day, where you experienced the grace of God.  If you really want to over achieve, post your God sighting to facebook or twitter with the hashtag #gloriaadios and together we can share in the experience of the Holy.

Reflections on Parenting: Stop Complaining about your Church

As we get ever closer to the day our son will enter the world, well meaning people continue to give us the advice, "Do [activity x] now, because when the baby comes you won't get to do it anymore."  Now, I know that the folks who give us this advice are well meaning, and that they love their own children and wouldn't give them back for 10 million dollars; however, the way parenthood is often presented as martyrdom to not-yet-parents.

"When the kid comes, you won't get to golf anymore."

"When the kid comes, you won't get to go to movies anymore."

"When the kid comes, you won't get to sleep through the night anymore."

"When the kid comes, you won't have any time to take care of you anymore."

Just think about the video that went viral this past mother's day:

They made motherhood out to be slavery to your children.

And make me wonder if Captain Hook had it right.

But let's be honest, parenthood is not slavery to children.

And neither is being a pastor slavery to the church.

This next week, West Ohio clergy will gather at Lakeside for Annual Conference, and while I enjoy getting to go up and see friends and colleagues, my least favorite part of Annual Conference is the constant whining of pastors who complain about their churches.  "Those people are needy," "Those people are lazy," "Those people are stuck in 1971"... And the never-ending lamenting goes on and on.  If I didn't know better, I just might think that you hate your church.  And if you hate your church, then why would I ever want to be a part of it?

A few months back I was going through a frustrating situation at church, and while at the gym, I was complaining to my workout partner, and he said, "Man, sounds like the folks in your church really suck."  And a wave of conviction hit me,  because the folks in my church don't suck, in fact, I find myself on a weekly basis overwhelmed by the grace of God to put Cindy and I in a church that is so committed to discipleship, so committed to living out and sharing God's love.  My folks are awesome, and doing awesome ministry.  The only thing that sucked was my attitude, and my attitude gave my friend the impression that our church is not the sort of place he would be welcome.

If our default attitude leads us to complain about shortcomings, we will never be happy.  If we spend more time complaining about our spouse than we do praising them, we will have a miserable marriage.  If we spend more time complaining about our kids than we do enjoying them, we will be miserable parents.  If we spend more time complaining about our church than we do telling the story of God's faithfulness, then we will be miserable pastors.

Ted Williams' Wisdom for Pastors

This past week, I read Ted Williams' 'The Science of Hitting.'  And in the Science of Hitting, Williams claims over and over and over again that hitting is baseball is 50% mental, and in reading his book, you might just be led to believe that he is understating the case, as more than 90% of the book's instruction revolves around plate approach, pitch recognition, and situational strategy.

For Williams, the cardinal rule of hitting a baseball is, "Hit a good pitch."  The entire drama of baseball is captured in the interplay between the pitcher and the batter, as the pitcher does everything they can to get hitters to swing at pitches that are in weak hitting zones (low and away, high and inside, etc.).  Williams says several times throughout the book, that a mediocre hitter will hit pitch in their zone better than the best hitter will hit a pitch out of their zone, and since he is quite possibly the greatest hitter of all-time, I tend to think he is right.

As pastors, I think there is wisdom for us in this image.  The most effective and memorable sermons we preach will be the ones that when we are finished preaching, we leave the pulpit saying to ourselves, "I don't know about anyone else, but I sure needed to hear that."  Likewise, there will be times when parishioners ask us questions for which we don't know the answer.  Like a great hitter lays off a curveball in the dirt, we need to grow comfortable with admitting that we don't know.  And sometimes we might actually know the answer, but the "right" answer is not the pastoral response and once again wisdom tells us not to swing at the cut fastball in on our hands.

I think this image also works when we think about the way we manage our time.  How many hours a week do we waste in non-strategic pursuits?  If we laid off those pursuits that were out of our zone, how much more effective would we be the things that are strategic?  Now I must be clear here, there is a difference between what is strategic and what you like to do best.  You can't simply blow off visiting folks in the hospital because you don't like it and claim that you are ignoring the sick because they aren't strategic.

Another nugget of wisdom from Teddy Ballgame is to (almost) always take the first pitch and to never swing at a pitch you haven't seen before.  So often as pastors, we manage a system with a high level of anxiety.  Folks are lost, hurting, down-trodden, addicted, oppressed, and fearful... and the church is THE institution designed by God to embrace the pain of the world.  So naturally, the church will be a setting of high anxiety as broken people come together, and with this cultural makeup, every single week you will hear from someone how the sky is falling.  Listen to Ted, take the first pitch.  Under-react.  Absorb that anxiety, don't stoke the fire.  Not every emergency is a real emergency, and not every complaint should be acted upon.  So take the first pitch.

In the same way that hitting is 50% mental and takes up 90% of the content, being faithful as a pastor might just be 50% internal.  From time to time we will get lucky with a see ball, hit ball mentality, but more often than not, we need to be the masters of internalizing what is going on around us, and deliberately and intentionally planning our actions and reactions.

Why I can't bring myself to do an altar call...

This past week, Sammy Rhodes had an article published that was a magic carpet ride of nostalgia for every church kid who started youth group between 1997 and 2005.  If you haven't seen the article yet, I encourage you to look at it, it will give you the feels (although I can't guarantee what set of feels it may be).

One element of growing up a church kid in the late 90s that he left out however was the obligatory altar call at the end of every retreat, music festival, mission trip, camp, and Superbowl party.  If you were like me, when you were in high school, the church calendar looked something like this:

At the end of August there would be a Back to School Youth Kickoff party where the plan of salvation was presented.  Then in the middle of October, at the Fall Retreat, the plan of salvation was presented again and I would be saved for the first time that year by raising my hand when everyone else had their eyes shut.  By the end of November, I had back-slidden to the point where at the FCA Retreat I would once again raise my hand while everyone kept their eyes shut for my salvation.  On New Years Eve, we would have our lock-in where once again I would hear the plan of salvation.  The first week of February I would hear the plan of salvation again, this time shown on the bigscreen by a pre-recorded NFL player during half-time (which of course is why no church kid saw the 'wardrobe malfunction' live).  By the end of March, I had been to the purity retreat, repented of youtubing the wardrobe malfunction, and once more asked Jesus to be my personal savior (we are up to 3 for those of you scoring at home).  In April we would go to Ichthus, where once again the plan of salvation was presented, and this time I, along with 10,000 of my closest friends raised my hand to be saved.  The summer brought a week at camp that culminated by praying at the altar and a mission trip where once again I could raise my hand while everyone else kept their eyes shut.

Looking back, I must have been saved and resaved at least 27 times before getting my driver's license. None of which resulted in transformation of my heart and mind.

In, The King Jesus Gospel, Scot McKnight talks about the way that 'salvation culture' has overcome 'gospel culture' in much of evangelicalism.  He argues that most evangelicals (and many mainliners as well) when questioned about the content of the Gospel jump straight to a plan of salvation (whether that be the 4 spiritual laws, the romans road, the bead bracelet, or some other tract).  For McKnight, the plan of salvation is a meager gospel, in large part because it fails to connect the life, death, burial, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus to the larger trajectory of the story of God.  For McKnight, a rendering of the Gospel that casts Jesus as savior without also casting him as Lord is no Gospel at all.

Tom Wright has claimed that when we distill the Gospel down to the plan of salvation, that we cease to be a Gospel community, we cease to be Evangelical, but instead we should be called soterians, the saved ones.  The difference being that as soterians we are justified, but there is little impetus for sanctification--there is little impetus for being transformed into the image of God.

And there in lies the rub.  God calls us to make disciples, who immersed in a Gospel culture, are transformed into the image of God, and while the plan of salvation (how we become justified) is part of this Gospel culture, it has no power when separated from the discipleship pathway (how we can become sanctified). So, no matter how much I want to, I can't bring myself to offer an empty gospel that justifies without the probability of sanctification.  And neither could Wesley.

As United Methodists, sometimes we imagine John Wesley as a larger than life, Superman-like character in the English religious landscape.  But the reality is that Wesley's work as a field preacher was dwarfed by that of George Whitfield.  Whitfield was the master evangelist, whose preaching brought at least 10 times as many Englishmen to saving faith than did Wesley's.  However, every person who came to faith under Wesley was immediately put in a [discipleship] class.  In other words, Wesley refused to offer justification without the expectation of sanctification, and now, almost 250 years later, the movement with the method is in mission in nearly every community around the globe, while Whitfield, even before his death, lamented that he had not been as committed to getting converts into classes.

Here is where I want some feedback.  I believe that the acknowledgement of justifying grace in one's life is important, but I don't believe that our usual ways of acknowledging justifying grace are working for making disciples.  How have you seen the moment of decision turned into the first step of the discipleship pathway?  How does the plan of salvation function in a Gospel culture?

What do we deserve by virtue of being human?

This morning I saw a new meme on Facebook that had been shared by a couple of my friends saying something to the effect of, "Those who receive government benefits should have to be tested for drugs, since I do to be able to work and be taxed for said benefits."  On the surface, this is a relatively reasonable argument.  It makes sense that if I want to collect a "public good," a certain level of responsibility with the resources I do have should be expected.  However, on closer inspection, this sentiment reveals a troubling assumption about poverty, responsibility, and the human condition.

Before I go any further, I should lay my cards on the table.  I believe that humans, by virtue of being human in society, are entitled to a certain necessities for human flourishing.  Beyond these necessities, we are entitled to nothing.  What exactly these necessities include is constantly changing (and are different from society to society), and is extremely difficult to nail down, however, the basic principle remains that there is a basket of goods and services that every human living in society should have access to by virtue of being human.

In the past, calamity was viewed as a fact of life.  In any society, some would be wealthy and many more would be impoverished, and no one ever blamed the poor for being poor, in fact, in many societies, these assumptions about the lack of class mobility were codified.  But at some point around the Industrial Revolution, Western society (most strongly in North America) began to assume that wealth was primarily the result of merit, and by extension, the poor were responsible for their being poor, without regard to the systems in place that perpetuate generational poverty or the psychological differences that contribute to poverty.

What we are saying when we require a person to be drug tested before receiving public goods is that they are wholly responsible for their poverty, which is patently false.  A child born to a single mother, who abused drugs and alcohol during her pregnancy, whose mother couldn't read and therefore couldn't read to the child, who moved twice a year clear through elementary school, whose only balanced meals came on Sunday at grandma's house and free lunches on school days, who went to failing schools the whole way through, and who was abused by all six of her mother's boyfriends, the fifth impregnating her at age 14 cannot be held accountable for her poverty anymore than a privately educated child with two parents, who was cared for every step of the way can be fully accountable for perpetuating wealth.

In light of this, in 2014, in Dayton, OH by virtue of being human, we should be entitled to:

temperature controlled shelter
12th grade or equivalent education
transportation to place of education/library
2000 whole food calories per day
light
clean drinking water
hygiene products
world's most efficient method of communication, research, and leisure (smart phone)
Basic preventative and emergency health care

My guess is that some of you would want to add or subtract from this list, please do in the comment section and we can dialogue about what are the necessities for human flourishing in Dayton, in 2014.

Also, if you have creative ideas about the vehicles by which these necessities would be best delivered contribute them to the discussion.

Finally, if you think my basic assumption about poverty and what humans deserve by virtue of being human feel free to make your objection and we can dialogue on that topic as well.

Hated by the World?

Two of the Gospels record Jesus encouraging his disciples in the struggle to be faithful disciples in the face of opposition.  In Matthew 10:22 says, "You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved." and this idea is also found in John 15:18, "If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first."

Here recently, I have seen culture warriors paint these texts on their shields as they try to repel scrutiny for acting in mean and devious ways in the name of "Biblical" [marriage, science, morality, gender roles, etc].  It is not uncommon for Christians to take Biblical texts out of context, for example, when a football player writes PHIL 4:13 on his eye black, chances are he is not making a statement about the Holy Spirit's power to sustain the falsely imprisoned and enslaved; so when I started seeing the culture warriors claiming that the criticism leveled against them was the fulfillment of Jesus teaching that the world would hate his followers, I couldn't help but wonder what Jesus meant by "world."  Blowing the dust off the ol' lexicon we see that the Greek word that we have been translating as world is the word, "cosmos," which can mean "world," but can also mean "universe," "government," or more generally "order."  

If you don't think that word study was all that helpful, I would agree with you and think that the best way we can really get a sense of what Jesus meant when he said that the cosmos will hate you, is to take a look in the Gospels and see who treated Jesus with hate and contempt.

I will give you a hint, it isn't the sinners.  Yes, the antagonists in the Gospels are most often the Jewish religious elite.  Which is why, when modern day religious elite quote these words of Jesus, serious questions must be raised about the validity of the assertion that the criticism of the ostracized is "the world" hating them for following Jesus.

I think the best way to read, "cosmos" is to read it as the spiritual forces in the universe, because behind the curtain, the religious elite in the Gospels are being played by the spiritual forces of sin and death, who Jesus ultimately defeats in his death, resurrection, and the here-but-not-yet consummation of the eternal kingdom.

So does the cosmos hate the culture warriors? Yes, but not because they will die on the hill of a 6,000 year old solar system.  Rather, I can speak from experience to say that when I bought in to the culture war, the cosmos was destroying my heart by feeding me the lie that my selfish pride was not only normal, but praiseworthy.  The lie that being right was more important than being loving, to the point where I had a warped view of love that allowing someone else to think differently from me was failing to love them.

The cosmos promotes selfish pride, which make no mistakes is the root of all sin.  When we put on the character of Christ and live for the good of others, we will be hated--sadly, all to often those who will hate us the most are our own religious elite.

Tennis Van Debates: Women in Church and Family Leadership

On the 2009 Spring Break trip to Florida, two of us were reading The Blue Parakeet: Rethinking How You Read the Bible.  In this book, Scot McKnight reflects upon the ways that different Christian traditions read the Bible and how these differences lead to controversy.  After making general observations, McKnight devotes the second half of the book to applying the lessons of previous chapters in thinking through whether or not women should be in church leadership positions (which believe it or not is still debated in many Evangelical traditions).

About half way through the trip, the two of us had both finished the book and began discussing some of the claims and arguments made by McKnight in The Blue Parakeet.  As the two of us were talking, another member of our team chimed in, "Women can't be pastors.  It says so in the Bible."  

Now, I am prone to being wrapped a little too tight, with too short a fuse; so, when our misinformed teammate parroted the same complimentarian line he had heard growing up I was rearing back to rhetorically pummel him--luckily the other guy who read the book was far more even tempered and simply asked, "where does it say that?"  Of course, our teammate didn't know (probably because it doesn't actually say that anywhere in the Bible),* but he made some assertions about Paul's letters, which were quickly defeated by my teammate who had read the book with me.

But then, my complimentarian teammate said, "Well, that may be true, but I don't think I could respect a female pastor."  And this, I believe, is the actual central tenet of an ecclesial view that limits the places where women can serve and lead.  Once one wades through all the weeds of theological and biblical arguments for the limiting of women in the church and home, at the very center of the complimentarian project is a fear/lack of respect for women, which drives some to abuse the Biblical text to satisfy their sexist disposition.  "But Caleb," some might say, "Jesus' 12 original disciples are all men."  Yep, and if you go to Jerusalem today, and visit the western wall, you will discover that to this day, men pray on one side of a fence and women on the other.  The first 12 were all men, like every other rabbi in Israel, but notice how many women surround Jesus as his ministry progresses, enough that the Gospel writers feel it appropriate to make special mention of the women present at the crucifixion, resurrection, and the day of Pentecost.

In the words of Colin Cowherd, if you don't want a female in church leadership, "that is a you problem." Throughout church history, women have played vital roles in the leadership of the church; oftentimes relegated to the margins by men who hid behind weakly formed theological and biblical arguments.  But at the margins, these women were at the center of some of the church's most interesting and world changing renewal movements.  At this point, one can only deny that God is calling both women and men into the ministry and mission of church leadership if they close their eyes, stick their fingers in their ears and pretend like God hasn't been using female pastors, elders, deacons, seminary presidents, professors, missionaries, monastics, and authors to renew the church and transform the world.

If I have missed a relevant piece of information, feel free to leave a comment and we can practice intellectually virtuous dialogue.

*I can already hear the interlocutors key strokes ready to say that I am overlooking 1 Corinthians 14, Titus1, 1 Timothy 2, and 2 Timothy 3: four cases where Paul advises specific communities of faith to "silence" the women and/or describes male leadership.  While there is no doubt that in these four occurences, which are all canonical documents, that Paul calls for the silencing of a particular group of women, we don't know why for sure, but clearly he does so; however, it is foolishness to assume that the four times that Paul advises churches to silence the women carries more authority than the half dozen times he praises female apostles and deacons in the same letters (see Junia, Priscilla, Phoebe, etc.).  Additionally, the modern notion of 'pastor' is not seen anywhere in the Bible, but has been developed over the church's 2000 year history, so that much like the modern family is not the same as the ancient household, one shouldn't assume contextual similarity between the 21st century west and the 1st century near-east.

Tennis Van Debates: Greatest Champion of All-Time.

One of my favorite college activities was riding in the tennis van to and from away tennis matches.  Now, it should be noted, that the van was cramped, uncomfortable, and smelled like half a dozen 20 year old boys whose mothers weren't around to make sure they showered and did their laundry--but for all its physical shortcomings, that tennis van cultivated the life of the mind like no other space on campus.

Over the next few weeks, this blog will be remembering some of the greatest debates that were waged on the benches of the tennis van.  Today, we remember the 'Greatest Champion' debate of 2007.  (If you have no interest in tennis, you may want to skip the next paragraph, with the assumption that tennis folks can't agree on who is the best for a plethora of reasons)

A bit of background for those who are not familiar with tennis: If you ask 5 tennis players who the greatest tennis champion is of all time, you will get 5 different answers, with 5 different rubrics for assigning greatness. Every sport has a debate of this kind, but no other sport has this complex a debate when it comes to greatest champion, because while in golf one could point to Jack Nicklaus' 18 majors or Sam Snead's 82 professional wins or Bobby Jones' double grand-slam, tennis record keeping is more nuanced because it is played on three dramatically different surfaces that historically have produced three different sets of champions.  So much so, that in the last 40 years, there have only been three men to win a major championship on all three surfaces (Agassi, Federer, Nadal).  For some, this limits the discussion to these three players and since Federer has 4 more than Nadal and 7 more than Agassi, that makes him the GOAT, but, he has a losing record to Nadal, can he be better than the player who has owned him for the last decade?  And where does Sampras fall on the list?  He has the second most slam wins, but never won at Rolland Garros.  And while Agassi has less than these four, he is the only won with an Olympic Gold Medal... And this is just the Open Era.  What do we do with the great champions of the past like Rod Laver and Roy Emerson.  Yes, the Greatest Champion discussion is more murky in tennis than in any other professional sport, and this is the debate we had over the course of three or four trips my freshman year.

I have just explained why this debate is murky, now let me tell you why the clear choice for greatest tennis champion of all time is Andre Agassi.

I have been re-reading Gordon McDonald's 'Ordering Your Private World.'  And in this text, McDonald describes the danger of premature success.  He writes, "Premature success is often more of an obstacle than a help.  The premature succeeder is usually a fast learner, able to aquire expertise with minimal effort...And he may conclude that he can do anything he sets his mind to, because things come easily to him."  

Andre Agassi is quite possibly the most gifted tennis player to ever live.  I recently came across a youtube channel that has 500 recorded matches from the late 90s and early 2000s, and I am amazed even now at just how good Andre Agassi was at returning serve and the ease by which he moved from defense to offense.  In the early 90s, he was ranked in the top-10, won Wimbledon, the US Openn, and dozens of ATP tour events all while addicted to cocaine and "hating" to play tennis.  His ranking dropped during the mid-90s as his personal life spiraled out of control, but he still managed to sneak out an Aussie Open championship in 95 and a Gold Medal in 96.  After winning Gold, living out of control caught up with him and he fell out of the top 150 in the world (164 at his lowest).  

At this point, the assumption was that Andre Agassi, much like Marcello Rios, Marat Safin, and Guillermo Corea, was a fast starter with premature success and wouldn't be heard from again.

But in 1999, he came back, won two slams and reestablished himself as the #1 player in the world.  The premature succeeder became a champion whose victories were the result of endurance and discipline, not talent.  He finished his career the only player to have won the career grand slam and an Olympic Gold Medal, but more important than his raw statistics is the narrative of how an undisciplined fast starter, who was accidentally one of the best players in the world became a bum on the circuit, but found new life and a second career after disciplining himself.

That being said, Federer and Nadal would also be accepted as correct answers.

How Many Buckets?

Yesterday morning, Adam Hamilton sold some books by posting a blog in which he talks about how the Bible functions, especially in light of the NY Annual Conference's decision to dismiss the trial against Rev. Dr. Thomas Ogletree.  In this blog, Rev. Hamilton suggests that all scripture falls into three 'buckets.'  From his blog, they are:

Scriptures that express God’s heart, character and timeless will for human beings.

Scriptures that expressed God’s will in a particular time, but are no longer binding.

Scriptures that never fully expressed the heart, character or will of God.

Being ever the salesman, Hamilton didn't actually give us the tools in the blog to figure out what scripture goes in what bucket (but for 16.49 you can pre-order the answers), however, in the 30 hours following this post, the UM interwebs have buzzed with the question, "How many buckets are their really?"  Or put another way, are there really sections of the Bible that in no way, at no time reflected the heart, character, or will of God?

Are their really parts of the Bible that serve as something of a bookmark in the history of religion showing the human witness to the spiritual around them, while misinterpreting, omitting, or embellishing the encounter with the Holy?
I hope not.

I think Hamilton is right in the sense that, when read in a vacuum, there are parts of the Bible which, as Christians, we must reject; however, this rejection is based on the completion of the narrative.  To be clear, the parts of the Biblical text that should be rejected by Christians are parts that the text itself rejects if you read it to the end.

Putting it another way, the Bible is not a list of bullet-pointed claims about reality.  Rather, we receive most of the text as narrative.  Now, think about Star Wars: A New Hope.  If you turned off the VHS when Han Solo told Luke that he was going to take his money and run, rather than help in the offensive against the Death Star, you could make a claim like, "Han Solo is such a jerk for leaving Luke and Leah high and dry." And while you could go to that scene and clearly point out how he is loading his money up and clearly point out how he refuses to join in the fight, you would be missing the most important part of the story, where he swoops in, sends Vader spiraling into deep space, and gives Luke the chance to blow up the Death Star.

The Bible has a handful of different genres, but one that we see a lot is narrative.  We see, in both the Old and New Testaments, stories told to express the character, nature, and work of God in the world.  Stories must be read to the end to capture the author's intent, because oftentimes a good storyteller will transform characters and the realities they live in as the story progresses.  If we stop short, or read the story out of order, or a passage without regard to its context, we are abusing the author.

So, I am not sure the image of buckets is going to be helpful.  I will read the book when I can get it for $2 on Kindle (which almost always happens because that is how most Christian publishers get on the best-seller list), but I am not expecting the three buckets to be earth-shattering, because it would be ludicrous to read a good novel, periodically stopping to take a red pen to the parts that I thought were inconsistent with the broader trajectory of the book.  Likewise, reading the Bible with an eye towards what parts do and don't apply to me removes the Spirit from the living, creative process that is dwelling with God through the reading of and being read by the Bible.

Newsletter Article April 2014

My favorite thing about Sulphur Grove is the diversity of ways that we are in mission together.  Whether it be the ministry of setting up and tearing down, leading worship, mission trips, Harvest Party and the Eggstravaganza, Bags of Love, Hickory Dickory Shop, Home Before Midnight, Grub at the Grove, Boy Scouts, Youth Group, Emmaus, Kairos, The Factory, or The Grove--there is a place for every person in our church family to participate in God’s mission in the world.  And what I find the most amazing is that none of these ministries were started by the Pastor.  Sulphur Grove has a long history of three to five friends gathering around a God-sized vision of service and courageously following God into the uncertain waters of mission.

In Luke 5, we see a group of four friends rallying around the God sized vision of seeing their paralyzed friend walking, and this vision leads them to the house where Jesus is staying.  Much to their chagrin, when they arrive, the house is crowded with pharisees from every village of Galilee and Judea.  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that squeezing their friend through the front door isn’t an option, but these four men are committed to their friend and they go up onto the roof, tear away the ceiling tiles, and lower their friend down into the room where he experiences forgiveness and healing in the presence of Jesus.

As Christians, we too are called to look for opportunities to lower our friends, neighbors, coworkers and family members through the roof to experience the love and power of Jesus.  One of the ways which we have done this in the past is through partnering with the Y at the Heights to host the Eggstravaganza at Healthy Kids Day.  By hosting the Eggstravaganza, we get to interact with more than 500 children in the community who we wouldn’t get to see otherwise, and in that time we get to demonstrate Jesus love for them in a tangible way and interact with their parents.  Eggstravaganza is a mission opportunity that opens the back door of our church to members of our community.

On April 6th, we are beginning a new ministry at the Y, that is designed to serve families affected by disability by partnering them with a buddy who is trained to help them navigate a Sunday morning with us at the Y, providing a safe and welcoming environment for the entire family to worship.  The Buddy Program is just one of the ways that three to five friends with a God sized vision is transforming our church family and blessing the community around us.

What God-sized dreams do you dream?

Was Jesus the Original Christian Culture Warrior?

Last week I posted this reflection to my Facebook wall at the end of my morning quiet time:

At a certain point we must all decide whether we are more interested in allowing the text to shape us or if we are simply looking for a weapon to fight the culture war.

Being a white evangelical male, I was trained in the ways of culture war in my youth and am still close with many who view the essential practice of Christianity to be the "defense of the faith" against the four-headed monster of post-modernism, the liberal agenda, Hollywood, and Bill Nye.  Not-too-surprisingly, my friends who have invested the majority of their spiritual energy scouring the Bible in search of passages that defend a 6,000 year old universe, traditional view of Christian marriage, and the superiority of free-market economics weighed in with their disapproval both publicly and privately*.  The most interesting critique I received claimed that Jesus was the original culture warrior, that Jesus changed the culture of his day and that it was a struggle, if not a fight for him.  And for the last four days I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this exact question, "Was Jesus the original culture warrior?"

And I think the answer is no, but am open to correction if someone has a more compelling argument.
The way I see it, Jesus wasn't changing the culture of first-century, Roman-occupied Judea.  This is precisely why the crowd that gathered chose for Barabas to be released--they believed that Barabas offered the better opportunity to wage the cultural crusade against Rome.  Jesus wasn't the cultural messiah they were looking for, so they went with a different option.

To put the original Jesus movement in context, the messianic Jewish movement of Jesus probably consisted of less than 200 people at the time of the crucifixion.  By contrast, Chabad messianism was the largest faction of Hasidic Judaism at the time of Rabbi Schneerson's death with more than 300,000 people.

While culture has been changed, somewhat organically by the spread of Christianity, the power of the Gospel has never been focused in its ability to change culture; rather, the love of Jesus in the power of the Holy Spirit changes hearts.  There is actually some compelling evidence that suggests that when the church starts warring with culture, that the life giving good news of Jesus is drowned out by the noise generated by worldview crusaders

According to Kinnaman and Lyons, the public perception of Christianity is increasingly informed by the charged rhetoric of the culture warriors and has led to the millenial perception of the church (and by extension Jesus) as being anti-homosexual, judgmental, hypocritical, anti-intellectual, and overly political.  It is significant that almost no Christians, even those most committed to fighting the culture war, would ever characterize their faith as essentially anti-homosexual or essentially anti-intellectual.  But in the same way that when our technology outpaces our ethics horrendous things happen; when our commitment to orthodoxy surpasses our commitment to orthopraxy we can become real jerks.  And ultimately that has been the legacy of the culture war.  The followers of Jesus living in the west have all the 'right' answers, but the lack of love, especially for the outsider, has painted Jesus and his followers as homophobic, biggoted, selfish jerks who care more about winning elections than transforming the world.


* (Now, I should be clear here, believing in a 6,000 year old universe is within the bounds of Christian orthodoxy and many intelligent, sincere, informed people believe just that.  Likewise, believing that marriage is designed as the union of one woman to one man in covenant with a Holy and transcendent God is also thoroughly Christian.  I would even go so far to say that while the Bible doesn't advocate for any modern economic system, free-market principles were at play during the writing of the Bible and historically principled free-markets have been the most equitable economic system we have seen.)

A Couple Thoughts on Call...

...as I await my yearly interview with the DCOM.

In United Methodism, we place a heavy emphasis on a person's call to ministry--which as I spend more time with pastors in traditions that are different from my own, I grow to appreciate more and more.  However, I sometimes fear that the language we use around call has the ability to muddy the waters, especially with regards to ordination.  A little while back, Dr. David Watson blogged about the ordination process being too arbitrary because in his experience (and the experience of most who posted in the comment section) the members of our District Committees and Conference Boards enter the interview process with a set of assumptions that shaped their understanding of their own call to ministry, and all too often place those assumptions on candidates for ministry.

An example that is intentionally somewhat absurd to better explain what he means would be if Pastor Jack McJackerson experienced the call to ministry as the clouds parting and the audible voice of God calling out, "Jack McJackerson, I call you to itinerant ministry as an elder in the Indiana Annual Conference" and then Jack would expect every candidate to have this same sort of experience with supernatural cloud parting, and a booming voice from heaven, and every candidate that couldn't produce this narrative would be penalized in their seeking of ordination.

Now, I don't think that anyone I have seen on a district committee has "audible voice of God" as their standard for whether or not a person is truly called to ordained ministry, but both my experience and the experience of others confirm this notion that the evaluation of whether or not one is called is deeply influenced by the individual biases of the committee members.  Lucky for me, up to this point, the narrative of my call to ministry has not been one that offended the sensibilities of the individuals on my interview teams; however, the lack of clarity about call as a general idea undoubtedly leads to anxiety for many candidates (myself included).

My favorite definition of call comes from Tony Campolo who argues that call is the intersection of a need and the way one is wired.  For example, the world is in need of individuals willing to educate children.  My mother is patient, creative, and is filled with joy when she can help someone understand a new concept.  Her call is to be an educator and for almost 30 years she has experienced God's pleasure as she lives out the call to teach.  She never heard a voice from heaven, but her deepest passions, her skills, and the world's needs all intersected in education.

I am convinced that their is value in being able to articulate the narrative of call, and our District Committees should be attentive to whether or not we, who are called to ordained ministry, can tell the story of hope and healing that has come from a restored relationship with the Father through the work of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit.  But I do wish that there was greater clarity on what points of intersection, we as a tradition, consider appropriate for elders, deacons, lay extension ministry, etc.  Such clarity would help both the candidate and the committee better understand how we as individual church leaders fit into the larger body of Christ.

The Problem of Over-Hedging

As Christians (and religious people in general), it is a common practice to "plant a hedge" around doctrinal claims.  For example, the first article of Apostle's Creed states, "I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth."  All Christians affirm this statement, but some have added to it in an attempt to protect it, affirming a statement that reads something like, "I believe in the God the Father omnipotent, who in six days, six thousand years ago created heaven and the earth."  This is the act of planting a hedge.

And hedge planting is not, in and of itself, a bad thing.  In Matthew, Jesus plants hedges with regard to murder, adultery, promise keeping, revenge, and hospitality for the other.  These hedges are designed to promote Godliness and encourage faithfulness in the thousand small choices that have the potential to lead to acts of sin or acts of righteousness.

Hedge planting can also be helpful in self-definition, polity, and doctrinal clarity.  However, hedge planting has also been a tool of slavery, segregation, and sectarianism.  All of us plant hedges, some of them help our faith to bear fruit by protecting us from weeds while others hurt us by blocking our view of the sun.  And on the level of personal faith, we should be consistently evaluating how our hedges are promoting life.

But the real danger of hedge planting is what it can do in the corporate life of the church.  When a large enough group of people come together and agree on a set of hedges, these hedges, which were initially developed for the promotion of Godliness, can become themselves central to the faith.  Watching the debate between Bill Nye and Ken Hamm, it became clear that Ken Hamm's hedge of a certain brand of Biblical inerrancy, was a central tenet in his personal creed, and he is not alone.  Many Christians have adopted this hedge as a central tenet of the faith, and in so doing have excluded all others (both Christian and non-Christian) from dialogue on any number of issues relating to faith and godliness.

In the past two years I have seen orthodox, devout Christian men and women abused by other Christians because they wouldn't elevate one hedge or another.  I have seen those who claim to be followers of the Jesus whose central character is one of self-giving, humility, and grace be selfish, proud, and abusive in the name of "doctrinal integrity."  And this is exactly the argument Paul makes in 1 Corinthians 12 where he compares loveless religion to a clanging gong or a crashing symbol.

Well-planted hedges can be incredible tools for the production of spiritual fruit, but we must be self-aware enough to recognize the difference between the hedge and the fruit tree.