Put your body into it!

I've been working on a new book about faith, and the part it plays in our lives.  My working title is The Faith Matrix.  This subject has led me to study about the spiritual disciplines--meditation, prayer, fasting, Bible study,  celebration, confession,  service, submission,  giving, and so on. I've found some really great books on the subject,  Richard Foster's Celebration of Disciplkne,  Gordon McDonald's Ordering hour Private World, and Donald Whitner's books on the spiritual disciplines, just to mention a very few. But as I have studied the others, one author keeps coming up in the works of the others--Dallas Willard. Willard is a weird combination of evangelical Christian and philosopher, who writes broadly and deeply about Christian spirituality in his book,  Spirit of the Disciplines. 
At first I was put off by the book,  It's very thickly written, and full of references to a broad range of Christian thinkers, from fundamentalists to liberation theologians.  However,  once I took the time to take it slowly, I started to realize just how deep this book really is. 
I can't possibly discuss everything worthwhile in the book in a few short paragraphs, but one concept I will mention.  It is impossible to be spiritual without being physical.  We are physical creatures, impossible to separate completely from this world.  We were set on this earth to have dominion over it.  To fulfill the first command of God we had to multiply and rule over the world.  That involves a bodily presence on the earth. Jesus redeemed us in the body, by dying on the cross. He taught us salvation and gave us means of grace to receive His gift.  We take communion, are baptized.  To show his love for his disicples, he washed his disciples feet.
Jesus expressed his love for God physical ways, too--fasting for forty days in the desert, going away for long periods of time in prayer.  Risking His life to go back and forth to Jerusalem to worship in the temple.  He put his body into it. Jesus devoted himself to spiritual disciplines  by physical actions.
 Consider how we worship God.  We can think of all kinds of ways to keep from going out of our way to worship.  We tell ourselves that special times of prayer are not necessary.  We can pray in the shower or in the car.  We don't have to gather in churches. (What a hassle the traffic can be!)  No, we can turn on the TV and hear a good sermon. We can encourage our brothers on facebook.  If we could skype our prayers, we would.
The same thing is true of the disciplines of denial.  Why deny the flesh with fasting--or even dieting?  Why practice simplicity, when it is so much fun to shop?  We need to listen to the news, so we can know what to pray about, don't we?  Somehow, we manage to find  ways of avoiding every difficult aspect of Christian self denial, finding reasons for believing different in our minds, but keeping our habits just like everyone else's.
I do not believe that our actions gets us one whit closer to God than our inaction. God brought grace to us through Christ, we don't earn it.  Nevertheless,  we weren't just saved from something, such as sin. We were saved for something,  which is to serve God with our bodies.
Paul put it very well when he said "For it is by grace we are saved through faith,  and that not of ourselves.  It is a gift of God, not of works, so that no one can boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works." In other words, God saved our souls from sin, but he saved our bodies for His work.  That is what we are meant to do.  Prayer,  fasting,  service, submission, and loving others by actions are not just good ideas. They are our purpose in life.  

Seven Reasons for Christians to be Environmentalists That Don't Have a Thing to do With Global Warming

I hate the whole global warming debate--mainly because there isn't much debating.  Skeptics of global warming would not believe it if they fried an egg on their sidewalk in winter.  Meanwhile,  global warming advocates apparently believe the best way to  convince opponents is to exaggerate evidence and cry heretic.  If either side wants to make converts, they should be less shrill and more realistic.

Frankly,  I don't know what to believe about global warming (excuse me climate change, I forgot they changed it again) But what concerns me more is that in all this discussion about global warming obscures real obvious damage to the environment that seem to be completely overlooked in the argument . There is copious evidence of the heavy boot prints of humanity on the earth that have nothing to do with global warming.

A Christian does not have to believe in global  warming to be concerned about the environment,  and you don't have to be a New Ager to have be a tree hugger.   The Bible contains many reasons for being concerned that have nothing to do with climate change. Here are a few:

1. The kingdom mandate Genesis 1:26

"Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground."

Humanity rules over the earth in God's stead.   So--what kind of rulers are we supposed to be?  If God gave us the mandate to rule,  doesn't it make sense that we should at least try to be the same kind of ruler God is?   Either  we are called to dominate the world, tear it up  as we wish, or to rule gently,  leaving it better than we came.  Are we tyrants  or benevolent kings?  Adam and Eve were put into the garden of Eden to dress and keep it, not to strip mine.  It's hard to imagine God intended us to commit environmental abuse.

2. God's possessions  "The earth is the Lord's and everything in it." Psalm 24:1

However we may wish to interpret the kingdom mandate, Christians must accept that God owns the earth.  Now suppose someone you invited into your home as a welcome guest,  threw oil on your lawn,  messed up your bathroom, threw detergent in your pool and kicked your dog. Even if they did it with no malicious intent, would you be pleased?

3. "Love not the world, neither the things of this world." Let us assume that there is nothing to global warming, that pollution is  a minor inconvenience, and that the earth's supplies of raw materials are inexhaustible.  How should we live, then?   We seem to be obsessed with using more and more of the earth's resources, whether we need them or not.  We act as if happiness can be obtained by acquiring, owning, and seeking material comforts.  It has not worked in the past to bring us happiness.  Materialism hurts us, because it draws us from satisfaction with God to seeking satisfaction with worldly things. It will not work in the future.  We should take Thoreau's advice--"Simplify, simplify."
4. "Our bodies are God's temple."      Do we really think it's healthy to drink polluted water, breathe polluted air,  and eat polluted food?  We may scoff at those who exaggerate the dangers of pollutants in our food and water (and there are plenty of people who do) but they have a point. How much build up of waste products can our bodies take before it becomes more than a nuisance?  Does anyone want to gamble that we can never hurt the earth, or ourselves?
5. The  Millennial reign.  OK, this may be a stretch, but it's worth mentioning anyway.   Many Christians believe that there will be a millennium,  a thousand years at the end of civilization, when God's kingdom will be established on earth. During this time,  Christ will reign on earth. If there is such a time,  then what purpose would it serve, except as a time of global cleaning.  The millenium is a time like the time just before we left for a trip when my children were young, when we would say to them "We're not leaving until you clean up your mess!" Maybe the millennium is a time when God says "You messed it up--now you clean it up!"
6. Aesthetic witness.  "The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmanment shows forth His handiwork."  God wants the earth to be beautiful, and he wants it to stay beautiful for aesthetic as well as practical reasons.  We clean our homes and our yards to make them beautiful--why would we think that God would want the rest of the world to be neglected?
7. Thy Kingdom come."   We pray for God's leadership  to extend over all the earth. If nothing else, we should take care of the earth out of reverence for God. Doesn't God's government of the earth include a rightful ecological balance? Is it fair to suggest that we alone of all God's creatures are exempt for doing His bidding, and not responsible for what we do to God's other creatures?

These are neither precise scientific or ecological reasons. I confess that I do not have all the answers, nor do I expect anyone to embrace all my reasons. But if you accept any one of them, you have to admit that whether or not we agree with  global warming, we should be sensitive to the environment, and do all we can to protect it. 

Chloe's Violin

My granddaughter Chloe is learning to play the violin.

Chloe is a really delightful child, full of passion and sassy.  She is beautiful, witty, and tempramental.  She loves music;  she always has.  She comes over to my house and wants to play on my guitars. I sometimes let her plunck on the cheaper of the two, and she would say "Grandpa, do you like my music?"

One day I answered "That's not music."

She got a look on your face like I  had just hit her in the gut. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"You are beautiful," I  answered. "That's just noise."

It's fun to watch Chloe, in whatever she does--laugh, dance,  beat on a drum, play the guitar. I could watch her for hours.  Everything she does is a dance to me, every word she says is music.

But plunking on my guitar is not music. 

Now, Chloe is learning to play the violin--and she's making music and it really is beautiful--sometimes.

I am a little concerned about that.  Can a little girl with such a fire for life channel that fire through a bowstring?  Will she be enthusiastic about it for a while, until it turns into work,  and then let it drop going back into the fantasy of pretend music, or will she go on to the place where she will make beautiful music as a virtuoso violinist?  Will the music she feels inside of her own heart go out to others with  the same zest she feels inside?  I hope so. But I know for that to happen, she must work long and hard,  disciplining herself to get the music out.

When we are young, we have music  inside--we all do.  We want to let that music out, but we do not have the ability.  We plunk tunelessly on guitars and pianos,  we make karate kicks at invisible opponents,  we run marathons in our imaginations or score winning touchdowns.  Other people call it "pretending" but it's not really a pretense. It is our attempt to display the image of God we know inside.  We were made to do great things, to master the universe, each in our own unique way.

But we find we can't do it without discipline.  At some point,  fantasy runs into reality, and we give up at the difficulty of living. Unexpressed, the music dies.  As we grow older, we forget the tune. 

There is a natural rhythm in live, a kind of "donut" of passion with a hole in the middle called "drudgery." We begin a new endeavor enthusiastically.  We are eager to pick up a musical instrument, take up exercise, or to begin a quiet time with God.  In our minds, we imagine ourselves to be a great musician,  athlete, or saint. That imaginary future success sustains us for a while, and we feed off the joy of the imaginary, but it isn't real. It's not even a real hope, but a wish,  so it doesn't last long.  After a day, a week, or month, we start to get bored with it.  Our passion goes on to something else.  We get bored, and what began as  music soon becomes a mindless drone.

But we keep plugging away,  not because we want to, but because we know we should.  We make a choice of passions. We are tempted by other things which promise a momentary joy, but we do not give in to them. We deny them, because we know that all temptation is a form of adultery, a call to cheat on our first love.  We keep at it, running laps,  scratching on the violin,  reading the Bible through the "begat" chapters and the endless complaints of the prophets,  until somewhere inside the drudgery we see the glimmers of real music and real joy, not the pretend joy of the beginning but the realized joy of knowing what we are doing and doing it well. 

I heard a statement recently about practicing music, that if you really want to be good at is you should practice two hours a day. The first hour is rote repetition, scales, skill building, while the second hour is pure joy.  We can't get to the joy part without the drudgery.  A ballerina spends hours practicing forms, bending at the bar,  starving herself,  building endurance,  so that she can perform magic on the stage.  A magician practices his sleight of hand until his fingers almost fall off, and until he can't stand to look at another card.  Then he starts to do real magic.  A saint gets callouses on his knees  in silence--fasting, praying, reading,  meditating, until he can come to that place of seeing visions of third heaven.  There is no easy way through the dark night of the soul, but there is a fiery dawn on the other side. 

So Chloe is learning the violin.  One day, it may sit alone in her closet gathering dust, like my guitar did for years, her mother's viola, or that old exercise machine we were going to use every week.  I hope not, though. I hope she will be wiser than we are while she is young enough to enjoy it; that she will work through the drudgery of discipline until the music she has on the inside can come out of her fingers and amaze the world. 

The Spirit and the Word

There's a book I've had in me to write for years.  I've started a couple of times, but never finished it. But every time I do, I get off on something else.  Nevertheless,  every time I start to look around at the things of God, I see that book staring me in the face.  It's like those people who see Jesus' face on toast or doorknobs.  I keep running across the central idea.  The Spirit and the Word are everywhere.

The essence of the book is basically that God reveals His will to us in two ways--through the Word and through the Spirit, and that all people, especially all of us Believers, tend to see God better through one of those two channels. It's like being left handed or right handed, or left brained or right brained. We are either Word oriented or Spirit oriented.  We may be one or the other, but both sides ar equally necessary.

I could get Biblical about this , of course. There is a lot to be said Biblically and Theologically about the differences and complimentary relationship between Spirit and Word, but I would rather at the moment look at it semantically.  What is a Word, and what is Spirit?

A word is a sound of symbol which defines a position in the logical matrix of life.  It is like a gps tracking point,  a latitude and longitute.  A word defines a person, object, or idea as being different from all others, uniquely itself. 

Take, for example the word "chair".  That word has a specific meaning to us,  that separates it from all other thoughts.  The actual sound of the word may be different in different languages, of course, as might the image the word produces in the mind, but the essential truth is that it defines a spot in reality,  which separates it from all other  ideas.  A chair is a place we sit. It is not a place we lie down, or that we stand  upon. It is a thing made for sitting.  

We might add other words to it to separate one chair from another-the  "green chair",  the "comfortable chair" the "small chair."  Our modifiers define tighter and tighter ideas, creating more specific pictures in the mind.

Now, what is meant by the Word of God?  To say Jesus is the Word, is to say that He was a walking, talking symbol of God Himself.  He was what God is,  He becomes his walking definition.  Just as we might think of a beautiful woman, and it might bring to mind a famous actress,  or we might think of a wise man, and that brings the idea of a politician, writer, or minister,  so when we think of God, Christ comes to mind.  He is God's expression.

The Word of God, the Bible is much the same thing.  The Bible is a series of words,  each one bringing its own image or symbol, which together bring to mind an increasingly narrow and specific understanding of what God wants in the World. The words become harbor lights and beacons to  keep us on the right path.

Spirit, though is something else entirely.

If a word is a dot in the matrix of what its possible, then spirit is an arrow, a direction of motion.  In the Bible, the Spirit is always on the move.  He moved over the waters in Genesis. He moved Elijah into the wilderness. He pushed Jesus out into the desert.  He is depicted as a flying dove,  a tornado, a raging fire, a mighty wind.  The spirit is the divine in motion.

Now, when we give directions, we must have location and directions.  "Go to the traffic light. Turn left"  "Go to Elm Street. Go right." With location and direction, we can go anywhere.  Without either, we go nowhere.  We need both form and function.

In the Spiritual realm,  we also need both. We need to know the truth, and we need to know what God would have us to do with it.  It is no good having the right theology unless we have the power to do something about it. 

In Genesis 2,  God created Adam out of dust.  Then he breathed into him the breath of life. Which is more important, the dust or the breath?  It would be impossible to say.  Dust without breath is death,  breath without vessel to inhabit is just hot air. 

Through the Bible in FIve Years

9:26 AM

Why does the Bible need to be read so quickly?  What's the hurry?

There seems to be an obsession in some believers about how many times, and how quickly, they can read the Bible. I have had people tell me that they have read the Bible a dozen times, or that they read the Bible annually, or that their church us encouraging people to read the Bible through in a year's time. 

I repeat--what's the hurry?

Reading the Bible quickly is not the same as reading it deeply.  Quick reading does not generally change lives.  Whenever we have a book which means a great deal to us,  we want to savor every word.  Great thoughts need to marinate for a while, so that they become part of our bones and flesh.  Quick readings have their use, but so do careful slow readings.  You can't fix a gourmet meal in a microwave; you can't grow an oak tree in double time;  you can't paint a masterpiece with a spray gun, and you can't fill up on great writing by rushing through it.

Mortimer Adler in his classic book How To Read a Book  suggests that a great book requires at least three readings--one to get the general structure, one for detailed comprehension, and one for  wording.   The same can be said for Bible study--we need to read it at least three times to  get the full effect.

Here are some suggestions to read the Bible in five years.

1. First, set off a set time and place daily for Bible study.  Start with at least fifteen minutes, but gradually increase to thirty or more.  Don't think that reading the Bible slowly is not goal oriented.  We need goals, which is why through-the-Bible-in-a-year programs are so popular. Your goal is different, however, when you read for comprehension. It isn't to cover pages but to comprehend ideas.
2. Second,  pre-study the Bible.  Pray first, of course. That is essential.  Then  read about the Bible book you are studying in a commentary or general survey,  so you have a general idea about what you are reading. It's helpful if you are going to read a book like Romans or Ephesians to know a little bit about Paul before you start. 
3. Third.  Read it like a newspaper, for the story.  Skim the whole thing at once, if possible.  If not, at least read the passage you are studying for overall meaning, following the natural form of the writing.  Psalms were written to be appreciated all at once; so were letters of Paul and oracles in the prophets.  The Gospels were written in pericopes, which could be monologues or stories.  Read them that way first.

4. Go back and read for comprehension. The second time you read through the passage stop and notice the details.  You will want to underline points and take notes, so get a Bible you don't mind marking.  Ask questions, get answers, until you have a good, solid knowledge of the passage at hand. Ask  - "What did this mean for the people to whom it was written?"
5.  Read for meaning.  Go back again, this time asking yourself, what it means today.  We can't just take the Bible and apply it directly today--otherwise, we would not be triming our beards, eating catfish, or wearing mixed cloth.  We have to ask "What does it mean for us today?"

6. Finally, read it devotionally.  Martin Luther was big on this idea.  He suggested we read it asking if there are any prayers to pray, examples to follow or avoid,  any praises to make, or attitudes we need to change. This is the slowest reading of them all.  Take your time, and prayerfully seek God to apply each verse to your life.

As I said, you can't do this in one year, unless you have all day to do it. Fortunately, there is no time limit on reading the Bible. Take as much time as you  want, only do not let any drop of meaning go unnoticed. Read it for all that it's worth. 

Thirty Days, Thirty Minutes, follow up

When I wrote my blog "Thirty Minutes , Thirty Days"  I hoped that someone would come forward that would take up the challenge.  Well, someone has.  We are looking to start after Easter.

Anyone want to join us in an experiment in prayer? Let's see what God will do! 

Who are Holier--Ministers or Truck Drivers?

I wonder who is holier--ministers or truck drivers? 

I'd put my money on truck drivers.

I know, I know--ministers talk a lot about God  They teach others to be holy, spend long hours in the Bible, pray often  in public.  They even dress holy--especially those who wear their collars backwards. But all this is just external. Holiness is an internal quality.  The outside doesn't matter.  A man in a suit with a Bible in hand isn't made holy by his appearance any more than a child with a stethoscope is made a doctor.  So we can discount all that stuff as a sign.

We can discount ordination and a seminary education, too.  I read once of a man who  sent off to an online church and got his pig ordained. As far as seminary--anyone who thinks a seminary education makes a person holy should spend some time in a seminary.  Most of them will let anyone in who has the money and the grades.  Seminaries are businesses that give degrees to anyone who earns  it.  You can be a real jerk and get a seminary degree,  provided you're also a smart jerk with cash.

No,  I would think that holiness has something to do with one's time with God.  A holy person puts God first,  spends time with Him,  talks to Him, and listens to Him. 

Now, your average preacher in the course of a day, does not spend much time actually with God.   He is on his cell phone more often than he is on his knees.  He is  generally  talking, talking, talking --preaching, teaching, Bible studies, going on visits,  attending committee meetings and social events,  and so forth.  When he isn't talking, he's studying--but not to get closer to God. He studies so he has something to talk about. He is looking for illustrations, quotations, and insights that he can pass on to other people, so he can look smart and keep his job.

When  he is not talking, he is visiting, or as we like to say "out among the people."  Being "out among the people" is very important, because the people he is out among are watching him. They want make sure he is friendly, courteous,  and concerned.  Most of all, they want him to act like he knows what he is doing, so that when everything falls apart, there will be one man who  doesn't.   For that reason, the minister has to be concerned about how he acts, dresses, and behaves-- all  outward acts which have nothing to do with holiness. It's little wonder then that ministers, on their off hours, would  rather engage in pursuits that have nothing to do with thinking about God.

Enough about ministers though--let's look at truck drivers.  I mean Christians who happen to be truck drivers, of course.  They spend long hours on the road alone.  No one is watching them, except the highway patrol.  No one cares what they do in that chrome sanctuary of theirs.  The driver has miles and miles of uninterrupted quiet time.  He can listen to sermons, pray, or listen to the Bible on cd, all through the day. More than that,  while he is pounding down the miles, loaded up and trucking, he can be putting up the prayers,  meditating and praying,  as much as he wants. He can sing gospel songs at the top of his lungs, and no one hears.  He has huge blocks of time for real, serious prayer. 

When the truck driver stops at a truck stop, he is free to be himself. He can express his true feelings without anyone caring.  No one will gossip behind his back, so he can be bold in sharing his faith. He has to prove nothing.  He is putting up no front. Outside, he can be a fat guy with a T shirt and a cowboy hat, but inside he might be as saintly and scholarly as St. Augustine.  Freed from the pressures that plague so many ministers, he can give himself utterly and completely to the service and worship of God, at least, until he has to stop for fuel.

We ministers have often complained about not having time to really get close to God.   Maybe we should drive trucks instead.  We might not be thought of as holy, but we can actually be holy for a change.  Maybe truckers should try a hand at preaching from time to time.  A job exchange might be good for both. 

Next time you are looking for someone who can really pray and get close to God, maybe you should just look in you rear view mirror. 

Thirty Minutes, Thirty Days

The past week I have been hungering for spiritual revival more than usual.  The situation in our church and the situation in my own life have made me seen that we actually need it and need it badly. 

I don't have to wonder what a revived church looks like. I am seeing it in several churches my wife and I have visited lately. For example in a Presbyterian church we visited,  the pastor is filled with energy as he preaches the Word.  They have gone to two services, and are pulling out extra chairs. There is power in the pulpit and joy in the pew. In a Lutheran church we visit,  people are weeping  in a midweek service.  In an ARP church we visited,  people are sitting still for forty-five minute sermons and coming back for more. An EPC church nearby is outgrowing their facilities and seeking to relocate where they can have more room to reach out to the poor.   God is not asleep, and neither are all His people. 

These churches are all very different in style and even in theology. But the one thing that they all have in common is that the people and the pastors are passionate about what they are going. 

It's not people that we need. It's passion.

A few days ago, I blogged about the Asbury revival, how a group of students and faculty made a covenant to spend thirty minutes each day for thirty days seeking God and practicing the Spiritual disciplines.  Once a day, they covenanted to share God's grace with at least one other person.  Then they came together weekly to pray and discuss what they were learning.  As a result, God came among them.

All this isn't new.  The modeled it after what the Wesleys started at Oxford.  Back then, the results shook England and the world.  What could it do today?

Are there people who would like to join such a thirty day prayer experiment today?

Suppose a group of people, even people who were widely separated in distance, were to make  similar covenant to give God thirty minutes for thirty days, together with a few other stipulations.

• To pray for personal renewal of ourselves, not to focus on the shortcomings ofothers
• To share a common Bible reading for each of those thirty days,  to focus our prayers and purpose together.
• To come together with at least two other people to discuss what we have read, for at least thirty minutes once a week.  Coming together in person would be best, but in the days of electronic communication there are many other possibilities.

• To daily tell someone what God is doing in our lives

• To daily call someone we know and pray for them. 

That's it.  That's all.  The purpose would be self renewal and self-revival. But when God lights a fire, it spreads. 

 The secret of revival, at least it seems to me is not to pray for it, but to pray for ourselves. We pray that God will revive us. Then He will use us to revive others.  We are the key to unleashing God's grace, by releasing the Spirit to do His work within us.  

This is just a proposition.  I do not know the next step. Maybe some of you do.  For now, though, please pray with me, that God will give us guidance.

Pastoring the Pastors Part 2

A friend of mine recently told me about his honeymoon in Switzerland. While he and his wife were walking along a mountain path, he heard a young girl scream. There, on the other side of the railing that lined the path, was a girl, about nine or ten, hanging for her life off the side of the mountain.

My friend,  being a pastor,  first asked himself four questions.

First, did she deserve to be here? Obviously, she had been disobedient to her parents, so she was there of her own accord. We cannot expect someone to come to our rescue every time we disobey.  After all, our actions can have serious consequences.

Second,  was this girl capable of saving herself?  As a rule,  ten year old girls are wiry, energetic and fairly flexible. Chances are if he did nothing she would be all right. She might be worried now, but she would find some way of climbing up.  After all, we should not do for others what they can do for themselves.

Third,  was this be best use of his time?  After all, it was their honeymoon. Switzerland is a largely pagan place these days.  He could see stopping to tell someone about Christ--after all, that would be a matter of their eternal salvation. But just to rescue a girl he did not know who  God may have already predestined to destruction--he was not sure.

Fourth,  would it not be better to pray for her?  He was not sure of his ability to save her, since he himself was not that strong, and leaning over the rail would be dangerous.  Prayer however, is always appropriate, since God can save her, and even if she were destined to die, her eternal safety would be secure.

My friend  asked nothing like any of these of course. He and his wife pulled her to safety.

I mention this to illustrate what we so often do when we come across someone in crisis.  We first want to access blame. Second, we access their abilities according to our judgment, not theirs. Third,  we assume our time is more important than theirs. Fourth, we apply the pious cop-out of generous prayer, rather than putting our prayer into action.

Two days ago, I published a blog about pastoring pastors. It occurred to me later than if I did not follow up on what I wrote, I would be guilty of doing the same thing. 

We can't just say that pastors and their families, especially pastors undergoing difficulty,  need pastoring, we need to actually do it. 

So here are some practical suggestions that I think we should consider.

1. Establish a denominational office that would work like a Human Resources department of a company.  They would be responsible for circulating and maintaining data forms,  educating pastors as to their benefits in retirement and insurance,  helping to counsel pastors through life transitions, and generally be a resource person for the personal needs of pastors and their families.  This person would have no authority, only the responsibility of smoothing the way for pastors and their families to manage the crises of their lives. This person should be knowlegable not only of resources available for pastors, but (in a denomination as small as ours, at least) of the pastors themselves, and how our system works.
2. Encourage every presbytery to have a pastor of pastors. Ideally this would be an older pastor, retired or semi-retired, with the time to go visit each pastor in their church and in their home. They would receive expenses and (if possible) a small stipend for this. They would not have any authority in the church structure to hire or fire, but would be there in the same capacity as a pastor has in a church.
3. Establish a system of mentors and coaches for pastors, similar to what we have for mission developers today.  Coaches would function to show young pastors around the system, and to offer advice and counsel. Mentors would function as spiritual directors,  giving them a confidant and accountability partner. This doesn't have to be a pastor. It should definitely not be a member of his own church, but it should be someone who does not mind asking hard questions such as "how's your prayer life?" or "How are you doing with your wife?" or "What are your  biggest personal struggles?"
4. Have a system of retreat houses for pastors and their families, where they can go for spiritual and personal retreat.  Preferably this could be done on a presbytery level.  I know that Bonclarken often opens up their facilities for this, but I do not think that most pastors know or remember this at a time of crisis. Many times, a pastor may not want to go to a place where he is liable to run into people he knows.  Perhaps people who own time-shares or vacation homes could be persuaded to open up these for a week for a pastor's family in exchange for  tax deduction from the presbytery or synod.
5. Organize small groups across the denomination so pastors can fellowship with other pastors and encourage one another in spiritual disciplines. Having people to meet with weekly face to face is ideal. If this is not possible, modern technology gives us many other options,  phone conferencing, instant messaging, video conferencing, and Skype,  just to name a few.
6. Connect pastors with larger networks for pastors in mutual support.  There are numerous prayer meetings, such as prayer summits which bring pastors and laypersons together across denominational lines. 
7. Have groups of laypersons from a large number of persons who can assist displaced pastors and their families, as well as pastors. If you want to kill an idea, give it to a busy pastor! But if you want a job done right, give it to a layperson who has a passion for it.  Surely there are people around out presbyteries who can come alongside pastors who have lost churches and help them find jobs,  shelter, personal, and financial support.

Anyway, these are a few possibilities that are out there. 

If we want to help the church, help the pastors.  They will do a better job for us, if they know that they are being covered by support, not just in prayer, but in practical living as well.

There are pastors and their wives today who are hanging by their fingers.  We have a responsibility to hear their cries. 

Pastoring the Pastors, Part 1

I once heard John Maxwell tell about his minister father who served as a pastor from the 1920's to the 1950's. After retirement  he made a list of names of his fellow graduates from  seminary in the '20's and what happened to them later.  Out of the twenty men who  started with him, only two retired as pastors.  The majority dropped out of ministry in  the first five years. 

Sad, when you think about it. The ministry is a career with a very high casualty rate being tough on pastors and families alike. There is a reason we call the ministry "spiritual warfare."

Recently, I did something similar to what Maxwell's father had done.  I made a list of twenty names of ministers I have known in my thirty-two years  of ministry, who had served for at least five years, and what has happened to them.   I admit it was not a scientific list.  I just put down the twenty ministers in my church that I had known the best.  But I think it is a fair cross-section.   Here's what has happened to those twenty

--Six of them are currently out of the ministry.  As far as I can remember, none of them left voluntarily. They left because of strife within  their church, their family, or both. 

--Seven of them transferred out of our denomination.  Not one of those six would ever think of returning.   Ever.  In most of those cases family strife, internal strife, or denomination strife caused the change.

--The other eight are still are serving  within the denomination or have already retired.

After looking at the list,  It seems that more people are burned in the ministry than are blessed by it. According to one survey,  seventy percent of pastors reported that the ministry had had a detrimental effect on their families.   The pressures of the ministry are devastating and  long term. 

--Here are some statistics that appeared in Alan Fading's blog

--Eighty percent of seminary graduates do not stay longer than five years.

--Fifteen percent of foreign missionaries return home after a single year due to burnout and depression. Thirty-two percent of planted churches die within four years.

--The ministry is one of the highest professions for clinical depression.

I admit this may be a subjective judgment, but I cannot help but think that our little denomination is particularly unfavorable for ministerial retention and satisfaction. I have met many former ARP pastors, but I have never met one who wanted to come back in.  The main reason they cite for this is a lack of support.  There is a general impression among those who have left that they were abandoned.  I  remember a comment that one former colleague said to me after I had left a church--"What friend got you?"

I take remarks for what they are worth.  It is natural for those who have been hurt to make comments which are really just sour grapes. Many of those I have met,  even while saying the church abandoned them, will name individuals in the church who helped them.  Yet the complaint seems so universal that we must take it seriously.  If only one  of these hurting pastors is right, then that is one too many. 

When a pastor becomes ordained, he is no longer a member of any church, but is now a member of presbytery. Presbytery is now responsible for his spiritual well-being as well as his spiritual discipline.  A pastor's spouse may join a church, as may his children,  yet everyone knows that if the pastor leaves, or is asked to leave, the family goes with him.  The spiritual care of the pastor's family therefore depends upon what presbytery decides to do with the pastor. If the presbytery removes a pastor from his church,  they are also de facto removing his wife and children from the church as well.  At that point, the entire family is left without the spiritual support of a Christian church.   Yet at this time, when the pastor and his family needs help, who stands with him?  There will be an expression of concern from the Minister and His Work committee,  a few calls of assurance from others that they will be there for them if they think of anything to ask, and if they are not too busy.   There will be an offer to have lunch sometime, and lots of people wiling to pray for them, since prayer is cheap and never takes much time, but that's about it. 

Pastoral care of pastors is a hit-or-miss proposition.  If they have close friends in powerful places, they may receive tremendous support. If they do not, they can be all but ignored. 

Let me ask a few more practical questions.  Why do we not have a structure in place to help pastors?  Why do we not have a structure for helping pastors transition into other careers?  Why do we not assign particular churches to look out for displaced pastors and their families?  Why do we not have regular debriefings of pastors who are forced to leave churches, to see how we may help them, and more importantly to see what we can learn from them?  Why do we not have support groups for pastors and their families?  Why do we not have a system of regular pastoral visits of pastors and their families?  Why do we not work with pastors in helping them establish and maintain their spiritual disciplines?  Why do we not have anyone on a presbytery or synod level who is responsible for the pastoral care of pastors?   Why do we continue to solve our pastoral problems by asking the pastor to leave, even when we know it is not the pastor's fault,  when we know that the problem is with the church, but it is easier to replace the pastor than fix the church?

The reason is obvious. Pastors are expendable.  There is always a line of naïve young men lining up to move into even the most difficult situation,  ready to be chewed up and spit out, like their brothers before them.

When I have brought these things up in the past, I have been accused of wanting to have bishops in the church, who would exert power above. That's our problem--we only see the relationship between pastor and presbytery as a power relationship.  Having a person responsible for being supportive and friendly seems beyond our grasp. 

In John 17,  Jesus prays in His high priestly prayer that the Father would make us one with one another as we are one with Him.  In John 13 he tells us that loving one another is the mark of being a disciple.  So--where is the oneness?  Oneness is not something we work to have. It is there already.  We are mutually accountable to each other, whether or not we even know each other.  If one of us is injured we all suffer.

Sometimes, our little denomination reminds me of a partially dead tree.  Here and there we see new, green life, and we rejoice for it. But we also see dead branches, cut off from the rest, rotting and termite riddled,  where the life never touches.  The whole tree suffers because of it.    

It comes down to this--we ministers need to see ourselves as members of each other's families.  When one brother stumbles, other brothers need to help him,  both officially and unofficially.  We do not have to know them well to recognize the organic connection that exists between other members of Christ's Body--in particular members of our own Presbytery. That is the unity we want in our churches. It ought to what we crave between pastors as well. 

Called not to preach

More than forty years ago, I was called to preach.  Now, for the first time, I have been called not to preach. 

I hope it isn't permanent.  I  still want to get back into the pulpit of some church somewhere as soon as possible.  I like preaching--anyone who has done it for long would say the same thing.  I teach preaching now, as well as other pastoral studies but teaching and preaching are not the same thing.  I want to do it. 

However,  the opportunities for me to preach are just not there at the moment.  I have to conclude for now that God has other plans for me. 

I ask God why.  Can't I be useful? Haven't I been effective?  Don't I have something to say?  Have I gotten so old that you can't use me? 

I'm not alone in this thinking.  I have several friends who are temporarily or permanently out of pulpits who ask the same thing. They would fall all over themselves for a chance to stand in front a a congregation, any congregation and proclaim God's word.  In truth, preaching is a kind of addiction--once you fall in love with doing it, you want your weekly fix. 

I'm that way, I know.  But God has not called me to preach now. He has called me not to preach, but to teach my classes through the week and go listen to someone else on Sunday.

Now I'm about two months out of the pulpit,  and I'm beginning to understand a little of what God is doing.

When a preacher has been preaching for a while, a scary things starts to happen to him.  He starts to split in two.  There's a public "me"--Reverend "me"--and plain old ordinary me--mini "me."  Rev "me" is kind, wise and steady,  mini "me" is anxious,  stubborn and unsteady, just like everyone else.  Rev. "me" carries himself tall, straight, and dignified.  Mini "me" slouches on the couch with a coke in his hand,  watching TV, or yells at other drivers in traffic jams, or throw his racket down in disgust when someone beats him at racketball.  Rev. "me" rejoices at the good fortune of his colleagues.  Mini "me" fumes because that pulpit committee didn't even bother to send a return letter for that resume you sent.  Rev. "me" sympathizes with the plight of those less fortunate; mini "me" giggles over the youtube video of that dog running into a wall.  

You get the idea. 

Sometimes God has to slay Rev. "me" to get to mini "me."  The only way I can be real or honest is to take off the robe and the mask, and sit in the pew for a while like every other sinner.

On the whole, I guess I like Rev. "me."  But there's a few things about him that I don't like.  For one thing, Rev. "me" is a profound know-it-all.  He's got an answer for everything.  He knows how to approach God, and how God wants to be approached.  He's got his theology all worked out.  This is easy to do, of course, when he's never out of his own pulpit.  He never sees how other people do things except when he's on vacations, and he never much leaves his comfort zone.  But when Rev. "me" becomes mini "me"  he's in a whole new world. People worship in different ways, have new ideas,  have different burning interests. Some things he expected to be true are true. Other things are not quite as expected.  The world of worship is larger and more varied than we think it is, and we soon find out that there is life outside the narrow confines of our traditions. 

So the past few weeks have been a good learning experience for Joy and I. We haven't yet settled on a place to worship regularly, but we have had some good experiences and met some fine people.  Nevertheless, I pray regularly for God to call me to preach again.

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A Call for Revival

In ten days,  my Presbytery will meet in Columbia, SC.   As we come up on our meeting, the need for special prayer seems more and more imperative. Do we really believe prayer can make a difference, or don't we? 

 What else can we do?  Programs haven't helped.  I get the impression that we are becoming increasingly irrelevant to the society we inhabit. 

I have never  seen a great awakening of the Spirit myself, though I have often prayed for the privilege.  But it did come close once, though.  In 1971 I attended Asbury College in Wilmore, Kentucky. The year before, on  February 4, 1970,  the Spirit of God sent revival to that institution. 

It began at a chapel service at nine in the morning. The Dean felt led to open the pulpit for testimony.  The service ended 184 hours later.  For eight days, twenty-four hours a day,  student after student testified, wept, and rededicated their lives to Christ.  By the end of the week, revival spread from the college to churches and colleges across the country  The revival at Asbury has been credited as a major spiritual influence in the Jesus Movement of the 1970's.

I wasn't there, but I came the next year.  It was real--in fact, it had not really stopped when I arrived on campus a little over a year later.   Here are some of the comments made by people who were there.

“The emphasis was never upon the gifts of the spirit. The emphasis was upon..sin. The need for repentance, need for restitution, the need for repairing relationships, human being to human being and the need for bringing alive into obedience the need for the highest and the best.”

“The amazing thing was a person would tell what had happened, it would be recapitulated, as a person would go somewhere and tell what God had done in his auditorium … it would

take place in the church where the person was telling it!”

“The less impressive the student was the more effective an instrument he was”

Sounds  exciting--yes?

This revival--like all revivals--came as a sovereign move of God.  No one can make revival come.  Only God can bring it. However, this doesn't mean he brings it without us playing a part. Revivals usually comes because Christians seek it--not just casually, but desperately and  deeply. In other words, revivals come in response to our passionate seeking after God. 

This was true of the Asbury Revival.  Robert Coleman in his account of it in One Divine Moment referred to the prayer that was going up before the revival broke.

Before the revival there had been a sense of general spiritual laxity at the college.  Professors had been accused of teaching false doctrine.  Financial scandals had rocked the administration.  More than that,  some among the faculty and student body had felt the only solution to their problems was to get serious with God.

So they reached back into their historical roots , all the way back to the early Methodist tradition.  The Methodists began with  prayer meetings on Oxford campus, where people came together for regular prayer, confession, and the practice of spiritual disciplines.  A small group of people influenced the world  through seeking the Spirit.

A few on the Asbury campus sought to emulate that early Methodist example.  Here are the words from someone who was there:

“How did it come? What called it?…Our need.”

“We had some students interested in prayer. In October before the Spirit came in February six students came together, banded together in what they called ‘the great experiment.’”

“They covenanted for 30 days to take 30 minutes every morning and spend in prayer with the Word, writing down what truth they got from the Word. They were to obey that day, sharing their faith somewhere in the course of the day, and meeting once a week for those 30 days and checking up on each other to see that each one had done his disciplines that week. So for 30 days they met that way and they worked that way.”*

As these students met, a sense of anticipation filled them.  And in time,  God answered them with revival. 

I am not sure that a sudden revival in itself is the best answer to our problems==but then I am not the Holy Spirit. It may be that such an outpouring of the Spirit is exactly what we need.   I am sure, however that the flame of the Spirit must be sought, nurtured, and fanned by the practice of spiritual disciplines and mutual support.  I truly believe that the shallow,  passionless,  listless,  cheap grace which marks most of our attempts at revival will make little difference in the end.  If we do not sense our need, we will not welcome the cure when offered.

It seems to me that the only way we will transform the world is through a faith that has more resolution and passion than the world has for sin.  If the world around us stubbornly persists in godlessness, then we must persevere even more in godliness.  It the world has passion for violence,  sex, and power,  then we must have even more passion for devotion, obedience, and prayer.  That requires the Holy Spirit, and a genuine effort to be seek His face. 

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*Pasted from <http://kimolsen.wordpress.com/2008/06/24/the-asbury-revival-the-great-experiment/>

Derailing the Faith Train

My first effort to share my faith was at a Billy Graham Crusade in 1970.  A lot of my friends volunteered to sing in the choir, but since I had little or no interest in singing, but I wanted to go down to the crusade with them, I volunteered for counselor training which was being held at the same time as choir practice.  I was ushered into a room with several hundred other people and shown how to use a little booklet called  "Steps to peace with God." I have used that little book hundreds of times since. 

This book contains two illustrations that in  evangelical churches have become iconic--the "Cross Bridge" illustration  and the "Faith Train " illustration. 

The "Cross Bridge" illustration goes like this--a person wants to get to God, but sin interferes, open up a chasm between God and people  We try to build bridges to God with our good works--religious practices,  intellectual efforts, or whatever.  None of them work. So God builds a bridge to us--the cross of Jesus.  The cross enables us to reach God though Christ.  It's about the most simple way of explaining the Gospel I know.

The "Faith Train" illustration comes after the bridge illustration,  after a person has received Christ.  It is used to explain how we can know we have been saved.  It  consists of a train with three cars--an engine, a coal car, and a caboose.

• The engine is labeled 'Fact." The fact is that God has accepted us whether  we feel any different or not. 

• The coal car is "Faith."  Faith connects us to the facts and gives us something to hold on to.

• The caboose is "Feeling."  A train will run with or without a caboose. The fact of God's forgiveness coupled with  faith will get us to heaven, whether we feel anything or not.

As I said, I learned the Cross Bridge and the Faith Train illustrations while in my teens. I still think the bridge is for me the best way of explaining  how to receive Christ.  But lately I question the usefulness of the Faith Train.  Here's why.  

Don't get me wrong, I accept the basic premise.  We are saved though faith in the fact of God's grace.  But  feelings are not a caboose that is slapped on the back end of our psyche.  Salvation is more than a cognitive process. It is a life-changing, life rearranging  act of God, both initiated and manifested though actions, emotion, and intellectual assent.  Our whole self is involved in accepting the Gospel, not just our brains. It is an inner transformation, accomplished by God  through  the Spirit working in and through our minds, will, and emotions.  It not just a matter of our heads. It  also involves our hands and hearts. 

What we think certainly affects what we do and feel.  But the opposite is also true--what we feel and do also effects what we think.  Scripture supports this. Wisdom and knowledge begin with the fear of the Lord--an emotion.  God is defined by love--another emotion.  The idea that our devotion to God is brought about by accepting a fact alone does not reflect the truth. 

I do not deny that factual knowledge plays an important part. We must believe that the Cross and the resurrection really happened, and were not some metaphoric myth.  Our commitment to Christ will not last long if we do not believe it is true. The fallacy of liberal Christianity is that it is essentially non-factual Christianity. We cannot base our lives on something we only think may be true.  We do not buy insurance on the basis of a probable promise, or set up our retirement accounts on the basis of probable yields.  What makes us think that people will willingly give their lives for a Savior who may or may not be real?  If the Gospel may not be true, why  lay our lives down for it? 

 Faith in the reality of Christ keeps us going when our faith is shaky and our emotions weak. But emotions and actions keep us going when our faith is weak.  God works though emotion and ritual when our minds are unsure.  The idea that our intellect exists in a vacuum, unaffected by  our feelings is just not right.  Feelings are not a caboose we can live without--they are the blood, bone, and marrow of our spiritual nature.  Without our feelings, we will never possess absolute certainty, because absolute certainty is a feeling.

If we truly believe that faith rests entirely on fact, then why do we spend so much time singing in church?  Why do we quote St. Augustine's statement that we do not understand in order to believe, but believe in order to understand?  Why do we encourage people to evangelize their neighbors by being friendly, if faith rests on facts alone?  Without feelings,  faith is powerless and facts indecipherable.  Without feelings the power to obey is lost.  All our efforts to be good would be as  limp and useless as a sail without a wind.

Along with facts and feelings there is also action.  "Faith without works is dead," said James.  Unless we live out our faith and feelings,  then they dissipate into a mass of good intentions and remorse.  The spiritual disciplines are the reinforcers and concretizers of our faith.  The daily habits of the Christian life put that faith to work, and solidify the thoughts of our mind and the feelings of our hearts.  Faith without prayer,  feelings without worship,  and knowledge without study make no sense, and cannot last for long.  

Christians need emotional passion, intellectual study, and consistent action to keep assured of their salvation.  

A more accurate picture of the train illustration would be this--there are three engines on the front of the train--fact, passion, and action.  These three combine their strength and pull us forward.  When one fails, the other two are still with us.  Together they can get us much farther than any one of them can do alone.