The fear if (inter)faith

I have been charged with leading a group of leaders from various faiths on campus. It is, in a word, hard. In theory, our campus wants to be able to connect with leaders from all faiths so we can have better communication, share resources, and be able to connect students to the spiritual dimensions of their development.

The problem is, nobody wants to come. For our last meeting, we invited 48 groups and 4 people showed up.  A few years ago, I was pretty afraid of other religions. Now I recognize the value of getting these groups together, not to pretend we all agree about theology, but to collaborate around student success. I think interfaith dialogue and connection is pretty rare, and I think many of these groups have the same fears I used to.

So, we (in theory) sit in a room with people representing traditions that have thousands of years of less than positive history with one another. Muslims and Jews, Hindu and Taoist, Protestants and Catholics, Athiests and Ba’hai. What good could come of this?

I propose another question: Why did Jesus heal people? The people he healed died later anyway, right? My guess is that he loves people so much he can barely help himself, he knew that miracles pointed to something miraculous, and that healing touches people’s hearts (thank you Hugh Halter).

Can you imagine if we were able to create relationships where these historically hostile groups respected and cared for one another? Could you say it was anything but miraculous? Could you say that people’s hearts were not touched? Furthermore, what if Christians were the group that was over-the-top loving and sacrificial and caring?

If we believe we have the truth, why are we afraid of people asking questions? Why would we ever be afraid of being around people who believe something different? I work on this project with a fabulous graduate student (who also attends a local seminary) who studies Paul’s interaction with the Greeks. She says, “We need to know someone else’s language well enough to use it to our advantage.”

We should see interfaith as an opportunity to build relational bridges. One leader told me, “I would come, but what would the perception of my students be if they saw me there?” Instead, our biggest Christian groups on campus are being shown up by the Mormons.

Showing up to a conversation doesn’t mean you agree with everyone there, it just means you respect them and care about them enough as people to listen and maybe work together. Rather than showing up ready for a debate, Christians ought to actively pursue places and people they don’t understand so they can listen. How can we become all things to all men if we don’t get to know them?

Truth

“The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it” -Flannery O’Conner

In my church-going experience, I’ve heard a lot about truth. Most of the things we emphasize as true are things our pastoral staff thinks we need to be reminded of, encouraged by, and taught. For example, the role of the Holy Spirit, or power of prayer. This is excellent – our gatherings should be a great refreshing and challenging reminder of what we believe.

So, where is the role of the church to tell us the true things that are happening in the world, things that God cares about and we need to be reminded of? People are dying. Christians are dying.

Today, 25,000 people will die of hunger. Addiction grips millions in our nation. There are more slaves on the planet today than any point in human history. There are 80 homeless high school students in Fort Collins. 5000 kids die every day of lack of clean water.

Why do we avoid talking about this kind of truth? Maybe it’s because we have a curriculum we feel like we need to get through (though, there’s a certain irony to feel like we have to get through the Bible, instead of applying it. Maybe we should try to get the Bible through us!). Maybe it’s because it’s uncomfortable. Maybe it’s just because it’s not something we think about a lot.

The Bible is great. I truly enjoy studying and learning from it. I also think there are other truths that are happening all around us, truths we can learn a lot from – not just about our world, but about our creator, our church, and ourselves. Moreover, think about the kind of environment we would create if we spent time in our faith communities being open about real pain in the world. In a church of 100, you are nearly guaranteed to have someone connected to addiction, divorce, and AIDS – what a refreshing feeling it would be do know that this is a place we can talk about real life, real truth.

She thinks she could follow Jesus

Jenn is a junior who studies Arabic and political science, loves music, and has a hard time with religion. She’s open to talking about deep things, but is uncomfortable with religion.

A group of Christian RAs get together about once a month to pray, worship, and talk about their lives as missionaries on our campus. They invited me to talk about what Jesus thinks about social justice. Thinking it’s a topic Jenn would like, I invited her.

We walked through 7-8 passages where Jesus looks out for those that religious people would have avoided.  ”Who would Jesus be hanging out with today?” we asked. We had a great discussion, and were challenged to love people courageously, and be known more for what we’re for than what we against, to demonstrate love more than we dictate or describe it.

I invited three non-Christians to the gathering that night, Jenn one of them. They walked in, saw people they knew, felt welcome, and got to learn more about what their peers believe and the questions they are wrestling with. When they came in the door, I knew immediately that we weren’t going to sing, and that our prayer time would be limited. Though the topic that night was social justice, the focus was on those three.

I followed up with Jenn later in the week. She said, “I think if more people thought about Jesus that way, I’d want to be a Christian.” That may have been the highlight of my year.

How can we create more spaces where people can comfortably experience what Jenn experienced? We don’t need to filter what we believe, but our friends need an environment where they can be themselves and feel normal. I’ve written before (and said that night) that Christians need to get uncomfortable. (Ironically, another non-believer pointed out to me that in coming to our gathering he was in an uncomfortable place! Try bringing a non-believer to church and you’ll realize how uncomfortable it is for them) When Jesus taught, it seems to me that he made sinners feel at home and religious people squirm. Maybe the only people that should be comfortable in our gatherings is non-believers!

We have a generation of college students who are eager to introduce their peers to Christian community. How can we create welcoming environments and relationships so they can encounter him? My guess is that we Christians need to get uncomfortable.

The tao of leading

Through most of my leadership opportunities, I’ve had the mantra that if I ask someone else to do something, I should be willing to do it myself. Whether cleaning up vomit or taking duty shifts, I want my staff to know that I don’t ask them to do something I’m not willing to do.  That sounds great, until I end up doing everything. See, my problem quickly becomes that I’m not willing to give anything away, or lose control of anything. Honestly, I can do most  jobs better than the 18 year-olds I hire, and I like things they way I like them. But, I’m not really growing leaders, and I’m not really helping our team succeed when I do everything (or am even involved in everything). After a while, my staff learns that I don’t really trust them to do their jobs unless I’m watching them do it.  Should leaders lead by example? Obviously, yes. And they should be willing to give almost everything away.

Check out this verse from Exodus. Moses is in charge, and in this scenario he is being a judge and teacher, the decision maker, the go-to guy, the guru, the wise sage, the leader. His father in law (Jethro)  sees what he’s doing, asks him about it (Moses responds) and then Jethro says (ch 18 vs 17),

“What you are doing is not good.”

The Message says it like this, “This is no way to go about it. You’ll burn out, and the people right along with you. This is way too much for you – you can’t do this alone.”

I’ve got to focus on what I have to do, and what I do well. Then, I need to empower other people to do what they do well. I’m sure the judges Moses appointed didn’t get it perfect. As the leader, I need to let people fail. I should walk beside them, coaching them, mentoring them, and in-powering them with real power (not, tell me what you come up with and I’ll tell you how to change it). Clearly Jesus didn’t expect his disciples to have everything figured out perfectly, or he would have stuck around a bit longer so they could get some basic questions right. What do I need to give up so someone else can begin to really excel, and so I can focus on what I can really contribute to my team?

Twitter

A few weeks ago, a friend suggested I follow him on Twitter. Twitter, it has been said, is for high schoolers and celebrities. I joined Twitter in the hopes of being able to connect with a few students I otherwise wouldn’t, only to find that most of my friends on Twitter were the artsy-techy kind who thought it was interesting to share their most recent melancholy thought or that they just “ironed their pants!” Moreover, my friend had the AUDACITY to suggest I get text updates whenever he tweets. Yikes.

I’m mostly tired of social media. I get on Facebook about every time I need someone’s email address. This blog struggles to keep up with any content or thought process in my life. I just bought out of my smart phone contract so I get a break from email. But, I must confess, I like Twitter.

I now get text updates whenever favorite authors, pastors, and speakers send a “Tweet.” It’s like I have a bit of an inside view of what these godly people think and reflect on throughout the day. Andy Stanley posts chapters of his new books to read, Rob Bell tells stories, Rick Warren speaks like a pastor with new insights on grace and forgiveness. Others talk about their families, send prayer requests, and comment on world events.

I’ve seen Obama and Ochocinco’s pages (I prefer the “ironing pants”) and yes, Twitter will probably fade. For now, I appreciate the effort of leaders to communicate in whatever ways they can.

In the neighborhood

“God put on flesh and moved into the neighborhood”

I love this verse, and it’s part of the “why” I do what I do, why I ask my wife to continue to live with me in a residence hall with 400 freshmen. Where do I have more opportunity to impact college students than to move into their neighborhood? I get to live with them, I get to be in their world, invade their space.

As I explained it this morning, I love living in the tension between when Paul says he is, “all things to all men that I might save some” and “pray for me also that I might fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel.” I absolutely want to live my life so people know the truth, or as I sometimes say it, so students can take steps to becoming who they were made to be. But I (like everyone) have to do this in a specific context. I daily have to think about how to be relatable, but not compromise. I have to be an insider in my culture, but I still want my faith to stand out. I have to be wise with my words, but never afraid to say the truth.

Here’s what I’ve discovered – I don’t have to ever be afraid of what I believe. In fact, the more assure I am of what I believe, the more I welcome questions.  I love what Rick Warren said yesterday about the recent news incident, “Bookburning is cowardly act by those afraid their beliefs aren’t strong enough to attract if people are allowed a choice.” How the heck do we live among but still stand out? The question becomes – how do I display truth so its relevant? How do I display the gospel so its approachable?

I maybe have 4% of this figured out. On a good day. I just love my job.

No Secrets

I have a friend named Moe. Moe is one of the most genuinely open, transparent people I know. Moe is open about her struggles, her challenges, her plans, her failing lesbian relationship, her thoughts – and not just to me, she’s open to  most everybody. Emily is the same way, she is even open about her goals, her dreams, her fights with her boyfriend, her future plans. Jenn, however, is closed off – she has a secret world of her struggles, dreams, plans, and hopes that few people see. In fact, most people I work with can be described as either transparent or not. Jenn is Christian. Emily and Moe are not.

Here’s the interesting thing – I wouldn’t describe any of the Christians I work with as transparent. I can’t think of a single exception. The few Christians I work with are less likely to talk about their future plans, their dreams, their desire to have kids, their relationships, and their perceived areas of growth.

Why is this? Earlier I wrote about the need to be perfect. I think that’s one reason. Christians are more likely to have another group outside of work where they can be transparent, that’s another (healthy) reason. But I know for me, there’s another reason as well.

I’m afraid that if I share my dreams and they don’t come true that I will have to defend God. Part of this is also that I’m not wholly confident that my dreams are God’s sized and shaped dreams. But, what if I believed in prayer so much and I trusted in God so much that I could confidently tell people at work about how I want to make a dent in the world? What if I told people what I was praying for, fully confident that if it didn’t come to pass I would have to defend God? First – I think it would make me pray with a lot more fervor. Second, I think it would show people how a relationship with God focuses your dreams. Third, I think most people will resonate with what God puts on our hearts.

Mobbed

I feel like I am constantly asking the question, “What is the point of church?” For the last several months, we’ve gone to the same church, showed up at the same time, found our seats, sat through the service, and then left. We might say hi to a few people we’ve met before, but we’re in and out of the door about as quick as everyone else.

Three weeks ago, my wife and I decided to check out a different church. We had seen them having a picnic in town, and thought it was worth a shot. The details of the service aren’t too important (though, the message hit me right in the gut), but after the announcements, something cool happened.

We got mobbed. Now, it was a nice mobbing, they didn’t take our wallets or anything. Couple after couple came up to us to introduce themselves. We got four phone numbers and two lunch invitations. Nobody pressured us into anything, everyone was genuinely welcoming. That’s the kind of place I want to bring a friend.

Last week we went to their “newcomers lunch.” The pastor talked about their intention: we should not expect people to come through our doors, but find ways to get into the lives of people who aren’t here… Most people wake up on Sunday morning without even a thought that church should be part of their life.”

I feel like we (churches and college ministries) often operate under the idea that if our programs are good enough, people will come. If we’re relevant enough, people will be magnically attracted to us. It will be magic! Unchurched folks will hear about how great our video clips are and they won’t be able to stay away!

I wonder – what’s the difference between being relevant and being relatable? What’s the difference between being a Christian insider who welcomes outsiders, and a Christian outsider who tries to become an insider?

What I have going for me

Yesterday the coolest thing happened. I came home, and midway through our “how was your day” conversation, my wife interrupted me and said, “Beau – I have to tell you, the coolest thing happened today.”

I listened as she told me about how she got to share her faith with a co-worker. They had witnessed patience, hope, and compassion in her life and asked about it. When my wife shared that she was Christian, her co-worker backed off and asked if that means she hates gays, or is right-wing evangelical (her words). Rather than get defensive or argumentative, my wife explained how she feels called to love everybody because God first loved her.

Listen, I can try all I want to bring my faith to work and to campus. I read books, I develop tools, I create partnerships and build bridges. But, at the end of the day, the greatest thing I have going for me is that my wife is on the same page. The thing that most fuels my mission is that my life-partner believes the same thing and is doing the same thing.

My wife and I don’t have the same job. We wouldn’t even like each other’s jobs. Nor do we volunteer at the same place in church. What wears her out fuels me and what she does would wear me out. We don’t have the same ministry, but we have the same mission.

College students and religion

While 52% of college freshmen say they regularly attend religious services before coming to college, that number drops to 29% by their junior year. Why?

I came across an interesting news article today as I was doing a bit of research about religion in higher education. The article sites a few reasons for the drop in interest and participation in religion: schedules, sex, and structure (okay, I alliterated their points for them).

Schedule. Waking up early on Sunday morning isn’t conveniet for most college students, especially when almost everything they need is on campus and church means a commute.

Sex. A new book called “Sex and the Soul” cites that students feel like have to choose between sex and religion.

Structure. At home, church was a support structure, the organization and institution was good because it provided something concrete. In the words of the author, “They are moving toward an amorphous spirituality and are less likely to affiliate with an organized religion. They may do something that is personal, grass-roots, and small scale…”

Notice anything strange? The author does not cite any change in belief! We have this mindset that people come to college and enter the liberal world of evolution, Marx, and Nietzsche. Students stop going to church, not because they stop believing in Jesus, but because it isn’t convenient.  They stop participating not because they suddenly become evolutionists, but because church isn’t catered to them anymore. What does that say about their experience in high school? Perhaps that they were made to believe church is and should be convenient. What do our church environments (including our high school youth groups) communicate about faith? Is it about ownership, sacrifice, personal choice, and commitment? Or is it comfortable, convenient, and catered?

Just a little insight into the college student world. Here’s the article, if you’re interested: http://www.capecodonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20100404/LIFE/4040307/-1/NEWSMAP