July 10, 2007

My mind, heart, and soul is still reeling from reading George Barna’s “Revolution” yesterday.
Although I read it in one day, it’s going to take me some time to sort through it all. Much of this was making me feel a little on overload today. I ran early this morning, and had a great time of worship and connection with the very patient and accommodating God of the universe. He really does draw close to us when we draw close to him.
Today, as far as study break usually plays out, was a bit out of the norm. Because I buzzed through Barna’s “Revolution” book, I began a re-read of Mark Driscoll’s “Confessions of a Reformation Rev.” I got about 60 pages in.
Driscoll is a great, living example of a George Barna revolutionary. He’s doing simple church that focuses on people BEING the church. I love the way Driscoll writes. He makes you laugh out loud. He writes about the place where his church plant first met: “The upstairs room at the fundamentalist church was so hot that everyone was sweating like Mike Tyson in a spelling bee.” I love that kind of creative imagery.
Driscoll has recognized the revolution and focuses his church on proper 1) Christology --- who Jesus is and what He wants us to do. 2) Ecclesiology --- what structure of church does the Bible promote to impact culture? 3) Missiology --- how can we most effectively expand God’s kingdom? 4) Ministry --- how does Jesus want us to serve his mission in our culture through the Church? Simple and back to Jesus. Brilliant. Genius. Rare.
Reading, again, “Confessions of a Reformission Rev” will be a good follow-up read after being flattened yesterday with Barna’s Revolution.
Reading today was slow though. Tedious. I was easily distracted. I read more Psalms (70-73). “God you bear my burdens, and you save me.”
God, you know what’s going on in my heart. You know the burdens bouncing around in my head and heart. I trust you to save me, and help me sort through things.
I sat under the umbrella with Sherry and talked through some of Barna’s insights… and how they fit into our marriage, family, and ministry. Have we veered off course, and what will the next 20 years of ministry look like for us? This stuff has been more challenging than what we normally are exposed to on study breaks.
Why are so many church (little “c”) people burned out and tired? Why is it so hard to raise up leaders and volunteers in the local church? Why so many fights and disagreements? We quizzed each other… “Why are people getting very weary of buildings and capital campaigns and dominating personalities?” There is a palpable hunger beyond what is being spooned out on Sunday mornings in “little c” churches. We’ve sensed it all for some time. Apparently, so have many others. What’s going on? What does all of this look like for us?
As we talked, we were somewhat oblivious to the cloudless blue skies and searing sun that was baking all living things below like a glowing toaster on 6. I didn’t know you could get a blistering sunburn while sitting in the shade of an umbrella. Apparently umbrella fabric is not as great a SPF or UV protection agent as I thought. Who knew? Actually, I think Sherry may have known because she eventually left me to my own design for another three hours of vicious, unsuspecting umbrella shade. I can now cook an egg on my face.
During my lonely afternoon, I continued to read Driscoll but was still distracted like a sand-castle-building dad spotting a frozen lemonade cart.
There is a burden on my heart. There’s something stirring deep inside of me. It’s this revolution stuff… church with a little “c” or Church with a big “c”.
I put Driscoll down and plugged my Ipod back into my wandering head. I’m not sure if this was to give my brain relief or travel further down some mental rabbit trails. Jackson Browne, Chicago, The Afters, Jars of Clay, Taylor Hicks… and then Tait. Michael Tait began to ring truth in my ears: “I got caught in a hurricane. No one but my self to blame. I got lost in the rain. Like a raging sea, fear wants to swallow me. I’ve searched but there’s no peace without you. But if I lose this life, I know I’ll find in you. So won’t you take my life. Cause I surrender to You, I’m running back to the truth. Your Word is clear. I’ve got to believe it.”
That was it. I think I’m feeling like there’s a hurricane looming. The skies are perfectly clear, not many are alarmed or motivated, but it’s coming. There’s an unsuspecting but very real burning. There’s fear… and it’s wanting to swallow me like several waves have done this week.
What’s it mean for me to lose my life as a pastor? Is it surrendering my 20+ years of trying to lead and grow a “successful” church (little “c”)? Dare I admit my leadership has been more about programs, buildings, numbers, empire building, and not near enough about Jesus? Maybe this is why, too often, my pride and ego have spun out of control. I’m amazed at how God has so consistently used me in spite of me. With all of my poor decisions, screw-ups, and sin... it seems like I should have been disqualified from being a pastor a long time ago.

Back to my Ipod... I clicked quickly to Audio Adrenaline. "Ocean Floor" was perfect, Godly medicine. All my sins... my pride... can be forgotten... washed away by a mighty, mighty wave. All aspects of my embarassing and checkered past can be thrown and left forgotten on the bottom of the ocean floor. After a decided few hours of burning and beating myself up, I needed this song. I've always liked "Ocean Floor," but on this day it providentially became even better.
Tonight after supper, I talked with a former colleague of mine back in Indiana. He’s read “Revolution” too. He’s not sure he can just “do” church like he’s been doing for years. He’s struggling with attending the very church that writes his paycheck. Sounds and looks strangely familiar… like the outer rings of a forming hurricane.
At 8:30 all the Scotts gathered for another family movie night. Sometimes the two older girls moan and complain of forced compliancy with such scheduled events, but eventually they come around. We popped a few bags of popcorn and watched “Facing The Giants.” At first I had internal sarcasm for the less-than-stellar acting on yet another “Christian” film. I did several “I’m-more-hip-than-this” eye rolls during the first fifteen minutes. As the DVD rolled on, however, I caught myself wiping surprised tears from my skeptical eyes. The film’s obvious question was clear: “Is there anything God can’t do?” The answer came in one word… “nothing.” In the middle of my floundering thoughts and deepening burdens on this day, I needed this reminder.
I’m going to bed…