My sister just sent me these after a conversation a while back about a t-shirt I'd create. I'm sure it already exists but it would read: "I see stupid people." 'Cause I do. They're everywhere. Then I decided that that likely wouldn't be very flattering or edifying. Maybe I need to come up with something better.
What’s the biggest threat to Christianity today? Is it postmodernism? Relativism? Skye Jethani, managing editor for Leadership, says no, it’s consumerism. In a post on the Out of Ur blog titled, “The Cult of Mac,” Jethani discusses the unique effects that consumerism has had on the church and how branding Christ has created a consumer-driven Christian community. He asks, “If brands have become religions, is the opposite also true? Have religions been reduced to brands?”
What are your thoughts? Is consumerism the biggest threat to the church today?
Eastern Conference
(1) Boston v. (6) Carolina
Western Conference
(2) Detroit v. (8) Anaheim
(3) Vancouver v. (4) Chicago
Well, over a month ago I came home from 10 days in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and promised not one but three posts!! So far I've posted exactly none of them. The ironic part is that the first that I wanted to write was on vacation and rest while it has been sheer busyness and exhaustion that has kept me from it.Whose kingdom are we building?
The answer to this question might be stranger than you think.
I can’t explain why, but I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about information guides (that means church bulletin for those of you using the KJV). For most churches, these guides are used to announce the detailed information of the “where and when” of every ministry event that the church has to offer. Typically at some point during a worship gathering, someone might even get up on a stage and point out a few of those things found in the information guide to help people know what’s going on.
What would happen if everyone in church actually did everything in the information guide?
Consider the question this way: What if everything you asked people to come to and sign up for was actually filled? Would your church be successful? I’ve realized that with the amount of activities and events that we as church leaders continue to try and offer people, we are guilty of over-scheduling the involvement of our church communities. What has started to bother me about this is that we have become a kind of employment service for our church. Though many of the opportunities we invite our people to participate in are out in the community, we are still serving as the conduit and filter. Because of this, we are causing our people to wait for us as a church to create things for them to do rather than develop the muscle on their own to recognize needs and issues within their own neighborhood and respond. And if they did respond to something that was happening around them, would a church guilt them for not participating in the events featured in the information guide?
This has led me to consider what it would look like to offer fewer opportunities for volunteering and serving through our church (employment) for the purpose of developing our people to pay attention to what is happening around them and respond (deployment).
The idea of developing our church body to be deployed into our city is not a new idea. For years we have preached this message. We have communicated to our people what they need to do to change. What I’m suggesting is that maybe they aren’t the only ones who need to change. Maybe the church needs to change. Maybe we need to back off on the amount of activities we’re generating and become more aggressive at working alongside of our people about how to engage their gifts and talents to be deployed in the work environment, neighborhood and relationships. Ultimately, we can’t ask our people to slow down while at the same time picking up the pace and trying to get more people to sign up for more things. Choosing a church philosophy of deployment over employment might serve as a strong reminder for us about whose kingdom we’re actually building.
One of the things that I think has kept most churches from driving down this road is that the fruit of this kind of ministry isn’t measurable. Might we need to consider that just because you can’t measure something doesn’t mean that it isn’t fruitful. It just means that it might not fit on an Excel spreadsheet.
Thoughts?
So here's my picks for round 1 (she says very tentatively. not feeling so bold)...
Eastern Conference
(1) Boston v. (8) Montreal
(3) New Jersey v. (6) Carolina
(4) Pittsburgh v. (5) Philadelphia
Western Conference
(1) San Jose v. (8) Anaheim
(2) Detroit v. (7) Columbus
(3) Vancouver v. (6) St. Louis
(4) Chicago v. (5) CalgarySomewhere between searching for the perfect souvenir and savoring a bowl of gelato, I found myself at the bottom of the Holy Stairs in Rome. I was on vacation, taking in the impossibly blue sky, the salty rhythms of the streets, history under every footstep and culture around every corner. The Holy Stairs, or Scala Santa, is a marble staircase transplanted from Jerusalem. Tradition has it that Jesus walked up these very stairs on His way to meet with Pontius Pilate.
The only way up the stairs is on your knees. So, slowly, I began the journey like all the other pilgrims. It was awkward at first and only became increasingly uncomfortable. As I tried to concentrate on prayer, I realized I hadn’t been on my knees in a long time. My knees were out of shape. Prayer, whether on my knees or otherwise, had not been a priority. I had managed to fit God neatly into my itinerary, but God wasn’t much more than a convenient stop on the tour.
This experience reflected the sad state of my spiritual life. I had been a Christian for most of what I could remember. But I spent more time fixing my hair than reading the Bible. My faith was flabby. I was in need of some serious spiritual discipline.
Discipline sounds like a dirty word in our “eat what you want and still lose weight” society. We want results without the work. But we have to rethink the results and the work. Jesus tells us in Matthew that the big picture is about loving God with our whole being and sharing that love with others. Spiritual disciplines help us focus on the big picture and translate it onto the small screen of our daily lives.
Even though “how to” spirituality books put a fresh face on faith practices, spiritual disciplines are nothing new. The Old Testament shows us how prayer, meditation, scriptural study and worship provide a functional framework for faithful living. And Jesus led His followers by example, opting for late-night prayer vigils instead of watching the Late Show. Washing feet instead of calling for room service. Daily living out what He taught in humble service and simplicity. Even Paul, of “doing what I don’t want to do and not doing what I do want to do” fame, was still training for a marathon.
But what do spiritual disciplines look like today in the frenzied 21st century? Kelli B. Trujillo, author of The Busy Mom’s Guide to Spiritual Survival (Wesleyan), went in search of answers. But what she found was not a “quick-fix 12-step program to a better, more disciplined you.” Instead, while exploring 15 disciplines—including silence, solitude, stewardship, worship, fellowship and hospitality—she discovered a new perspective on traditional practices and creative ways to incorporate them throughout her hectic day. Conditions we often think are not conducive to faith became places for God to break in. Nothing was off-limits.
But the point is not to become a spiritual superwoman. “Spiritual disciplines help me get out of that mode of trying hard and into a more authentic, honest place spiritually, a place that recognizes I can’t be like Jesus through my own efforts,” Trujillo says. “Through spiritual disciplines the Holy Spirit is at work in my life, strengthening me and changing me and molding me.”
Practice may not make perfect, but that doesn’t mean we give up. Even after years in the spotlight as an author, teacher and speaker, Joyce Meyer gives her audiences the same challenge she directs at herself. She shared with Radiant the importance of spiritual disciplines. “I’ve gone through times in my life where I kept trying to fit God in and fit God in and fit in prayer and fit in studying, and I never got room for that stuff. You need to stop trying to work God into your schedule, and you need to put Him first and let your schedule honor God.”
Over time she found that disciplines like morning prayer became a healthy habit and an essential part of her day. “Whatever you do for a period of time, that’s what you begin to crave and desire,” she says. “And for me, now, to go out without spending time with God is almost like going out without being dressed … I feel like I’m missing something.”
Some practices might not be as foreign to our routines as we think. Meditation seemed a little out there to me until I realized I was already doing it regularly. I was meditating on my flaws, my feelings and my schedule. Brooding and worrying. My mind was full of selfishness, pride and fluff. The petition in Psalm 19 that the meditation of my heart be pleasing to God challenges me to replace the old “me, myself and I” mantra with something more meaningful.
Spiritual disciplines lead us to look outside ourselves. When we do, we can embrace a wider view of giving, one that’s not just about how much you put in the offering plate on Sunday morning. Meyer talks about transforming our ideas of giving into becoming an “aggressive giver.” “Giving, to me, is a completely different thing than being a giver,” she says. “When you are a giver, then you actually look for opportunities.”
As a leader of her church’s women’s group, Christina Bender, 28, finds opportunities to serve all around her. Simple acts like regularly giving blood, growing out her hair for Locks of Love, picking up trash and baby-sitting take on new significance when love is at the center of service. “I have learned to really dig deep into the love of God, to smile and offer care and assistance at times that are really not ideal, to people who are maybe unlovely to others or even unpleasant,” she says.
While working for a nonprofit social justice organization, Rebekah Sloane, 31, found service a natural expression of her faith. But she felt God challenging her to take on disciplines, which have not come so easily. “I’m working on incorporating more meditation and prayer into my daily life … those disciplines have always been difficult for me, but over the past few years I’ve found myself increasingly longing for a deeper, fuller spiritual life and feel that meditation and prayer may be part of drawing me deeper.” For Sloane, growth meant revisiting childhood disciplines that didn’t “resonate” with her as an adult.
I have to confess, sometimes prayer seems about as appealing as finishing all my peas. But it doesn’t always have to be served up the same way. We can enjoy some creative freedom with our faith practices. After reading Trujillo’s book, I decided to try out “breath prayer,” an ancient Christian practice Trujillo describes as “praying a short memorized prayer by silently saying one phrase as you breathe in, then praying the next phrase as you breathe out.” She suggests using Bible verses. It’s a way of making Scripture part of my daily vocabulary.
Spiritual disciplines bring me back to basics. Who I am. Who my neighbor is. Who God is. Reminding me that God is present even when my days are disheveled. The late British Christian writer Evelyn Underhill says in her book The Spiritual Life (Ariel Press), “We mostly spend our lives conjugating three verbs: to Want, to Have and to Do. We are kept in perpetual unrest: forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in the fundamental verb, to Be: and that Being, not wanting, having and doing, is the essence of a spiritual life.”
When I finally arrive at the top of the stairs, I have not arrived at spiritual enlightenment. I am the same. The same sloth Christ went to the cross to save. Looking down I see my fellow knee-weary travelers. The skeptic in me wants to see all this as some empty historical exercise. But God is here. Calling. Closer than my breath. Closer even than the bruises on my knees.
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As I read this article, I found myself resonating with much! These disciplines are things that I want to dive into more, just like my desire to discipline my physical body more...also coming, thank you. It's hard work but it's rewarding work. I love that it's not about "doing" more things or "finding more time" but about inviting God into what I'm already doing. I've got a lot of learning left to do!
By Keri Kent
The stakes in children's ministry, if you think of it, are high. We are responsible for the next generation of God's faithful. Based partly on our input, these young charges will follow Christ—or not. There are so many temptations vying for our children's attention and allegiance. This is serious business.
Consequently, we too can be tempted—to the sin of taking ourselves far too seriously. While our calling to minister to children is important and significant, it is also provides us an opportunity to engage in the spiritual practice of play.
Would anyone you work or minister with describe you with words like "playful," or "child-like" or "fun"? How about your family?
Once, Jesus' disciples—who were beginning to realize that God's kingdom was not like earthly kingdoms—asked him to clarify: who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? In other words, how do you move ahead? By way of reply, Jesus "called a little child, whom he placed among them. And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes a humble place—becoming like this child—is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18: 2-4).
Children are playful. What does it mean to play, to be childlike (which is a bit different from being childish)? What did Jesus mean when he said that the greatest in his kingdom were those who chose to be like little children? Did he want us to be playful? Does that mean we all ought to play more dodgeball? Or was he talking only about humility?
"There is no mistaking that one must learn to resemble a child in order to enter the kingdom," writes Brennan Manning in his book The Importance of Being Foolish. "But to grasp the full force of the phrase 'like little children,' we must realize that the Jewish attitude toward children in the time of Christ differed drastically from the one prevalent today. We have a tendency to idealize childhood, to see it as the happy age of innocence, insouciance, and simple faith. In the Jewish community of New Testament times, the child was considered of no importance, meriting no attention or favor. The child was regarded with scorn."
Manning notes that a humble attitude allows us to see God's grace for what it is: pure gift. But how do we cultivate humility? It's not easy in our culture, which lauds individual opinions and accomplishments, which teaches that self-esteem and self-confidence are of the highest value. It's not easy when you are supposed to be a "spiritual leader"—which some folks (sometimes even those leaders) think that means you have to be "deep" or serious all the time. But what if playfulness is a path to humility?
While we may have a different perspective on childhood than Jesus' contemporaries did, he continues to call us to trust him. And to realize we're not "all that." Leadership often tempts us to believe too firmly in our own importance. Play stretches our ability to be a fool, to engage in that which has no purpose other than simple joy. Play forces us to loosen our grip on our ambition for a while; it trains us in humility. We often want to avoid the risk involved with being silly. It's odd, since Jesus said we ought to be humble, that we seem to find it difficult to let go of our self-importance and image management—especially if we are leaders.
The pressures of ministry—counseling, teaching, caring for people—can be overwhelming. We forget how to play, or think it a waste of time. We worry what people would think. But play is necessary to restore our souls from the damage of our accomplishment-driven, workaholic culture. Play is a spiritual practice.
Kids "play" soccer, baseball, lacrosse, or whatever else their parents sign them up for, but these sports seem to have become a business, which costs money. Some children play video games, which do more damage than good, and certainly offer none of the health benefits of tag.
Many kids and parents use the word do rather than play. "Billy does football in the fall and hockey in the winter," we'll say. We don't say our kids are going to play a game; we say they "have" a game. Rather than playing, our kids have obligations. Though we may use such language unconsciously, our word choices are stunningly accurate.
Do you know how to play? Often adults engage in sports, but it is with a sense of competitive intensity. Or, perhaps you are in a sports league, but you have to justify it as "relational evangelism." You're not just playing, you're building bridges to share the gospel. But what if "just playing" is what God invites us to do as part of our spiritual practice?
Many adults who exercise see it as drudgery. Or it becomes an obsession, a god they compulsively sacrifice large amounts of time and energy to. They don't play, they work out (again, an interesting word choice). They exercise in an attempt to look younger, to stave off the inevitable aging process. Or it becomes a stimulant, another addiction. Rather than just enjoying a game of catch with the kids or a walk through the woods, we feel the need to engage in extreme sports.
True playfulness, on the other hand, brings joy; it teaches us trust. We can believe God is able to keep the universe humming right along without our help. Play is truly an act of trust, and trust is a key part of childlikeness.
Do you ever feel as if the joy has been squeezed right out of you? Do you think that the kingdom of God will fall apart if you don't keep working very hard? In many ways, church culture mirrors the world's culture: accomplishment-driven, workaholic, stressed. Such an environment gets a lot of tasks done, but destroys souls. What would happen to our ministry if we valued "being with God" as much as we did "doing for God"? And what if that "being with God" included not just times of soulful reflection but also, childlike playfulness?
Perhaps you think you don't have time to play. Could you play one day a week—on the Sabbath, when your focus is on loving God and loving others? Sabbath is a spiritual practice, of which play is a quintessential part. In play, we shed the shackles of schedules, efficiency, even purpose. The playfulness of Sabbath is the key to its ability to restore our souls.
Keri Wyatt Kent is a speaker, freelance writer and author of six books, including Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity, (Zondervan 2009) from which this article is adapted.
Normally when I'm absent (not absent minded, just absent) from the blog world for a while it's because the speed of life (similar to the speed of light but different) has started spinning recklessly out of control and is tossing me around like a rag doll. I'll be honest that my most recent absence started there but was furthered by a much more delightful turn of events. I got home this morning at 2 am after spending the last 9 days on vacation with my family in Mexico.“My life is crazy busy right now,” a friend recently emailed me. Aren’t we all? I thought. Many Americans these days live hectic and frantic lives. We tell ourselves things like, Run. Push harder. Don’t be a loser. We no longer know how to give ourselves the permission to rest or do something for ourselves. In our drive for perfection, we’re working what feels like 24/7 to bring our own lives under absolute control; employment, paying bills, grocery shopping, laundry, 300 emails, home repairs, church, volunteering, a friend in need, in-laws to satisfy, a baby who won’t sleep through the night … Am I describing your world yet? If not, I will be, in the blink of an eye. A child becomes a teenager. The teenager becomes an adult. And the adult has no time for herself. But it wasn’t always this way.
One of the things I treasured about working with students as a university chaplain on three different continents was their capacity to disengage from the real world to do something meaningful for themselves. When I’d visit students in their dorm rooms or college apartments, they’d often have their stash of watercolors, sketching pencils or journals strewn about their living space. It didn’t mean they were taking an art class.
These folks intuitively knew how to unwind and get in touch with life on a different plane. They collected music and literature, spending an entire weekend polishing off a novel or mixing CDs. They took tons of photographs and created digital movies. They baked and experimented with recipes. They made time for museums, film festivals, dance recitals or friends’ theatrical plays. They ordered pizza at midnight, then got up early to see the sunrise before falling back into bed again. Yes, they had responsibilities, term papers and part-time jobs, but they also knew how to put themselves first.
Where is that girl inside of me? I know she’s in there somewhere. I want to find her again, and I hope it’s not too late. I don’t want to be in the middle of a midlife crisis before I give myself the freedom to enjoy life and make time for myself again. I’m not talking about “doing nice things” for myself, like splurging on a new handbag or buying a new stereo system, but about carving out time for myself. Solitude.
For me, solitude is that time when I can close the door and hear my thoughts and the thoughts of God without being distracted. It’s disengaging from the world and letting my mind drift to the magical land of possibilities, the life I truly want to live. I could be reading or taking a walk or soaking in a bathtub, but I am alone, and I feel the love and power of God envelop me. I dream about possibilities and hear God whisper ideas I’ve never considered before. I hear His corrections, His plea to slow down and love the people around me better. The sensation infuses me with life, hope and a sense of expectancy—like a schoolgirl in love. When was the last time you experienced it? I know, you can’t remember.
Why Are We So Tough on Ourselves?
Parents, teachers, coaches and employers may be the culprit. Quiet moments were rarely valued or modeled in our homes or among our peers. Few of us saw our families or friends live out their private lives in a way that communicated it was OK to make time for ourselves, to practice the spiritual discipline of solitude. They want us to buy into the baby-boomer lie that more is better. They want us to be independent and competent, to be financially secure and control our own destinies.
Growing up no one taught us how to grow a garden, how to kick back on the weekends with a warm blanket and good book or play board games as a family by the fire. We were always in the car, going to some event, doing some activity or sitting in front of the television. We heard the emphatic message that “you can do anything”—and that meant doing, not being. So we became demanding and failed to learn one of the greatest lessons in life—that sometimes, doing nothing is the most powerful experience of all.
In order to achieve the level of perfection we believed we had to attain, we needed to be productive. Club sports, youth group, piano lessons, Girl Scouts, homework, volunteering, employment—you name it, we’ve done it. As Judith Warner describes in Perfect Madness (Riverhead Trade), “There can be no distracting personal or avocation detours—[we] must be unrelenting in the pursuit of goals. No one can do anything if it doesn’t involve doing everything and doing it all at an incredibly high level of performance.”
I don’t want to be the kind of person who walks around with a “save the world or else” complex like some of my peers do these days. Instead, I want to be more like those who can embrace their inner child. They naturally turn on the football game, break out a deck of cards or play chess after dinner while the rest of us start loading the dishwasher. Maybe they’re just Type B people and I’m Type A. Possibly, but I think it’s more complicated than that. More often than not, I don’t give myself permission to read a magazine or take a walk because I feel the need to always fix things and don’t give others in my life a chance to help out.
I need to stop wanting my life to look perfect and in control to those around me. Because when I do, I beat myself up for missing the mark of perfection, and I’m left feeling too tired to address my greatest needs. Too tired to read. Too tired to soak in the tub. Too tired to play with my preschooler. Too tired to love my husband. Too tired to write. Too tired to pray. Something has to change.
A couple of times each year my husband finds sanctuary at a local spiritual retreat center. He fasts, plays his guitar, takes a walk, and talks to God. He comes away from that time renewed and believing that he’s heard from God. Sometimes it’s a simple message such as “Love people more,” and other times it’s more dramatic and may require a job change or relocation. He does this because it brings both God and him much joy to commune intimately, without the distractions of the world. Though I don’t like being left at home alone with our young children, I relish my husband’s arrival after a spiritual retreat. He’s glowing, mellow, attentive, and more gentle. He’s the man I married again.
We’ve been married for over a decade, and I have yet to enjoy a personal retreat. Sure, I’ve been on spiritual retreats—but with 50 other women. I have a good time, but I wouldn’t use the word “refreshed” to describe how I feel when I return to home to three wide-eyed children. Frankly, I am wiped out from so much interaction with so many people and so much information. I have just spent forty-eight hours with nearly just as many women … how can that be refreshing? What I need are some serious moments of solitude.
Learning to Let Go
The letters originally penned by Francois de Salignac de La Mothe Fénelon, the Archbishop of Cambri, France, during the 17th century call us to let go of our selfishness and insecurity, which drive us to strive incessantly. Fénelon was the spiritual adviser for a small community of believers in the Court of Louis XIV, who sought to live a life of true spirituality amidst a society that was decadently immoral.
Fénelon wrote to his pupils, “Learn to cultivate peace. And you can do this by learning to turn a deaf ear to your own ambitious thoughts. Or haven’t you learned yet that the strivings of the human mind not only impair the health of your body, but also bring dryness to the soul. You can actually consume yourself in too much striving. … Your peace and inner sweetness can be destroyed by a restless mind.”
Have you, like so many these days, become increasingly cynical, overly analytical and suspicious toward people and life in general? Where do we find refreshment for our souls in a desert with no streams? How do we ignite our soul and begin cultivating our imagination? How do we find that quiet space in our lives again to reflect, create, pray, and dream? Keep reading.
First, we must see solitude or silence as a positive experience, not a negative one. Some women may actually be afraid of time alone. As Richard Foster says in Celebration of Discipline (HarperSanFrancisco), “The fear of being left alone petrifies people … our fear of being alone drives us to noise and crowds.” We have, in many ways, become dependent on noise and activity to make us feel alive and purposeful. We become anxious when we have nothing to do.
Unfortunately, we miss the opportunity that solitude offers us for much-needed rest and reflection—the kind of stillness that enriches our world and the quality of our relationships. For example, I feel a greater sense of compassion and desire to be attentive to others after I have spent some time alone. As Thomas Merton says, “It is in deep solitude that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love [others]. The more solitary I am, the more affection I have for them. It is pure affection and filled with reverence for the solitude of others.”
Solitude requires giving yourself permission to be alone once in a while. This will be harder for some. One of the reasons we resist solitude is that it make us feel useless or empty. We are used to controlling the world around us, and we get anxious when we are not moving all the time. We need to learn how to disengage from the nonstop demands of work, relationships and parenting and allow others to step in for a few moments to take over. It may also require organizing our time better so that we have margins in our schedules to take a breather and re-energize. When we are quiet, we have the opportunity to trust God more.
I often find that when I take 20 minutes out of my day to lie down, read or pray, new and life-giving thoughts fill my mind. Some of my greatest ideas for writing, media and ministry projects have even come to me during five-minute showers. As a mother of young children, sometimes a shower is the only “alone time” I get during the day. But when I can be alone, I hear from God more clearly. I turn over in my mind new ways to approach a problem or obstacle. I sense my shortcomings and remember to apologize to my loved ones.
Will you make time for yourself? It’s as simple as closing the door or taking a walk outdoors. You don’t have to live a frazzled, stressed-out life. You can love and enjoy people more because you make time to love yourself. Solitude awaits you.
I'm especially partial to America Land. Why wouldn't there be an America Land in heaven?!
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