The Crown Jewel

Recently I hung out with a lively group of Christian art students at Northwestern University (Evanston, IL).

Art and discourse near the shores of Lake Michigan

I was swept away in a vigorous two-hour conversation with them over a lovely dinner. Why I get to have all the fun, I cannot explain.

Their main concern?

Art just doesn't seem that important to evangelical Christians (exceptions: scrapbooking and music). Beauty is merely frosting on the cake, playing no integral role in our spirituality.

We could, I suppose, write off their complaint as the typical grousing of "misunderstood" artists.

But that would be a mistake.

Art, whether beautiful or arresting, "needs no justification," as Hans Rookmaaker famously said. That is, we should be creative because God is creative. We should love beauty and poetry and music because we are made in the very image of God. 

But for many evangelicals, decades of preoccupation with conservative social issues and "practical" approaches to ministry have crowded out any appreciation for art. . .  and thereby crowded out something of our essential humanity, I would argue.

My hope is that we do not crowd out these young NU artists and their kind. If empowered, they could help transform our physical environs--and our core spirituality--into sacred, crown jewels.

The effect on those outside the kingdom?

I believe they'd be drawn all the more to (and in some cases, repelled more violently from) the Beautiful Savior, Lord of the Nations.

Mattson family Christmas letter 2010

http://ricksnewsletters.blogspot.com/

Blind Spots

As I've gotten older my vision and spiritual intuition seem to have gotten sharper. In fact, I might be able to give you some helpful counsel, if you ask.

The one person I can't figure out, however, is myself. Me, no get.

Think about it: By definition I can't see my own blind spots. Yet, I know they're there. I know something needs attention. I know I need your counsel if I'm to navigate my way through the next stretch of tricky waters--whatever they turn out to be.

It seems to me some people don't know they have blind spots. And they'd probably be devastated if someone told them. I guess mostly we don't tell them, do we.

Socrates admitted his blind spots, and was rewarded for it. The Oracle at Delphi called him the wisest man in the world, because he admitted what he didn't know. He didn't think himself wise.

As we come to each other as colleagues, friends, co-workers, family, may we regard ourselves as teachable. You're able to see my stuff, I'm able to see yours. It's our own stuff--hiding like a vehicle just beyond the range of our side mirrors--that we can't see.

Guacamole Vision

Recently I had lunch with the senior pastor of a church in the "top-100" fastest growing churches in America.

The scope of the church's ministry is impressive--multiple campuses, dozens of missionaries, hundreds coming to faith in Christ.

After chatting for a few minutes at the restaurant, some really serious chips 'n guac arrived at our table, so I figured it was time to ask a tough question.

I was wondering whether he is perceived as an empire builder, and what criticism he faces for it. After all, people can't resist reading the worst motives into a "successful" Christian leader, and shooting him/her down for it in the name of God.

"Yeah, all the time," he said dryly. Like, of course.

"How do you reply to your critics?"

"That's easy. I have a one word answer: Hell."

"Say more."

"I believe in a real place called 'Hell.' And I believe that unless people place their faith in Jesus Christ as their savior, they will go to Hell."

"So. . ."

"So that motivates me big time. I'll do whatever it takes, within Biblical norms, to reach lost people. I'll raise money, build buildings, preach sermons, create fantastic youth ministry space [see my post from last week], start new churches, take over dying churches. . . ."

There was fire in his eyes, urgency in his voice. He layed out a big vision, then asked me to come and do an event at the church.

I was in before the green guac was gone.

Friends, the power of vision--consistent, persistent, dynamic vision--is unstoppable.

Cool. Meaningful.

I had the great privilege of teaching adult ed. at a large church in the south metro (Twin Cities) this semester. On the last Sunday of the series, I spoke from the heart. Here's a chunk of my heart for youth ministry:

1. Church should be cool. It should be fun to come here. You should have a great youth ministry space (they do, actually), loaded to the gills with lights and guitars and games and a sound system. Spend your money here. It will pay dividends to the whole church.

2. But it can't be all toys and pizza and craziness. You gotta deliver content as well.

It has to be both. How many times have I heard adult Christians all over the country complain that there is no substance in their church's youth ministry? 4,293. Approximately.

Yet, don't knock the fun stuff, if you want kids to show up at all. What's better--50 kids in the building, off the streets, having fun, with a chance to grow? Or seven nerds going "deep" with the Lord?

And if we find creative ways to deliver content and engage kids with the gospel of Jesus, maybe they won't check out so fast when they leave high school. Maybe when they're 19 they'll swing by a college campus ministry such as the one I work for.

Myself--I look UP to youth pastors! They are amazing. I love them. I couldn't do what they do. But mostly, the quality of youth ministry at your church and mine is up to us church leaders. WE are the ones who can "set up" the youth ministry. . . or set it down.


My question to you: How's youth ministry going at your church? Is it fun? Spiritually meaningful?

a few good ideas are here: http://www.ehow.com/list_6156169_church-youth-room-decorating-ideas.html

And the Answer Is. . .

The Ganfield Library Cafe is not exactly spacious, with a max occupancy of maybe 30 or 35 (behind the windows, right).

Last Friday morning our discussion group, configured in a tight oval around two small wooden tables, occupied 13 of those spots.

The topic at hand: Was Christina's friend who had converted from Christianity to Islam still in possession of her salvation? The friend had once been a "true" Christian, supposedly. Now, a confessor of the shahada.

12 Carroll University students looked to me to settle the matter.

My job at that moment was to provide the answer, of course. Probably start by saying "The Bible clearly teaches. . . "

Or, I could draw them deeper into the issue by asking them to consider the pros and cons of various solutions.

It seems to me that one of the reasons young people are leaving the church in record numbers is that we tell them a lot of answers. We rob them of the joy of discovery.

Meanwhile, at school and in other spiritualities (or in atheism), they get to talk freely about their doubts, concerns, opinions. Often a new and exciting conversation for young (former) evangelicals.

Back to the coffee shop at Carroll: Eventually, after a lot more dialog, I did give my view of the matter, though not as the answer.

How's the Conversation going at your church/ministry/home?

p.s. The November 2010 issue of Christianity Today has an insightful article about young people leaving the church, entitled The Leavers: Young Doubters Exit the Church. It's also posted on line, though you may need a subscription: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2010/november/27.40.html?start=1

Release and Catch

Recently I went fishing with my buddy M, a middle-aged entrepreneur who runs a successful small business.

At one point M's phone rings at the same time a little walleye hits his jig and minnow.

He takes the call.

It's a former employee chatting it up about his new job. No big deal, right?

Turns out it was a guy M had fired. "You're kidding," I said, screwing up my face.

"Nope. He wasn't getting the job done."

"But he's calling you now to shoot the breeze?"

"I felt terrible letting him go, but I knew it was the right move. I gave him a positive recommendation for a certain type of work that I know he can do well. I just didn't have that kind of work for him. He was calling to thank me."

Note to self: I've supervised a lot of people over the years. And I've made the hard calls, the tough personnel moves. But I wonder whether it was always done with M's spirit of love and compassion for the employee, which in truth is Jesus' spirit of love and compassion.

M landed the walleye, which is now at rest in my freezer.

A Theology of Business?

The Lord has given me the excellent privilege of hanging out with a lot of business people.

How does the church support them in the marketplace?

It seems to me we speak on the front end and the back end of business spirituality, but not much in the middle.

Front end: We teach about acting ethically and how to reach out to colleagues.

Back end: We teach about stewardship of wealth.

In the middle, however, we're not really sure how money is made, nor do we always care to know. Just so the stewardship stuff eventually happens.

What would a theology of business look like?

Assuming the Lord Jesus is interested in business practice as a thing in itself, and not only character and witness (front end), and giving (back end), I offer these categories for starters:

1. A theology of the marketplace: competition, opportunity, investment.
2. A theology of personnel: supervision, development, and "natural" talents (we know what to do with spiritual gifts, but not natural talents).
3.  A theology of profit, ambition, and social consciousness.
4. A theology of business leadership and teamwork.

Integrating evangelical spirituality into the fabric of these practices would take some serious constructive theology. I wonder who's doing this kind of work?

Regal in Chicago

This morning I attended a traditional worship service in Chicago with some good friends.

Upon entering the sanctuary I was greeted with an 11-piece french horn ensemble playing two numbers with booming, moving parts.

Pastors were in robes. Long passages of scripture were read (well). And the robed choir sang a fine piece from sacred literature.

The elderly minister spoke eloquently about religious pluralism, reminding us that the American tendency to dismiss religious differences is actually a devaluation of each faith tradition. "We do Jews no favor," he said, "when we tell them that the distinctives of their faith don't matter. Of course they matter."

 The implication: Actual beliefs of individual religions need to be taken seriously, not glossed over for the sake of false harmony.

I sang "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" with my eyes closed, from memory, with the horns lifting the fourth and final verse into flight: "That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them abideth . . ."

I've been on the road a lot lately, and I miss my church. Grace Church Roseville is contemporary and relevant. People are meeting Jesus there and learning to love him. Families are being transformed.

But today in Chicago God touched my heart through a different style, a different flavor, a different approach to things.

Question: Are you and I flexible enough to appreciate both old and new? Traditional and contemporary?

Option Three

K telling me his faith story

I find that many of the college students I visit with around the country don't know why they believe in the Bible and Jesus.

I guess they formed these beliefs on the authority of parents and pastors, but few students can articulate any other reasons for their faith.

The result is that they tend to shield their religious life from the critique of the university. Either that or expose their beliefs and get slaughtered.

There is both a third and a fourth option, however. I favor the third: Integrate your faith and studies, which of course means owning your faith in a deep sense and having reasons to back it up.

The fourth option isn't much good: Possess a kind of "blind faith" that, despite resistance on campus, blazes forward in strident, ignorant glory, causing much offense while taking solace in being persecuted for the Cause.

Back to option three--integration. This means inviting Jesus into every class, paper, exam and relationship. A small percentage of students I've worked with in collegiate ministry over the years (29 years, to be exact) come equipped out of high school with this mindset. 

Evangelicals should be good at this integration. How could we improve?

Think about it. . .

College students are more interested in thinking than they think they are.

For evangelical students, the subculture in which they've been raised tends to be strong on worship, devotion, service, maybe even outreach.

The missing piece? Biblical/theological grounding.

Families, youth ministries and collegiate ministries do a grave injustice to students when we withhold such grounding. We assume young people are not interested. We say to ourselves, "A.D.D. video game culture trumps theology any day. Why fight it?"

But what if we made Bible study interesting? What if theology and apologetics were made relevant?

Here's the hard part. My generation (and older) has trouble separating theological teaching from a certain form of delivery: lecture.

No wonder students are bored.

But if students are, in fact, more interested in thinking than they (and we) think they are, we need to rehab our delivery system and make scripture and theology. . . engaging.

Yeah, I'm saying the problem is as much our fault as theirs. Folks, I can tell you from personal experience that they (students) are ready to roll. But are we?

Speaking "Up"

Four letter words fly around the golf course where I play like hundreds of errant tee shots.

A river of strong drink disappears into men's guts.

Sometimes they ask me on the 10th hole what I do for work. "I'm in the ministry," I say. "I travel around the country and tell college students about Jesus."

This usually causes massive apologies for all that took place the prior two hours.


No matter. I love these guys. And as much as I "speak up" to them about what I believe, I catch myself, at times, speaking down to them, condescendingly.

Rather, I wish to speak "up" from a posture of service and humility. Or minimally, speak across the table, man to man. This is the way of Christ.

Out with the Old, in with the Old

When I was young I was a rebel and a radical.

Now I'm a radical. Or at least I aspire to be so. 

The rebel in me went the way of James Dean--dead and buried.

The reason?

I never had a cause. Well, except to establish myself as a rebel. I suppose my friends and colleagues saw through this thin motivation, but I never did, not in my younger days.

Radical, on the other hand, remains a noble aspiration for me in middle age. I wish to emulate the radical Jesus who knifed through religious and social strictures to establish the kingdom of God in our midst.

Goodbye rebel. Hello radical.

Would you care to join me?

The Contrarian

According to Conventional Wisdom, there's a set of practices and disciplines to which we all must submit. They are mandatory. No exceptions.

A short list:

1. Sabbath rest
2. Accountability
3. Prayer and Bible study
4. Local church involvement
5. Boundaries on visual inputs
6. Boundaries with the opposite sex

But I'm a contrarian. I work seven days a week because that's what separates the men from the boys.

Nor do I need anyone sticking their nose in my personal business.

I can slide by prayerlessly for days with no discernible difference. As for church involvement, it's overrated--I get plenty of spiritual input from Christian radio and websites.

Yeah, I carry on a little "double life" action around the margins, but no big deal in the grand scheme of things. A man does what he's got to do.

Fact is, I'm unique. I know better than Conventional Wisdom.

How about you?

See you Sept 27

Mentor on Race

Twice in the past year I've spoken publicly on the issue of race. Both times I was shaking in my boots.

Why?

• Fear of offending minority audiences by saying the wrong thing.
• Fear of offending white evangelicals by calling them out.
• No expertise. Why listen to me? I'm a dang rookie in racial reconciliation stuff.

I need a mentor. 

Pastor Warren Carey of Tree of Life Church in Minneapolis has agreed to serve me in this way. I'm getting an education, believe me.

The big Question: Do I actually want this education? Deep in the well of my most basic motivations, I'm not sure I do.

But of course that's exactly why I'm meeting with Warren.

He's gracious with me, and patient.

In return, I'm helping Warren. . . at the golf range.

Mentor Me

In my wisest moments I know what I don't know.

In my sanest moments I know I need help.

Ergo: recruit three mentors.

Mentor #1: Wayne Thyren (TreeHouse Youth Outeach). How he mentors me: Spiritual Director. I have asked him to tell me the naked truth about myself. He has obliged for the past 15 years.

Mentor #2: David Clark (pictured right), Bethel University. How he mentors me: Theology,  philosophy. He helps me interpret the big boys (Kant, Hume, Plato. . . it's a long list) and TRANSLATE for students and faculty.

Without mentors I tend to, well, drift.

Who are your mentors? How do they help? What mentor is missing for you right now?

Next week: My new, exciting mentor #3.

Paying a High Cost

An old friend stopped returning my phone calls.

My intuition, which is accurate 3/4 of the time, tells me that my clumsy attempts to represent Christ to my old friend finally put him off.

Perhaps had I been more straight-forward -- a known quantity, things would be different.

Perhaps had I been more sensitive -- not forcing the conversation, we'd still be talking.

I don't know.

What I do know is that being rejected -- in this case with no explanation -- is tough to swallow. And the other thing I know is that if you and I choose to represent Christ with our lives (imperfectly, to be sure) we will, at times, pay a steep price.

Tongue Unleashed

My life-long friends Kathe and Dave led me in a very specific prayer recently as we cruised in my 2004 Ford Explorer along a country road:

Lord, use us.

Yes, I'm an evangelist/apologist. I'm trained, skilled, etc. YET, it's shocking to me how often my fragile ego puts a gag order on my tongue, insisting that Now's not the time to share Christ. You'll come off as pushy. You'll turn people off. Take more time to love before blurting out something ill-timed and stupid.

Lord, use us.

That day I talked with five people about faith in five separate conversations. Tongue loosed.

Yesterday on the 11th tee box it happened again. My buddy was joking about heaven and hell so I took a chance: But how're you going to GET to heaven, Joe?

He said something about treating people well, and I gave him my most skeptical look. Then we were off to the races, gospel-speaking.

It's a simple prayer: Lord, use me. Use us.

Will you pray that prayer with Kathe, Dave and me this week?

Coming and Going

An impressionable college student from the Midwest attended the 1979 Urbana Mission Convention, and that student was me.

I was fortunate to have a talk at the convention with the Rev. Billy Graham in which he looked directly at me and uttered these words, and I paraphrase:  The scriptural pattern for God's servants has two directions--coming and going. First we come to God in prayer and worship, and then we go out from God in witness to a fallen world. . .

 Nailing the point into my conscience from that evening forward, Mr. Graham made a welcoming gesture with his hands, beckoning me to "Come to God." Then his hawk-like features intensified as he gathered himself and shot his arms abruptly outward, commanding me to "Go forth in Jesus' name."

"Come. Go. Come! GO!! COME!!! GOOOOH," he thundered.

Sure, maybe the other 16,624 delegates in the auditorium overheard our conversation, which I admit was rather one-sided, Mr. Graham being at the podium and I in row 103. No matter. I say he was talking to me.

Friends, will you join me in this pattern of "coming and going," this week? Will you make time for prayer and worship, and then will you share the message of God's love with at least one other person?

I welcome your comments.

Psalm 130 to the Rescue

As mentioned last week, I've been setting the stopwatch on my cell phone most mornings for thirty minutes of worship and intercession. I wish I could say this comes easily for me, being in the ministry and all, but I can't.

Jim Sire has helped me. With instruction from his fine book, Learning to Pray through the Psalms, I've committed Psalm 130 to memory and often employ its incisive words to guide my prayers:

     Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD;
     O Lord, hear my voice.

        Let your ears be attentive
        to my cry for mercy

The "depths" to which the Psalmist refers are probably his own encompassing sin.

Geesh, I can relate.

Folks, we can "pray" this Psalm along with the ancient poet of 3000 years ago, submitting our faults to the Lord, pleading for his mercy. Will you join me in this prayer?

30 Holy Minutes

One of my friends spends 30 minutes/day in intercessory prayer. Through his example I've been challenged to do the same.

That was two months ago.

How's it going so far? I'm inconsistent, and when I do sit down before the Lord my mind easily wanders. Yet, I'm beginning to WANT to be there...

Would you care to join me on this adventure?

Others are way ahead of me as intercessors; I'm totally a novice. Still, if I may offer these suggestions:

1. Start small, maybe with 10-15 minutes/day. Then gradually build up to longer periods.
2. I always set my stopwatch for the time I've committed. Otherwise, I don't have the discipline to follow through. It sounds unspiritual, I know. 
3. Use a Bible. How? I'll talk about this next week.

Your comments are welcome as always. Perhaps you'd share some of your own struggles/ideas/breakthroughs on the topic of intercession, as an encouragement to our readers.

See you in August

Hi folks, My blog has more readership than I ever expected. Thanks for your support!

In August I'll resume posting.

The Acid Test

Here’s why I think “midreach” (speaking to Christians and nonChristians at the same time—see my last three posts below) is so profound:

1. It revives the idea that public speaking (or interactive presentation) is a true art form—carefully crafted, thoroughly prayed over.
2. It is audience-centered. It takes account of who’s listening as the speech act is designed.
3. It tends to avoid (or explain) Christian lingo.
4. It takes the Bible out of the purely “religious” sphere and places it squarely in the pathway of people’s everyday lives, whether they are Christian or not.

 Here’s the acid test: If you attend a presentation or listen to a sermon and you receive something valuable for your own development AND you wish your nonChristian friend were present, you probably just witnessed some good midreach.

On the other hand, if you went away saying, “Whew, good thing Amy (or whomever) didn’t show up today. . . “, well, most of us have thought that a few times.

In my view, doing quality midreach is vital for collegiate ministry (where I work). How about in your ministry/church?

Teaching an early Creed

Apologists often point to 1 Cor 15:3-4 as an early creed that was in use among Christians shortly after the resurrection of Jesus (within 2-5 years).

You may remember that the text speaks of Christ's atoning death, his resurrection and appearances to the twelve.

If the creed goes back as far as we think, it works AGAINST the argument of critics that Jesus as “Son of God,” miracle worker, risen Lord, was invented by the church in subsequent decades. . .

Stop there. Let’s say I’m presenting something like the above material to a youth ministry or collegiate fellowship that is comprised of both Christian (“C”) and nonChristian (“NC”) students, as I regularly do.

The “midreach” approach I’ve been discussing for three weeks aims to give something of value to both C and NC at the same time. And if the crowd is tilted a little more toward one or the other, I wouldn’t adjust much.

In my view, both C and NC students will come to trust this kind of teaching (assuming age-appropriate material) if, over time, they are learning something new that matters to their life.

And eventually they will bring their friends.

Question for you: Could some form of midreach be a helpful approach at your church/ministry?

Next week: my list of descriptors for what I consider to be powerful midreach.

Midreach part 2

Here is an example of what I call “midreach” (see last week’s post for more context):

The gospel writer Mark presents Jesus to his audience in a way that hardly distinguishes between believers and non-believers.

Believers can find comfort in a series of healings and exorcisms in the first few chapters:

Ch 1: Simon’s mother-in-law and a leper are healed.

Ch 2:  A paralytic is forgiven and healed.

Ch 3: A man with a shriveled hand is healed on the Sabbath.

Ch 5: The Gerasene demoniac is cleansed of his demons.

Ch 5: A bleeding woman is healed and Jairus’s daughter is raised from the dead.

Non-believers learn about Jesus’ power, authority and compassion in these same stories.

So Mark is building up the faith of those who already possess it, and making his case for Jesus to those who don’t.

All at the same time.

In my view, Mark is a master at midreach. What can we learn from his example?

Midreach

“Inreach” is fairly well defined in my mind as ministry that seeks to bring believers to spiritual maturity.

“Outreach” is also fixed in my thinking as ministry that extends the gospel to the surrounding community and nations.

What I’m trying to figure out, however, is “midreach.”

Thus far, I’ve come up with this: Midreach is both. It’s communicating Biblical ideas in a way that is compelling to both Christians and nonChristians (and those on the fence).

As I struggle to define and master the art of midreach (in the context of college campus ministry), I’d love to hear your thoughts and suggestions.

p.s., descriptive words would be more helpful to me than sending me links—thanks.

Jesus outside the box

These days I am writing my own commentary on the gospel of Mark.

Am I finding fresh meanings in Mark? Writing something never before written?

Not really.

Scholars have been conducting a weighty conversation about the NT for the past 2000 years, and I’m simply joining in the fun. It would be quite dangerous to swerve outside the lines of this tradition.

Despite drawing on professional resources for my study, Jesus cannot be circumscribed. He continues to amaze me, baffle me, and exceed (or contradict) my expectations.

He often doesn’t do what he’s "supposed" to do, which makes me think I'm missing something.

Sponsoring Downward, Outward

I have a radical idea. It’s not going to apply in every situation—I realize that.

But here it is: Church is not really for me.

Don’t get me wrong. I am HIGHLY committed to Grace Church Roseville.

What I’m saying, however, is that my job as a 50-something is not so much to receive as it is to give. Sharon and I give a lot of time and money to GCR, but we don’t expect the church to cater to our tastes, style, preferences, needs.

GCR must—absolutely must—reach out to the community. That means sermons aren’t going to “feed” me every week. Christian education is not going to be aimed precisely at me. Women’s ministries are not going to be a bullseye for Sharon. Music styles may not cater to our preferences.

Two implications of what I’m suggesting:

1)    At middle age, Sharon and I should be capable of nourishing ourselves spiritually from the word of God. Yes, I listen closely to the fine sermons at GCR and I try to obey what I hear. But I don’t expect Pastor Jason (pictured above) to have me primarily in mind when he preaches.

2)    I’m no longer a guest at GCR. On the contrary, I’m a host, a sponsor. My job is to help our church connect with young generations and new people. When stuff is aimed at me, I figure we’re missing the mark.

Folks, I’m not trying to be a martyr here. I’m just saying the church must constantly renew itself or risk losing its Great Commission.

Your thoughts?

Adaptability

In his excellent book, The Rise of Evangelicalism, historian Mark Knoll (Wheaton College) portrays the early evangelical movement of 18th century Europe and colonial America as entrepreneurial, adaptable, revivalist, experiential. . . radical.

This in contrast to the “creaking mechanisms” of established state religion.

Knoll observes: “By setting aside earlier religious forms, the evangelicals did not think they were setting aside the faith once delivered, but rather adjusting it to the new social realities of the age” (p149).

I have a feeling I'd have liked these guys: Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield, John Wesley, Charles Wesley.

Knoll's account of their ministries is quite enlightening, and I'd recommend the book to you.

Tradition or Change?

My friend R is more conservative than me. My good buddy P is more Catholic than me (right, since I’m Protestant).

In lengthy discussions with both this past year, a critical issue has arisen—though from different angles: the place of tradition.

Each friend in his own way is telling me that church tradition keeps us from wandering outside the boundaries of the church historic—that is, outside the boundaries of orthodoxy.

I get that part (they may dispute that☺).

My reply is that one of the best things evangelicals bring to the table is flexibility in method. We can do things differently than we did yesterday in order to meet today’s ministry needs. We’re highly adaptable.

Example: I am a supporter of changing worship styles (music, order of service, electric/acoustic, graphics, architecture, lighting, décor, readings, liturgy, etc) to put worship into the “heart” language of various segments of a congregation: old, young, ethnic, etc.

Which way do you lean:

• Preserve tradition? Or:

• Make changes for local contexts? Or:

• A little of both?

p.s. My friend L lives in country music territory. He thinks his church should consider a country music styled service. OK, I happen to like that idea. . .

The New Apologetic

Last week at Sonoma State University (CA) three “apologetics” converged like streams to a river:

1.    The Free Thinkers group pressed me with questions such as “Are miracles rational?” and “Why does God never heal an amputee?”

They wanted evidence, even proof, of God—“classic” apologetics.

2.    The InterVarsity group provided me with a different kind of proof of God’s presence: the embodied apologetic of love and hospitality.

Rationalists, don’t sneer. These days the best argument for the truth of Christianity on college campuses is the Holy Spirit supernaturalizing the community of faith.

3.    My GLBT seminar. The current generation’s first impulse is to include, not exclude. What does this mean regarding gays and lesbians? Hopefully, I helped 25 young leaders think it through.

Stream #1 above represents modernism. It’s what I grew up on.

Streams 2 and 3 are more postmodern approaches to apologetics. They’re about relationships, power and political agendas.

Think of your church. Which kind of apologetic does it offer? Which is needed?

I invite your comments.

Toast in the chapel

Get this: One day I show up for chapel in the gorgeous theater at North Central University* to hang with my son, Ryan, who studies music at the school.

“Who’s leading worship today, buddy boy?” I ask.

“One Accord.”

“They any good?”

He just grins at his senile father.

Five minutes later OA begins playing in front of 600 peers and professors, appearing demure and casual and unimpressed with their own celebrity. The songs have no dramatic modulations or big endings. There are no “inspirational” solos, no heavenly smiles.

Sandi Patty and Steve Green this isn’t.

By the second tune, I’m toast. I’m taken down, captured, disarmed, humbled. OA is too good, too attuned, too understated, too mature musically and spiritually for me to resist, nor do I want to.

Curiously, all the musicians seem to be watching something as they play—something they assume is happening in the theater which is beyond their control.

I finally see it too: The Lord walking among his people.

*****

After chapel I bump into music professor Dave Pedde who coaches OA. Late 20s, gelled hair, piercings?

Nope. Dave’s about my age, silver mane, pianist.

Two things stand out to me about OA:

1.    How astonishingly well coached they are.

2.    How little their music/look/feel (the whole package) resembles their coach’s generation.

Think about how tough this is to pull off. Boomer-run institution sponsors boomer coach who trains—but then releases young people to do their thing in their own way, for their peers.

I find this very gutsy.

Does your church have the courage to do the same?

I invite your comments.

* North Central University is located in Minneapolis, associated with the Assemblies of God denomination.

A Titanic Change

In his excellent book, Emerging Hope, Jimmy Long reminds us that the young generations in America represent a shift from Enlightenment modernism to postmodernism.

In Long’s view (and mine), this is a change of titanic proportions.

It means, among other things, that “Those who think that in due time [young people] will ‘grow up’ and look like everyone else should prepare to have unfulfilled expectations.”  (UnChristian, p22)

I believe those of us 45 and older can slip into denial quite easily about the identity of the new generation. We think they’re pretty much like us—aside from the tattoos and iPads.

Perhaps we’d rather not think that the arduous sweat equity that went into establishing the evangelical flag the past 50 years will be wasted on our children and grandchildren.

All that hard work! It can give us a sense of entitlement. It can blind us to the changing realities of a new day, a new audience, a new calling.

I believe the new calling is to bridge the gap between old and young, modern and postmodern, traditional and contemporary. Thing is, we have to realize that THIS particular gap is not traversed by walking across the room. More like flying to another planet.

I invite your comments.

Radical Divergence

If you’re 45 years of age and up (like me), I have news for you: The younger generation of evangelicals is not going to learn our ways and grow into maturity to look like us. They’re never going to get it, as we define “it.”

They’re not going to take over our (white) churches like sons and daughters assuming the reigns of a family business and run things like we have.

They’re not going to start dressing up for Sunday services or tuck in their shirts or sign up for a lot of committee work or revive the old hymns (at least not in the old forms).

They’re not going to fight the same battles that divided their parents’ churches on issues such as charismatic gifts, women’s roles, eschatology, and the social gospel. They’re into inclusion, not drawing lines in the sand.

They value vulnerability, personal stories and admissions of imperfection. The bigger-than-life man of God who reigns sovereignly over a local parish, who preaches with doubt-defeating conviction and shows no weakness, will not be impressive to them.

But the leader who shares from the heart and speaks across the table rather than downward from a pedestal, will connect. . .
------------
I could say so much more. Another time.

But WHY the radical changes? What’s driving the new thinking? The new methods?

You tell me.

•    If you’re 35 and under, tell us what’s going on. Us old-sters need to hear from you.

•    If you’re 45 and up, what are your thoughts about the younger generation?

•    If you’re 35-45, which way do you lean—younger or older? Why?

I’ll share my own thoughts on the subject next week.

The Camel's Nose

My friend Dr. Bob Osburn at the University of MN http://www.wilberforceacademy.org/ notes how the arrival of postmodernity actually creates space for Christians on campus in a backwards sort of way:

“There is little doubt that postmodernism has been the camel’s nose under the tent, and, thus, alternative, nontraditional worldviews like Christianity have found a place to enter and engage the academic conversation.”



In other words, every group on campus is supposed to have a place at the table to speak. Even Christians.

A fabulous opportunity for us!

But wait a second. Many of our sharpest students are not sitting at the table at all. Instead, they’re attending Christian colleges (including my son).

Question: Do you think the church has a vision for reaching the secular university? If so, are we willing to send our best and brightest students there as missionaries?

Do it with Style

I’m trying to confuse you. Last week’s post was a “never happens” dialog between Modern and Postmodern, that happens (implicitly) all the time.

Hopefully, you were not happy with either side.

Moderns tend to be overly impressed with their own knowledge and institutions. Let’s not get stuck there.

Postmoderns sometimes fall into cynicism and relativism. That’s no good either.

My suggestion? If your church wants to grow by reaching people 35 and under, you have to go postmodern STYLISTICALLY. Skip the cynicism and relativism but work toward these changes:

• Focus on community, personal experience, interactive learning, stories and modeling transparent spirituality.
• Preach more in the gospels, Acts, Psalms and OT narratives.

SO, if you're 45 and up, join me in trying to show some stylistic flexibility.

If you're 35 and under, you already get it. Postmodern style comes naturally to you.

If you're 35-45, you'll be in power, soon, in your church (if you aren't already). Stylistically, which way will you go?

Pomo vs. Mo

A hackneyed, stock conversation in the anthropology dept between Postmodern and Modern that never actually occurs. Except everyday.

Pomo: You “Mo’s” have been running the show for 400 years, and we’re going to put an end to it.

Mo: What do you mean?

Pomo: It started with your European claims to know absolute truth. Then you forced yourselves on MANY native cultures. It’s called colonialism. Ever heard of it?

Mo: Wait a second. I admit, abuses took place. But most were carried out by European governments and their armies, not by Christians. There’s a difference between the true followers of Jesus and those who use religion to oppress others.

Pomo: Don’t deny your own history, Mo. If you’re saying that the political motivation to expand, to colonialize, to force-feed religion on other cultures didn’t come from the church historic, which included many sincere believers, where did it come from?

Mo: Before you impose your understanding of history on me too forcefully, Pomo, you should know that there are now more Christians in the developing world than in the west.

Pomo: So the end justifies the means? I suppose the next thing you’ll say is that God is the one who gave you this country. Damages along the way were merely “collateral.”

Mo: Unfortunately, we don’t agree among ourselves on this point right now, so we’re not prepared to give an answer.

Pomo: That’s what I thought.

Mo: Don’t get too smug with me, Pomo. You’ve made a HUGE mistake yourself: You’ve  become a relativist. Ironically, relativism ultimately means, “anything goes.” And if anything goes, even colonialism would be acceptable.

Pomo: I never said anything goes. I believe we should respect and be tolerant of all human beings!

Mo: Except Christians.

Pomo: They don’t deserve respect. They’ve dominated for centuries. Now it’s time to take away their power and re-distribute it to the powerless.

Mo: That’s what’s maddening about you. You don’t bother to make a strong argument against my position—probably because you can’t. You simply run me over, all the while spouting off about “respect."

Pomo: Mo, it’s called colonialism. How does it feel?

Question: What’s Mo’s next move?

The 500 Foot Wall

Derek and Amber are postmodern college students. They have entered your church for the first time, hoping to find spiritual reality, but a 500-foot wall appears to be blocking their way into the sanctuary.


From the “narthex,” you spot D and A. They look out of place here at church—baggy clothes, tattoos, tongue rings, I-pods. Confused yet confident.

An unmistakable 500-foot barrier separates them from you.


I believe the barrier is real. It’s a cultural barricade, actually. Compare the tendencies of these two cultures:

 

Question: What do we do with this 500-foot wall of separation?

Bob Osburn on whether to send students to a secular or Christian college:

[Dr. Osburn serves as executive director of the Wilberforce Academy, which trains students to be redemptive change agents in their home societies http://www.wilberforceacademy.org/. ]

Rick:    Why should a Christian student consider attending a secular college?

Bob:    Exposure to a wide range of views and voices.  This is essential if students are going to recognize how distinctive is the Christian voice in public affairs. 

Think of it this way: A Christian college (not a bad place at all; I had one son who graduated from a nearby Christian college!) can be like an echo chamber where all the voices sound the same.  There is nothing distinctive about them.

By contrast, the secular university is a cacophony, and pretty soon you begin to recognize how different and unique the Christian perspective is because it sounds so different from the others.  Speaking personally, my three most exciting years growing in Christ were my sophomore through senior years at the University of Michigan after I became a Christian during my freshman year. 

Rick:   Any reasons not to attend a secular college?

Bob:   There are plenty of reasons not to.  The multiplicity of voice and views can subtly relativize one’s worldview, and there are you: anchorless.  It happens to many. 

Perhaps a bigger risk is that a Christian student hangs out with friends who, rather than being intellectually engaging, are morally degrading.  The effect can be tragic, unless one is solidly anchored in Christ.  So the risks are both intellectual as well as social.

Tribalism and Your Church

Does the name Ludwig Wittgenstein mean anything to you?

It should. Wittgenstein was a mid-20th century philosopher who gave us “language games.” That is, the way communities use language is similar to a game, and every community gets to make up its own rules of the game.

Two other philosophers of note, John Dewey and Richard Rorty, added a pragmatic twist to language games: Every group should strive to do what works for them. There’s no need to conform your group’s “rules” to any external standard, such as objective truth.

After all, no such standard exists.

On college campuses, this whole landscape is often called tribalism. What it means for Christian students/faculty is that we’ve been relegated to being one tribe among many. One shaper/creator of reality among all the rest. One language game alongside dozens of others.

Tribalism has gone beyond the postmodern university and has settled into mainstream culture. Thus the church is one of the many tribes out there, like one of a thousand flocks of geese, nothing more.

What does this mean for outreach? For evangelism at your church and mine? Two possibilities:

• We could work to regain our rightful "Voice of Authority" in order to shape our culture from a position of strength. This choice seems a dead-end to me. On campus, for example, it rarely if ever works.

• Accept our cultural demotion, act like one of the tribes, and commend Christian faith to a needy world from a posture of humility. Talk across the table with neighboring tribes rather than down to them.

In my view the Christian tribe should be the most humble, the most truthful, the most respectful, the most daring, the most artistic, the most fun, the most intellectual, the most emotional, the most supernatural, the most caring, the most interracial--the most compelling. . . of any tribe on the planet.

These qualities would revolutionize our outreach. What do you think?

The Rule of Non-Imposition

One of the inviolable doctrines of the postmodern university is what I call the rule of non-imposition. It means that no group on campus can impose its understanding of the world on any other group.

Picture the university as a huge bowling alley, with every lane occupied by a different group. These groups, or “tribes” as they’re often called, could be ethnic, religious, political or departmental. The rule of non-imposition, which is bundled together with other concepts such as tolerance and respect, forbids tribes from critiquing each other.

“So what?” we may say. People with similar backgrounds/interests hang together in groups, and the groups are supposed to be nice to each other. Not too profound.

The profound part is where it all came from and what it means for the deep epistemology of the university—and the marketplace and church, ten years later.

What a second, the ten years is up, it’s here . . .

QUESTION:  Do you see tribalism in your town, job setting, campus? As a Christian, do you feel the pressure of the “rule of non-imposition”?

NEXT WEEK: the origins of tribalism and the RADICAL implications for campus ministry—and your church.

To Inculcate or Evangelize?

The danger in giving parental advice is manifold. First, it implies a direct cause-effect relationship between parenting techniques and children’s behavior. Second, it can leave parents feeling guilty over wayward children, often falsely so. Third, since Sharon and I got lucky with our own kids, it gives the impression we really knew what we were doing.

With those qualifiers, I feel only slightly safer saying this: Christian parents should think more about evangelizing their kids, less about inculcating them.

I’m thinking here of incremental, sensitive evangelism that listens carefully, loves fully, prays frequently and shares openly. Evangelism that is 100% individualized to the person—whether your little 5-year old explorer, 15-year old wing-spreader, or late-teen wild oats sower.

The crucial difference is this: choice.

Those who inculcate say in essence to their kids: “You don’t really have a choice in the matter. You’re growing up Christian, and that’s that.”

Those who evangelize say something a little different: “You DO have a choice in the matter, and we’re doing all we can to make the Christian pathway attractive and challenging to you.”

Of parental influence, Smith and Denton say this: “The best social predictor, although not a guarantee, of what the religious and spiritual lives of youth will look like is what the religious and spiritual lives of their parents do look like.” (Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers, p261).

(Folks, is our own spiritual modeling drawing kids in, or pushing them away?)

• When the evangelized come to me at age 18, most are ready to roll in ministry.

• When the inculcated show up, often they have little ownership of their faith. Some need a crisis and re-conversion. Others. . . well, they never do show up.

I recognize the inherent risk in what I’m suggesting. But I believe “evangelism” pays off more often than “inculcation.”

Next blog topic: College Campus: what it’s really like out there.

On the Atheist’s Lap

My daughter Kelli was an inquisitive, expansive thinker right out of the chute. I remember one time she asked me why God wouldn’t show himself if he was actually in the room with us. And why Florida was so far from Minneapolis.

When atheist Benjamin Pierce came to dinner one evening sporting a long beard, Kelli hopped into his lap and stroked the face fuzz for a minute before putting it straight to Ben: “Why don’t you believe in God?”

Ben looked at me apologetically as if his response might forever destroy a virgin intellect. I merely shrugged. At the time I was in an active state of disobedience from the ideology of Christian parents sheltering their kids from worldly influences and alternative belief systems.

It started with my decision in Kelli’s infancy to listen carefully to the parenting advice proclaimed by conservative talk radio and fundamentalist literature—then do precisely the opposite.

So I sheltered her from the most powerful forces that seemed to be pushing my professional audience—college students—out of the house of God: forced church attendance, boring sermons, hoop-jumping through confirmation classes, stringent restrictions on music and clothes and friends, and coerced Bible reading.

My wife Sharon is more temperate than me. She thought I took this whole approach to parenting too far. She’s probably right, I went a bit overboard.

I taught Kelli a non-compartmentalized (integrated) spirituality—namely, that sports and music and dancing and decorating her room were not “neutral” events, spiritually speaking, but rather, fun activities created by God for our enjoyment. Also, that Jesus would be her faithful companion everywhere she went.

My belief was that if a little girl would simply learn to have fun with Jesus, and nothing else, she’d probably grow into a fuller understanding of God and his ways later in life—because she’d want to.

I sought to evangelize, not inculcate. I’ll write about what I think is the difference, next week.

Permissive Parenting

Citing two separate studies, Christianity Today magazine reported recently that 60-70% of young adults who were active in church as teenagers are spiritually “disengaged” by age 23 (Ja ‘10, p24).

I attribute these alarming statistics, in part, to extremes in Christian parenting, both strict and permissive (see my post of last week on strict parenting).

Some of you have protested that I oversimplify the picture, that there are spiritual and cultural forces, not to mention genetic dispositions, at work in our children that even excellent parenting will not overcome. And that the reverse is true: failed parenting surely does not guarantee failed kids.

I would agree. But I hope this will not drive us to fatalism or prevent us from learning all we can, and doing all we can, to raise godly children—whether our own or the children of friends for whom we act as unofficial, occasional, moms and dads.

With these qualifiers, then, I believe the best of more permissive parenting looks something like this:
•    Maximizing kids’ decision-making, as is age-appropriate.
•    Emphasizing values more than rules.
•    Providing incremental exposure to nonChristian viewpoints.

This overall direction of parenting has a good chance of producing kids who feel empowered and respected, who think for themselves and make wise decisions, and take responsibility for their own actions. They will tend to view God as loving and gracious.

But permissive parenting gone overboard gives too much freedom too early, fails to teach and guide properly, and especially, is lax on discipline. Parental responsibility is abdicated. Thus, “tail wags dog,” kids run wild, and their faith is given up either through apathy or the pursuit of gratifications that were rarely curbed by parents.

So whether you are an actual parent, “surrogate” parent of sorts in your neighborhood or church, or simply imagining yourself a parent, do you lean left or right? Permissive or strict? Tell us your story. Next week I’ll tell mine.

Strict Parenting, and two fine resources

“Strict,” of course, is a relative term. Strict parenting could range from being simply conservative and attentive to highly rigid, even oppressive.

Following are some benefits and dangers, in my opinion, of strict Christian parenting.

First the good news:
•    Parents establish a moral/spiritual foundation in the home.
•    They instill a sense of confidence and well-grounded identity in their children.
•    They mix discipline with tenderness and grace.

Results in kids' lives. . .
•    They learn to respect authority, traditional values.
•    They're able to stand for truth, knowing right and wrong.
•    They grow up to be hard workers, dependable friends, and are able to succeed in life.

But strict parents should watch out for these extremes:
•    Failing to give appropriate freedom as kids grow older.
•    Too much “telling,” not enough give and take.
•    Anger at liberal society spilling over into parenting.
•    Anti-intellectual, “blind faith” approach to spirituality.
•    Insecurity over parental authority causing arbitrary decisions, lack of clear rationale for words/actions.

Results in kids’ lives. . .
•    Feeling stifled, smothered. Can't wait to "get out from under."
•    Adopting performance-based spirituality to please parents, God.
•    Viewing God as disciplinarian, parole-officer.
•    Going off to college and losing their faith—that is, their parents’ faith.

These ideas are a slice from my church seminar,  “Preparing your kids for college.”

Two fine resources on the topic: The First Year Out: Understanding American Teens after High School, by Tim Clydesdale;  and Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers, by Christian Smith. I highly recommend both.

Your comments are again welcome. Next time I’ll focus on permissive parenting. And then I have some stories to tell.

Preparing kids for college

Depending on which statistics you believe, the rate of Christian students losing their faith in college ranges from 40-80%. Whatever the exact figure, I can tell you what I’ve seen in my 28 years of campus ministry: it happens “a lot.”

Going AWOL from God in college often happens in two ways:

Kids from strict backgrounds start partying. They’ve been waiting a long time for their moment of freedom, and now they're off to the races! They may also experiment with nonChristian belief systems in college, due (at times) to lack of intellectual engagement during their high school years.

Secondly, kids from more permissive homes. . . start partying. Never well-grounded in a biblical faith, they just drift away with the postmodern tide. You never see them at campus ministry meetings or in church. They just vanish.

Within evangelical circles, I find a spectrum of parenting styles, ranging from permissive to strict, and everything in between. What do you think are some of the benefits/dangers of permissive parenting and strict parenting for getting kids ready for college?