For KC Wahe - 10 Things

My friend KC - asked for this. Scratch the part about George Bush.

A Glimpse of the Kingdom

Ever wonder what the world would look like, if people really acted out what they believed? This might be a glimpse:

Sugar Cube Missions, We Minister Here

In elementary school in California, everyone studies the Missions. I did it, and so have my daughters. When I was a kid, we built our Mission models our of sugar cubes, and you got sick making your Mission, because you ate more of the construction materials than you used. Now, you can build your Mission out of styrofoam; not very environmentally friendly. Even the mission of building Missions has changed. That's life, just about everything changes.

There is much buzz in church circles these days about what it really means to be "missional", and its not about sugar cubes versus styrofoam.

Last Sunday, my wife and I had the rare opportunity to just sit and talk for several hours after lunch with an old (ok, not really old) friend who is a pastor, and to swap ideas about the church, being a pastor, and what it might mean to embrace things missional. He has written a book about such things, even. The thoughts below are from Tod, my good friend. They help to illuminate this conversation.

Missional basically means...we, the church, see ourselves as an extension of God's mission in Christ to the world. Jesus said, "Just as the Father sent me, so I am sending you." To be missional is to see oneself as a "sent" person or community.

So, like the missions of California, we, a particular people in a particular place (in the case of my church, Hollywood) see ourselves as God's mission to a particular people (those surrounding our church) in a particular place. The difference between the "missions" of California and our "missional church" is that there is no "mother church" that sent us, but that we believe, like Paul himself, that we are "sent" by God through the Spirit's call in our setting to this particular place.

It pretty important to note that this is a shift historically and theologically backward toward the first century church from the model so many older mainline churches, including ours and other great 20th Century churches have had over the years. These once great, tall steeple churches, saw themselves not as "missions" but as "Mother Churches" who did the sending of "missionaries" to the "uttermost part of the world."

Its upside down from what our old church model was. Time to break out a new model.

So, we can frame up the discussion like this: Missional is: "We Minister Here". The three key questions to this discussion are then:

"Who is We?"

"What is Minister?"

"And, where is Here?"

So these are the kinds of questions, our church will need to embrace, struggle with, and work together to define in the weeks and months ahead.

I am excited for the journey, and for the conversation.

Seeking Help, Seeking Truth

Picture this. A “tall steeple” city church, founded at the turn of the 20th century in a fledgling suburb of Los Angeles. During the 1940s and 50s, the congregation grew substantially, and was nationally recognized as one of the larger protestant churches in the nation. It was also known for its rather remarkable influence in Christian circles, raising up pastoral and lay leaders that have literally affected the spiritual complexion of the nation, and to a lesser extent, the world.

Through the 1960s, 1970s and 80s this church continued as a center of “sending ministry”, and continued a program of raising up leaders, pastors, and missionaries.

During the 1990s, and into the early years of this century, this church began to struggle with vision and leadership. It held a somewhat uncomfortable place, in an increasingly gritty urban setting, yet largely populated by more affluent suburban congregants. After a number of years of a successful and emotionally healthy senior pastorate, problems developed in new pastoral leadership that lead to a painful and protracted church split and the resignation of a number of senior staff. During this time, many congregants left, either exhausted from infighting, or seeking other “choices” in a Christian subculture that mirrors the broader American culture of consumerism. The successes of prior years just did not seem to work anymore.

This is not a new story. This is one that is being told over and over, around the US in many mainline denominations. Once vital and healthy congregations grow smaller, older, and increasingly irrelevant to the communities surrounding them.

And what for the future of this grand church? Continued stasis, or a gradual decline? Will there be a new time, a new era for this church. Can this once proud, dignified, successful place of ministry turn the corner? What transitions are ahead; what are the once “sacred things” that will need to be sacrificed, and what new ideas, that often feel strange and new, should be embraced? Is transformation possible, is there a new future?

The way to new life, to restoration and healing in this church seems fraught with potential pitfalls. In the sometimes complex culture of churches, it is easy to form incorrect perceptions, and then to make leadership decisions that later prove to be disastrous. Wisdom is a commodity in leadership that is much spoken of and sought after, but one that is also in very short supply in the greater church today.

What is the way forward? For a church long recognized for faithful proclamation of the Word, the primary guiding light must be found within the mystery of the Scriptures. The same events, both ordinary and miraculous, of thousands of years ago will provide guidance for the road ahead, even in an age of global travel, urban blight, sexual confusion, and virtual relationships.

Our hope is simply found hidden within the Word. For us all, every last one, even today. A tired woman at a well, confronted by a Savior who strangely knew of her whole life. Friends sitting on a rooftop, lowering their sick friend in front of a Man they hoped could heal him. A prodigal son, long lost, welcomed home to a family party, without recrimination. Frightened men, huddled in a room, almost hiding, confronted by a risen Lord. In these stories and parables are found our future. Renewal, regeneration. Hope. Healing. Renewed vision for the future.

We are here, in Houston, in part to continue to find ways to illumine the search.

Heading Forth

On Wednesday morning, I am going with three of my church friends, to experience this.

My hope is simple; that through our participation and reflection, and mostly through the stories we tell as we return home and the relationships we continue to build, that our church might be built up, strengthened, and encouraged to try new ideas, solely for the sake of the Kingdom.

That's all I really want. More soon.

My Wordless Reflection

Lets Stop Waiting

Stories to Tell

Several months ago, I had lunch with a man from half a world away. Blaise Beboua is a doctoral student at Fuller Seminary. I have never met a more gentle soul. His passion is for the urban church in Africa. Stories like his are the reason I love the work that is ongoing at Fuller.

There are lots of stories like that of Blaise........have a look.

Jesus told lots of stories. In the end, its the stories of redemption that matter.

Stop This Train, Thankful for the Ride

This is a picture of me and my Dad, circa 1967; I was nine years old. This train of life, its moving fast.

Mom is gone, and Dad is 87; he spends each day mostly sleeping. He really does not know much of what is going on around him; having dissolved into a world of dementia since my Mom's passing.

This has been an emotional weekend for me. My life is so full, and I rarely stop to recognize the weight of grace in my little world. And yet, I am not entirely satisfied. What in the world is wrong with me? Yesterday, I sat with my Dad, and listened to him attempt to piece together memories from 50 years ago.

And then today, we put our youngest girl on the bus to camp today. I held her in my arms as she walked out the door today, and said a short prayer. Something like, "Lord, thank you for Heather, go with her to camp, keep her safe, and show yourself to her in way she does not expect. Amen."

And so, one goes off to camp. One stays home, and was off to the beach today with friends; an emerging life of independence - the world ahead of her. My wife and I went to the park in town for a summer evening concert - a band called "The Grateful Dads"; a bunch of Dad's from town that can really rock the house, including the drummer Peter, who works with me at the office. My whole office staff showed up to watch Peter and his band play. I am surrounded by fun, amazing, and gifted people.

Across town, a friend lies in hospital after cancer surgery; a time to complete reassess all that is important in life. She has six children. We are hopeful for her recovery. This train, it just keeps moving.

Just the other day, I heard this song, playing on my daughter's IPOD. I dissolved into tears:

"Stop this train
I wanna get off
And go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
But honestly,
won't someone stop this train?

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game
To find a way to say that life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said "help me understand"
He said "turn sixty-eight
You renegotiate

Don't stop this train
Don't for a minute change the place you're in
And don't think I couldn't ever understand
I tried my hand John, honestly we'll never stop this train"

This is a song by John Mayer, a guy who is twenty years my junior, but who completely understands some of the mystery of this life.

I am thankful for this ride.

Jesus He Knows Me

After 16 years, Phil Colins satire is still right on track. This makes me feel quite sad about the TBN crowd.

My Simpsons Avatar

A good friend sent me this - my Simpsons Avatar. I love the t-shirt, and minimal hair. Thank goodness there is no significant spare tire.

I am so touched......

I Can Hardly Wait!

Becoming Agnostic

Doubt can be an overpowering force. It can also be attention getting. In my prior post I discussed my initial reactions to the article of William Lobdell of the LA Times.

As it turns out, Mr. Lobdell is getting lots of media attention, and feedback from readers. Today he was interviewed on NPR's Day to Day. Have a listen.

The LA Times had an interactive chat on his article here. Noted below are excerpts from the chat containing comments by Mr. Lobdell.

It turns our that Mr. Lobdell is a "long-time fan" of Christopher Hitchins. My friend Mark Roberts has much to say about Christopher Hitchins, having debated him on radio recently.

Mr. Lobdell has, what seems to be to be understandable indignation about the Catholic church. He states, "One of the biggest disappointments for me was the incredibly few number of priests and bishops who reported child molesters they knew were in their midst without first being contacted by attorneys, the media or authorities. It's the exact opposite of what the Gospel -- and our secular laws -- say to do." Amen to that.

When asked about his feelings about loosing his faith, Mr. Lobdell replies, "A) Sad B) Angry C) Liberated D) Confused E) Uneasy". This to me is fascinating. I would love to learn more about these feelings.

When asked about home churches, which the LA Times also recently covered, Mr. Lobdell offers, "The younger generation really insists on a real faith and not something contained in buildings. Though it has some drawbacks, I think it would eliminate some of the problems inherent in an unchecked power structure." I agree; this is Missional Church at its best!

Another observation worthy of merit: "Very generally, the churches that seemed to work the best -- that, at least in my opinion -- carried out the Gospel the best were small, poor churches, both Catholic and Protestant." Again, a thoughtful response.

And finally, this: "I've covered a lot of non-religious stories, but I traditionally never got more vicious hate mail than from people of the faith -- probably because they believe so much is at stake. This is a phenomenon attested to by religion writers across the country. But for whatever reason, this story provoked a different response. It was almost entirely loving and caring and gentle, whether from Christians, Jews, Muslims, agnostics or atheists."

This comment about mean spirited people of faith made me think about another recent event in my own life.

I think that if Bill Lobdell lived across the fence from me, we might spent a lot of time hanging out together. I so appreciate his honesty, his willingness to be truthful. He has not shut the door to things of faith, but he has admitted his struggles. I would not want to make him my project, or make him think like me. I would like to be his friend, no strings attached.

Bill Lobdell, I wish you well on your journey. May it find you, someday, again following Christ, but in a way that for you feels real, and honest, and redemptive.

Doubt, Fear, and Faith

There was a remarkable article in the Los Angeles Times today about matters of faith. It does not end happily, and that is ok.

But it is a completely honest assessment of things of faith, and a stirring indictment of the failure of both certain Catholics and Protestant Evangelicals to deliver on the real message of the Christ they purport to follow.

William Lobdell is a writer for the Times who found faith in Christ in 1989, and began a journey, first of mission to right the wrongs of the mainstream media in covering the errors of the church, and later a painful season spent reporting on both the sins of evangelicals and Catholics. Mr. Lobdell spent much of the early parts of this decade reporting on the ongoing sexual abuse scandal of the Catholic church, and witnessed up close the pain of the victims, along with the complicity of the leadership of the Catholic church. He also reported on the inner workings of the Trinity Broadcasting network, including the work of Benny Hinn, a televangelist faith healer.

Over time, the emotional weight of his reporting created a crisis of faith for Mr. Lobdell, as he describes in the article:

"My soul, for lack of a better term, had lost faith long ago - probably around the time I stopped going to church. My brain, which had been in denial, had finally caught up. Clearly, I saw now that belief in God, no matter how grounded, requires at some point a leap of faith. Either you have the gift of faith or you don't. Its not a choice. It can't be willed into existence. And there's no faking it if you're honest about the state of your soul."

As it turns out, all the reporting and interaction with the ugly underbelly of the church resulted in Mr. Lobdell's abandonment of his faith.

I have been thinking about this article all day. Wondering about William Lobdell, about the church he was a part of, but then decided to stop attending. Did anyone call him when he missed a few Sundays? I thought about his family, and how they are doing. I wondered if he was a part of any form of genuine Christian community, a place where he could ask hard questions, and be loved in the midst of his struggle and doubt. And not be judged for his doubt. This might have helped, but also might not have made the difference in his abandonment of faith. Not much is for sure.

And then I thought about the primary moving force in all the dysfunction that Mr. Lobdell witness in Christendom. Fear. Catholic leaderships' fear of exposure, of humiliation, of shame, and admitting that much of the leadership structure of the church suffers from severe problems. I pray that through the unbearable pain, that God is somehow at work in this, cleansing His church. I thought of the fear of the leadership at TBN, and Benny Hinn, again, fear of exposure, fear of failure, fear that not everyone will get healed. Or maybe fear that the whole "healing and miracles" thing will be exposed for the sham that it just might be.

And I have been thinking about Mr. Lobdell's comments about faith. The gift of faith. This is something that has been discussed and debated for centuries, and still, no one really has the final answer. Its a mystery, but one I have chosen, and still choose daily, to participate in. I still believe in Jesus, and try to follow him.

Its the church that makes me nuts, and that I still love so much. Just like a drunk uncle, or father, for that matter.

My guess is this. Its the church that messed up Mr. Lobdell's faith, not Jesus. From the very beginning of his faith journey, he may have been sold a Divine Bill of Goods, if you will excuse me. I hope to say more about this soon, if life does not get in the way.

The article by William Lobdell can be found here.

I'm With Mika!

Chosen, Blessed, Broken, Food for the World

From Henri Nouwen:

"When Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, he summarized in these gestures his own life. Jesus is chosen from all eternity, blessed at his baptism in the Jordan River, broken on the cross, and given as bread to the world. Being chosen, blessed, broken, and given is the sacred journey of the Son of God, Jesus the Christ.

When we take bread, bless it, break it, and give it with the words "This is the Body of Christ," we express our commitment to make our lives conform to the life of Christ. We too want to live as people chosen, blessed, and broken, and thus become food for the world."

The Simple Way, The Fire, and Hope

On June 20th, my birthday, while we ate cake and celebrated my 49th year on this planet in Southern California, a tragic event occured in one of the poorest neighborhoods of Philadelphia, the City of Alleged Brotherly Love.

A devastating fire occurred in the neighborhood of The Simple Way, a community of Christian folk, who have chosen to live out their faith by following Jesus as found in John 1. I think these idealistic folk may have a lot of very good ideas about building communities of faith, even though they style their hair slightly differently than I do (like if I had any hair to be styling!).

To support the effort to rebuild this community of hope, go here. To find our more about the Simple Way and its ideas, go listen to this. You will need an hour, but it is worth it. Watch the video of the fire and aftermath below. Your heart will be happy you did.

787 Dreamliner Debute

I have always loved to fly. Perhaps its because I grew up hearing storied of flight from my Dad, who was a B17 pilot in World War II.

Today was the debute of the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Its looks completely unique, from the curved wingspan, to the open cabin, to the cutoff engine cowlings. I am psyched!

And check out this about the interior:

And oh my gosh, check out the flight deck:

A Day of Celebration, A Miracle, and a Responsibility

Day off work. A parade through the center of town. Red, white, and blue bunting. A barbecue. Fireworks.

But so much more. Its the 4th of July. Two hundred and 31 years ago, the Declaration of Independence finished with this paragraph:

"We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."

To me, the formation and sustaining of this nation for all these years is at once a miracle and a responsibility. May I do my part to maintain the responsibility.

Pastor KC, A Journey Filled With Hope

When I wonder if God really can change people's lives, I have one direction I can point to with great confidence. Northwest. That is the point on the compass from my house to where Pastor KC Wahe lives.

Some 20 years ago, I met KC, who at that time, was one of the high school kids at my church. I did not meet his family, in fact, I never did. That is because his family was struggling with many issues, including alcohol and drugs. KC told me recently that he was recently overwhelmed when one of his boys, after an otherwise ordinary trip to the supermarket, told him that the family refrigerator was too full to hold any more food. KC then related how he, as a boy of his son's age, mostly remembered opening his own fridge as a child, and finding only an old jar of mustard, and lots of beer.

And now, he is a Princeton Seminary grad, and is pastoring a wonderful church in Little Rock, near Palmdale, amidst the rocks and cactus of the southern California high desert. This is not an American journey from rags to riches, but it is a journey from hopelessness to a place and time filled with hope. This is not a mega church in terms of numbers, but it is mega in terms of love, grace, mercy, and Christian community. I have been there, and I like those people!

What made the difference for KC? Why not more beer, a little apartment in Hollywood, and a downward spiral of life, just like others in his family? I think I might know why; I watched it happen. Relationships. Love. Involvement. People being there for KC. Christian community. Matter of fact, just like what God might be building in Little Rock.

I am thankful for my old friend KC today.

IPhone Day, Spoiled Kids, and a Yawn

Yesterday shall forever go down in history as IPhone roll out day. Although I am somewhat of a techno-geek, please pardon me while I don't wet my pants in hysteric anticipation.

My office is in Old Town Pasadena, and some 15 year old kid from La Canada has been waiting in line to get his phone for two days now. Fifteen? Where did he get the $500 from? Oh, wait, Mom is in line with him. Can you spell "indulged child"? But then again, perhaps this child will avoid therapy later life because his Mom shared his interests in life with him when he was young.


However, I am encouraged that Jesus still outranks the IPhone, over the long haul. Click the image to enlarge.


This video sums up all the hysteria.....with great humor. HT to Julie

Teens, Text Messages, Connecting

I have a confession. I get bored in church meetings. And waiting for planes. Standing in line at Starbucks.

Another confession. I love my wife and daughters more than I ever thought possible. And so, when I get bored in church meetings, or when I am waiting at a stop light, or when I am waiting for a flight at the airport, I text message my girls.

My friend Julie has some interesting insight into this phenomenon that I think bears a look see.

My take is that anything that keeps me connected to my family, that keeps some form of communication open between us, is worthy of consideration. I shall continue texting....and keep the lines of communication open.

Chaperone

I have two daugthers. I am going to get me one of these babies.