Types of Worship Leaders

What type are you?

I've been working on tomorrow's worship set for church for the better part of the week. It's been difficult. It usually is for different reasons. This time I can't seem to get straight what I want to say, how I want transitions to go, etc. It's all the stuff people don't really notice, but they don't notice because hours of prep go into it. You never notice when things go smoothly, but if I bumble through a few messy sentences you'll think, "He didn't really prepare this week, did he?"

As I was trying to figure out how to explain Advent, I thought, "Maybe I need to talk less and pray more." It seemed simple enough, and it gave me a sense of peace. I then started thinking about my leading style when it comes to worship, and I think there are several categories that leaders default to.

Teacher Leader - This type of leader likes to give small theological bits that help connect what they're doing with why they're doing it. Chances are you'll learn something new each time this person leads, whether you want to or not. Well, unless you already know what they're saying. But someone will likely learn something new.

Tour Guide Leader - This leader tells you how you're getting from point A to point F by mapping the way. "Today we're singing about God's grace, so we'll start with 'Your Grace is Enough,' because... and as our confession, 'Mercy and Grace' reminds us that even though we have God's grace, we still need it..." and so on. This type of worship leader seldom leaves the congregation feeling lost, but they may overdo the talking.

Praying Leader - This leader doesn't say much at all. They pray between songs, during songs, etc. Some are expert pray-ers, some stumble through but don't know what else to do. They're more comfortable talking with God than to the congregation, so they use that as their transitional medium.

Prophetic Leader - These at times seem more in heaven than on earth because of their heightened intuition of the Holy Spirit. They listen more than speak, and sometimes seem like they're off in the distance instead of on the platform; but when they come back, they normally have a powerful word to share.

Praising Leader - This leader is hyped up about God and wants you to be, too! They're excited about who God is and what God is doing, and their main goal is to bring you along.

Confessing/Weeping Leader - Every time this person leads, you wonder what horrible sin they committed before leading worship. They live in Psalm 51 crying out, "My sin is ever before me!" They argue with Paul that they are, in fact, the chief of sinners, not him. If you don't leave feeling guilty of something, you must've shown up right before the sermon.

Silent Leader - Most of these are untrained. I've experience mostly high schoolers in this realm. They stand in front, start a song, play it through (normally as written), finish the song, pause in awkward silence as they shuffle their music, start the next song, and repeat until the set is over. These leaders are usually willing to be coached, which is fantastic.

Overly-zealous Transitioning Leader - This leader makes transitions, but it's way too obvious to feel authentic. "I was talking to one of my buddies from work about religion, and he was like, 'What's different about your god?' and you know what I said? 'Our God / Is an awesome God! / He reigns...'" You know it when you hear it. Props for trying. The heart is there.

Narrative Leader - This leader will take one story or theme and work their way through it. For example, they may take a Psalm and attach songs to different verses, making it all the way through in a fresh way. Or perhaps they'll take a story like Jesus walking on water and convey different emotions and actions in the story as one set (fear, mystery, confidence, trust, etc.).

Which of these have you experienced?

Which types did I miss?

Do you find any are your favorite?

If you lead, what's your default? What could you try?

All other related thoughts are welcome.

Churches: Unleash Your Musicians

I'll never own a dog.

It was a brisk morning. Katie, my beige Corolla, kept me company as we headed off to church. I was greeted along the way by familiar red and green lights, intersections and passers-by. "More leaves have fallen since last week," I thought in pre-determined prose.

Squirrel!

I saw it, too. But I wasn't the one who wanted to catch it. A black lab, appropriately dressed for the season, reacted instinctively to the small woodland (suburban?) creature racing near it. The dog leapt forward! He took a few majestically grand steps toward his goal. Quickly paced, he lunged, only to be sharply drawn back by a thin cord attached to a man in a jogging suit. Just as quickly as it had begun, the chase was over. The squirrel mocked the dog, and the master and slave continued on their scheduled route. The man wished his dog would be more tame. And the dog wondered why he felt so unfulfilled.

I've played in church or para-church bands for 13 years, almost half my life. (A moment of silence for feeling a little old today... Thank you.) One of the greatest challenges I have experienced for the musician in church is how to not become the "church musician." In days past the church musician would be the slow moving organist with the too-long breaks between each verse of whatever anthem the congregation would moan that morning. Today's church musician is typically younger and looks flashier. But there's a good chance that musician has been musically emasculated, regardless of gender. There is no life or vigor in the artist; just a chord-strumming shell who can barely hear his small contribution through the monitor.

Great musicians don't like to play in church for just that reason. Why would they take something they're so passionate about into the church if it won't be appreciated? In Old Testament terms, musicians see consistently easy music as an unacceptable offering to God. Por ejemplo: A fantastic musician coming in and playing I V vi IV in four keys for as many songs isn't bringing her spotless, unblemished lamb. She's bringing what's lying around the farm as her sacrifice of praise. The worst part is, she'd love to bring the best, but the culture shuts her down.

There's nothing wrong with those simple songs, and a musician should have enough humility and willingness to play them, but if that artist is never allowed to actually play, it'll kill that musician's spirit.

So, how does a church unleash it's musicians? How can they be free to find their purpose, especially in God's house? How do they balance between performance art and worship, where the objects of attention are very different?

I have my thoughts, but I'll hold off. What are yours?

Church of the Month

Not that I anticipate this being a regular occurrence.

Soul City Church is opening up on the North Side of Chicago. I thought the site looked really snazzy for a start-up church. I mean, I thought our site was nice for a plant. And I still do, because it is. But there is definitely a generational difference between the graphics and methods used. (i.e. text vs. video as primary communicators.)

After checking it out, I realized why it was so well put together. The pastor, Jarrett Stevens, has worked at both Willow Creek as a pastor of Axis, and North Point Church (best known recently for their "Sunday Morning" video). Those are serious connections. I'm fairly certain I heard the pastor speak at Judson and Status in Orlando.

My impression is that this church knows their target market, and it's me. It's the hipster* twenty-something that's disenchanted with everything normal church does and hopes there is something out there acting on dormant hopes and dreams for active Christian faith. Communicate those dreams in fancy graphics set to indie music and you've got yourself a deal!

What are your thoughts after checking out the site?

*I'm not a hipster.

Encountering Jesus in Worship

Growing up changes things.

Or maybe it's growing up American. I'm not sure, because I've never grown up anything else. Maybe if I grew up African, South American, Japanese or French I wouldn't have exchanged creativity for efficiency and process.

I used to breathe worship. My last couple years in high school and two in community college prepared the way for three years of undergrad as a Worship Arts major. I knew all the scriptures about worship, fear of the Lord, reverence and awe, music, obedience and so on. I read books about it. I played songs that did it. I was a passionate worshiper.

Growing up changes things.

After years of acquiring skill, I became incredibly proficient at crafting services, designing worship sets, and praying for maximum impact. My education was a great investment; it sharpened my skills in incredible ways. But as it is with many things, especially art, working on technique can sneakily slide you from art to science. Mastering "how" gives you a better "what." But somewhere along the line, you forget "why."

I picked up my first worship book in three years or so, The Worship Architect by Constance Cherry. Hearing her lecture this past Monday confirmed I'm not the only one asking questions about participation in worship. She laid out the typical Sunday service church model, where the leaders perform, the Holy Spirit prompts and the congregation is the audience, which makes worship a commodity subject to likes and dislikes, preferences and so on. The fundamental question became, How do we flip this paradigm?

Growing up changes things.

I wasn't looking at theories and cultural structures 10 years ago when I started all this. I was playing guitar and singing songs, not really sure what I was doing. I had energy and vigor for those tasks; they were new and fresh.

Today, I'm looking at the entire system. The whole thing is set up wrong, or at least not best. It's obviously "working," so I'm not saying let's trash what we have. However, if we think the stereotypical Sunday singing/sermon should be standard, we're missing out, because then "how" to make the best service becomes the focus, and "what" songs, themes and sermons will be explored flows from that.

Somewhere along the line you forget the "why." Why do we gather? What are we even doing here? Is this a pep rally, a support group, a club meeting? Paraphrasing Dr. Cherry, "The church tries to keep up with culture in respect to media and technology, but we'll never keep up. The only thing we have to offer the world is the presence of the risen Christ."

Suddenly, the task transforms. Instead of seeing how I can make the best service, I start with "Why are we gathering?" The answer, to encounter Jesus, directs my next question, "How will we do that?" In the context of Sunday, it's by gathering together. Finally, "What will we do when we're together?" That's a question asked best in each context, knowing the needs and gifts of the community. Can a sermon and music be a part of that? Absolutely. But if those are the focus, and not encountering the risen Jesus, we'll have a great adventure in missing the point.

Growing up changes things.

In a good way.

For more on the "Why, How, What" order, The Golden Circle.

The Plate That Is Deliciously Full

I know how to go through a buffet.

When I was little, I thought I knew how to do the buffet. You see what you want, you take some, and then you move on to the next thing you want, right?

Sort of.

If you see some good salad or pasta or soup or processed over-salted meat product, and you get a good amount like a normal meal, you'll fail. You can't get just as much of everything as you always do; you'll never be able to eat it all. The trick, I've found, is to take just a taste of everything that looks good. That way if something's fantastic you can just go get more. And things that aren't that good? Well, you don't have to eat a lot because you only grabbed a little.

I made my friend a list of my current commitments. Doing so, I realized I had stacked up at the buffet. Here are the entrees I am enjoying:

- Leading worship

- Directing a college ministry

- Mentoring 4 students

- Developing a basic intro to the Bible curriculum

- Creating a small group experience on personal Bible devotion/prayer

- Attempting to co-create curriculum/assignments for my grad school class

- Preaching at church

- Training for a quickly approaching half-marathon

And aside from that I want to have a vibrant prayer life, blog meaningful material, play around with music and video software, and participate in life-giving social events.

It's possible I need more than one plate. It could be too much goodness for one trip through the buffet line. Either that, or I need to find the best way to make each of these small bites instead of giant portions.

At this point I've signed up for what I have, and I'm interested to see how it turns out. And honestly, I'm not too concerned.

I think next semester I need to employ the advanced buffet technique learned in the 301 course: Eating the Best Without Blowing Up. Instead of grabbing a plate and heaping up, you bypass the plates, survey all of the options, and pair them up. You don't want to end up with all meats, or all salads, or not have room for dessert. Similarly, I don't want to have a bad balance. I want my activities to complement one another for a healthy balance.

The good news is I am a different person than I was 6 months ago. I don't think I would have taken this much on back then, mostly because I would be afraid of how much effort it would take. I'm interested to see how much I can healthily take on. I'm sure it's more than I've done before, but not sure where the threshold is.

I'm thinking dropping something will be the equivalent of loosening my belt. I'm not anticipating that, but I'd be silly not to think it may be necessary. I hope my friends will keep me healthy and in check. But I'm going to have to make time to allow them to do so. Accountability always has to be allowed for it to work.

Tonight I'll simmer in the possibilities, consider goals, directions, etc. And, more importantly, I'll commit all these ways to the LORD. If I'm not being called to all of them, I can't expect them all to succeed. A man decides his way in his heart; but it is the LORD who directs his steps.

I'll let the LORD fill my plate.

What if we...: Participation in Worship

Welcome to the interwebz version of the OB/GYN, where you get to see my thoughts on participative worship in utero.

(The thoughts are in utero, not the worship.)




Worship Leader surprised me this month! Their July/August issue, Return of the Folk, is actually really helpful, and talks about things I care about, namely participation in worship. The very first article mentioned the exact same things I was in conversation with about this past weekend, which could have significant implications in my ministry and the church as a whole. More about that later.

As I had mentioned a few months back, I lost my voice. That compounded an already-existing thought, that participation in worship needs to be wholistic, not just for singers, but for everyone. The congregation participates in Sunday worship by singing, and sometimes by taking communion. Then there are those litanies we do, and those are okay. I like them, most of the time.

But the truth is, worship is a spectator sport in most Sunday services. Why? Probably because leadership generally doesn't know how to do it another way. Certainly this isn't the way it has to be, it just takes energy and creativity to do things differently. It also takes courage and vulnerability. I'm better at the former than the latter. But even making time for the former is hard.

A man comes to a point, though, where discontent isn't an option. There needs to be a change. I've crossed that threshold. Now I'm wondering, what can be changed? How can we make our worship our worship, instead of the leaders imposing it on the congregation? (I could easily dive into a theoretical diatribe about whether we are actually imposing anything, the roles of pastors and leaders, expectations of the congregations, etc., but I'd rather not.)

Let me actually say something in this post. A lot of these were suggested by the magazine:

Texting during worship
What if people could text questions during the sermon, and either have them answered at the end of the service, or later on in the week on the blog? (This was the conversation from this past weekend.)

Also, texting prayer requests would totally work, and people could text them in all week, not just on Sunday. Save the number in your phone.

Responsive Dialogue
I'm a fan of dialogue as opposed to lecture, which makes me always reconsider whether or not the sermon is the best means of communication. At best, I find it incomplete. So, can people raise hands and ask questions?

Or, after the sermon, can there be a response time after the sermon somehow? Either with the whole congregation, or maybe circled up in groups?

As my professor said this past week, "The church is going through a wormhole, and we have absolutely no idea where it'll be in ten years. We used to have a guess, but now we've got nothing." If I've grown up in the church, and I'm tired of the music/sermon status quo, it makes me think there are tons of others. So, I'm praying, dreaming, scheming, imagining.

Thoughts?

Prophets and Losses

Who are the prophets among us?

My entire life I have been intrigued by the prophetic role. As a high schooler I remember listening to a homily during mass, reflecting on these words of Jeremiah:

But if I say, "I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,"
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot. [Jer 20:9]

It was like my ticket was drawn from a raffle - these words called me out of a crowd. The words knew this truth that I had yet to understand: God's word was in my heart like a fire, and I was growing weary, tired of holding it in. What was I supposed to do with that?

We'll return to that thought.

There are several different offices, or roles, in the Kingdom of God, including the following:

A pastor takes care of God's people.
Poets artistically translate revelation.
Philosophers think through the challenging truths of God.
Priests go on behalf of the people to God.
And prophets go on behalf of God to the people.*
These roles often intertwine. (See Moses, David, Bonhoeffer.)

I've found myself identifying mostly with the pastor, poet and prophet. But if I had a heart-paradigm, or a way I find myself to be wired more than the others, it's that of prophet.

Here's the catch: As far as I know, there isn't a school for prophets. No "prophetic seminary." Seminaries are geared toward bringing up pastors. So, what do the prophets do?

Oh, you're wondering what a prophet does? There are two main roles:

1) They call people and situations out on behalf of God.
2) They re-imagine the future, from what it is to the what could be.**

On the surface, that sounds pretty sweet. But the life of the prophets is always ridiculously hard, and sometimes just weird. Moses had it pretty bad, considering everyone pretty much hated him and he didn't get to enter the promised land. Hosea had to marry a prostitute, and Jeremiah wasn't allowed to marry at all. Ezekiel had to lay on his side in the town square every day for over a year. Jonah went in the exact opposite direction God called him to go, and ended up there anyway. Nathan had to call out King David, and that's scary stuff. We can go on and on, the point is that the prophetic life is a special calling, and a difficult one at that.

On my two-mile run today (still going strong!), I thought about Jesus' words, that whoever follows him will have to hate his mother, father, sister, brothers, and everyone else. I never understood that. But when I put the life of the prophet together with Jesus's words, it makes sense. No one supports prophets. They're extremists, they "hear from God," they're overly-spiritual, dreamers, out-of-the-box, and in the moment, their claims can't be verified. A mother says proudly, "My son's studying to be a pastor!" How would she feel saying, "My son's calling is to be a prophet"?

Those who challenge the current power arrangements, positions of status and privilege, and the status quo of the community will go without honor in their hometown. (Mt. 13:57) And it may be so extreme that they have to make a choice: Do I follow my parents' wishes for my life and keep the relationship, or do I do what I am called to do, even if it means walking away? These certainly aren't easy questions. But they need to be considered.

As if it weren't obvious, I am navigating what it means to be a prophet. (Though I will mention that I have a wonderful relationship with my parents!) I haven't yet found a prophetic mentor, but I will be praying for one. As much as school is raising me up to be a "pastor," the definition most people have in mind is far too narrow. In some ways, I will be a pastor.

But I must be a prophet.

What resonates with you? Any and all thoughts are both welcomed and sought after.

*Priests, prophets, poets and philosophers was an amazing series done by Status in 2007. I tried to find it, but it appears to be off the site. Sad day. :\
** One of the new classics in this are a is The Prophetic Imagination by Walter Brueggeman.

The Machine

We were both drained.

And as we sat talking, I noted that The Machine was stealing our joy.

The Machine does not live.
The Machine has no brain.
The Machine commands its tasks, all it has done, all it knows.

The Machine needs no input.
The Machine is efficient, with replaceable parts. (Thank you, Henry Ford.)
The Machine requires maintenance. Not love, creativity, warmth.

The Machine was stealing our joy.

We built The Machine.
I swore I never would. "I will never be part of The Machine.
I don't believe in it."

But as surely as entropy increases,
The Machine builds itself.
And I believe.

We became The Machine.
The gears, belts, cogs, wheels.

We churned out the product, uncertain of demand.

And The Machine steals our joy.

What if we...: The Story of God

What if we...

spent an entire church year telling the story of God, hitting the highlights each week?

supplemented that with short sermonettes, in case someone misses a week?

translated those into Spanish for those who need a resource?

added a list of resources on each theme? (audio, video, technological, experiential, print, etc.)

used different media/art to illustrate the plot development?

planned ahead?

challenged congregants to look ahead, and see how their daily work reflects the development?

created, alongside the foundational storyline, a Fundamental Christianity offering?

had a gallery for each person who wanted to display truth and beauty for others to appreciate?

didn't read the Bible as much as we let the Bible read us?

listened half as much as we spoke?

Fryday

This and every Friday for the next 6 weeks: All you can eat fish.

Having grown up Catholic (and leaving with no bad taste in my mouth), I am familiar with fasting from meat on Fridays during Lent. It's a small act of sacrifice and mindfulness about the season we're in.

Certainly sacrificing meat for a day isn't a big deal. Well, unless you're a carnivore. Like me. I don't think a meal really counts unless there's meat. Beef, chicken, pork, bacon. All delicious. All necessary.

But if you're really devout, you can eat fish on Fridays. I have wondered why "fasting" from meat somehow makes an all-you-can-eat fish fry an acceptable alternative. It seems like maybe we've missed the point. This isn't anything new, though. Read any of the prophets and you'll see it's the old, old story of God's people.

Oops.

Anyone giving up anything for Lent?

Justified Guilt?

Help me figure out the appropriate level of guilty feeling.

I'm going to try and rehearse the conversation that happened in my head earlier today. It's stream of consciousness, which is a step-up from a trickle of consciousness, but a step down from a creek of consciousness.

Why do people feel so guilty about missing church? It's like the worst thing a person can do, it seems. I don't see the big deal. Really, I'm just glad when people show up. But then I see people after they miss a week, and they're like, "Sorry..." Sorry for what? I'm not keeping attendance. I'm not offended. And I don't think I ever put undue pressure on anyone to show up. But still, this "sorry" motif is regular. Church guilt is pervasive.

I don't want to go to class. You know why? Because I'm not prepared. I didn't do the work, and it's a reminder that I didn't do well enough, so I feel guilty. So I just don't want to go. Instead of facing up to the conflict, I'll avoid it. Oddly, my professor's never make me feel bad about not reading or being prepared. So, why do I feel guilty? I guess I just know I can do better. This is school and all. I want to do well. I just feel guilty because I'm not doing as well as I can.

There isn't any guilt at the bar. Monday night, if I show up to the Public House, everyone's glad to see me. And when others walk in, everyone's glad to see them. "Hey, I haven't seen you in weeks!" "I know! I missed you guys!" That's the conversation. There isn't any guilt at the bar. No one's keeping track, but no one ever feels bad. What if church was more like the bar, where everyone came when they came, but then they didn't feel bad when they didn't? That'd be nice.

Of course, what's our responsibility for one another at the bar? Nothing. Whether I show up or not, there's no difference. Everyone's there to socialize, so it doesn't matter whether I'm there or not. In class, I have a responsibility to my classmates. If the class is discussion-based and I haven't read, or if I haven't completed my online work, I haven't benefited anyone. I am dead weight that they have to carry along. So maybe there is a reason to feel guilty.

And I guess people are responsible for one another in church, too. We all have responsibility to each other. We encourage one another, hear one another, pray for one another. When a person isn't there, they aren't fulfilling their responsibility. They're breaking their part of the covenant as a member of the community. Sure, you're not going to be around every week, but when someone gratuitously misses, they're letting me down. And when I miss, I'm letting them down.

So, maybe people should feel a little guilt for missing church. By nature it's different than a bar. When people miss, maybe I want them to feel a little bad. Maybe they should apologize for missing. And maybe I should apologize for missing. But when we apologize, if we know why we're apologizing, maybe it can be received. Not, "I'm sorry I missed," but "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you last week." And instead of, "Don't worry about it!" or "It's okay," what if I said, "I missed you last week. I accept your apology. And I'm glad to see you this week. I need you here."? If these words are honest, they may be helpful in our understanding of what missing church means.

That occurred in about 30-seconds in my head.

Thoughts?

Inter-Denominationalism. "We are because we have been."

"If I was baptized Catholic, how do I get rid of it?"

Posed by a fellow student in my class a few years ago, the answer to this question gets at the heart of inter-denominationalism. (Man, that's a big word. ID from now on.)

There are many different denominations, or brands, of Christianity. There are even churches who claim to be non-denominational (ND). But I have yet to attend a church that calls itself "inter-denominational."

What's the difference between an ID church and a ND? While NDs usually refrain from liturgy and ritual, shying away from mainline traditions in order to jump straight from the text of the Bible to the 21st century, an ID church owns up to its history, and more importantly, the history of its members.

A church congregation is the sum of its parts. Any ND church has the potential to house Baptists, Lutherans, Methodists, Roman Catholics, and more. They become a unified amalgamation of their parts by disowning their respective traditions in order to create a new culture.

The ID church strives for something a little different. Instead of leaving their respective histories behind, each person or family brings their traditions with them. Perhaps a favorite hymn, the sign of the cross, an Easter Sunday tradition, whatever it may be. It could be a prayer, action, or bit of theology. Granted, mixing small bits of theology can be messy, but there is a reason it can work.

ID churches commit to the truths found in the Nicene creed and greater Christian orthodoxy. They are founded and agree on the primary issues of the faith. (i.e. Jesus was a historical person, who died and rose again.) But on issues of secondary importance, diversity is allowed. (i.e. How is Christ present in the Eucharist? Or, Is baptism for infants or adults?)

In an age where (as we discussed in the last post and related comments) orthodox, practiced Christianity is declining, the church is finding ways to survive. Part of survival mode is waving good-bye to small differences and banding together to preserve the foundational elements of the gospel.

So, what was the answer to the question? How does one get rid of one's "Catholicness?"

It doesn't happen. It will always be a part of that person. And it's a part that can enrich someone who can't disown their history.

I'm a fan of the idea of ID churches.

I just hope they all have kneelers.

For your listening pleasure...

My Jan 24 sermon is on the site!

It's in the box on the left-hand side under "Download Sermons." (It streams as well.) As of this morning, it should be the first one that comes up. It's called, "What's Your Story?"

I haven't even listened to it yet, only the very beginning, and I know they cut out a couple preface items I found humorous. Ah well. Maybe on the video.

Non-Denominationalism. "We are because we are not."

"Is your church non-denominational?"

When I tell people about my church, that's a typical question. Either that, or simply, "What denomination are you?"

What does that mean? And why is it such a common question?

Christianity as a faith tradition is very broad. Under that large umbrella title are at least three major headings: Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox and Protestant. All three of these align on primary doctrinal issues. Within Protestantism there are a ridiculous number of denominations, or smaller groups that define themselves on secondary doctrinal issues. Some of the more popular (aka "mainline") include Lutheran, Methodist, Baptist, Anglican, Reformed and so on.

The majority of these denominations have their roots in the 15th-17th centuries. When Christianity was a majority religion it made sense that each group with a slightly different interpretation on the lesser items of Scripture would have its own building and format. In effect, each group splintered off until the shards of Protestantism were scattered across the world.

We've reached an interesting point in church history. In most of the world, Christianity is no longer a majority religion. Even in the USA, it seems that every religion is tolerated, unless you're Christian. The shift from majority to minority has also resulted in smaller churches trying to survive, and it's just not happening. Churches close all the time.

Part of the move to save the church was the appearance of non-denominational churches. These churches would have some sort of doctrine, of course, but wouldn't be aligned with any of the mainline traditions listed above. They would often refer to themselves as "just Christian."

My experience with non-denom churches has generally been good. My one gripe is that they have the tendency to shy away from anything that's too "Catholic," or too "liturgical," or too anything, really. By not having affiliation with any pre-existing group, they look to the Bible and the 21st century for their identity.

That leaves me wanting.

Finding a Church

Finding a church is ridiculously difficult.

Location, doctrine, style, length, community, ministries… it’s like a Christmas wish list, and whether you’ve been naughty or nice really doesn’t help.

It took me about 5 months of coming to Living Hope Church meetings before I decided it was a community I wanted to become a commited part of. “Statistics say” (um… yeah) that it takes 6-12 months before a person feels a part of a community. That sounds about right.

We all want that love-at-first-sight feeling when we are looking for a new church, but just like the rest of life, it barely happens. And if it does, it’s usually a little while before the honeymoon phase is over and you realize the magic is gone. Then, time for a new church.

If you visit LHC, you’ll probably fall into one of three groups:

1. You’ll realize after one service that it really isn’t for you. (5%) - On to the next church.
2. You’ll fall head-over-heels in love with the people and the church. (5%) - Buy the ring and plan the wedding.
3. You’ll find a couple things you like, maybe some you don’t, and some you aren’t sure about. But it has potential. (90%)

If you find yourself in this last group, as I did, I invite you to come several times. Take the initiative to meet some people and let them know you’re new. Especially in a new congregation, we’re all new, so don’t be surprised if no one realized it’s your first time.

Say hello to some of the musicians (they’re nice), Pastor Sam, myself, and ask some questions. Get to know a bit about where the church hopes to go. See if your desires for Jesus working in the world match with LHC. If they do, come on back a few times. If not, keep seeking where the Lord might be taking you and repeat the process.

Finding a church isn’t easy, but it’s easier when those seeking learn to ask the right questions.

Godspeed, Spider-man.

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This post taken from a forum post of mine at livinghopeforwhatmatters.org

Finding a Church

Looking for a church is more difficult than buying a used car;
at least in the latter you'll know that someone will talk to you.

I've been to 10 churches in 4 months since I moved to Illinois. This past Sunday I returned for a second visit to Lombard Christian Reformed Church. Since I moved up here I wanted to stop in, so I did, and now I've gone twice. Both times I encountered hospitable members who made time to talk to my friends and me. One family even had three of us over for lunch after service on Sunday!

One friend and I met with one of the members today to talk about the church. I really appreciated all he had to say. I think it may be a good fit. It just feels right.

In my experience, God is paving a way for each part of life. Some pieces just fit. And they always seem to fit right when I need them to the most.

Papers and Pastors - Theology in Practice (cont'd)

I'm still working on my last paper from the quarter that ended several weeks ago. I heard that only getting one extension means I'm doing well.

My working thesis (developed from Webber's Ancient-Future Evangelism) is that when Constantine converted, the church received so many initiates in such a short time that they were unable to be properly catechized. Therefore, the level of commitment and orthodoxy in the Church decreased. The application is that if modern churches were to have a more developed initiation process, the level of commitment to church teaching and to church families would be greatly increased.

After speaking to several pastors, it appears my hunch is correct.

One pastor whose church was featured in a recent book entitled Comeback Churches expressly stated how having high expectations of members brings more out of them. To be a member in that particular church, one must commit to serve. If one is unwilling to commit to service and to the church mission, they can come sit in the pews, but they will not be a member. As a result, most members are actively involved and the church is experiencing continued growth, both in width and depth.

Another pastor of a completely different church in style and method believes strongly in the initiation process laid out by the Apostolic Tradition. It begins in Advent and continues through baptism at Easter and even further for more discipleship. This process for them has been very effective.

I'm still developing the idea and writing, but as of now my conclusion is that the initiation process does directly impact the entire future of the church because it innately expresses what is required of the new member - service in the Church to the glory of God's kingdom.

DL

Theology and Ministry: A "both/and" proposition.

I've learned a few lessons as a performing songwriter.

1. Never publish anything you wouldn't want everyone to hear.
2. Never criticize your audience.
3. If you're interested in writing pop songs, the songs aren't good until an audience approves them.

I've just finished my first quarter in grad school, working towards a master's in theological studies. As far as Christian learning goes, there are two general territories.

I operate in the Ivory Tower. I get to look at books, examine theories, make claims about theology in practice that logically should work, and call those who are out in ministry idiots because they don't care about academic study since it's just theoretical.

The other position to have is to be down in the trenches. These are the people that work with the congregations, have fluid, ever-changing theories drawn out of experience, make attempts to do ministry better by trial and error, and call those who are in the Ivory Tower idiots because they aren't in the thick of it, and they're just not practical.

I guess one more division couldn't hurt Christianity, eh?

I have a problem trying to decide which one of these two M.O.'s is the "better" one. Using songwriter lesson #3 above, I see a chance to take this division and bring it to a place of "both/and".

The advantage that theologians have is that we are able to see a broader picture of the church at work throughout history, and make corrective suggestions to maintain both orthodoxy and orthopraxy. For example, without looking at the effects of modernism, how could we know we are ministering in a post-modern culture? Without taking time to examine the church year and Jewish festivals, would we ever consider that celebrating communion weekly rather than quarterly is more in keeping with Christian tradition and theology? These are the things we can worry about because we aren't planning seeker-sensitive services and making sure we have candles for communion Sunday. On the other hand, we tend to have idealistic views of how things should be, even when how they should be could be harmful for a community.

The advantage of being in the ministry is being able to sense the needs of a particular community in a particular time and place. It holds the unique opportunity of contextualizing faith in order to reach a specific group of people. Ministers are the ones being the hands and feet of Christ, bringing his message to the world and continuing in God's redemptive work of all creation. At the same time, ministry can produce bad theology. A committed community of faith can fall victim to preaching sermons that disregard Christianity apart from their Sunday group of gatherers; or it could be so concerned with social justice that it reduces Jesus from God to social liberator.

As I write I can't help but think, "How is this blog going to change anything?" I believe that feeling of inadequacy demonstrates the point well enough. When we are writing about the faith, we can only get so far, but perhaps we can be a catalyst for change. When we are practicing the faith, we can make the change, but maybe we can seek guidance from others.

When it's all said and done, the Church is in need of both: theologians and ministers. As I have learned, a pop song isn't considered good until an audience approves it. And as I am learning, theology must resign itself to the testing ground of the church before it can be approved.

DL