Together In One Place

I've heard of church and community leaders coming together in the wake of a crisis (weather, violent crime) to serve and to pray. And I've heard of pastors coming together in small groups to encourage one another. Crisis or ministry affinity often brings together believers from different backgrounds and church traditions.

But yesterday's Catalyst Forum brought over 350 church and community leaders from Lake County, IL (and beyond) together for a time of spiritual refreshment and relationship-building. No crisis necessary; no other affinity point beyond the beautiful name of Jesus Christ. It was remarkable to see people from their 20's through their 70's, men and women, many ethnic groups, all together under one roof praying, laughing, worshipping, learning, eating and talking. A good number of the churches represented have come together in recent years to do all sorts of service projects in the county; others gather for prayer. But the Catalyst Forum is a unique opportunity for all sorts of Christ-following people to simply gather.

I had a wonderful "ah ha!" moment as I stood near the gym doors yesterday watching the people stream in to grab a slice of Lou Malnati's and some salad. The Lord brought a simple phrase to mind:

"When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them." - Acts: 2:1-4

They were all together in one place.

Christ's followers had been gathering to wait for the promise of the Father, as Jesus had instructed them to do. If you continue reading Acts 2, you'll see the immediate, supernatural, multi-national, multi-ethnic, explosive effect of this baptism. The church grew from 120 to 3000 in a single day.

Their obedience and their longing for Him brought them together in one place, positioning them to receive. They had no context to imagine what this promised baptism might look like, when it would come, or what would happen as a result. But they all kept showing up, these 120 people, waiting and wondering together, until Pentecost (Shavuot), the Jewish celebration of firstfruits, became a whole new event.

They were all together in one place.

This little phrase will change the way I pray for revival in Lake County. This "together in one place" thing is the first step that positions us to receive what only God can give. "Together in one place" is can be a physical act that demonstrates our individual humility and hunger for Him.

May this deeper reality saturate these "together in one place" gatherings in this county.

Mirror, mirror

‘I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else. For I don’t cheat, I don’t sin, and I don’t commit adultery. I’m certainly not like that tax collector! I fast twice a week, and I give you a tenth of my income.’ - Matthew 18:11-12 NLT

It is oh, so obvious that the religious expert who prayed that prayer is miles off from understanding himself rightly, isn't it? I revel in Jesus' contrast of this man's prayer with the prayer of the tax collector.

It occurred to me today that this self-classification I'm tempted to do when I read this story puts me in grave risk of the Pharisee's error. "I am broken, like the second guy," I tell myself in a somber voice befitting my sense of deep humility. "I'm not like that self-righteous Pharisee".

Um...really?

And just how do I assess this? Well, I am tempted to run a sort of nutty quiz in my head, like this:

(Check one)
Do I pray like that Pharisee? Yes ___ No___

Do I dress like that Pharisee? Yes___ No___

Do I perform like that Pharisee? Yes___ No___

(Fill in the blank) Who do I know who is like that Pharisee? ________

(Essay question) Why am I a better, truer and more faithful Christian than this person? __________

And that unvoiced, arrogant self-assessment completely erases my awareness of my own brokenness, and renders meaningless the rending of my garments as I sorrow over my sinfulness.

"I thank God that I'm not narrow-minded like ____"
"I thank God that I'm not open-minded like ____"
"I thank God that I don't do _____ behavior"
"I thank God that I do _______ behavior"

Ugh. This parable today was a magnifying mirror. I engage in these sorts of comparisons, all the while convincing myself that I am not a Pharisee when I do.

God have mercy on me, a sinner.

Come to the table (Part 2)

Read part one here.

True fiction for church leaders
Part 2:

The board put the PR machine in high gear – the machine Jeff had painstakingly assembled in the name of Excellent Communication – to massage the message they’d be giving the congregation about Jeff’s impending departure. Frank made sure Jeff understood that his generous severance package was tied to Jeff’s flawless performance of the leaving rituals they’d choreographed for him to execute.

“We’d prefer to tell the congregation that you and Joanna believe God is calling you both at this time in your lives to step out in faith and explore some new ministry opportunities,” Frank said.

Instead of what, Jeff wondered. The truth? That he’d been forced out?

“You’ve gone a lot recently, traveling and speaking at other churches, anyway,” Frank continued. “We want to minimize any disruption to the church life here. If you think you can handle it, we’ll call you up front so you can make a brief announcement at the end of each service this weekend. We’ll want to see the text of what you’re going to say before then. You understand.”

Jeff already knew the answer, but had to hear Frank say it. “Who’s going to preach this Sunday?”

He saw a muscle twitch in Frank’s jaw. “Chris, of course. The board is praying he’ll accept the call to become our next senior pastor.”

Oh, he’ll accept it, Jeff thought. It’s what that Judas has been working toward since I brought him here as my associate 4 years ago.

* * * * * * *

“How could they do this to me?”

Joanna was standing at the doorway of the kitchen. He hadn’t heard her come in, but she’d obviously heard his voice. “Jeff?”

He turned to face her.

“I’ve felt the same way for a long time,” she said slowly, taking a couple of steps into the room. “Years, maybe. I hated the way things were the last few years when it seemed like everyone was turning against you. Against us. I am glad our kids are gone, living on their own out of this town. Going through this would have been unbearable for them.”
He nodded. He’d had the same thought hundreds of times.

“How was your morning?” he asked.

She shrugged off her coat, tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair. Joanna had been attending a church in a town about 45 minutes from their home the last couple of months, hoping the ritual would help her heal in relative anonymity. He’d tried visiting with her, but after their second visit, he told her it was excruciating for him to sit like an uncooked pot roast in the pew, watching the show.

All he could think about were the endless meetings he and his staffers had to “produce a quality Sunday morning experience” for the people filling the padded chairs in his own…former…church each weekend. He, of course, was the main course, tasked with crafting a clever and relevant message the people would talk about with their co-workers on Monday mornings – evangelizing them with the gospel of “come to our church”. Jeff now wondered if maybe all he and the staff had been doing was repackaging little bits of the Bible into 100-calorie snack packets. “You can go if you want,” he’d told Joanna. “I need some time. Can’t handle it right now.”

He hadn’t noticed until she sat down heavily at the kitchen table that Joanna’s face was blotched and swollen and her eyes were red. “Fine. Not fine,” she said. “You know what, Jeff? You ask how they could do this to you? These last few months, I’d been asking God why he let them get away with it. I wondered why they seemed to thrive after they betrayed us the way they did,” she said.

“You used the past tense, JoJo. ‘Been asking.’ Like it’s over.”

“A lot of bad stuff has happened to us, Jeff. But I’m beginning to think we’re not just victims in this.”

He straddled the chair across the table from her. “How can you say that? After the way they screwed us…”

“I’ve been listening to people interact before and after the church service these last few weeks. No one really knows me, and it’s a great big church. I just listen…” She swallowed hard. “I hear too many of their conversations focused on the same things we’ve been consumed with the last few years. The building, the staff, the programs. I hear constant striving for position, and endless silly politics. Such a waste…”

Hackles raised, Jeff leaned across the table. “What are you saying? That none of anything we’ve done had any value? That we’ve wasted our time in ministry?”

Her voice broke. “I wanted to yell at them: All of you people want the same things we wanted at…at…” She paused, reaching for the right word. “From…our old church. They all want the same things we wanted. Frank, Chris, the rest of them... I think we’ve wasted a lot of energy trying to get something from other people that didn’t belong to any of us in the first place.” She nestled her face into her folded arms on the table and wept quietly.

The truth in her words flicked lightly across his pain like a whip, goading him…where? Jeff wanted to scream “You’re wrong! They did this to us!” but tried…and failed…to form a less-visceral response. The protest inside of him slowly dissipated until finally, his soul fell silent as he sat at the kitchen table with her, the only sound, the steady ticking of the kitchen clock.

Come to the table

If you've ever been involved in church leadership, the following work of fiction might read like a true story...

(Part 1)

Jeff was parked in his ancient recliner, wearing a shapeless pair of gray sweats and an “In It To Win It” T-Shirt. Sections of the morning’s super-size paper surrounded his chair, forming a moat of newsprint. Jeff stared at the tube as the Sunday morning talking heads debate the president’s latest economic stimulus package, each insisting they just wanted to help the American people.

At the commercial break, Jeff hit the remote. He loathed the suffocating silence in the house, but couldn’t listen to one more syllable of political grandstanding this morning. The true addiction of those rarin’-to-go pols and wonks on camera, and their sycophants pimping off-camera? A thousand meetings, alliances and brokered deals in order to score the addictive emotional cocaine of power.

“They call what they do ‘helping people’, but if any of that happens, it’s only after they’ve gotten their ego fix,” Jeff mumbled out loud. He walked into the kitchen, dumping the remains of his lukewarm coffee into the sink and fishing the last blueberry Pop-Tart out of an almost-empty box. He ate it cold while continuing impassioned sermon to his canine congregation of one.

“Man, they all use each other. They use people and spit them out when they’ve outlived their usefulness or have the misfortune of choosing the wrong allies.”

Like he had.

He tossed the dog the last bit of his untoasted toaster pastry, and the same weary incomplete thoughts crawled around the rutted track the betrayal had made around the perimeter of his mind.

He mumbled the only prayer he’d been able to say in weeks: “How could they do this to me?”

* * * * * * *

Frank’s emotionless visage told Jeff everything he needed to know when he walked into that conference room eight months ago. Frank was going to keep this cordial and businesslike, just as Jeff had always coached him to be through the years two had tackled management issues in their organization.

“You probably have some idea what this meeting is about,” Frank said.

Jeff nodded. After weeks of sensing he was about to get axed, and months before that of losing one workplace political battle after another – this, after years where everything he touched turned to gold – Jeff had steeled himself for the inevitable.

Almost robotically, Frank began his carefully-rehearsed speech, acknowledging Jeff’s years of faithful service, and how Jeff had been instrumental in building the amazing organization around them, and how difficult the decision had been, and just how sorry the entire board was to see things end this way.

“We want to make sure you’re taken care of,” Frank said, pushing a stack of papers toward him from across the conference room table. “We put together a generous package that will give you and Joanna time to figure out what’s next for the two of you. We’re grateful for your years of service to us.”

As Frank wrapped up his speech, Jeff noticed the muffled soundtrack of office activity humming in the background. He could hear the sound of the copier running. Two phones ringing. Though it was after 4 PM, the outer offices were still half-full of employees laughing, talking, finishing up their work day. Jeff had been involved in hiring each one.

And now, he was being dumped like a bad blind date. Frank had just fired him from the church he and Joanna had started in their living room 14 years earlier.

(to be continued...)

Story reprise

Slices of StoryChicago:

1. "Weakness brings liberation. Confession transforms" - Dave Gibbons
2. "Propositions will not save you." - Chris Seay
3. Note to self: Get that Frederick Buechner book already (Telling The Truth: Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale) since it keeps coming up in conversation.
4. "We censor our stories when we only talk about our success." - Mike Foster
5. A drumline is a great way to announce the beginning of a session.
6. "'Be the person God designed you to be'. I don't know what that means!" - Donald Miller
7. Musicians, story characters, communications people in a sea of macs and iphones.
8. Won a copy of Skye Jethani's Divine Commodity - and missed picking it up from under some seat at the Paramount Theater, the site of day 1 of the event because I couldn't access twitter that day. More on twitter for day two.
9. "Instructional method of preaching is a failure. It does not challenge people's perceptions of reality." - The Guy Who Wrote The Book I Won And Didn't Pick Up.
10. "The cross tells the story creation never could." - Thomas Fluharty
11. "Being convincing is salesmanship. Being compelling means people are drawn to you." - Kevin Sterner
12. "How did you get here from there?" Me, to Ron Martoia, after hearing him talk today and realizing he attended Trinity in the mid-90's.
13. My twitter account got hacked midway through day 2 of the conference. Spam Me sent my 261 followers some garbage link. I nearly cried when I saw what had happened.
14. "We dwell in the truth. We don't try to get it in deadlock." - Ben Arment
15. I would have welcomed a few more opportunities experience others' stories (short video vignettes of slice-of-life stories, artwork, a wall with graffittied praises, stories from other cultures?) as part of the mix.
16. It was a typical evangelical conference. And it wasn't anything like a typical conference. Mostly the latter! Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to be there. Help me to use what I've learned, seen, felt to encourage others and honor You.
17. Grateful, grateful, grateful.

The fact that I could list so many quotes from the event (above) should tell you how much I enjoyed the event. I rarely take notes anywhere I go, but I took notes for two whole days. I didn't even take two whole days of notes during two years of full-time college.

Listen to the Quiet - and contest info!

Listen to the Quiet

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I love the sound of a house full of kids. (Well, most of the time, anyway!) As my children neared adulthood, I wondered how I'd handle the echoing silence of an empty nest.

Perhaps "wondered" is too mild a word. I feared the silence. I was mourning the end of my active parenting years, to be sure, but the truth was that my dread was deeply rooted in some painful early experiences with loneliness. That loneliness resulted in unwelcome, unwanted silence. I honesty didn't believe there could be any other kind of silence.

During this time, I had the opportunity to go on my first guided, mostly-silent retreat. I was simultaneously introduced to the delight of extended meditation on a single passage of Scripture. As I embraced the spiritual discipline of solitude, God brought me face-to-face with some of the familiar old hurts that had previously motivated me to avoid silence at all costs. I discovered that silence does not equal loneliness. It can be rich with God's presence.

The psalmist sang these familiar words from the heart of God to each of us used to tuning our lives to the cacophony around us: "Be still, and know that I am God!" (Ps. 46:10) To paraphrase His imperative invitation: "Shhh...come, listen to the quiet so you can more fully experience and respond to who He is."

Over the last few weeks, several people in my life have remarked that they'd welcome an opportunity to participate in a "mostly silent" retreat. As a result, I'd like to know if there are others living in the Chicago-Milwaukee area interested in gathering for a "Listen to the Quiet" 24-hour retreat either February 26-27 or March 5-6, 2010. Location (probably at a retreat space somewhere in S.E. Wisconsin) is yet to be determined. Cost including 3 meals, will likely run in the $60-70 range. A "mostly silent" retreat means there will be time at the beginning and end for prayer, worship and fellowship, but that the core of your time will be spent in silence shaped by a bit of devotional instruction on how to enter into your time of quiet with the Lord.

If you're interested in participating in the "Listen to the Quiet" retreat - or simply knowing more as plans are finalized - please e-mail me (mishvl@yahoo.com) no later than Saturday, November 14.

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Your opportunity to win!

This fall, two different projects to which I contributed have released. The first is a gift devotional for women entitled Quiet Reflections of Hope (Baker/Revell). This simple, thoughtful volume offers busy women a bit of focused time with the Lord each morning. The second is the beautiful Holy Bible: Mosaic (Tyndale). This gorgeous Bible offers writings and artwork from believers from every century and continent. You can read more about this Bible here.

I'd like to send one reader two copies of Quiet Reflections of Hope, and one reader two copies of Holy Bible: Mosaic. Each winner will have one volume to keep and one to share with a friend. (Or, if you're feeling especially generous, two copies to give away!) Simply e-mail me at mishvl@yahoo.com before Saturday, November 14 with the subject line "Drawing". Please include your mailing address in your e-mail.

Review: Can God Be Trusted?

With a title like Can God Be Trusted? (FaithWords/Hachette), I imagined the content of Father Thomas Williams' book could be summed up in four words: Yes. So do it. The plain white cover of the hardcover volume didn't do much to convince me that the book was going to be anything more than a restatement of those four words for 206 long pages.

My first impressions were wrong. Williams, a professor of theology at Regina Apostolorum Pontifical University in Rome and a Vatican analyst for CBS News, offers a gentle, accessible and thorough exploration of the nature of trust in this volume. Penned for a popular audience, Williams tackles topics including the downside of distrust, God's rivals for our trust, what to do when God lets you down, and God's trust in us. Williams explains, "...we are not called to diminish our desires, but to enlarge them. In the end, we need to be more audacious with God, not less. We need to think big, bigger than we ever have before. Strange as it may seem, we always expect too little of God, and never too much."

I struggle to trust God and other people. My once-childlike trust in God has been enclosed in thick layers of callouses in order to protect myself from further hurt. Williams' kind, encouraging pastoral voice and an approach that was both intelligent and simple had a healing effect on me as I read. Can God Be Trusted? is a very worthwhile read for anyone who is weary of the weight of their own callouses. Recommended.

(Note: This review copy was provided me by the publisher.)