John Barry

Dishonesty is Like a Monkey with Cymbals

John Barry — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 19:00:07 -0700

We all know being dishonest with others is wrong and unacceptable: enough said. But there’s a kind of dishonesty we usually don’t talk about: being dishonest with ourselves. It happens when we’re unwilling to admit our personal faults and weaknesses. We convince ourselves that we can overcome our greatest weaknesses on our own. We go on without accountability. Eventually, either by force or surrender, though, we have to come to terms with who we really are.

If worry is like a dancing bear, then dishonesty is like a monkey with clanging cymbals. I’m a drummer—while we’re being honest, I prefer to be called a percussionist; if you’re a musician, you will get the joke, if not, I’ll just say I do more than bang on trash cans—so I love the toy monkeys with clanging cymbals. And I love the videos of monkeys trying to play with percussion instruments. (That stuff is make your ribs-hurt funny.) But when the monkey with clanging cymbals comes on the scene, we have a hard time hearing anything else. While that monkey is telling us lies about good music, like a garage-band drummer, we can’t hear the real melody. We can’t tune for the life of us. Eventually, we end up playing punk rock and having black hair, and calling ourselves an artist. (I did that, for the record.)

Sooner or later, though, the monkey stops clanging his cymbals for a moment and we hear something else: silence. And in the moments when it’s just you and your thoughts, you begin to reflect: God hasn’t been around for a while. Until it dawns on you, “He’s been here along—it’s me who hasn’t been around. It’s just been that darn, loud monkey version of me. It was funny and fun, but I still have a need for real music.”

We have a hard time perceiving God in the silence because we’re so loud. Dishonesty is like an amplifier of the noise. But eventually the silence will reach us, and we will have to make a change; so why not make it now?

We all have moments when we have to make decisions about who we are, and who we want to be. So we just need to shut up the monkey and make the decision. We just need to say: “I will listen to God. And I will admit my weaknesses and ask for help—from him and from other people.”

Are you willing to make a change? What’s your monkey with clanging cymbals?

For further reflection read the story of Elijah meeting God in the silence.

When Christians are Wrong

John Barry — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 17:44:17 -0700

Many of the problems in Christianity are rooted in assumptions.

We assume that the Bible is inerrant and infallible. (Have you looked for yourself?) We assume God is good. (Have you read Joshua?) We assume that anyone who even questions those beliefs is a heretic. (Are you thinking that about me?) Some of our assumptions are correct, but the fact that we make assumptions is not.

I used to fail in my attempts to tell people about Jesus for one simple reason: I worked from my assumptions about the Bible. It wasn’t until I really examined where the Bible came from that I was able to effectively communicate what I believed about Jesus with other people.

An entrepreneur’s book recently reminded me of this lesson. Seth Godin, in Tribes: We Need You to Lead Us, says:

“Marketing changed the idea of stability. It’s human nature—we still assume the world is stable, still assume that Google will be number one in five years, that we’ll type on keyboards and fly on airplanes, that China will keep growing, and that the polar ice cap won’t really be melted in six years. And we’re wrong” (pg. 16).

Godin’s right: The world will change. And here’s the biblical version: God is all about change. The world needs to transform. We need to be transformed.And before you think believing in Jesus is about stability, think about this: Jesus is also all about change. He is a mechanism of change. He wants us to stop making assumptions, and stop forcing them on other people. He wants us to be vehicles of transformation instead.

The kingdom of God is about changed lives. Right at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, in Mark 1:15, Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is near” (Mark 1:15). And he follows that up with “Repent and believe in the good news,” which means “Turn the other way [away from sin] and believe in the good news” of Jesus.

The “is near” is a translation of the Greek engizoe: “draw near.” In Mark 1:15 it's in the past tense, yet the word itself has a present (or now) idea: “is present.” I would translate it “the kingdom of God has drawn near” or “the kingdom of God is at hand.” The idea isn’t “it's coming soon.” The idea is that it's already present with Jesus’ ministry and that there’s still more of the kingdom coming. It’s present, but still being worked out in the ministry of Christ and his disciples.

Many of the people of Jesus’ day weren’t ready to embrace change. (After all, they killed him for his beliefs.) Like them, the question for us becomes: Are we willing to lay aside religion, and assumptions, for the sake of an honest examination of who Jesus is? Are we willing to let Christ change our lives and the lives of others by simply letting him be who he is?

God called us to have a living, breathing and active faith. That’s the mystery of Christ.

What incorrect assumptions are we making about God? What needs to change? How can we change our world with the mystery of Christ?

The link for Tribes is an affiliate link, which means that if you purchase something after clicking on it I will receive a small payment. Nonetheless, I only recommend books I personally find helpful.

Mystery: The Orthodox Taboo of Christianity

John Barry — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 20:05:00 -0700

“And then she told me, ‘Your father, your girlfriend, and your brother were run off the road. They didn’t make it. They’re dead.’ I didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to hearing those words over the phone?”

As he told me this story, my friend began to subtly cry—one small tear at a time. I didn’t know what to say either. But I quickly realized, there’s nothing to say—just listen. In listening, I learned something profound.

The art of listening alone is profound. But I learned something else from my friend on Tuesday night. After telling me his story, he began to talk about something that is shockingly taboo: Christ is mystery.

The words of Paul suddenly rang in my head. Paul says to the Ephesians:

“You have heard, haven’t you, about the administration of God’s grace that He gave to me for you? The mystery was made known to me by revelation ... By reading this [letter] you are able to understand my insight about the mystery of the Messiah. This was not made known to people in other generations as it is now revealed to His holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: the Gentiles [non-Jews] are co-heirs, members of the same body [that is the church], and partners of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I was made a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace that was given to me by the working of His power” (Ephesians 3:1–7 HCSB).

I couldn’t get these words out of my head as my friend, who happens to be on the underside of power, kept saying, “And that’s the mystery. God has come to me. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. I couldn’t survive this without him. I have nothing left. I’ve lost everything. But I have Christ—that’s the mystery of his gospel. He comes to me in my pain, and in everyone who wants him.” Paul realized the same thing. And on Tuesday night, I finally got the profoundness of Christ coming to everyone.

By us making the whole notion of “mystery” taboo in our churches—because we believe it will lead to cult religions or something else—we have lost sight of what the mystery of Christ can do for those who are hurting.

Instead of trying to explain to those in pain how God will be there for them, or explain why people die, we need to encourage people to seek out the mystery of Christ. We need to help people see that when their entire life lacks certainty, only a great mystery can comfort them—only Jesus.

Paul was right. We need the mystery of the Messiah. We need a little taboo mystery in our lives. We need something incomprehensible, something astounding. We need the infinite God in the midst of everything.

So tell me: What could a little taboo, yet orthodox, Christianity do for you? Where do you need mystery in your life? How can you bring Christ’s mystery into the lives of your friends?

Some recommended reading related to this subject:

Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Orthodoxy by G.K. Cheserton

Feel by Matthew Elliott

Note: The recommended reading links are affiliate links, which means I will make a small amount if you purchase something after clicking through them. Also, I received a free review copy of Matthew Elliott’s Feel. Nonetheless, I only recommend books I personally find helpful.

Spirituality that Grows Like a Weed

John Barry — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 19:31:07 -0700

Vision casters desire that the roots of their vision grow deep and wide. They want to see their vision catch on and grow in the hearts and minds of others like weeds. But it's easy to stray away from a central vision, and before you know it, you're growing a different kind of tree entirely.

Part of my backyard looks like this right now. My flowerbed in the back is growing ginormous weeds. You know, the type that could take over the planet if they want to. (I could personify them further, but I'll leave that to you.) As my wife and I (well mainly her) began conquering the green monsters in the backyard, I wondered, "What kind of weeds are growing inside of me? The kind of vision (the kind that bear fruit), or ones that will kill out all that is good? For this reason, I often pray, "God, help me to see the good in others today." I have realized that if I don't look for the best in other people, my vision of a better world -- a world where people search for God in everything and make him known in all parts of their lives -- will never come to fruition.

To shoot straight, I have not always been certain where the idea of seeing the infinite God in everything would take us. I'm still working it out a bit. Don't get me wrong, I have an idea, but I have been letting that idea spread, and hopefully grow. I want an idea that is truly from God, and Bible driven, to grow like weeds in my heart and in our lives. So, I'm curious what does seeing the infinite in everything mean to you? What does it look like? What is growing in your life?

To give you an idea of how my thoughts about the infinite in everything began, check out this post here. Then drop me a comment on this thread. I would love to hear from you.

Brand-New Website about Ancient Prophecy

John Barry — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 23:20:41 -0700

My new website, ResurrectedServant.com is now live! Subscribe to the RSS feed today and start learning about the resurrected servant prophesied 500 years before Jesus. This is also the subject matter of my new book.

Check out ResurrectedServant.com here.

My New Friend Vulnerability

John Barry — Tue, 11 May 2010 22:34:16 -0700

We keep our distance. We put up walls. All because we believe vulnerability will come back to kick us in the behind, or even kill us. Something recently happened that changed my mind about my new friend vulnerability.

I used to write headlines for Bible Study Magazine. I don't anymore. But I didn't figure out that I stink at writing headlines on my own. In fact, I thought I was pretty good at it. I'm not. After some critique from leaders more skilled than myself, I decided to stop writing headlines. I turned to our artists and said, "I can't write headlines worth squat. I need your help." That decision made our entire magazine better. Our art is better. Our concepts are better. The narrative arc of our magazine is better. Everything is better. We now tell a story together.

I went from being "Mr. Know-it-All" to "Mr. I-Can't-Pull-This-Off-Without-You." Dynamics changed. I learned. We grew together. Because I decided to be vulnerable. And I have realized that in my friendships, I have to do the same. I won't grow if I don't admit to my friends what I stink at. Likewise, my relationship with God won't grow if I don't confess my weaknesses.

Paul realized this. In his second letter to the Corinthians, in the midst of rebuking them (primarily for misunderstanding him and not believing him), he says that "a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited." I cannot think of a more difficult time to be honest than in a major dispute that could result in you being demoted from your position. Yet, in this circumstance, Paul brings up his weakness. Why? Because honesty works. People respect it. Paul goes onto say that God told him, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." He follows this by saying, "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). He will boast in his weaknesses? Is he insane? No. That's strength. That's a leader. That's someone who is friends with vulnerability.

But before this Paul was a hedger: someone who is never vulnerable, but instead protective. I was in similar shoes. Where did I learn to hedge all my headlines in unnecessary jargon? Where did I learn to hedge my life experiences, and weaknesses? I spent several years in the academic guild where I learned to describe (in great detail) what I planned to write and how I planned to write. That's boring. I still catch myself applying this principle to my writing. It's still boring. When we hedge our writing, our art form, or just our conversations, we miss out -- both on our potential, and the potential of our relationships. We miss out on what God wants to do inside of us and through us.

Donald Miller, in his writing workshop Into the Elements available on DVD from BlueFish TV, says something similar about writing: "I have less limits than most people when it comes to being completely honest. So I write about that zone most people are scared to write about. But there is a wall. You know the place that I would only tell you about after I have known you for 15 years. And when I reach that wall, my fingers begin to tremble. To really be a great writer though, to gain the trust of the reader, you have to hand them the gun. You have to write about the wall. And for that reason I wrote about the fact that I wet the bed until age eleven or twelve" (a paraphrase).

Don's right. We have to be willing to hand people the gun. How would your relationships with other people change if you were willing to hand them the gun? How would our world look differently if we were all willing to be friends with vulnerability? How would it help us, and others, to see the infinite God at work in everything?

Note: I received a review copy of Into the Elements for free from BlueFish TV. Nonetheless, I only endorse products I personally use and believe are helpful.

Mom: A Simple Prayer for You

John Barry — Sun, 02 May 2010 15:00:00 -0700

My Mother is one of the primary reasons I am who I am, so in celebration of Mother's Day, let's take a short break from "The Infinite in Everything" to pray for our Moms. My Mom has been praying for me my whole life; now I have a prayer for her.

Mom: A Simple Prayer for You

Love Your Son

That you know you are as loved, as much as you love

That you see compassion, like the kind you offer

That you feel hospitality, like the generosity you practice

That you experience comfort, the way you comfort others

God, few people pray as much for others as my Mother

Lord, few individuals empower children like my Mom

Father, few people care for your creatures like my Mother

Jesus, few individuals live as much like you as my Mom

Spirit, few people bring your healing like my Mother

Holy Other, we know we can’t earn your love or grace,

And that what you give is free,

So this prayer is a quiet reminder about a gentle heart:

A simple prayer of thanksgiving,

And a simple request that my Mom would feel what she offers.

Simple—from us, to you: Thank you.

Forget Religion, We’re Spiritual (and Dying)

John Barry — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 09:33:40 -0700

LifeWay Research’s recent survey of 1,200 18- to 29-year-olds showed that 72% of them are “really more spiritual than religious.” Spirituality is good. But there’s a catch. (There always is).

“65% rarely or never pray with others, and 38% almost never pray by themselves either.” How can you be spiritual without prayer? I would argue that you can’t. We have to pray to reach the spiritual. Praying is certainly not the only way to be spiritual, but it is one of the primary ways we build relationship with God. “Living kindly” or “being one with ourselves” is not enough. That’s not spiritual; that’s humanitarian and egocentric. (Yes, you can be both a humanitarian and egocentric.) We have to commune with God to truly be spiritual. Otherwise, we are just being good humans. Being good humans is indeed good, but we can never be “good enough” to be accepted by God. We need Jesus. So how are we going to convince people to pray?

“65% rarely or never attend worship services.” What’s wrong with our church services? Are they dry? Sometimes. Are they boring? Sometimes. Are they just a big show? Sometimes. Someone searching for the spiritual should be able to find it in our churches—in our communities. If we are not demonstrating authentic community in our churches, we are missing the point of being the church entirely—being Jesus to our world. So I don’t think the problem is “them,” it’s “us.”

“67% don’t read the Bible or sacred texts.” To most people my age—yes, I am in this age group in case you couldn’t tell by my cute photo—the Bible is boring. To 18- to 29-year-olds, the Bible is this old thing that their grandfather, or worse, their parents, read. To this generation, the Bible seems full of genealogies, laws and odd stuff, like why not to boil goat’s milk (that’s really in the Bible). But the Bible is not the problem, it’s “us.” I am tired of us making excuses for biblical illiteracy. I am tired of people saying, “Well, they really should read their bibles more.” What are we going to do about it? It’s our problem too. We haven’t shown people why the Bible is fascinating and life-changing. If we don’t show them that, they won’t ever read it. If you ever wonder why I edit Bible Study Magazine, and why I am so passionate about showing people that the Bible is life-changing, this is why.

But how can people claim to be spiritual without God? In a world where “religion” has taken precedence over a relationship with God, seeking the spiritual without religious systems seems logical. My generation is saying: “Why deal with religion, when I can decide for myself? Why deal with religion, when I can ‘find myself’ without the church?” Seeking God without prayer, the Bible or the church is a waste of time, but what can we expect of people if we don’t show them another way? How can we show people the infinite God in everything, if we don’t demonstrate our relationship with Him?

Source: Cathy Lynn Grossman, "Survey: 72% of Millennials 'more spiritual than religious' "(USA Today).

How to Keep Getting Published: 10 Unpublished Rules

John Barry — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 06:00:00 -0700

"Don't be that guy" moments are the best kind to learn from. When editing and writing, I have been "that guy" in the "Don't be that guy” moments, and seen "that guy" in action. As a result, I have 10 unpublished rules for how to keep getting published—in slide show form. If you are out there publishing, or thinking about publishing, please consider these 10 unpublished rules. Also check out my “How to Get Published” slides for 10 more unpublished rules.

(We will be returning to our discussion of "The Infinite in Everything" next week.)

How to Get Published: 10 Unpublished Rules

John Barry — Wed, 14 Apr 2010 12:39:18 -0700

“How can I get published?” I regularly get asked this question. I have read incredible article pitches, and incredibly horrible article pitches. In return, I have a set of 10 unpublished rules. Some of my 10 unpublished rules are obvious, some are not. All are reminders to me that I can’t be oblivious to an editor’s needs when emailing them.

Remember, I was once unpublished. And if you really want it, someone will publish something by you too. We all start by being unpublished.

My first publication was not my magnus opus. It was just a creative take on something everyone knew intuitively, but few scholars were bold (or naïve) enough to say. (I caught a bit of scholastic flack for it, because I was daring enough to offend dead people who wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls. Scholars get mad about all kinds of stuff.) The article was called “Early Evidence of Subjective Interpretation in the Pesharim of Qumran.” Yep, that was the title, and someone published it. Did it have original ideas? Yes. Did I think it was good, and did they? Well, of course. But who were “they”? They were a niche French publication out of a Canadian university, who published my article as the only English article in their academic journal. How many people read it? Probably five, not including my family and friends. But it mattered. Why? Because from that point forward I was published, and my career officially began. Now, I am the Editor-in-Chief of Bible Study Magazine, the author of a forthcoming coming book called The Resurrected Servant in Isaiah, and have published (or have forthcoming) over 50 articles.

So, check out my slides on how to get published. If you heed these 10 unpublished rules, and are creative, I bet you will get published too.

(By the way, we will start discussing "The Infinite in Everything" again next week.)