A Defining Moment

Recently on a college campus in the midwest I was informed by InterVarsity staff about a certain philosophy professor -- "in fact, he's sitting over there" -- who sometimes talks with our students.

He's an atheist, of course.

I went over and introduced myself and sat down.

He had no idea what to expect from this stranger from Minnesota. Nor was I quite sure what I was getting into.

But after a few minutes of dishing up Kant and Hume with some Descartes on the side, we were off and running.

Two observations after a lively hour of discussion:

1. Scattered: Atheist Professor (AP) lacks an organizing center. His views are patchwork.

2. Defining moment for AP: came not simply through philosophical speculation but by "losing" a female friend to Christianity when they were both teenagers. Subsequently, his reading of a Billy Graham book "gave me no guidance for becoming a better person. It was all about conversion."

I'd like to be friends with AP. I found him to be engaging and enjoyable as we traded polemics regarding faith, ethics and the existence of God.

But for Christians there is something more important in this encounter than rational case-making. And that is . . . our manner.

Would the Christian -- me, in this case -- care for AP through careful listening and respectful body language (i.e, my manner)?

Would I truly hear AP's defining moment above all the philosophy-chatter?

And would the aging intellectual come to trust a Christian again after losing faith in us 50 years ago?

This May Make You Envious

A couple of years ago I joined a theological discussion group that is one of the best, ever.

Let's just call it TP.

Guess what happened?

The friendships in TP grew so rich, the humor so hilarious, the fellowship so sweet, the discussions so penetrating, that we expanded by 25%.

We went from three people to four.

One is Catholic. One is Episcopalian. One is Covenant. And one is a generic evangelical.

We're not looking for new members.

When I describe the group to other friends, they look at me with longing and envy.

Seems many of us desire to be in a fraternity where we are deeply loved and deeply challenged. Where the level of honesty and transparency trumps the superficiality that often passes for Christian community.

Granted, TP is an unusual group.

But your TP is out there, waiting to happen. You may need to quit something else (maybe five other things) to get your group going.

Try starting with just one other person. And in that regard I have a simple suggestion:

Choose wisely.

A We Thing

I've always thought of myself as having something to offer the ministry profession.

Lately I'm reconsidering that thought. I'm changing it to what WE have to offer the ministry profession.

Who is "we"?

We is the people who send me out there to do God's work.

I recently talked with a successful person in the marketplace who is producing a lot of service, but without much input in his life.

He's feeling thin. Spiritually skinny.

My point is that I got nuttin'.

I got nothing to offer students on college campuses or my cussing golf buddies or the Sunday school class that I teach or my pastor when I meet with him or the young couples without church homes that I counsel and whose weddings I officiate.

Quality input generates quality output. It's a communal thing. It's a we thing.

Some of you are part of my we. Thank you for that. Thank you for your input.

But lack of input leaves us powerless to effect change or make a difference in people's lives.

How's your input quotient these days? How's the we factor?

Doing Less

In recent years I've become more interested in doing less.

But doing things better.

Quality grows. Quality is a magnet for new talent. Quality succeeds, reproduces, becomes all the envy.

To illustrate, there's a certain team of five guys at my church that does awesome work. But they don't let just anyone join the team. You have to show yourself approved -- that is, you have to demonstrate that you possess the requisite gifting, discipline, motivation and teachability.

It's a pretty exclusive group. And highly attractive.

I want in.