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?

Two Stories (part one)

The Christian story in 9 words, “God put on flesh and moved into the neighborhood.”

The Christian story in 8 words: God took the risk to forgive in advance. (with thanks to Phillip Yancey)

The Christian story in 7 words: “See, I am making all things new.”

The Christian story in 6 words: In You I find my identity.

The Christian story in 5 words: We’re not perfect, just forgiven.

The Christian story in 4 words: Hope doesn’t disappoint us.

The Christian story in 3 words: “Come, follow me.”

The Christian story in 2 words: He lives!

The Christian story in 1 word: Grace.

Two stories (part two)

The story I fight against every day in 10 words: People far away need love more than people next door.

The story I fight against every day in 9 words: I am supposed to do this all by myself.

The story I fight against every day in 8 words: If I just pray harder, I can change.

The story I fight against every day in 7 words: Hiding mistakes will make them less painful.

The story I fight against every day in 6 words: God works mostly through powerful people.

The story I fight against every day in 5 words: I help God fix others.

The story I fight against every day in 4 words: I’m okay, you’re okay.

The story I fight against every day in 3 words: Humility is overrated.

The story I fight against every day in 2 words: Try harder.

The story I fight against every day in 1 word: Me.

What Glenn Beck doesn’t understand about political correctness

Dear Glenn,

Recently, you publicly denounced Campus Crusade for Christ for changing their name to “Cru” (technically, it’s Cru Global). This is one of your many tirades against “political correctness,” and as I recently applauded the name change, I thought I’d share my perspective on what you deem “PC.”

Cru understands that the language we use affects how people view us, approach us, and create biases against us. Studies showed that changing their name made 20% of people more open to hearing about a relationship with Jesus. It isn’t about removing Christ, it’s about being willing to do tangible things (as uncomfortable as it is) so others can meet him. This change isn’t a sign of compromise, but or compassion, care, and commitment to a bigger mission.

Words are powerful – even if they don’t matter to you, it’s clear they matter to others. Often, the words we use create invisible walls. Don’t we want to create environments where everyone feels welcome, invited, included, and loved? I’m not so concerned if someone thinks what I believe is stupid (1 Cor 1:18) , but if they think I’m insensitive, un-compassionate, alienating, rude, unwelcoming, or inconsiderate, I have a problem. If a friend is turned off by Jesus call to “come and die” (as Bonhoeffer says), that’s pretty understandable. If they are turned off to a relationship with Jesus because I’m behaving badly or isolating them with insensitive words, that’s pretty pathetic.

Rather than expecting everyone else to meet us where we are at, what if we met them where they’re at? That sounds a lot more like Jesus to me. I’m not saying we write the moral code – I’m saying we should be willing to assess what really matters, and what we can strategically change. If we are able to change some of our language and our labels, we may form relationships with fewer obstacles to overcome.

Bigger

Rob Bell has created quite a stir with his new book, “Love Wins.” I propose that our response to Bell’s book says something about how we view the power of the gospel.

Bell, in his typical style, asks provocative questions. The most controversial question he asks in the book is, “is hell forever?” Since the book’s release, I hear two common reactions to Bell’s book, both of which say something about what we really believe about the gospel. Whether or not you have read it, I think these responses are still telling for what we believe (and how people from the outside view the church).

The first response goes something like this, “Rob Bell is leading people down a dangerous path. He’s asking questions that he doesn’t give answers to, leaving the door open for someone to believe something that’s untrue.” My response is – do we believe there are questions Jesus cannot handle? Don’t you think God wants us to know truth more than our pastors do? Don’t you think He can still be glorified (and maybe even sees an opportunity) when we ask honest and tough questions? I hope Christians are more known by our invitations than our answers (John 1:43-46), by the way we welcome than the way we recite or defend – I think the gospel is big enough to handle that.

The second response is, “If hell isn’t forever, then there is no need for evangelism.” This exposes what we really believe a life with God is good for. If we believe the sole purpose of bringing people to Jesus is so that they have a ticket to heaven, we have seriously missed the power and scope and depth of the gospel. Ask yourself, “Even if everyone went to heaven, can I still think of a reason to introduce people to Jesus?” I hope so. I hope Christians believe their savior did and is doing more for them than just getting them a ticket to heaven. This response has forced me to think about how I can articulate Christ has done for me, beyond what he will do for me after I die.

There are a dozen conversations to be had about the content of Bell’s argument. Let’s have them! While we do, I would venture to say the nature of our reaction (anger? defensiveness? fear? opportunity?) says something about what we believe about the gospel.

The Adjustment Bureau

I’m sure I’m not the first or only blogger who is writing about The Adjustment Bureau, a new movie about free will starring Matt Damon. In the movie (which you should see), a great love story unfolds around a politician who finds out that there is a group that makes subtle adjustments to people’s lives and thoughts to keep things on track, according to plan.

(spoiler alert!…sort of)

There will likely be some good discussion about God’s involvement in free will vs. determinism. What I found most interesting is that the agents/case officers were more obsessed with and tied to “the plan” than the Chairman appeared to be. The Chairman was moved by emotion (Matthew 7:9-11, Luke 18:1-8).

To me, the discussion wasn’t so much about whether God is tied to a predetermined script, but how we represent God. Are we moved by others needs and desires (like Harry)? Are we willing to advocate for others, moved by love? Or do we stay obsessed with the black and white, with what we believe is right? As the movie finished, a friend quietly mumbled, “love wins.” In the movie, you begin to have a feeling like the Chairman will be very irritated if things don’t go according to plan. Do you think God is irritated by our big prayers, or honored by them? Certainly when we pray, we don’t inform God of the details of what is happening in the life of a sick or discouraged friend - but we do demonstrate our love.

See also Genesis 18:16-33, Isaiah 38:5

let them come to me

I get tired of almost every academic subject. Lately, I’ve been reading a slew of books on church and discipleship and mission and my brain is just a bit overloaded, and I’m taking a little break. I can’t imagine what this is like for pastoral staff. I’m sure people are always wanting to talk theology, show off their “new” insights, or have some question answered. I can imagine this is very tiring – people always giving you opinions, and asking for yours.

Jesus must have gotten this more than most. We have some references to him being bombarded with questions, but this must have been his everyday life. Maybe he wasn’t, but I find myself tired of nearly every subject after a while.

But you know what? I never get sick of little kids making farm animal noises. For some reason, “what does the ducky say?” is far less draining than, “do you think women should be in ministry?” Tickle fights are more interesting than board meetings and the best exegesis on Micah 3:3 isn’t as fun as Dr. Suess.

When little kids came to Jesus, he got a few minutes off. Perhaps he thought, “finally, I can just relax and have fun.” Kids have wonder, they want to be with you just to be with you, and they could care less how learned or perfect you are. When kids pray, they don’t filter their prayers through the rubric of whether it’s ‘realistic.’

Maybe it would be okay for our spiritual walk if every once in a while we put down Dallas Willard and played hide and go seek. Or if we occasionally replaced quiet time with a pillow fight. Honestly, how appealing does it sound to unbelievers when we talk about our relationship with God as a regiment of spiritual “disciplines?” Maybe our spirituality is uniquely attractive if it allows for us to joyfully be a kid again.

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?

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.

Ditching the Church

If we believe in our mission, and believe God is everywhere, why do we feel like we need our action to be connected to a church to live out the gospel?

Six years ago I spent a summer in Savannah, Georgia and worked with the Union Mission (UM). UM started a number of years ago as a faith based organization to help the urban homeless in Savannah, which at one point numbered over 8,000. Micheal Elliot (here’s his blog) found that they were spending quite a bit of time raising funds, appealing to churches, and had less time to work with the poor. Furthermore, because they were faith-based they had certain doors closed to them in the community (including getting government funding). So, they dropped the church and became a secular organization. When you hear the folks at UM discuss the transition, they say it that simply. It was the right decision, it opened doors and created funding, while still allowing them to do what they believe matters – taking care of the poor.

Do you think God can still be honored by the Union Mission if they are not technically a faith-based organization? If you visit the Union Mission today, you will be floored at their success – they have started multiple homeless-run local businesses (including the Starfish Cafe, pictured above) and put hundreds of people in jobs and in homes. Their ability to impact the world and glorify God increased when they ditched the church, partially because they understood their cultural context.

23 years ago Reverend David Stephenson went on his first mission trip to Bolivia. He has since led 72 different groups to help provide clean water to this region. Through the years, he made a connection to the Bolivian government and Engineers Without Borders (EWB). He found that because he worked for a church, there were complications with both these groups. So, he created a secular organization called Engineers in Action. His mission is still the same, and they are able to accomplish it more by being disconnected from the church. David understands the people he works with, and he made some decisions so it would be easier to partner with them.

Because of Micheal and David’s vision, folks like me are able to take groups of students on ‘mission-trips’ where we otherwise couldn’t. These two guys get that you need to understand your cultural context to have the greatest possible impact. Just changing their label, they were able to build significant bridges and gain trust.

Can God be glorified through gospel centered living that isn’t sponsored by the church? Are we so married to our systems that we are missing out on real Great Commission opportunities?