early adopters pt. 2

“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch will pull away from the garment, making the tear worse. Neither do people pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst; the wine will run out, and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved.” (Matthew 9:16-17, TNIV)

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“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others:

“ ‘We played the pipe for you,
and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge,
and you did not mourn.’ (Matthew 11:16-17, TNIV)

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Earlier I wrote about how most of the folks here in the Midwest aren't early adopters - we aren't usually very quick to embrace and adopt new ideas.  I think this impacts our church culture here in a few ways:

It's difficult to build and encourage an innovative church culture.  We prefer to do old things in a different way rather than think about doing away with the old and venture into something new.  The question of "Is this a good idea?" usually takes a backseat to the question of "Are our people ready for this?"

We fear the complaints from the "already in" rather than hear the cries of the "not yet found."  Rather than brainstorm new, fresh, relevant, risky, powerful, and compelling ways to preach the gospel to our fallen and broken world, we worry about what so-and-so might think, wonder about how to get such-and-such to understand, or fear the angry email/anonymous note/awkward conversation on Monday.

We lack and/or lose sight of vision, and the courage it takes to achieve it.  Maybe we really catch on to the vision and pursue it vigilantly at the start, but we second guess ourselves at the first sign of someone's discomfort with it.  Maybe we let the one vocal detractor or pocket of vocal detractors dictate our perception of the vision's viability and strength.  Maybe we let other voices drown out God's.  Regardless, we are quick to think that we're alone, fighting against a current of opposition, get discouraged, and sometimes even quit.

I wonder what it would be like if we promoted and protected a culture of early adopters, where we were constantly trying new things to reach out to the lost, uplift the gospel, and bring glory to God?

For the record, I think that even the old can be new in some instances... but that's for the next post.

early adopters (bridge)

In my previous post, I talked a little about how we in the Midwest aren't often quick to warm up to new ideas.

I promised a second part to that post.  It's coming soon.

But today, these two nuggets came my way.  I think they'll serve as a nice bridge between parts 1 and 2.

Jesus was an early adopter.

And in order to thrive, churches must be as well.

we're not early adopters.

"Early adopters" are people who adapt and embrace change quickly.  They are often the first to embrace a trend.  They are the ones who waited in line for the iPhone's release, eBay-ed a Wii, switched to being a cell phone-only family... you get the idea.

I don't live in a culture dominated by early adopters.  

I live in a smaller-sized city in the northeastern part of Iowa.

Now, I'd say that I live in a community comprised of some early adopters.

But, by and large, most of us midwesterners are not early adopters.  It's just not really a part of our culture here.  We're notorious for being skeptical, slow to adopt a trend, and more comfortable with the stylings of decades gone by.

Examples?  The Gap came and left.  It took forever for us to have 3G cell phone service.  It's big news when a Sonic franchise finally comes to town.

I have a love-hate relationship with this part of our culture.  Here's what I love about it:

• Overall, we're much less materialistic than other areas of the country.  We don't have to have the newest gadgets, gizmos, clothes, etc.  
• We live life at a much healthier pace.  Granted, our diets are a lot worse than some other parts of the country.  But we don't live at such a frenetic pace as those other places that live and die on the next trend.
• We compare ourselves to one another to a lesser degree.  We don't have to live in cookie-cutter neighborhoods where the list of community standards is longer than a 16-year-old girl's birthday wish list.
• We're more comfortable in our own skin.  I'm not driven by the need to convince you that I'm relevant, ahead of the times, or in-the-know by my possessions or appearance.
• We embrace, promote, and protect a higher quality of life.  Here you can go on a walk.  Here you actually take vacation.  Here family is important and much of our extended family is close by.  Here you aren't afraid to go outside.  We go to our kids' games, hunt and fish, prize education, and enjoy the simple things as we live within our means.

But here's what I hate about it:

• We let too many good ideas pass by.  We put way too many obstacles and standards and filters in front of a new idea.  If it's different, every last facet of its difference must be put under the microscope before it's even tried... much less adopted.
• We're too focused on the past and not focused enough on the future.  We enjoy reminiscing about times gone by more than we enjoy dreaming of what could be.
• We value our own comfort too much.  There's a reason why we're more obese than many other parts of the country, and why "comfort food" most likely has a Midwestern origin.  If it makes us uncomfortable, we're probably not going to try it.  If it's comfortable, we'll probably consume too much of it.
• Momentum is a plant not easily grown in our soil.  Too many questions, too many detractors, too many stick-in-the-muds, too many people unwilling to sign on or sign up or give it a try or change their lives to get the flywheel moving.
• We're insulated.  We put our trust in our mistrust of outsiders.  We sometimes wear irrelevance like it's a badge.  We surround ourselves with the familiar over the new.  We are forever in danger of creating a world that is a fixed point in time rather than living with the world as it develops.

The next post will have to do with how I see this impacting our church culture.  But until then: do you agree?  Disagree?  Why?

unity = mediocrity - vision + fear

I think our concept of unity sometimes deviates from the unity I see in Scripture and in some thriving churches.

I think our concept of unity more closely resembles mediocrity.  Mediocrity - settling for what everybody is comfortable with rather than pushing for the right decision to be made, even if it means conflict.  It's managing around differing viewpoints and opinions rather than examining them openly.  It's allowing someone's weakness, insecurity, agenda, or forcefulness to dictate what we communicate to them, alter the course of discussion, or direct the path to a decision.  The end result is always mediocre - never as good as it could have been.  But, we did everything we could to limit conflict and keep everyone happy.

Is this really unity - the unity that God desires, or that Scripture calls for?  I think it more resembles a pseudo-spiritual principle of being nice.  Unity isn't unity if what we're unified around is mediocrity.  Unity doesn't settle.

Why do we in the name of unity so often settle for mediocrity?  Because we lack vision.  We lack vision.  We forget that things can be different than what they are, or than what they've always been.  We're unwilling to consider that things should be different than what they are or have always been.  Maybe we don't think that we're able to cast a vision that will change people's minds and hearts.  Or perhaps we're unwilling to call people to the vision.  More likely, we're not confident that our vision is God's vision.  And so when we have to count the cost of following after the vision, our first reaction is to do a head count of who we think might go along, rather than clearly articulating the pure and burning vision that God has set before us.

Which leads me to the single most potent agent that muddies up our concept of unity: fear.  We are afraid of conflict.  We're afraid to call someone out.  We're afraid of being wrong ourselves.  We're afraid of an unforseen or uncalculated outcome.  We're afraid that God won't show up.  We're afraid to take a risk.  We're afraid of responding too defensively or too forcefully.  We're afraid to stir up the pot.  We're afraid of being misunderstood.  We're afraid of causing damage or harm.  We're afraid of failing.

And so rather than confront our fear, we retreat into the crowd, bow to whoever is the loudest, defer to whoever is the most vocal about their discomfort, and keep the peace.

I'd rather be unified around a gospel that overturns moneychanging tables, gets labeled as gluttony or drunkenness, offends the overly religious, sets captive people free, relies on the Holy Spirit, and picks fights with the power brokers...


...than a pseudo-gospel that everyone agrees upon but actually does nothing.

gluttony

The last time I posted in this blog was October 22, 2009.

It is now March 15, 2010.

That is almost 5 months.

It has been 5 months of gluttony.

Gluttony.  Taking it in.  Taking it all in.  Taking more in.  More information.  More experiences.  More challenges.  More tasks.  More lessons.  More questions.

More, more, more.

But what have I actually done with with all of this intake?  What am I putting out there?

Well, on the one hand, a lot.  A heckuva lot.  (I wish I could use that term heckuva more often.)  I've programmed services.  I've led meetings for all of our volunteers.  I've coached my staff.  I've taken on a few people outside of my staff to mentor.  I've helped to launch another campus.  I've posted a lot on our ministry's blog about this and that, upcoming events, prayer requests, etc.

But in all of this, I don't really feel like I've really contributed an awful lot.

In fact, I feel exactly the opposite: I feel like I've let my unique contributions and creations fall away in favor of the to do list, the task at hand, the rhythms of my calendar and meetings, expectations, responsibilities, projects, etc.

Just what are my unique contributions and creations?

This.  What I write.  What I think.  What I am wrestling with.  What I am challenged by.

What the Spirit is raising up in me.  Where God is calling me.  How God is correcting me and growing me.

I've let my unique contributions and creations fall away for several reasons:

I feel like someone else has probably already said it, and said it better than me.  While this is probably true, this mode of thinking fails to take into account the fact that I am still responsible for saying it to the people God has entrusted to me.  Even if it is just sharing what someone else has said.  Even if it is posting a link.  Even if it is simply providing my own reaction.  Simply because someone else has already said it does not mean that I'm not responsible to say it, say it differently, say it again, or say something completely different.  God has gifted me with the ability to write and speak.  I let this gift go at my own peril, and at the peril of others.  Reaction is creation in its own way.

I feel like my best energies can and should be spent on something else - something more pressing, more important, more concrete, more unselfish.  Long story short, I've let others dictate how my best energies are to be spent.  That's not their fault.  It's mine.  But what I've learned is that taking the time write, think, react, respond, etc. is what keeps me clear.  It's what keeps me going.  It's what keeps me on an appropriate edge.  It's what motivates me to challenge others.  It gives me vision and confidence to call people from where they are to where God wants them to go.  In the long run, it's hard to think of a lot of things that are more important or that can have a greater kingdom impact than this.

I feel like the things that I really want to write about will probably cause more trouble than good.  This is a slippery one for me.  Sometimes it is all to easy for me to stir the pot in the name of Jesus without the Spirit of Jesus.  But when I'm at my best, I feel like there is no obstacle that can't be removed, misunderstanding that can't be corrected, fuzziness that can't be clarified, or truth that can't be explained and entered into as I write about it, wrestle with it, and am faithful to what God has put on my heart concerning it.  And in those instances, it almost always involves some sort of collision with a commonly held assumption, a sin hiding underneath the trappings of religiosity, a biblical principle misunderstood or misapplied, or a sentiment that is protected by Christian culture but confronted by Christ.  I love, love, love setting our captive minds and spirits free from these traps and trappings with the sometimes controversial but always radical Way, Truth, and Life.

So no more gluttony.  No more taking in without putting more out.  It's time stop doing just what's expected of me.  It's time again to be the me that God created me to be.