Christian

Confessions of a Worldwide Spiritual Mutt

bo.white — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 11:39:41 -0700

Recently, someone asked me to outline my faith journey. In a sense, I am grateful for the question because usually it’s asked in a static manner such as ‘when did you ask Jesus in your heart?’ to which I don’t honestly remember (which disappoints those anticipating a time and date). The idea of an outline, though, smacks of highlights and turning points and those are things I do actually remember. Yet, as I reflected on my own outline, I kind of smiled at how this was also going to be a bit difficult for some to swallow. But, I took a deep breath anyway and said something akin to the following:

Growing up outside the church, I was sort of turned on to the sacred elements prior to knowing what they meant. I loved reading the Bible, but I also devoured Greek mythology, poetry, and all kinds of stories with a point. Shirley Jackson’s Lottery, for example, was haunting and I remember being really moved by Romantic (Wordsworth, Byron, Coleridge) poetry. I went to a Reformed church in high school and was baptized as a teenager. Upon entering college, though, I went to a Reformed church my Freshman year (and was mentored by a female pastor named Jill), but attended a Catholic campus ministry my first two years and met periodically with a priest. In fact, to this day, I miss the practice of sitting with a trusted advisor and practicing confession. Evangelicals stink at this.

My junior year in college, I attended an Anglican church in London, England, and it’s there where I was impacted greatly by solid Bible teaching and shaped by participation in a small group. In this group, we met weekly, but I was the only American. Our leader was English, but a transplant from the Caribbean; he was African American and brilliant. Three women were English, a young man was English, and then one man from Africa, and another from Singapore rounded out the group. So, immediately, my relatively new Christian faith was formed in a group overseas without an American at the head of the table. Since this was my first real serious run at Bible study on my own, I believe this group still influences my thinking a bit in unconscious ways. While living in England, I accepted an opportunity to teach English in China for the summer, so I attended an Anglican church in Hong Kong the rest of the summer. In China, I was able to visit Buddhist temples with new friends as well and ask all sorts of questions.

After college and after the death of my grandfathers and divorce of my parents, I ended up at a Presbyterian seminary in St. Louis, attending a Presbyterian church, but also secretly sneaking off to Evensong once a month at the Episcopal church, partly for the music, partly for the free sherry afterwards in the fellowship hall. Since then, I have served Presbyterian churches and interdenominational non-profits with trips to Sweden, Scotland, Russia, East Africa, and South America all with a variety of mission groups and ministry teams.

My father and stepmother attend a Lutheran church (Missouri-Synod), my mother attends a Reformed church, and my stepfather is Roman Catholic. I cherish my time at L’abri fellowship in England as well and have also been impacted by a prayer retreat with Episcopal Spiritual Directors at San Francisco Seminary, a class on prayer through Regent College in Vancouver, the work of TrueFaced, and mentoring relationships through World Harvest Mission.

So, no, I don’t remember the day of Jesus entering my heart, like some people do, but I remember the message of grace, a world bigger than me, and many strikingly beautiful people along the way who held me on bad days and who told me to tag along when they were handing out cups of cold water.

-bo

I Can't Think Of A Better Word, Sorry

Chuck Bomar — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 12:04:58 -0800

In a world where Christians, in the name of holiness, arrogantly distance themselves from everything "secular"......and like the Pharisees, can't figure out what it means to be "in" the world but not "of" it........

In a world where Christians, in the name of holiness, arrogantly stand back and bash non-Christians for living like, well, non-Christians......

We need to check these actions and attitudes with the scriptures. I have a word I sometimes use to describe this type of activity. But I want to warn you, this could be bad. I only use this word in conversations where people know my heart and theological convictions. Posting it publicly like this could get me in trouble. I don't mean to be rash by using this word, but I honestly cannot think of one that better describes this type of activity by the very people that are supposed to be following the example of Christ.

Before I say the word, let me (very briefly) explain why I don't think the attitude toward non-Christians I explained at the top is appropriate. Paul clearly states that it's not the right of a Christian to judge outsiders - we are not they're judge, God is (1 Corinthians 5:12-13). We clearly cannot expect non-Christians to live in God-honoring ways. We are in a broken world. We don't have to publicly condemn their actions to prove they are wrong or to make sure we're not viewed as condoning them. In fact, Peter states that we are to simply continue doing good when others do wrong and by this alone their foolishness would be silenced (in other words, we don't need words). He says to treat everyone with respect and honor - even those that are unjust and to even honor an emperor that was killing Christians at the time (1Peter 2:13-18). We are told that this graciousness is being mindful of God (2:19). And, he points back to Christ as the example of these things in the verses that follow.

Instead of following this example, however, we have people publicly standing out against wrong with only words, picketing, arrogantly standing back.....not doing good and respectfully honoring all people, but instead speaking against them and their actions.

But what Paul and Peter are saying gives a completely different perspective of what Christ followers should be doing. It's very different than arrogantly separating from or publicly bashing everyone that is doing wrong or opposing God in their actions. Christians are doing both of these things in the name of "holiness." But they're not holy. They're actually (oh boy, here's the word) "ass-holy."

I told you. I don’t mean to be rash, but I honestly can't think of another word that better fits this attitude. Jesus did bash people.....but if you read the gospels it was the people that I described above that he spoke up against. I think we should take that into consideration before we outwardly and publicly bash non-Christians....in the name of holiness. Jesus treated these people very differently. He hung out with those "secular" people. He actually ate and reclined with them. He didn't arrogantly separate, nor did he flip their tables over. He lived among them and served them. He didn't have to constantly point out their wrongdoings. Yes, he confronted people in their sin. But it was with humble connection, not arrogant separation. He gave us an example of what it means to live in the name of holiness. I think we should get that straight and be careful of our ass-holy attitudes.

Oh, if we would actually follow Christ's example and actually be known for our holiness in our every day lives, in our humility, in our heart for people to be reconciled......

Rethinking "Celebrity"

Manuel Luz — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 10:38:41 -0800

I mentioned in a previous blog about the pursuit of fame and fortune that drove me in my younger days. In what I now refer to as “my rock and roll dream,” the long-term plan was to work as an engineer by day and a musician by night, writing and recording my material while getting exposure and experience in the local club scene. It would only be a matter of time until I would record the killer demo, move down to LA, recruit some monster musicians, and launch my career. From there, it would simply be a short limo trip to fame and fortune.

Of course, that didn’t happen, for a lot of reasons—talent, marketability, maturity, circumstance, and the Small Still Voice that invited me into a better way of life.

I look back at the me who once was, and I see a guy who was driven by internal needs he was not in touch with—affirmation, acceptance, expression, love. So much of what I did then was to gain the favor of people. I wanted people to like me, accept me, approve of me, love me. And I mistakenly thought that fame would bring these things into my life.

I think this is normal, though ultimately unhealthy. I meet young people all the time whose healthy desire to express the arts are aimed squarely at the unhealthy goal of fame and fortune. Often I find myself biting my tongue, wishing that they could understand now what only time and experience can teach them.

For myself, I gradually came to realize that there were really only a handful of people in the entire world for whom their opinion really mattered to me—my parents, my wife, my closest friends. The accolades of everyone else—especially those I didn’t know—could never replace the unconditional love of those who were already in my life, and who already had given me that love. So I was really striving for nothing.

I say this because some of you know that my son has begun a modeling career. He is signed with Wilhelmina Models, and is currently in Singapore modeling for a variety of customers. While his career is still in the fledgling stage, he’s already slated for the cover of Men's Health Magazine (Singapore edition), some runway work for Gucci, and he did a photo shoot with Lea Michele (Rachel on Glee), among other sillier things (auditions for Old Navy, Target, etc.).

The other day, in a moment of introspection, he emailed me this observation: “I’m beginning to realize more and more that modeling, and even ‘celebrity-ism,’ are for those who have no real friends or loved ones.” And while that statement is a little too absolute, I think I understand what he’s trying to say, and beginning to understand. Our motivations for fame and fortune are driven by the deepest of our human needs—to simply be loved without condition.

Of course, as followers of Jesus Christ, we understand that this human need is only truly fulfilled through our relationship with our Triune God. We ultimately desire the affirmation and approval of our Abba Father, the friendship and Lordship of Jesus, and the intimacy of the Holy Spirit. We deeply need to be in community with others and with God. That’s just how God made us.

I’m truly proud of my son. Not just because he is finding success in the things he is striving for, but more so because of the person he is becoming in the process. And I think that’s the point.

[Note: Photo of me with Axl Rose compliments of faceinhole.com.]

Meeting Urgent Needs - no strings attached

Chuck Bomar — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 10:04:46 -0700

On Saturday we put on a free clinic for under-insured people. There were over 1000 people that showed up. Appointments started at 8am, but the line began way before that! When we opened the doors, the energy was amazing! So fun to be able to bring a hot cup of coffee to these people and just hear why they came. We had to completely transform a high school to make everything happen (picture of one of 3 dental rooms on right), but by doing so we were able to offer:

Medical examinations (including X-rays and free prescriptions)
Dental Work (cleaning, extractions, fillings – also included X-rays)
Vision Testing (including free eye glasses to anyone in need)
Podiatry (foot care)
Immunizations (gave out over 600 shots)
Lunch (hamburgers, hot dogs, turkey sandwiches, pizza)

It really was amazing. Our social service fair and all-day childcare proved to be a huge success too. But it wasn’t just about the one day event. We followed up with every person at the clinic to take careful note of any of their ongoing needs. We met their urgent needs (Titus 3:14), but we knew there was much more. So, we took all of those needs and placed them on a brand new website we developed for this type of thing. Now there is a way for Christians to follow up and make more sustainable relational connections with the people that showed up to get served. If you want to check out this site, it’s: www.iampeople.org. We are in the very beginning stages of this and plan on continuing to develop the functionality and breadth of what we can do through this site. But you might want to consider using it for your community as well….it’s also free to use.

Thinking About Global Poverty While In Church

bo.white — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 00:00:00 -0700

Any effort to end poverty will take significant human resources and an adequate strategy to engage people to not only seek change, but become change agents. As a faith based non-profit with Christian convictions, the Bible guides our strategy to mobilize people and the Bible is a book primarily about relationships. The Bible itself says much on stewardship, but clearly it is not an economics text. The Bible has much to say about mobilizing people, but clearly it’s not an HR manual.

So, at the core of mobilizing people is the gospel itself as the key motivator. People mobilized by guilt or gratitude will not last as we are flawed human beings and our guilt often paralyzes us and our gratitude ebbs and flows. This document is meant to spur on a discussion about how we mobilize people that is gospel centered and that effectively erects a small army to end poverty worldwide.

I use the phrase ‘small army’ with some intention. Living in the United States, our propensity often gravitates toward the largest, biggest, and most dynamic. We are so easily allured by huge numbers, huge possibility, and we consistently want to talk about ‘thousands and tens of thousands’ (see also the chants of the crowds as they compared Saul and David). We want the crowds to say, ‘that organization served thousands, but our organization has served tens of thousands."

I want to say that that posture isn’t Biblical. It’s a chant from the crowds that is historical and certainly not taught by Christ or the apostles as gospel centered. We don’t glory in numbers or in the praise bestowed upon us by others or even ourselves (the gospel itself should indict/inform many of our own marketing practices).

The phrase ‘small army’ recalls the stories of Gideon and of a band of twelve disciples. Small groups of people who are outnumbered, outmatched, and yet, the God of all grace, not only delivers them, but there is what I like to call Collateral Blessing. In much the same way that full scale war has Collateral Damage, a full scale gospel movement will have Collateral Blessing. There will be unintended, God purposed, blessing when there is a gospel centered group of people who relate well to each other, who support each other, and who seek to complement one another, all the while understanding that they are outmatched and outnumbered.

The scope of issues like global poverty, HIV/AIDS, chronic hunger, corrupt governance, and natural disasters quickly remind us that we are outmatched and outnumbered in this battle. The numbers are simply staggering. Hundreds of millions have no access to clean water, two billion live on less than two dollars a day, millions have AIDS, and these statistics can go on. And yet, God doesn’t call us to mobilize millions, God calls us to make disciples and that will take time. Can you see the God centered approach that frustrates our humanity? There is great urgency in the task, yet we are called to hurry up and walk. We must urgently make disciples, which will take years. We are not called to mobilize tens of thousands, but we are called to faithfully love those in our midst well. In fact, the gospel indicts us. If we don’t love our neighbor (whether it’s the co-worker or supervisor) well, we cannot presume or assume blessing. We can expect, on the contrary, more challenges because Christ calls us to a life of repentance and faith.

The rhythm of ending poverty follows the same pattern as the life Jesus call us to: namely, we repent of our contribution to poverty, and we follow Christ in seeking to end it, trusting not in our ability or ingenuity, but in His ways, His truth, and His life.

-bo

What I Didn't Learn About Manhood From Esquire

Nick Bogardus — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 13:08:20 -0700

[This originally appeared on the Mars Hill Church blog]

I was originally assigned the task of looking at advice on how to be a man from a men’s magazine. Problem is, there wasn't any.

Esquire's June/July 2010 issue was called How to Be a Man. Appropriate. With a title that declarative and a tagline of “Man at His Best,” I was anxious to comb through it to see what they had to say about manhood. With a base circulation of 700,000 and competition like GQ, Maxim, and Details, Esquire is arguably one of the largest and most influential men’s magazines in the world. They've got to know what they're talking about, right? Esquire’s website describes their audience as "the affluent and successful man." Should be exactly what I'm shooting for here.

With Irony As Our Guide

Here’s the twist – and I’m putting it up front because that’s where I found it in the magazine – according to Esquire, you can’t define manhood or what it means to be a man. Here’s what the Editor-In-Chief wrote in his introduction to the issue:

There are no guides to manhood. Not really. We try on selves – constantly. We see traits exhibited by other men and we emulate them. We learn by example and trial. We keep trying. Those of us who’ve had fathers who were engaged in our lives always measure ourselves by them…Those of us – like our cover subject – whose fathers were absent develop in reaction to that absence and either triumph or collapse, or both. [Manhood is] a huge topic, impossible to be definitive about, and not all our advice will work. But look, we men are always gonna do stupid stuff. It’s who we are, and how we learn.

So, 20 pages in, and we're already told that the thing this issue sets out to be, a guide for manhood, cannot exist. The trouble is, if you don't define something, you certainly can’t issue a guide of how to do it, and so we’re left with the orphans running the orphanage. More precisely, the magazine is left with manhood being defined by what you individually consume, from clothes to technology to women.

The Blind Leading the Blind

Nonetheless, they proceed (boldly or foolishly, I don't know) to fill the pages of the guide-that-isn't-a-guide on manhood with the following:

Pg. 50: An essay about making more money instead of saving it, based on this explanation: “When I’m on my deathbed, I want to look back on a life of struggle and jihad. And I want my kids to know what work is.”
Pg. 52: Threesome etiquette.
Pg. 54: An answer to the question, “I heard a rumor long ago that if you simultaneously flushed all the toilets in a large public building, like a school, the plumbing would fail or burst under the pressure. True?”
Pp. 57-72: "The qualities we appreciate most in the places where we drink.” Basically, a 15-page bar guide.
Pp. 77-78: The essential $2,000 blazer and suits.
Pp. 87-88: An essay about our culture’s current infatuation with the ’80s in entertainment that ends with a call for responsibility to ensure that the next decade doesn’t end up with the same greed and phoniness.
Pp. 90-92: Car of the Year nominees.
Pp. 94-102: A story about ex-Congressman Eric Massa, who, according to the story, was brought down by clumsily trying to manipulate the media for his own gain. He comes across as bumbling and shameless. (How does this fit into the original "How to be a Man" theme? Maybe "How Not to be a Man"?)
Pg. 107: Two good questions – greatest example of someone stepping up as a man and what you’d wish you’d known at 18 – followed by three mediocre, 100-word answers.
Pp. 109-115: The cover story on Tom Cruise. According to the story, Tom was raised by a single mother and the main lesson he learned from his father was formulated in a question Tom asked himself when his father was on his deathbed, How can I not be that guy? Most of the lessons Cruise shares come from that lesson/question and are generally nice, but nothing pointed.
Pp. 116-125: "The Vital Organs: A guide to keeping your brain, heart, and balls healthy."
Pp. 127-129: "How to Raise Men." I had some hope for this article but, again, it contains more reflections on raising sons, where the writer explains why certain male traits are either overrated or underrated: tribalism and insolence (underrated), drive and optimism (overrated), etc. Ultimately it’s an entertaining article and you can tell the writer loves his sons and wants to do his best, but it's hard to see how someone can leave the article and understand how to raise men better.
Pg. 130: An installment of Esquire's trademark series, "What I’ve Learned," this time, with Jon Favreau. Most of it was banal life lessons like “It's the struggle that makes you who you are” and “You have to create the quiet to be able to listen to the very faint voice of your intuition,” or random observations like “Kids don’t want to be guitar players anymore. They want to be DJs,” and “You tend to gravitate to the things you grew up with.”
Pp. 133-137: A story about Shaq. Shaq talks about himself in the third person and says this about his ex-wife producing a show for VH1 called Basketball Wives, “It's all marketing. All marketing for me. It keeps my name out there. I like it.”
Pp. 150-153: "How a Man Ages…Or Should." Again, hoping I’ll get some tips on being man, I’m left with information about what I should be consuming during different decades of my life: men should graduate from Grand Theft Auto to Call of Duty at 24, from ordering what everyone else is having to a gin martini at 26, from renting to owning a tux at 27, and from ogling much younger women to ogling slightly older but still incredibly hot women at 53.
Pg. 170: "15 Things Not To Do Before You Die." #3. Bunt in softball. #4. Start a fan club for yourself on Facebook. Noted.

One hundred and seventy pages later, I don’t know how to be a man. I learned some general life lessons and heard some nice stories about Tom Cruise and A.J. Jacobs' kids, but I haven’t left the How to be a Man issue with any tangible instruction as to how to be a better man, let alone a better husband or father.

Misguided Guys

The truth is, as Granger pointed out at the beginning the issue, culture has ceased being able to define manhood, which makes creating a guide for it, well, misguided.

But the thing is, the fact that they would nevertheless promote the issue as a guide is revealing. Beneath culture’s ambiguity, men’s questions still lie tangled in video game controllers, bar tabs, and browser tabs of porn. As Esquire knows, men are built to learn and share knowledge. The problem is - as this issue illustrates clearly - if men go to the culture for the answer to the question of manhood, the answer is geared around consumption. Moreover, if there is no instruction, and young men aren't learning from older men, there is no accumulated knowledge or collective wisdom, and each man is left to fend for himself, making the avoidable mistakes thousands of men have made before him, as he tries to define a hyper-relative sense of masculinity. The How to Be a Man issue is a harrowing example of that.

The rise of the Omega Male is the culmination of years, maybe decades, of unanswered questions. It only makes sense that if a question goes unanswered for long enough, people will stop asking or caring.

Go Boldly – with Wisdom – to Jesus

Mark Driscoll put it well when he said that men need to know who they’re to protect, who they’re to defend, what truth is, what righteousness is, and what justice is. These are questions that resonate with every man and that God answers from the beginning of the Bible to the end, from the Garden of Eden in Genesis to the wedding feast in Revelation.

It takes a certain boldness to want to ask and answer those questions because their answers are costly, and it's not just a desire for sentences in the imperative. A man isn't going to be able to base his life on what he can buy with a credit card. For those of you brave enough to be asking the question of what it means to be a man, and selfless enough to commit to pursuing that, let’s look at what one passage says about Jesus.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Philippians 2:5-8

Jesus was in authority as part of the Trinitarian God but submitted to the authority of the Father and was obedient in coming to earth to take responsibility for the sin of His bride, the Church. Those four verses are but a glimpse of what truth, righteousness, justice, defending, and protecting look like. While our culture remains largely silent on the topic, we need more men to look to Jesus (cf: 1:25) and the Bible for answers to the question of what it means to be a man. For more on masculinity, as based on identity in Christ and not Call of Duty, check out these sermon series from the Mars Hill media library:

Reframing "The Creativity Crisis"

Manuel Luz — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 12:17:49 -0700

The most recent edition of Newsweek Magazine is bannered with the title, "The Creativity Crisis." The feature article describes a scientifically measured decline in the collective CQ (creativity quotient) of American children and adults. According to the article, "With intelligence, there is a phenomenon called the Flynn effect—each generation, scores go up about 10 points. Enriched environments are making kids smarter. With creativity, a reverse trend has just been identified and is being reported for the first time here: American creativity scores are falling."

The article goes on to describe the necessity of human creativity, an "undisputed" need that goes far beyond the artistic connection—it affects our ability to sustain economic growth, to deliver health care, to even bring peace to Afghanistan. Creativity is a valued attribute, and yet, the United States' collective creativity is declining.

The article states, "It’s too early to determine conclusively why U.S. creativity scores are declining. One likely culprit is the number of hours kids now spend in front of the TV and playing video games rather than engaging in creative activities. Another is the lack of creativity development in our schools. In effect, it’s left to the luck of the draw who becomes creative: there’s no concerted effort to nurture the creativity of all children."

And all this got me thinking. Is creativity a value in the American Christian Church?

I guess the short answer is yes...and no. Yes, there are areas where creativity is encouraged and rewarded. Writing sermons, composing worship music, and...well, I guess that's about it. There are pockets of artistic creativity in the Christian subculture—drama, film, books, and quilting bees, to name a few. But I guess creativity doesn't really rate as one of the official fruits of the spirit. And that's what makes this all a bit confusing.

Creativity—defined as "the ability to use the imagination to develop new and original ideas or things, especially in an artistic context"—is one aspect of free will, the ability God gave humans to choose the course of our own lives separate from His ability to override these choices. So it is one characteristic of what it means to be made in the image of God, who is the infinitely Creative One.

From a calling perspective, human creativity is a part of the cultural mandate—to be fruitful and multiply, to care for and steward the earth, and even to form, create, and imagine. (Genesis 1:26-28, 2:19-20). God gave us imagination and creative abilities so that we could plant, build, invent, organize, and do the things necessary to properly steward the world. In short, God makes us creative beings, and then He calls us to be creative. And finally, He allows us to experience joy through the act of creation, one other attribute of what it is to be made in His image.

Perhaps those of us who consider ourselves Christ followers need to understand the God-given gift of creativity in all its forms, whether we are engineers, scientists, teachers, artists, or stay-at-home moms. We need to see creativity as an act that inherently gives glory to God. Perhaps those of us in the church need to develop our theologies a bit more, so that we might value creativity and allow it to flourish in the church. Perhaps we might re-imagine the church as a place where creativity is seen as an act of Christ-likeness. And perhaps we need to understand that our God is the Eternally Creative One, who is eternally joyful in the acts of His creation, One who feels joy even when He sees the acts of creation expressed by you and I, His Children.

Or perhaps I'm just imagining things.

How Many Lead Singers Does It Take to Change a Light Bulb?

Manuel Luz — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 11:46:34 -0800

How many lead singers does it take to change a light bulb?

One. The lead singer holds the bulb, and the world revolves around him.

Recently, I was talking to someone new to the Christian faith. Which is also to say that he is new to the evangelical Christian subculture. He knew that I was a worship and arts pastor, and so our conversation eventually drifted to the weekend services at his church. In the conversation, he said something that jolted me momentarily. He referred to the person leading worship at his church as the “lead singer for the band.”

At first I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he was a new Christ follower, and without a Christian background to give you a frame of reference, the obvious equivalent phrase to “worship leader” is “lead singer.”

But that got me thinking. What was his experience of his church service? Was he experiencing worship? That is, was he being led to an encounter with the Living Triune God, and responding to that encounter in a transcendent way? And if so, what was the role of the “worship leader” in the actual “leading” of worship?

My friend was experiencing some really good music in his services. And the truth of the matter is, music and all the arts are transcendent by nature. The arts take us someplace, spiritually as well as emotionally. Art is, as Jeremy Begbie asserts, “capable of affording genuine knowledge of reality beyond the confines of human self-consciousness.” Just go to a rock concert and watch. People are being ushered somewhere. The question is, to where are they being moved?

In my experience, I’ve been a lead singer for a number of bands. I know what the role entails, and what is expected of it. And I don't see anything wrong with being one. But I shudder to think that some people might experience me as a “lead singer” when my role and calling and obligation in church is to be a “worship leader,” to serve my congregation and lead them to encounter and glorify God.

A. W. Tozer tells a story that goes like this: Jesus fulfilled scripture when he rode a young donkey into Jerusalem (John 12:12-16). The great crowds came to meet him, taking palm branches and spreading them out before him, praising his name, shouting “Hosanna! Hosanna!” The donkey, looking around at the crowd, then thought to himself, “Wow! I must really be great!”

In the grand scheme of things, I have to remember that as a worship leader, I’m just the donkey. And there’s a big difference between a donkey and a jackass.

More about this in my next blog. Please feel free to comment.

A Mother's Smile

Manuel Luz — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 08:19:14 -0800

A little boy turns to his mother and says, "Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a musician!"

The mother looks back at her child with concern and replies, "But honey, you can't do both."

I was told by my Mom that I had always wanted to play the piano, even as a toddler. If there was a spinet in the room, I would inevitably be found scaling it, like a mountain climber ascending the shear face of a mountain, looking for a foothold or outcropping, daring gravity to grasp a handful of ivory above me. It got to the point that my parents decided to get me piano lessons—at the age of "almost five." By the time I was eleven years old or so, six years of piano lessons on our family's old mahogany upright had convinced me of my life calling: I wanted to be a classical pianist.

Encouragement is a good thing. It seemed that every week or so, I would hear Mom calling me from the living room with that familiar request: "Manny, come here! Play something for your Auntie!" Friends and acquaintances of my parents (everyone is called "uncle" or "auntie" when you grow up in a Filipino household) would be suddenly barraged with a smattering of Mozart and Beethoven and Bach. My Mom and Dad would smile approvingly, our guests would nod politely, and my little brown fingers would start flying around the key of G. I remember finding her requests a little embarrassing and certainly inconvenient. Little boys would rather be outside playing ball or watching TV. Little did I know that these impromptu living room concerts became the training ground for my future life as a professional musician.

Fast forward to the last few years. My Father had passed, and my Mom was now in her eighties, with health issues and more than a touch of dementia. In addition to her failing memory and reason, a stroke had taken away her ability to speak to us. She was living with my brother and family, and I would visit her periodically and stay at a nearby hotel which conveniently had a baby grand in their lobby. My brother didn't have a piano, so I would drive her to the hotel and wheel her into the lobby where I would visit with her and play the piano for her—Jazz standards, some soft rock, a Filipino love song she knew.

Occasionally, there would be a sparkle in her eyes as she leaned forward ever so slightly, her head tilted just so. And that was always good to see. Most of our communication in her last days was non-verbal, so when I played for her, it was more than just a song. I played for her because it put a smile on her face, and I wanted to see her smile again. I played for her because I wanted her to know that I appreciated all that she had done for me. I played for her because I wanted her to know that her encouragement made a difference. I played for her as a simple act of love.

Mom passed away this month, at the age of 86. And I miss her.

Simons in the Pews

Manuel Luz — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 22:41:44 -0800

Hair fashionably mussed, a soul patch beneath his lower lip, the Singer steps onto the small stage and eyes the small audience seated before him. A man in a dark T-shirt impatiently eyes the Singer. Pen fidgeting in his mouth, he inquires tersely, "Okay, what do you have for us today?"

The Singer takes a deep breath before answering. "Well, I'd like to start out with 'Not to Us' by Chris Tomlin."

"Okay," the man responds without emotion. "Good luck."

Apprehensive, jittery, nonplused, the Singer takes a step forward. And with all that he has, and all that he is, he opens his mouth. And sings.

"Not to us, but to Your name be the glory," he proclaims. "Not to us, but to Your name..." he repeats, each time with greater conviction. The certainty of his beliefs seem to steady his voice, and he digs into the phrase deeper. Taking a deep breath, he readies himself for the first verse.

"I'm sorry," another man in the group interrupts bluntly. "I think I've heard enough."

"You have a very nice voice," the woman beside him advances, trying not to sound condescending. "And I really like your look. But I'm afraid it's...well, it's just not good enough."

"Yes, thank you very much," the first man concludes. The verdict is sudden and final. The group will not be listening to the Singer any more.

No, this isn't a scene from American Idol. This is a scene from a typical Sunday morning worship experience. Every Sunday, our increasingly consumeristic congregations take their specific wants and desires and preferences into church services and rate them: Song selection, quality of the worship leader's voice, how loud or how fast the songs are, how much the band rocked, even the appearance of the worship leader. Our congregations have become Simons (as in Simon Cowell) in the pews.

And that consumeristic mindset spills into the entire Sunday experience: how big (or small) the church is, the length and content of the sermon, how many people greeted them that morning, what ministries does the church offer, how long the service lasts. And in their self-evaluations, they ask the "me" questions: Do I like this? Does this meet my needs? Does this make me happy?

They have bought into the lie that the church—the bride of Christ and the hope of the world—is simply a purveyer of religious goods and services. And as it is for all good consumers, it is our right to have our needs met, even as it relates to the things of God. And so they vote, mostly with their attendance, but also with their giving, and in other ways as well.

The biggest problem in my mind is not that people take their highly-honed and highly-personal consumeristic expectations and apply them to the church. It is that they do this—and they don't see anything wrong with it. They have forgotten that to be a Christian is not to be a consumer, but to be a disciple. And the two are diametrically opposed in so many ways.

As a worship leader and pastor, I find that our Simonized culture becomes an increasing distraction on a Sunday morning. And because of that, we as church leaders must strongly resist the ever-increasing forces that prompt us to feed the Simons in our pews.

I don't see my job as pleasing people; it is helping people please God. My job is not to compete with the church down the street; it is to unite with them to make a difference in our community. My job is not to meet people's consumeristic desires, but to call people to be disciples of Christ—you know, to love your neighbor, to put others before yourself, to live in a such a way that one's preferences are merely interesting diversions on the way toward dying to self.

I meet regularly with a group of worship pastors and leaders in my local area. (If you are a worship leader, I strongly urge you to start meeting regularly with your local peers.) We share ideas, pray for one another, try to help one another through the various struggles of doing ministry in the twenty-first century. I take no delight in knowing that my church is larger than my friend's church down the street. I get no pleasure in knowing that our congregants church shop among us. But I do delight in seeing the church act like the Church, in worship and ministry and life.

Do you have something to add? Please let me know about it.