One step forward, two steps back

The barista leaned out from the drive-through window to tell the awaiting patrons that the car ahead of them that had just left had graciously paid for their order. Three grande coffees suddenly on the house thanks to the mysterious Mazda now pulling away into the night. To which the driver replied, "We will pay for the car behind us then!"

"Their total comes to $21.97" the barista replied.

There was a tense moment of silence as the pair exchanged suddenly unsure looks. Their order as they had placed it was to come to $5 and some change.

"I'll pay" said the passenger as she passed her debit card from her hand to the driver.

"That was a lot" said the driver.

"Yeah" she said meekly. She craned her neck around to look at the sedan full of college-aged students behind them in the line. "But it's Christmas. Tis the season to 'pay it forward' right?"

The light turned red as they pulled into the left hand turn lane heading home. There leaning on the traffic sign post was a woman with a tattered blue hoodie pulled up over her head. Through the fog, the traffic lights cast bright a red and green haze over the intersection; the glow highlighting her shivering body clutching a cardboard sign. With the light timed so as not to change any time soon, everyone in the car pried the lids off of their coffees. Blowing the steam from the tops of their insulated cups, they all found something else to stare at.

The light turned green and off they went. Leaving the woman and her tattered sign now glowing in their red tail lights mixing in with the green hazy night.

_ _

When we use the Christian sacred act of good will towards others by way of purchasing the Starbucks order of the car behind us, we are "paying it forward". But then to intentionally avoid eye contact with the woman standing in the median clutching a cardboard sign, we essentially neuter the previous message of hope within the body of the Gospel we had originally intended to participate in.

To offer a gift of payment for goods that we could already afford is a kind gesture and it should not be examined as anything other than a hospitable act of affection. It is a step in the right direction. Many acts of random kindness have the ability to change a culture in a positive way. To be the recipient of one of these acts changes the daily pattern of individualism one experiences in this world of consumerism and personal accomplishment. It is nice to know that even though someone did not have to, they were selfless enough to look out for another.

But a step in the right direction begs for the other foot to follow it. Like a pitcher who has just released a ninety mile-an-hour fastball towards the plate. His foot planted firmly in the mound and his toes facing the catcher. His arm creates a momentum so aggressive that his foot that was once wedged against the rubber must now be lifted off and away as his hips carry his leg over and into the grass before him. A movement as big as grace cannot stand alone. The body of Christ responds to the motion of its limbs. And when the feet leap to life, the body responds and follows in sequence.

A pastor once gave a sermon where he encouraged his listeners to, "run as fast as you possibly can towards the Cross. And when you cannot run any farther, your lungs cannot hold another breath, your legs cannot step forward once more, look to your left and look to your right. Whoever is standing next to you in that moment, marry that person." In the Christian journey, it is necessary that this all out sprint be littered with acts of kindness and grace to others one experiences along the way. For the Cross is the goal and not the tasks that direct the path to it.

The journey will be difficult, and at times you may be tested as to which way to head. At times your legs may stumble as one foot directs itself to the fork to the left and the other to the right. But the body must go one way and one way only. It does no good to walk one step in one direction only to undo your deed by walking two steps back to the divide. As God as your guide, the way will be lit with true glowing orientation. Once you have a bearing again, let your first leg follow the other into the light.

It says in Luke 2 that there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest...

and on earth peace...

...good will toward men."

Hark! The herald angels sing, "Glory to the newborn King!" Peace on earth and mercy mild. God and sinners reconcile.

May we the feet find ourselves charging forward in a coordinated and balanced effort into the message of hope this Christmas. The goal is the Cross. The distance is full of opportunities to tend to the flocks in need of shepherding. At times the route will seem dark and foggy but in fixing your gaze upon Christ, may you never find yourself tripping upon the mixed endeavors of dichotomous Christian charity and intentional averting of attention from those who beg for it. May you instead see God in the eyes of otherwise forgotten children straddling our freeway off-ramps clutching the requests of healing of a broken of spirit. In those moments of recognition, may you be the bringer of good news to those who would flock to hear it if only it were extended and spoken.

This Advent season, may joy be brought to sinners who sip coffee from decorative red cups as well as those who are fixing for more than a jolt of caffeine. May our clemency come from God to be poured out in more ways than the gift of discounted lattes served to those who can afford to be patrons. May our patronage be to the Gospel as we pay out the grace of God forward to those truly in need wherever we may encounter them.  And may you continue to run relentlessly into foggy nights heading steadily towards the beautiful Cross.

No shirt, no shoes, no service

What does it mean to be a pastor in the public square as a man with emotions, preferences, and flaws?

What would it take to view the world through the pastoral lens of, "I may some day be asked to conduct your funeral" so I must therefore exist in harmony with my neighbor? That way, when the music fades in one stream, the harmonious tones create reminiscent memories to who the person who once was. Even if the sound is not the same, we would be able to confidently attest to a kind word that was practiced in life rather than a false word practiced moments before stepping forward to the microphone.

As Christians, our goal is harmonize with the message of Christ as an ever living testament to the will of grace and the love of God. Even if we are aware of our inability to be Christ. While, at times, the world feels like it aspires to follow the boundaries of a convenience store clerk, 'No shirt, no shoes, no service.' In the church, if someone is disagreeable, angry, loose of lips, vengeful, morally corrupt, and dissonant against the pastor and the church, then (knowingly or unwittingly) boundaries are formed. 

But what then is the church to do when faced with the shirtless, the shoeless, and still in need of someone to serve them?

Our lawful signs are no longer useful in ministry in this regard. For the one without clothes and footwear is like the parable Jesus spoke as recorded in the book of Matthew, chapter twenty-five in regard to the Judgment of the Nations. The world is full of those who are hungry and in need of a feast, thirsty and in need of a drink, strange and in need of acceptance, shirtless in need of a change, sick and in need of a cure, imprisoned and in need of freedom.

'No shirt, no shoes, no service' can be a thing of the past on the doors of the church if we let it. We can, and have, regrettably tapped the sign angrily with our finger as we gave them a piece of our mind. But given the chance to do it all over again, what's to keep us from giving them more than a harsh word?

Instead, rejoice in the moments where you are given the chance to harmonize with those who sing a song unusual to that of your average passerby. As you remove your own shirt and lift off your shoes, recognize that you are then standing on holy ground as you serve those who are unable to receive service everywhere else. And listen to the righteous sound it makes as you extend help to the off-beat sister and brother. 

For a time may come when you will be asked to speak on their behalf in their passing. So extend a chance to have them walk a mile in your shoes and live a while in your shirt. May you find yourself unable to enter any convenience store due to a lack of appropriate attire. And instead find yourself nearly bare at the pulpit singing of the amazing grace of a well worn pair of shoes and a tattered shirt. 

How sweet the sound to know that the song we would sing is one of kind assistance. Regardless of the signs that say otherwise.

A service with no shirt and no shoes.

                    

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

The Arrogance of Education

We were blessed with a story of overwhelming evangelistic success today in a special chapel service. Pastor Sibanda is from Zimbabwe where he began serving in a district of 270 members without any formal theological education or training. Armed with the Bible and the book Christian Service written by Ellen White he began praying for and training his members to visit, care for and study with people in their area. Over the last 6 years the district has grown from 270 members to over 21,000. Yes, you read that right.

The story of care for people was compelling and powerful in spite of the awkwardness of the two pastors trying to help tell it. Growth like this in a church is unheard of in nearly EVERY denomination and especially mind-blowing in the Seventh-day Adventist church. Certainly church leaders and planters are eager to know the formula for success in soul-winning and so Pastor Sibanda is brought to enlighten us.

His words were humble and simple. The formula was embarrassing to an institution whose goal is to sell toolboxes full of soul-winning implements. The answer was simply this: 2-3 hours of prayer for the district, it's people and their struggles; and, read/study the Bible to the point that its words are planted in the mind for further meditation and study when the Bible isn't even physically available; and finally, implementing the methods of service from the book Christian Service.

One of the interviewers really showed the true arrogance of this institution when in response to this he said: "Isn't it amazing what God can do with a young person with no formal training? I'm not saying this to tell you to leave the seminary. But imagine what God could do with someone with the right training?"

Say what??? Does anyone else see the arrogance in this statement?

Here is a man who God has used to grow a district at an astronomical rate and the best we can highlight is that his success would have been greater if he had had more training? Wouldn't it make more sense to highlight that his success probably would have been hindered if he had more formal training?

I can envision this same professor standing up next to Jesus and praising Christ's miracles and ministry and salvation on the cross, but OH, what if Jesus had been formally trained...how much more He could have accomplished!!

Hogwash.

Let's stop patting ourselves on the back for building big institutions and thinking that only the "formally educated" can be successful. Let's praise the work of God in those who are not hindered by their intelligence and degrees. Let's exalt a God who works in spite of our intelligence, education and arrogance. Let's follow the power-filled example of Pastor Sibanda and actually pray the 2-3 hours for our church and fill our minds with the Bible so deeply that we have the Scriptures with us even when the physical Bible isn't present. I find that far more useful than many of the useless facts I'm forced to memorize right now.

We Are Giants

A man once set out to see what he could see. After awhile other men too set out seeking sight outside of what they perceived. Soon it became apparent that the ability of one man would produce only so much vision. And so the men assembled, to see what they could see.

Men standing on the shoulders of men to see farther than they could have alone. What began as a collective journey soon became a riot of haves and have nots. Foundational carcasses below the feet of those above them. Now atop the mound of those sacrificed seeking to see further, but with no one else to stand on top of, soon find themselves moaning under the weight of those who have come after they. 

"We were once the giants" they proclaim meekly before they are permanently affixed as little more than the forgotten past. A piece of the landscape no longer beautiful enough to be admired. Trodden under foot and silenced in the past with every new trek to the ever climbing summit.

"We are the giants!" they shout from the mountain tops. Seeing farther than any before them ever could. With their eyes set on the horizon, scanning what can only be described as their own from atop their perched throne. They are amazed at what a spectacle it is to see. All the while, their shouts of power and ability drown out the groans from below of those who helped them get there. 

And still further down the muffled wails of those on the bottom, deaf, blind and clueless to the world they are now secluded from. "We were once the giants." Though the voices tell that the memories of that truth are rapidly fading away.

Further down still. The shout of the single prophet. Standing on the shoulders of no one. Singing the message to nothing or no one in particular. Simply sharing a word with those who may care to hear. 

"We are merely giants," she belts.

"We are merely giants."

#seminaryslides

Last week's #seminaryslides were impressively awful. Can you spot the hidden words in the first one?

start doing

Instead of talking about telling the world about the message of rest and peace our church wishes to share I'm happy to share an article from a colleague and friend bringing attention to the power of the Sabbath.

Washington Post: Sabbath

Seminary voice doppelgänger

If you've taken a class from him, then you already know.

This is an actual email sent to the "Women's Clergy Network" of the seminary. I wish I was joking. You can't make this stuff up. I still can't believe it's real...

Hi, ladies!

The "Women's Clergy Network" participants have been asked if they could
assist in preparing sandwiches for Sunday morning, October 28th for the
refreshments that afternoon.

Just when you thought that "Woman, go make me a sandwich" had become something most people only said jokingly, the Seminary is here to remind us that gender stereotypes are alive and well. For some reason the fact that it's not just any food, but sandwiches in particular, makes it worse. Here's to hoping some men's group will be asked to make sandwiches for the next event and this was all a misunderstanding on my part.

Entitled

Finish, then, Thy new creation;
Pure and spotless let us be;
Let us see Thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in Thee:
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place,
Till we cast our crowns before Thee,
Lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Love Divine SDA Hymnal #191 


Shortly after Chapel had commenced, the screen above the pulpit flashed a slide featuring a brief biography of the day's service provider. This week we were privileged to have a Music Director leading us in a medley of hymnal staples in lieu of a sermon-based service. His bio included his Doctorate studies as well as his official title of Pastor as he was attached to a local church through his music ministry. After briefly running through a very brief introduction to the order of the alternative service, he retreated to the organ as the church rose to its feet. And there we sang the hymn above.

In a room filled nearly to capacity with students plucked from the mission field across the world, all singing these words in unison to God above in praise. While there is nothing out of the ordinary about this scene, there is something strange about the moment outside of that which is visible or auditory. It is the presence that is a bit off, and it would not surprise me to find that I am the only one feeling this sensation in the room.

I'm not so sure we are understanding what we are singing out to God.

It was as I sang the last verse that it hit me, we are emotionally tuned to this familiar melody and reading the words directly off of the page, but there is a disconnect between what we are saying and what it is we are all doing. If we were sincere with our tuned words of praise, then what's keeping us from acting it out as well? A fellow contributor to this blog once volunteered as a choir director and explained a very similar sentiment in the following way, "If we are going to sing about our hands lifted high, we should be lifting our hands."

The choir sounded fine, the harmonies were flowing, and the church was standing in unison, but suddenly were all singing out instructions. Except no one was following the words as they arrived at our lips. I imagined for a moment a group of people singing the Hokey Pokey stock still but hitting all of the right notes along the way.

If we are to be looking forward to a day when we cast aside our crowns, our accolades, our earthly possessions, and our individualism, then what in the world are we doing beginning every service by naming the people in the room who have a degree in Theology? To introduce a person with the title of "pastor" in a room full of pastors makes very little sense. The title of pastor is a distinction best suited to provide a classification of formal settings of a religious nature as needed. But suddenly the title of pastor is being passed out to people to impress and flaunt. But when seated in a room where God has been invited to sit in on the service, our titles don't seem to hold much weight. Especially when singing out about casting out crowns with the desire to turn earthly glory into heavenly recognition, restored, pure and without spot.

For such a loud noise speaking out otherwise, we sure do seem to enjoy our spotted crowns.

There is a basic assumption that everyone in the Seminary is a Christian and a devoted member to the Gospel message. While not everyone in the room has been graced with Conference badging and not everyone has been working as the head of a church. But when a majority of the room fits the exact same category as one another, it's like walking into a crowded medical symposium in a conference hall and saying "Doctor?" out loud. Not everyone will crane their head around, but when almost everyone does turn around, it's time to be more specific.

I believe that the direction of specificity is best suited in the informal direction. I think as a group, we can all accept that anyone designated for public speaking at the pulpit for Chapel is an important person and qualified for the service in whatever regards they are placed. And if the qualification is not in question, then I believe that their first name alone is perfectly acceptable as an introduction. No need to announce that they have a degree, have worked in a church, or had a job in the mission field. You can come as you are; crowns cast aside. And from there, you can bring the word of God with you as a woman or as a man with a vision. And that will always be good enough.

Let us leave the world of credibility in the academic world if only for a moment and instead let the holy word of Adonai be lifted as the crown. Let us see the title of God be lifted higher than everything else. Let us follow the words of God's children because they lead to God and not simply because the words were penned by a relative of J.N. Andrews, Uriah Smith, or Sebastian Bach leave us star-struck and amazed. Let us end the practice of name-dropping by first dropping our own ranks and begin a pile next to the crowns.

Let us briefly experience what is like to sing out the words lost in wonder, love, and praise as people truly lost in a crowd of unclassified Christians. And then let us be okay with not trying to shepherd in sheep's clothing. And then, let us sing:


Finish, then, Thy new creation;
Pure and spotless let us be;
Let us see Thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in Thee:
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place,
Till we cast our crowns before Thee,
Lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Because in the end, we are all entitled to a love divine.

#seminarysleepers

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad God?

"As you come into the Chapel this morning students. Do not forget that we have invited God into this place to be with us during this time. And surely we want to hear the voice of God speaking to us. And in all likelihood we would miss God's voice if we were to be talking over Him. So please, do not talk in the Chapel as you enter into a peaceful quiet with God."

While the above quote is likely not verbatim as was spoken in Chapel, it is nearly word-for-word a recreation of the sentiment voiced to all Seminary students as they entered the mandatory Chapel service. A mandated gag-order from the highest court spoken from the lips of the professor whose primary purpose at the Seminary is to teach how to speak the Word of God to the masses. 

Quiet in the Sanctuary. So as to hear the voice of God (and the voice of the prompting pastor) without interruption. 

Now I was not raised in the Adventist church, and I was not taught first hand to walk softly in the Sanctuary throughout the Sabbath school ranks as a child. So maybe this is just another friendly reminder to err on the side of childhood and speak softly and reverently once you cross the threshold of the Chapel doors. But even after the not so gentle shushing from the pulpit seven minutes before the service has begun, there is still a bitter taste left in my now closed mouth. What happens to the body of Christ when we manipulate and regulate the use of its parts? In the Chapel we are informed when to sit, when to stand, when to speak, what to say ("Amen?" "Good morning church. That's not good enough, let's try that again, GOOD MORNING CHURCH" "Good is Good? All the time...", when/what to sing, when to listen, and when its all said and done, we are asked to leave to make way for a class that meets inside.  But before all of this is initiated into the portion we are required to witness to maintain good standing with the University enrollment offices (and with God), remain quiet until we are ready for you. 

Never mind the fact that the Seminary Worship team is busy shuffling around checking the mice, snapping off photos, the praise team is huddled on the stage reviewing notes and song ordering, the speaker is being informed of their time restraints and familiarizing themselves with the digital monitors at their legs, the radios clipped to the belts of each program director is alive and robust with conversation from the sound booth, the projection screen is being lowered into place as it coordinates with the mechanical hum of the window shades dropping over the golden windows, and over the sound of it all, the orator is verbally reminding everyone to be quiet through an amplified microphone. Just so that we can await the sound of God speaking. The Body of Christ (with the exception of the chosen t-shirted few) is now silently immobile facing forward. 

Like a classroom. 

Like God intended.

As a student of the Seminary scheduling from day-to-day, I recognize that my minutes are mostly full of assigned classwork, extra-curricular studying, and idle attentiveness to a professor in lecture. With the workload burdening each person enrolled in courses, one would assume that there would be time to create community among each other outside of the classroom setting. And maybe there will come a time for that later on in our educational careers, maybe I'm being too hasty to judge the situation. But I doubt it. We are required to follow countless syllabi at the demand of the professors who pen them. No phones in class, no browsing the Internet on our laptops, all eyes forward and no interruptions unless granted permission. This is the socialized norm that we all have accepted and it is upheld across the board. And within the classroom context, it makes logical sense. And so we act according to the command of the social contract.

The Chapel is a different location in my own mind and therefore the social code is in need of alteration. As busy Seminary students familiar with the sanctity of the Sanctuary and not a threat to disrupt the service with the clanging of our toy cars, messy baggies of Cheerios, obtrusive crying fits, or sliding beneath the pews on some adventure, we gather together as one Body. And that body must find its connective tissues that create stability and flexibility. We are told to do more than just study and memorize the facts we are provided in lectures. We are prompted to be close to our families and not negate our tasks as members of a unit. We donate our weekends to mandatory testing, classroom designated field trips, and the required hours of studying the textbooks and class notes to pass the quizzes and tests that await us. And all the while, we are a group of individuals from across the globe tossed into a very small space together as we boast of the greatest diversity in the United States educational system. But is that fact any more than an eye-catching blurb used to enrich enrollment numbers? If we never have the time to explore the body for what more than what it represents and recognize that it is different in places, then we are not diverse in as much as we are strangers in muted silence. 

It is my view that the Chapel is a safe place for the Body of Christ to assemble and grow. And while we have invited God to share the space with us for a brief time, I also believe that we all haven been given a great gift to be more than an idle witness to the activity of God in the world. There have been countless times in which I have begun what ultimately became a shallow conversation with someone new simply because we did not have the time to do little more than cover the basic niceties before moving on again. So why not utilize the space God has provided in each person called by God who just so happens to be located in a Chapel? Why not be the voice of God as we reach out in the love of Christ to touch a stranger in the brief moments before silence is once again mandated to give right-of-way to the orator? Why not let God speak in the words of the friends we have begun to make in the safest place to make them? And why are we telling God how to speak by strapping His feet to the floor, sealing His lips, and closing His eyes? 

I for one believe that we miss more of what God has to say when we pretend as if God is regulated in the silence. And if God were to speak, I'd surely want to hear what He had to say. But I don't believe that we are speaking over Him as much as we are experiencing Him in presence of His people searching after His own heart. 

Maybe I am tempting the wrath of God by reaching out and touching someone after I pass into the Chapel. But maybe I'm not so afraid of the God the pastor speaks of in as much as I'm trying to experience more than a God who is more than fickle about His children fellowshipping before Him.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad God? 

Not me. And so I speak...

#seminarysleepers

#seminaryprayers

We've noticed some competitive praying and prayers with bad theology and so instead of complaining, I'll use these moments to remind myself to pray.

God of all people and situations, encourage me when I am discouraged in my context, remind me to give to those I think worse off, pray for those I think better off, and love those that may discourage me in the first place. Thank you for abiding with me in every situation and for gracefully rebuking me in my stubbornness and arrogance. Lord, continually remind me of the beautiful gift of your son. Amen.

Stuck

Stuck: the word that can most accurately describe my Seminary experience so far. It's not that I'm stuck in a small, secluded Michigan town. It's not that I'm stuck making less money than I was when working full time. It's not even that I'm stuck going to school...again. It's that seemingly everything that happens in the Seminary is stuck. Stuck at a point in the past. Stuck in the geographical constraints of Michigander Adventism. Stuck in stagnant theology. Stuck in the issues that we address as a learning community. Professors and students relay basic, conservative theology like they're breaking new ground. Professors and students announce outdated ministerial models with fervor for the new steps they're taking, and worry about the backlash. Professors and students spend significant time discussing issues in general that I've routinely joked about as being the ridiculous hot-button issues of our denomination, thinking that most mature Adventists could not still be wrestling with them.

In one class today we spent the whole period talking about the appropriateness of sports or television on Sabbath, jewelry, kneeling versus standing in church, watching movies in theaters or at home, headship in marriage, and (I wish I was joking) modesty in colors and designs. We were stuck in an earliteen Sabbath school class. If we really are graduate students, if we are really to be trusted with the present and future of our church, and if we are really to minister in diverse contexts throughout the world then we desperately need to get unstuck. This not only should be, but must be, the place where we wrestle with tough issues, different theologies, creative worship, and diverse and new opinions on myriad subjects. The Seminary, and, in many places our church, is stuck and we are squandering one of the best opportunities to change that.

#seminarysleepers

Supposed to be vetting a potential professor. Hope this doesn't hurt his chances.

#seminarysleepers

Three!!!

Responsive Learning

Seminary learning is much different than learning in any other department of education. You may sit in nursing classes, business classes, ESL classes, biology classes, social work classes, even underwater basket-weaving classes, and never experience a learning environment similar to seminary.

In my defense, I earned my first degree in business administration. Decorum in class was thoughtful and organized. The syllabus ruled. Discussions followed a focused path. Questions rarely carried loaded meanings or poorly shrouded agendas. People exercised civility despite disagreements. When professors or classmates made a good point they were greeted with a handshake or slap on the back and encouraged to run with their idea. Writing about all of the ways seminary contrasts my undergraduate experience would lead to a far greater tome than you would wish to read today, so I'll save most of those for another day. Today we focus on responsive learning.

Long gone is the simplicity of shaking the hand or slapping the back of the commenters. We no longer wait for the end of class to encourage the speaker in their beliefs or presentation of their belief. Feedback is instant. Feedback is voracious. Feedback is robust. Feedback is loud.

Imagine you begin declaring the joy of God's grace and forgiveness. Be prepared to pause in appropriate spots for the hearty "amens" coming from those around you. Comment on pushy legalistic members and welcome a resounding "WELLLLL!!" from the classroom congregation. Bring up any one of the hot button items in the church (i.e. ordination of lady ministers, distrustful leadership, or seminarian finances) and out comes "Preach!" or "Take your time, take your time!" Sing with confidence and you may hear "Don't play with it, Girl! Sing that song!"

The importance of affirmation cannot be completely forsaken, but it seems silly the way church members and pastors holler their agreement without reserve. Never once did I have a fellow accountant holler their approval in a presentation of my work. My wife, an ER nurse, doesn't hear raucous whooping and clapping when she rants on the lack of team cohesion. Is the rest of the world just not appreciative of shared beliefs and complimentary ideas?

Sure, I've been caught up in the fervor and excitement of responsive learning. Yes, I have been known to offer boisterous, if not irreverent, affirmation to speakers and classmates. But maybe we should do more privately. Maybe instead of hollering for everyone within earshot to know how much we love or agree with someone we could quietly write it in a notebook full of our core values and beliefs. Or we could whisper a prayer of affirmation for how the comments, the ideas or the acts of worship of others move us closer to Jesus. I say the world doesn't need to hear our irreverence or praise of people but instead needs to hear the praise of Jesus Christ and what He's saying.

Trying to Make Things Hard

This made too much sense to not repost.

The Simple Things | Stuff Christians Like – Jon Acuff

#seminarysabbath

At Seminary Sights and Sounds we make light of many things. Our skepticism and jaded attitudes may appear to reign supreme, but ultimately, I hope, people know we care about these things because we believe they misrepresent or mar the picture of Jesus and His people. Or at least they make us look foolish. (Except the seminary sleepers that are just funny for the sake of being funny.)

Each week we are blessed to visit a Sabbath school and worship service that is offering a stoic and stale worship community a vibrant, open, safe and creative alternative. It steps on some folks' toes and moves many closer to Jesus.

We are not completely cynical...yet. And we are thankful for chances to see Jesus transform people in the middle of a place that makes it hard for us to see Jesus in others.

Have a restful Sabbath!

#seminarystyle

This is for J.

#seminaryslides

Fire Lion

#seminarysleepers

Preaching to the choir

As a student of the Seminary, I understand that there is a specific standard by which all students are all held to. Most standards are written laws of expected and enforced conduct while others are social norms as refereed by the student body. We are kept in check, and when all else fails we keep each other in double check. For the most part, our community toes the line and not much administrative action is necessary. In my opinion, most people understand that we are grown adults with a firm grasp of acceptable life skills needed to operate. Yet, all of this is forgotten the moment we step into any given Chapel service.

Here in the Seminary, a room full of pastors having spent time in an undergraduate-level classroom learning how to speak to a room full of believers/non-believers. An overwhelming majority of this group have worked in the ministry field putting their degrees to practical use in real time before live audiences. And of that majority, over half of that lot is in their second year of instruction at the Masters level. Which is to say that they have received a graduate level understanding of homiletics. 

In a not so distant analogy, imagine a convention held in a dimly lit conference center amidst a bustling downtown civic center. Attendance is by invitation only, and only the elite practicing magicians that managed to swing the exorbitant fee are on the guest list. The room is packed with some of the most innovative minds in the magic game. They run the gamut of slick card sharks, deceptive mind tricks, big-stage entertainers, and masters of the sleight of hand. In their hands sits a flyer with the words "Magic! Magic! Magic!" emblazoned on the front. While the back of the flyer is almost comically blank. 

The lights dim in the house as the convention begins, a big name magician slides onto the stage wearing an overly exaggerated velvet top hat, a dark flowing cape, a tuxedo with overly large cuffs in the sleeves. The PA system squeals as the seven smoke machines sputter directly into the speakers placed clumsily on the stage. The fog obscuring the man for a moment before he stumbles forward to the center of the stage. spilling a deck of cards in his hands. His hat topples to the ground exposing the flock of sickly looking doves to the misty air as they fly aimlessly around the room. Dusting himself off, the music already quickening  to a frenetic pace, he chaotically dives into his routine. 

Producing another pack of oversized cards, he spins as he tucks the deck halfheartedly into his sleeve while yanking a bouquet of roses from his jacket. Almost in awe of his own trick his eyes bulge and mouth gapes wide as he builds a bit of a swagger in his step as he throws the flowers to crowd. After a few more tricks consisting of the magician "finding a coin" behind his own ear, disappearing another deck of cards into the hand behind his back in a flash of sparks that singe his now red and throbbing fingers, and attempting to invite a random audience member on stage to no avail, the magician leaves the stage smiling ear to ear and making his own whooshing sound effects to supplement the audio track that had long since ended leaving the room in deafening silence. 

With that, the lights come up in the house and the faint buzz of faulty wiring in one of the fluorescent fixtures fills the room. A thin man steps the stage and announces that there will be refreshments in the lobby during a brief intermission before the afternoon workshops begin. A powerpoint slide appears above the man's head projected on to the wall still obscured by the sputtering haze from the smoke machines. Reading directly from the wall behind him, the man begins excitedly reading the words out loud. The sessions listed read:

"Is this your card?"- A symposium unlocking the mystery of basic card tricks

"Ta-da!"- An all-day workshop to help you choose your personalized catch phrase

"Loose Change"- Keen tips on how to keep kids entertained using a handful of coins

"Capes!"- An afternoon in the magician's closet trying on seven different capes

The man finishes his brief introductions and releases the audience into the hallway. Without a word, the magicians file into each room to begin their afternoon sessions. 

As overly exaggerated as the above may seem, I do not believe the analogy to be so farfetched as not to illuminate the very reality I have personally observed weekly. A room full of pastors, using the same mechanics of homiletics covered in week one of training, enforcing chants of God's goodness. A chorus of repetitive regurgitated lines prompted by the lecturer. Sermons on the goodness of God and the salvation of all people who believe. Testimonies from students speaking on how good God has been to them that are littered with overt baptismal appeals. Messages better suited for the weekly children's story posing as the heart of the worship service. Mandated silence in the pews after multiple threats and vicious staring into the Sanctuary from the orator. Prompts for a hearty "amen" used like punctuation after the most basic sentences. Visual aids projecting endless images clipped from the kids' quarterly database eliciting immediate repentance from a life of constant caustic sinning. A barrage of noise better suited for nothing, but best seen in the most intentional of evangelistic series'. All before a room full of pastors trained to learn the tricks that do exactly what they are supposed to do.

But even as we file into each pew to receive the tips and witness the tricks we learned as children from the boxed sets under the Christmas tree we spent months pining for, some seem to forget that they are being tricked. And so we sit looking onward pretending not to notice that we are fully aware of the next move before it happens. And when it occurs as scheduled, by the book, we "ooh" and "ahh" in unison at the wonders before us. 

I, for one, say enough is enough. I believe that we can do better than this. 

What would happen if we used the Chapel to showcase sermons that have been written that are too edgy and dark to be read in the undergraduate dorms for worship credit? What if we shared the stories of faith that would shake the common Christian sitting in the pews in our home churches? What if we were to pose the questions we know that we ask in our minds and let them rise up in the safe spaces we meet in so that we can find a release unavailable in most meeting rooms? What if we stopped acting like pastors among pastors and started being honest that we are acting? What if we spent more time trying to figure out how to struggle with the issues appropriately rather than trying to prove that we are without struggle? What if we stopped saying "amen" so that we never let on that what we are heralding is actually something we are having difficulty with? What if instead of "amen" we said "damn that's me", "yep I'm guilty of that", and "ouch"? What if we ended the Crusade and began the revolution? What if we stopped preaching to the choir and started singing a new song worth saying "amen" to?

I think it might be the best trick ever seen.

#seminarysoundoff

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

#seminarysleepers

out pastoring the pastors

pastors are a strange enough breed on their own, but the seminary pulls them all together, for better or worse, till Fs do us part. one of the most interesting things to watch is seminarians looking to out pastor the rest of the future pastoral fields. and there is no shortage of opportunities for competitive pastoring.

some examples:

praying in class - the professor asks a seminarian to pray. perhaps prayer requests are solicited. the obviously anointed seminarian prepares their voice for prayer and every eye is closed and every head is bowed. what happens next is the prayer of a late-19th century preacher at a tent meeting trying, through their prayer alone, to win the soul of every human within hearing distance. the vocabulary transcends current earthly languages. the tone deep and full (even the ladies pray this way). the prayer is given as though their grade depends on this particular sanctified soliloquy. two lines in, the class is no longer listening to the earnest words of the prayer but wondering whether the prayer-giver really thinks it necessary to out pray anyone whose ever prayed before.

singing hymns - seminary worship comes to order and the announcements are given. the organ fires up and begins dragging melodiously monotonously through a hymn at half one-eighth the speed the hymn should actually be played. then the lone chorister begins majestically hilariously leading their captive chorus. arms flailing just within their control the song oozes on. seminarians throughout the auditorium are proclaiming the message of the gospel in song as loudly as possible. one has the vocal reach of a tugboat signaling its moves. another sounds like a freight train barreling through a tiny midwestern town. all parts are covered and no fewer than half are singing their way to salvation.

practical pastoral ministry - without fail the class conversation turns to "real" ministry and application of knowledge and ideas in local churches. God forbid someone who has actually pastored in a church be given any consideration, though. you share your experience in your church and suddenly those who have only sat in pews feel it their God-directed mission to explain how you have no clue what it takes to lead a church. "you just need to exert the natural authority of your position as pastor," they say. "i've seen this work before," they add. in your mind you imagine them being tar-and-feathered at their very first elder's meeting, not to mention what would happen at their first board meeting. unfortunately for you they were in your class to help set you straight. and don't worry, you'll also get to spend the next 2.5 years in the same classes so they can continue to impart such ministerial gems to you for your files.

there are more examples, certainly. this barely scratches the surface. let us know your favorite "out pastoring the pastor" moment(s) in the comments.

#seminarysleepers

seminary sleep sighting