Neighborhood Easter Egg Hunts

For the past few months our church has been thinking through our responsibility to be "good neighbors." It's been a part of our church DNA for the last 50 years (McKinney was "missional" before "missional" was cool), but is something we have been re-emphasizing recently.

One of the outflows of that conversation was an opportunity our Children's Ministry Team initiated for families to host Neighborhood Easter egg hunts. We offered kits with invitations, instructions, and some supplies to anyone from our church who was interested in hosting a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. Over the past weekend, we had neighborhood Easter egg hunts in 25 different neighborhoods across Fort Worth.

Several things I love about the idea Nita and her team came up with:


  1. It gave people a chance to begin relationships with their neighbors with a low-risk, easy first step.
  2. It wasn't a bait-and-switch. We didn't fill eggs with tracts or church propaganda in lieu of candy, or force people to sit through a Bible study before they could hunt eggs. 
  3. There was enough flexibility for neighborhoods to adopt the idea to fit their context. The Children's Ministry team gave enough instructions to be helpful, but not so many that the hosts were handcuffed. 
  4. It provided the context for relationship with a neighbor, which was our initial goal. Our ultimate goal is to see neighbors who don't know Jesus introduced to Jesus through an intentional relationship with neighbors who love them. 
  5. It wasn't about McKinney Church. We weren't trying to find a roundabout way to invite people to McKinney Church. We were inviting them to an Easter Egg hunt and then into relationship with their neighbors. Our desire is that that will lead to an invitation to know Jesus. The invitation to McKinney Church will be the natural outcome of that process at various places in the process. But we didn't want to confuse the invitation. If people respond to an invitation to trust Christ and decide to connect with the church down the street, we're okay with that and wanted to make sure our invitations didn't confuse that. 
Stories have already begun pouring in. Now we're looking for something similar to do this Summer. I'd like to see our people engaged in 100 neighborhoods by next Easter. 

Newcomers

From time to time (or maybe every week), new people darken the doors of your church. Some of them haven't ever been in a church before; some of them haven't ever been in the church you attend before. Either way, the way you refer to them matters. Language is important.

"Visitors" are just passing through. You never expect visitors to stay long; they're only visiting. You "visit" a place, and then leave. Sometimes you come back, but even then it's only usually as a visitor. Visitors are nameless, faceless people; clients, customers.

"Guests" hold an honored place. They may be strangers, but they're welcome because they're invited. We invite guests in order to deepen our relationship with them - it's why we have guests in our home or guests in our business - we want to strengthen our relationship. It's what we expect from their visit.

Before we talk about "visitors," we would do well to ask ourselves if that's really all we want them to be.

Passing By

Last Sunday Manny Fernandez, one of McKinney's mission partners, spoke during our main service. He talked about the two storms Jesus' followers faced with Jesus and pointed out something I hadn't ever seen before.

In the familiar story about Jesus walking on the water in Mark 6, where the guys have just witnessed Jesus feeding more than 5000 people. It's obvious from their constant arguing about bread (Mark 6:30-44; Mark 8:1-13; Mark 8:14-21) that they don't really understand who Jesus is. They understand he's a miracle worker, but they don't "get it" that He's the God of the Universe.

He forces them to get in the boat and runs the crowd off, and then goes to pray. He sees (Mark 6:48) the disciples straining - in their own power, with their own strength, and their own effort - to row the boat against the current. But they're about to be overpowered by the wind.

In fact, there was an old sailor's tale that the Phantom of the Deep would appear to sailors right before they "swam with the fishes." When Jesus comes walking on the water, the seasoned fishermen think He's the Phantom of the Deep, and they're about to die. They're straining against a sinking ship.

And Mark says, "Jesus was going to pass by" (Mark 10:48). Doesn't that seem awfully insensitive of Jesus, like He's taunting the disciples as he passes by them and waves?

Here's what Manny pointed out. Think about a couple of other times when God-followers worked hard in their strength and were ready to give up and hit "reset" on the whole thing. Moses got there in Exodus 33, worn out from leading the people by himself and desperate for someone to help him. Elijah got there too in 1 Kings 19, worn out from running from Jezebel and defeating the prophets of Baal.

In both those cases, these leaders, worn out from straining, begged God to reveal Himself. And in both cases, God "passed by them." He revealed Himself in such a way that there was no mistaking, no wondering, no denying that they had been graced by the presence of the Lord God.

Is it possible that Jesus was about to provide something to these disciples? Is it possible he was "passing by" them in the sense that he was about to reveal Himself in a way that far exceeded their temporary circumstance? Possible that they were about to get a revelation of Jesus that compared to the revelation received by Moses and Elijah?

If so, Mark 8 is a great reminder for people who follow Christ - even more important than seeking temporary relief from life's greatest storms, we ought to be on the lookout for God to pass by. God tends to reveal His character most clearly in times when we are primed to see it. In those cases, in the middle of the storm, the best thing Jesus could do is pass right by.

Thoughts and Buffets

Puritan theologian John Ryland wrote:


"Next to the regulation of the appetites and passions, the most important branch of self-government is the command of our thoughts: which without a strict guard will be as apt to ramble, as the other to rebel."


People who know me well know that I can't be trusted at a pizza buffet. Unless I've been really disciplined in my exercise regimen or am not planning to eat for 3 weeks, pizza buffets exhaust me because they take all the self-control I can muster. It's hard to regulate appetites and passions.

It's also tough to regulate our thoughts. Most of us know that and work hard to keep our thought life from rebelling. Men in particular, unless they're fools, take special precaution to guard their thoughts from rebellion.

But how many of us go to equal lengths to keep our thoughts from rambling? We seem to think it's a lesser sin to waste our thoughts than it is to abuse them by thinking about the wrong things. According to Ryle, either end of the spectrum is poor stewardship.

We should discipline ourselves, not only to not think about the wrong things; we should discipline ourselves to dwell and focus on the right things.

Stories and Relativism

Someone recently introduced me to Daniel Taylor, a professor of literature and writing at Bethel University in Minnesota, and expert on "stories." He spoke at the Desiring God conference for John Piper in 2008.

I just started his book "Tell Me a Story: The Life-Shaping Power of Our Stories," and watched his lecture above. So far, it's great stuff.

One of Taylor's stellar points right off the bat in "Tell Me a Story" is with regard to stories and relativism. Postmodern/relativistic  thought often argues that "My story is my story; my truth is my truth; your truth is your truth and shouldn't judge my story."

I love what Taylor says about relativism: "Such an attitude encourages us to be spectators rather than characters. It cuts the link between my story and your story. Story rejects that severance. It recognizes that our stories are interwoven. We cannot live our story alone because we are characters in each other's stories. What you do is part of my story; what I do is part of yours. Such an awareness encourages shared understandings and shared commitments that are central to a meaningful contented life."

Encore Anxiety

Psychologists who study high-achievers across fields have a dysfunction they call "encore anxiety." Most high-achieving artists and professionals suffer from it.

In fields where a person is rewarded (either tangibly or intangibly) by their performance, high-performers quickly and easily begin to attach their identity to their performance. Why shouldn't they? Everyone else attaches their identity to their performance.

The result that these high-performing individuals feel like every "performance" has to be as good or better than the last.

This quarter has to show higher earnings than last quarter. The applause at the end of this performance should go as long or longer. Sales numbers should top last month's  numbers. The reviews in the paper should believe my last performance was my best performance. And yes, my sermon this Sunday must be more profound, creative, deep, life-transforming than last week's.

(Come to think of it, maybe that's why the altar calls were so dadgum long in the church where I grew up. The poor pastor was paralyzed by encore anxiety and couldn't cut off the 14th stanza of "Just as I Am" until he topped last week).

It's a trap. We know it's a trap. But we go for the bait. And we find ourselves anxious for the encore. Performing for the crowd. As if our identity depends on an encore.

Maybe that's why Paul uses the phrase "in Christ" or something similar 9 different times in Ephesians 1:1-14; to remind those of us prone to encore anxiety that our identity is found in our position "in Christ," not in our performance in a task.

Martha and The Good Samaritan

This past week I finished preaching a series in Luke 10:25-42 called "Mission: Next Door."

The story of Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42) doesn't normally get connected to the story about the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), which I think is a shame. If the story of Mary and Martha isn't connected to the Good Samaritan, it's a weird story to have sandwiched in between accounts of Jesus teaching His disciples what it looks like to follow Him.

But when you look at the two stories closely, I think you find that they are connected. Luke tells the story about Martha and Mary to illustrate the flip-side of what he illustrates in the story of the Good Samaritan.

The section starts with an expert in the Law and his description of the Great Commandment (to love the Lord God with all you are and to love your neighbor as yourself). But he's obviously a guy who isn't keeping the Great Commandment. He thinks he's loving the Lord His God, but knows there's a problem with loving his neighbor as himself. So, he asks Jesus to clarify; to narrow the focus of "neighbor" so the man can be sure to comply.

In response, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan in which he specifically highlights two of the Jewish Elite who busily walked by a wounded man on their way to or from the Temple in Jerusalem. They puffed their chests out, no doubt thinking they were loving the Lord their God with all their heart. In reality, they were too holy to get messy and Jesus showed that their unwillingness to love their neighbor demonstrated they weren't really loving the Lord their God either. The Good Samaritan story illustrates for Jesus-followers what happens when we separated the command to love God from the command to love our neighbor.

The Martha and Mary story illustrates the flip side. Martha has sacrificed her entire day to prepare a meal for Jesus (and probably for the 84+ friends who were traveling with Him). She's so convinced she is loving her neighbor that she silently seethes at her sister who is wasting her time sitting at the feet of Jesus (Luke 10:39). She is "pulled away by much serving." As Jesus responds to her (Luke 10:41-42) He reveals that she's worried about a lot of things, but isn't concerned with the one most important thing. Her service didn't flow from a pure love for God so when she was the only one loving her neighbor she decided the Lord must not even care (Luke 10:40b).

The Good Samaritan illustrates what happens when loving your God gets disconnected from loving your neighbor. The Martha and Mary story illustrates what happens when loving your neighbor gets disconnected from loving the Lord our God.

We have to have both, and both flow into one another. Love for God must propel us to love others, which must flow back into a love for God. Luke 10:25-42 reveals that if one is absent from the cycle, they're both absent from the cycle.

Less is More?

I've read Tim Stevens' blog for some time. I don't always agree with him (I don't always agree with myself), but find he often provides blogs that are thought provoking. He's gifted in an area I'm not (administration/executive pastoring), so I enjoy looking inside his brain.

Last week he had a post about a change in blogging philosophy that he's experimenting with. The post is worth reading, but in short, Tim is planning to post much longer posts with much less frequency. Rather than relying on RSS or Feedburner to drive people to his blog, he is using twitter to tweet topics when he posts in hopes that he'll drive interested readers to his blog. He's trying to post blog entries with the length of chapters in a book, in hopes that quality will trump quantity and increase his readership.

That may be how most of the world is reading blogs, but it certainly isn't how I read them. I much prefer a quick two or three paragraph blog to one that is going to take me a length of time to read. I like to expose myself to a lot of thinking, so I "follow" several blogs. I'd rather have a brief digest of what is on someone's radar than something of publishable quality. I prefer something more than a quippy tweet, but less than what I would expect to read in a book.

For me, the best blogs are the ones that make me think or challenge my thinking, but which can be read in a short amount of time. I don't like to invest a bunch of time on any one person's blog - to me the benefit of blogs is that you can get a quick glimpse into the thinking of an array of people without the same investment it would take me to read a chapter in all their books.

But, I may be the minority. What do the rest of you think?

Champions

Had a great conversation with one of our Elders the other day about a principle that drove his career in the marketplace that I think translates to leading a ministry as well. 

He said, for everything you do as an organization that is really, truly important, you need someone who wakes up in the morning only thinking of that one thing. 

It can be a staff member; it can be a volunteer; but if it's truly important, someone on your team needs to wake up in the morning thinking about that one thing and only that one thing. 

If theology is important, someone on your team needs to wake up in the morning thinking about theology and only theology. 

If external focus is important, someone on your team needs to wake up in the morning thinking about external focus and only external focus. 

If connecting people to ministry opportunities is truly important, someone needs to wake up in the morning thinking about how to connect people to ministry and nothing else. 

It works for small groups too. If you want your small group to be about spiritual growth, someone in your small group needs to wake up in the morning thinking about how to help your small group grow spiritually. 

You need champions for the important things. Otherwise, they'll get lost and distracted in the busyness and the process, and you'll never get around to what is really important. 

Lead Free

I had lunch last week with a guy who gave me some great advice he received from his dad.

"Lead Free."

Keep short accounts with people. Keep your integrity intact. Worship before you work so you can worship while you work. That way, you can lead free.

So much of what we do is a reaction to something else. When you eliminate the negative motivations for responding the wrong way, you free yourself to lead well. You're not encumbered by the things that constrain leaders and kill their leadership. You can lead free.

Good advice.

Welcome Mats

Several years ago I taught a series in which I talked about the hypocrisy of welcome mats. I stumbled back across the series the other day and was reminded of the illustration.

Kari and I don't have a welcome mat on our front porch that says "Welcome." You shouldn't either. In fact, when you walk into a home that has a big mat out front that says "Welcome," you ought to be utterly and personally offended because your hosts really don't mean it.

What the mat ought to say is "Welcome, but not like that." Fix yourself up, clean yourself off, and then you're welcome in my house. You're welcome once you meet the standard of what I find acceptable in my house, namely clean feet. Until then, "Stay Out."

Welcome mats only tell part of the story.

I wonder if sometimes we're not like that, especially in our churches? We tell people they're welcome, but have several provisions of what that it takes to be deserving of an actual welcome. Our sign says, "everyone welcome," but when the homeless guy comes in smelling like urine, we're surprised that he doesn't recognize the welcome doesn't apply to him. The teenager who is pregnant "out of wedlock" doesn't recognize that the welcome applies to her.

I'm not talking about being soft on sin or shy about tackling difficult issues. I'm also not talking about being at a place where we compromise safety in order to accommodate "messy" people. I am talking about dealing with those issues the same way Jesus dealt with us - sacrificing Himself to meet our need. Moving toward us when we were despicable.

The problem is, so many of the things that cause us to "unwelcome" people have nothing to do with Jesus. That's the part I'm hoping we can re-think.

An Unqualified Yes

I spend quite a bit of time in the trees of Bible Study, so I try to discipline myself to stop and look at the forest on a regular basis. This year, I'm reading through The Message. It wouldn't be great for intense Bible Study - it isn't a "translation" of the Bible, just a paraphrase. But, it's a really good paraphrase and I regularly find that it shines new light on a passage I've read a hundred times somewhere else.

For example: I love how Eugene Peterson handles Joshua's challenge to the people of Israel at Shechem in Joshua 24.  These are Joshua's last words to the people of Israel and they're determined to convince him that they'll be faithful long after he's gone.

He knows better.

He walks back through Israel's history with them and reminds them that Israel has always been unfaithful, but that God has remained faithful nonetheless. Time after time, Israel was unfaithful even after watching God work miraculously, but time after time God took them back.

The people say "Count us in: We too are going to worship God. He's our God" (Joshua 24:18).

Joshua knows better.

Joshua challenges them again: "You can't do it; you're not able to worship God... He won't put up with your fooling around..." But the people remain convinced.

Joshua knows better, but he draws a line in the sand for them, and I love this:

Joshua said, "Now get rid of all the foreign gods you have with you. Say an unqualified Yes to God, the God of Israel."

Say an unqualified "yes" to God, the God of Israel.

It's easy to say to God, "Yes, but..." or "Yes, if..."

Joshua's words make it really clear: God desires the unqualified Yes. For Him, it's the difference between worship and idolatry.

In what area of your life do you need to say an unqualified Yes to God, the God of Israel?

More or Less Choices?

Whatever it is you're leading - whether a corporation, church, or family, there is a pressure to satisfy as many people as possible. We all feel it, even if we aren't "people-pleasers" by nature. 

Most often, our instincts tell us that the way to satisfy the most people is to offer more choices. We feel as if, for example, the way to satisfy more customers is to expand our product line. The way to satisfy more church members is to offer more choices in programming or worship style. The way to satisfy more of our kids is to offer a buffet every night for dinner. 

The truth is, this is one area where our instincts will almost always lead us astray. 

In reality, more choices lead to what Chip and Dan Heath in their book Switch call "decision paralysis." They say, "more options, even good ones, can freeze us..." When we have too many choices, we normally revert to whatever the status quo is in order to minimize risk; we don't want to choose wrong so we don't choose at all. The result is, we still find ourselves dissatisfied. 

The other problem with offering more choices is that the desire for more choices is insatiable. I go to the pizza buffet where I have access to an unlimited supply of pizza with an ability to request any combination I desire, and leave frustrated because they don't have green olives on their make table. If people have the illusion of limitless choices, they'll almost inevitably fixate on the one thing they can't have. 

My experience is that you normally satisfy more people when you limit the choices, do what you can do well, and resist the temptation to try to satisfy everyone; you'll only make them more unhappy. 

God Doesn't Want to Be On the List

Last Sunday I started a series in Luke 10:25-42, which begins with a hat tip to the Great Commandment. We looked specifically at the command to "love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength" from Deuteronomy 6.

A lot of times we talk about our "priorities" as a checklist: I put my relationship with God first, my wife second, my kids third, my job fourth, and so-on. The problem with that is that (a) it's impossible to measure priorities that way and (b) it assumes that you can't love God by loving your wife, your kids, or item #462 on your checklist.

Deuteronomy 6:1-9 is fairly clear: God doesn't want to be on your priority list. He wants the whole thing.

It ought to be as if when people look in our eyes, (Deuteronomy 6:8) they see a person who loves the lord their God with all their heart, soul, and strength that it is as if the message was tied on our foreheads; as if it was written on the door frames of every door we walk through.

Every day, every time, through every door, every part of us ought to be on a mission to love God.

When you look at it that way, the point of Deuteronomy 6 is that there's not much of a difference between secular and sacred; only a difference between loving God and idolatry (Deuteronomy 6:4-5).

Two Pizzas and a Meeting

I was reading last week about Amazon.com's theory on meetings. They have a two-pizza rule on projects and teams: If a group would consume more than two pizzas in a sitting, the team is too big and destined to get bogged down in bureaucracy.

Aside from the fact that Amazon.com's execs have never watched me consume pizza, the general principle of this "two-pizza" concept makes a whole lot of sense.

Small teams are more agile and able to ensure that every person has an opportunity to fully understand the issues at hand. Questions and concerns can be dealt with quickly and comprehensively without leading to rabbit trails and other discussions which are only tangentially connected to the actual objective of the team.

Yes, smaller teams leave some people out of the conversation. But ultimately, those people were likely to be left out of the discussion of a bigger team too - they would have been present, but not a real part of the discussion. Inevitably, the real decisions will be made outside the meeting by a smaller group of people anyway.

If the team will consume more than two pizzas, you might consider making it smaller. The result will be teams that are more productive, efficient, and because they won't have to meet as frequently, happier.

Pray Specifically

I'm far from the world's leading expert in prayer, but I'm learning. 

For most of my life, my prayers have been vague, broad, expansive "Lord, help the world" kinds of prayers. Even when they're more specific than "help the world," I tend to find myself praying "blessings" for people and "provision" for people and for "guidance" in situations. Then I find myself frustrated because I so infrequently see specific answers to my prayers. 

Why do we expect God to give specific answers to non-specific prayers? And even more, how would I know if He did give specific answers to the vague, broad prayers I pray so often? 

I'm learning to pray more specific prayers. Rather than praying general, broad, vague prayers, I'm asking God for specifically what I hope he will do. It takes more time and a lot more focus, but I'm finding it helps my prayer life quite a bit. When I ask for specific things, I receive specific answers, and prayer gets a whole lot more exciting.

Professional or Amateur

Not long ago I was visiting with Eric Swanson, Leadership Network's Externally Focused guru.

As a part of the conversation, he made a contrast between amateurs and professionals that I thought was brilliant.

He said, "The difference between amateurs and professionals is this: amateurs work until they get it right. Pros work until they can't get it wrong."

Amateurs practice until it's enjoyable. Pros practice until it's worth something.

Whatever you're doing today, know whether you're expected to be an amateur or a professional. It changes things.

The Middle East and Psalm 87

As you might expect of someone who has a heart for the Nation of Israel and hasn't been under a rock for the past few weeks, I've followed the situation in the Middle East with quite a bit of interest.

Unrest in Egypt, Libya, Iran, Iraq, Bahrain, Lebanon, Jordan, and much of the rest of the Middle-East world has caused serious concern about the rise of radicalism in most of the countries that surround Israel. Combined with world perception about the settlements on the fringes of Israel, Israel finds itself in quite the predicament.

So what else is new? Israel has been in predicaments since shortly after Moses descended from Sinai.

I am (of course) praying Psalm 122:6-9 for the peace of Jerusalem. But I also find myself praying Psalm 87 for the whole Middle-East.

In Psalm 87:1-3, God declares that He loves Jerusalem more than any other place Israel has lived, calling it "The City of God." But the rest of Psalm 87 records a promise to Israel that provides as much comfort and hope today as it did when God first declared it.

God promises that Rahab (Egypt), Babylon (Iraq), Philistia (Gaza), Tyre (Lebanon) and Cush (Northern Africa) will someday be recorded as those who acknowledge Him - literally as those who "know" the Lord.

In fact, he goes a step further to say that the people from all those nations will someday be recorded as those who belong with God's people because they will believe and know the God of God's people.

To quote Steve Strauss, "God doesn't see them as 'them.' He sees them as potential 'us.'"

When God fulfills Psalm 87, there will be quite the party (Psalm 87:7) between all the nations of the Middle East, including Israel. The countries won't need allies; they'll have common ground in a relationship with the Most High God.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Premortems

Guy Kawasaki's book "Enchantment: The Art of Changing Hearts, Minds, and Actions" was released last week for Kindle. It's worth reading.

One of the concepts Kawasaki talks about is the importance of doing "premortems" on a new idea or program.

In ministry, much like in other organizations, nobody ever bothers to conduct a "postmortem" on an idea that has died. There isn't enough time, resources, or interest to spend time thinking about a program that didn't make it. Leaders' plates are full enough.

Kawasaki recommends conducting a "premortem" review early in the launch phase. The premortem review is the discipline of asking before an idea, product, or program is launched, "Think toward the future and assume what we are talking about is launched, and fails. What would be the cause of death?"

According to Kawasaki, the premortem review allows you to solve problems before they happen, reduces the likelihood of a false-start, increases the likelihood of creativity on the front-end, brings light to early warning signs, and opens the pool of shared knowledge to more people because the environment is less political. People won't criticize a project mid-stream or after it dies because they don't want to throw stones at other people on the team or be perceived as someone who is not a team player.

We've done a premortem review on some of the ideas our staff has discussed in the past and found it to be fairly helpful. It's not a perfect method - foresight is never as clear as hindsight, even when it's disciplined foresight. Even still, a premortem review can be a really important discipline for a team to engage.

Boring

Young Life used to have a mantra: "It's a sin to bore kids with the Gospel."

I feel the same way about the Scriptures as a whole. Whether you're teaching the Bible or simply reading the Bible out loud, boring, lifeless, uninspired presentation of inspired Scripture ought to be outlawed by Christians.

I don't know when or why Christians started reading the Bible like a technical manual, but it's a syndrome that seems to pervade Christianity, at least in the West. I wish we would figure out a way to put a stop to it.

We read the Bible like it's an Electrical Engineering textbook and then wonder why people in our churches aren't more inspired to give their lives for the God it reveals.

The Scriptures contain the words of life (John 6:56); the inspired words of God (2 Timothy 3:16). Shouldn't we read them and talk about them with life, like they are inspired?

/rant