Shame comes in all shapes and sizes:

A big zit on your nose.

A past full of brokenness and abuse.

A rip in the seam of your pants.

A failed marriage.

Silly or serious, we’ve all felt it. The exposure of a vulnerability or apparent shortcoming that drives us to run away. To cover up. To hide. And unfortunately, The Church (my church, even me personally) can foster environments of shame, even when we’re not intentionally trying to.

It makes sense. The Church, a place of grace, hope, and unconditional love, is also an environment full of expectations. Standards of behavior naturally emerge in any culture, but engaging in Church culture comes with a built-in assumption of moral superiority. We profess faith in God and innately feel our lives should reflect that (even if we don’t).

And while some shame is understandably innate, some is undeniably overt. We’d be lying to ourselves if we didn’t admit there are many in the Church who willingly use shame as a means to control. To maintain power over people. To protect their personal preferences. To manipulate others towards their desired outcomes.

Innate or overt, when we fall short (which we always do), shame moves in. Becomes a constant companion. And shame is a horrific house guest.

God deals in conviction, not shame. Shame is based in condemnation, in pointing out deficiencies with the intent of rejecting, judging, or looking down on another. And Jesus didn’t come into the word to do that:

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17 NLT)

Yet in so many church environments shame is still a primary motivator, filling our sanctuaries with guilty people. Hiding people. Manipulated people. Self-righteous people. Frightened people. Fake people. Or in more and more cases, empty seats.

So how do we know when God is convicting or when shame is condemning? Here’s some thoughts:

Shame is an ego-protection mechanism that focuses on how we appear to others.
Conviction is an inward re-alignment with who God is and has called us to be.

Shame conforms us to man-made expectations.
Conviction leads us to repentance.

Shame causes us to create false perceptions of reality.
Conviction leads us to openly face who we really are.

Shame manipulates and imprisons.
Conviction heals and frees.

Shame misuses aspects of truth to manage and control.
Conviction reconnects us to absolute truth.

Shame formulates outward behavioral modification.
Conviction births true inward transformation.

Shame pushes us towards self-protection.
Conviction pushes us towards Christ.

Shame asks us to do the work.
Conviction drives us towards the One who already did it all.

Which one is driving you? What is being fostered in your environments? What do you think?

Never in all of human history have we had access to so much information. So many insights.  So many stories.  So many opinions.  So much good stuff (and some, well…) is there for the taking.

Even those of you reading this post right now are ingesting my perspective, my way of looking at the world.  No editor. No filter. No approval channels.  No publisher needed to grant access to our interaction.  My personal revelations directly delivered to your ears (or eyes…whatever).

Powerful possibilities.  Lots of voices.  In my world (of church leadership), the chatter may sound like this:

Real churches own their own buildings.

Your marketing plan is missing a major component.

The best small group formula is ___________.

You don’t care enough about social issues.

You talk too much about social issues.

Church music is trending edgier/louder/longer/less rock-oriented/introspective/shorter/more R&B/Gregorian chant (I’ve actually heard this one, no joke)

The early church was all about community, man (said in my best emerging church hippie-surfer voice)

What’s your church’s Facebook strategy?

All cool pastors have their own blog (this one, of course, is true)

The future of church growth is multi-site.

Are your services online?

Are you investing in Africa? Europe? Southern Asia? The penguin colonies of eastern Antarctica?

You get the picture.  And these voices can be good, even God-ordained. To grant me short-cuts.  Best practices.  Quicken the learning curve.  To challenge my hard-headedness.  Illuminate a blind spot.

In your world the conversation may be different, but the reality is the same:  we have easy and constant access to all the latest trends, concepts, experiments, opinions, and success stories we can put in our arsenal.

So many voices in fact, that we really don’t even need God’s anymore…

At least that’s where I can find myself.  And this little “people-pleasing” virus embedded deep in my soul drives me to respond.  To appear responsible.  Intelligent.  Cutting edge.  Socially conscious.  Technologically aware.  Whatever it is “they” (who are those people anyway?) think I should be.

And then I remember the Israelites.  You know, God’s chosen people who’s stories fill the pages of Scripture?  I’m reminded of a little detour they took – like 40 years of wilderness wandering (and you think you’re bad with directions) – all because they stopped listening. No, not to each other (there was plenty of that).  To the One Voice that had their real instructions:

“For who were the people who turned a deaf ear? Weren’t they the very ones Moses led out of Egypt? And who was God provoked with for forty years? Wasn’t it those who turned a deaf ear and ended up corpses in the wilderness? And when he swore that they’d never get where they were going, wasn’t he talking to the ones who turned a deaf ear? They never got there because they never listened, never believed.” (Hebrews 3:15-19 MSG)

Am I listening?  Am I really listening?  Not just to “the voices,” but to The Voice?

Are you?

I find myself somewhat reflective today.  CityCom is one (as in years old).  This “grand experiment,” this “adventure in Indy” we call City Community Church officially came to life one year ago today: March 1, 2009.  It’s still so surreal in such a beautiful sort of way.

But today there is no cake, no gifts, no party. Some birthday, huh?

Maybe we’re overly-sensitive, but we’re cautious of celebrating existence. Existence, just being here, really doesn’t mean much in God’s Kingdom.  In fact, God doesn’t really look too kindly on just existing.

Check out Jesus’ words from Luke 13 (emphasis mine):

^6-7Then he told them a story: “A man had an apple tree planted in his front yard. He came to it expecting to find apples, but there weren’t any. He said to his gardener, ‘What’s going on here? For three years now I’ve come to this tree expecting apples and not one apple have I found. Chop it down! Why waste good ground with it any longer?‘

^8-9“The gardener said, ‘Let’s give it another year. I’ll dig around it and fertilize, and maybe it will produce next year; if it doesn’t, then chop it down.‘”

To put CityCom’s birthday in Jesus’ terms: we don’t want to celebrate that the tree is still standing, we only want to celebrate if it’s actually producing good fruit.

So, no church growth statistics today (although a few of them might impress you). Just people. Beautiful people. That’s what I want to celebrate.

People taking “one step closer to becoming fully devoted followers of Jesus Christ.”

People accepted for who they are, but challenged to become all God created them to be.

People embracing a journey of risk, adventure, and transformation.

People longing to know what it means to be The Church, not just go to church.

This is the fruit. The fruit we long for.  The fruit that we celebrate.  The fruit we desperately hope is pleasing to God.  And we’re seeing signs of it.  Beginnings.  “Buds.”

I’m so grateful to all of you who, in one way or another, have made City Community Church come to life.  May we bear much fruit. One year down, and the adventure is just beginning.

My friend Geoff Wybrow hit me with a challenging statement yesterday:

“Offend people with the truth, not your character flaws.”

Some days we offend people with our brokenness, our insecurities, our selfish motivations, with the baseball bat of our own pain that we willingly or unwillingly take to the heads of others like an angry mafia boss (sorry for that visual, I’m a big fan of the movie Goodfellas).

But at times the truth really does hurt.  At times it should hurt.

Most prophets in the Bible weren’t real good at making friends.  Their words were too piercing, their obedience too radical, the Spirit of God too active in their declarations.  Isaiah walked around naked for three years, Hosea married a prostitute, and the prophet Nathan (no relation to my buddy LaGrange) called King David a liar and a murderer.

Bad social skills or insider’s information on some hard truth?

This past Sunday at City Community Church, we were confronted with some hard truth.  Not condemnation – that outward-in, man-made, guilt-ridden obligation that leads to resentment, not long-term transformation (Jesus never worked that way).  But conviction – an inside-out revelation from the Holy Spirit that shows us our brokenness and calls us to repentance. I want to share some of it with you.

Here is the video created by Rachel Richard that interrupted (yes, literally interrupted) the music towards the opening of the service (don’t adjust your volume, there intentionally isn’t any):

And click the link below to hear the powerful spoken word piece (this is a must listen) from our friend Mike Perez that brought the day to a close:

Just Worship: Mike Perez

And if you’ve got more time, linked here is the complete message from my friend and co-pastor Nathan LaGrange:

[blank]: Dismantled: Nathan LaGrange

Love to hear your thoughts.  Have you ever been offended by some hard truth?

Comment at http://www.beyondtherisk.com

I once asked a young youth pastor for his perspective on creating effective youth ministry in a local church environment.  His answer stunned me:

“I would never hire a me.”

Excuse me?  What?

“As soon as a church hires a full-time youth minister, the people no longer take individual responsibility for the young people around them. It becomes my job, the institutions job, to make disciples of the kids.”

Interesting perspective.  But it forced me to ask a difficult question: “have I lost my own sense of personal responsibility?”

In a culture where Starbucks serves me coffee, Apple serves up iPhones, and Walmart seems to fill in all possible remaining gaps, it’s easy (even for me…maybe especially for me) to view the church as another faceless institution that provides “spiritual consumables.” Want proof?

A few weeks ago, a guy approached me in the lobby after our weekend service to ask for some help understanding the Bible.  My gut reaction?  We should design a class I could send this guy to for basic Bible instruction.  Only later did it hit me, I should just personally show this guy how to study Scripture.

When the 7.1 earthquake demolished Haiti, my immediate thought was “CityCom should write a check to a relief organization.”  It took some time, and a little conviction, before I pulled out my own checkbook.

American culture rewards those who figure out how to make life more convenient. I love that.  But what if Starbucks required you to jump behind the counter and make coffee for someone else before you could get yours?  Or if Apple insisted you work the assembly line to activate your iPhone subscription?  Or Walmart made you stock shelves in order to shop there?  Would you do it?

That’s more like the Gospel Jesus modeled. It’s inconvenient.  It costs.  It serves.  It takes responsibility. And that makes me uncomfortable.

The church doesn’t exist as a faceless institutional answer.  You and I are here to become the church, and that requires immense personal responsibility.

What personal responsibility am I placing on “the church” to avoid owning it for myself?

Post your thoughts at http://www.beyondtherisk.com

I have an uncanny ability to over-correct. Like a car that’s lazily drifted onto the beveled sing-song concrete of a highway median, I can jerk the vehicle across three lanes of traffic in an emotional panic (somebody must have been texting while driving).

I grew up in a charismatic church movement (yes, there is therapy available). My particular church didn’t fit the stereotype to a tee, but I was definitely absorbed in a culture that embraced a pentecostal perspective. The good and the…uh…interesting aspects as well (I’ll leave the details to your imagination).

Over time, I began to resent some of what I felt were cheap and shallow explanations of the Gospel. Burying the unexplainable realities of life in cheap, spiritual catch-phrases (that usually rhymed). Defining an encounter with God solely as an event-driven, emotional experience. I became a bit disillusioned.

So I swung the pendulum.

I began to pursue God intellectually. To ask and wrestle with hard questions. To become more cerebral with my faith. And some of that was very healthy and healing.

Until it wasn’t. Until I over-corrected and jerked the car hard to the right.

I turned God solely into a logical pursuit, a concept or philosophy to be figured out. I eliminated the supernatural and the unexplainable aspects of my Creator.

I missed the median and headed straight for the ditch.

“While Jews clamor for miraculous demonstration and Greeks go in for philosophical wisdom, we go right on proclaiming Christ, the crucified…Christ is God’s ultimate miracle and wisdom all wrapped up in one.” (1 Cor. 1:22-25 MSG)

I hate to admit it, but I want a God that makes sense to me. So I form him in my image. I teeter back and forth between aspects of His character that appeal to my current circumstances or explain my past hurts. I swing the pendulum in an attempt to find peace, and in the process miss the Prince of Peace standing right there in front of me.

Jesus is not a philosophy to be embraced (Pentecostal, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, non-denominational…pick your poison) He’s a person to be encountered. Daily. In the reality of my every moment.

I’m off the teeter totter. How about you? Do you ever swing the pendulum?

Comment at http://www.beyondtherisk.com

As a church leader, the reality is unavoidable. News stories circulate the statistics through Christian networks and publications with great regularity. Western Churches are dying. Closing their doors at an alarming rate.  And my honest, and undoubtedly controversial, question is this:  is that really all that bad?

I’m the co-pastor of a local church in downtown Indianapolis, and I unabashedly believe that the local church is God’s designated expression to bring His hope to the world. But I sometimes wonder if all our efforts to keep churches in business are actually working against God’s designed purposes for those churches to begin with.  Really, I haven’t been drinking.  Let me explain.

We have an undeniable propensity to see the church as an entity instead of a people, an institution instead of a movement. So almost involuntarily over time, our focus turns toward acquiring and keeping resources that sustain the organization. Efforts which may or may not lead to the expansion of the Kingdom of God.

“Preserve and keep builds my kingdom.  Create and release grows God’s.”

In fact, almost without warning, our church and its existence can easily become our definition of God’s Kingdom in its entirety. The complete answer to the question, rather than just a piece of a much larger landscape.

In business school we learned the product life cycle.  Eventually, regardless of longevity, all products become obsolete. It’s inevitable.  But that doesn’t necessarily eliminate the demand for what those products provided.  Cultural shifts or technological breakthroughs may simply create a better way to accomplish the desired outcome.

Let’s be honest, if McDonald’s goes out of business, people will still find cheap, artery-clogging food to eat.  If GM shuts it doors, transportation won’t cease to exist.  If Apple files for bankruptcy, our generation will still create technological tools that allow us to snobbishly mock users of Microsoft products.

“The church is a means, not an end.”

And if my organized expression of the local church ever ceases to exist, God’s Kingdom will still expand (ask any of the skyrocketing number of Christians in communist China).  Because the church is people, not an institution. If what I know as church isn’t expanding the Kingdom, wouldn’t it be best to release those people and resources to start new faith communities that are?  After all, the church is a means, not an end.

City Community Church turns 11 months old this weekend, and I hope with all my heart that we celebrate 10 years, 25 years, 50 years as a local church community.  But only if we’re truly advancing God’s agenda in the world. If not, we need to go out of business and release our resources to those who are. Getting CityCom to its next birthday milestone can’t be our focus.

Preserve and keep builds my kingdom.  Create and release grows God’s. And isn’t that what the Church is supposed to be all about?  Love to hear your thoughts: www.beyondtherisk.com

I’m honored to participate in the “blog tour” for Mark Batterson’s new book, PRIMAL.  My review of his challenging new book is below.  Check it out (the post and the book).

As far as I know, there is no such thing as “C.A.” (Churchies Anonymous), but maybe there should be. There are undoubtedly a lot of you like me who were raised in the subculture of the Western Evangelical American Church.  You know, that subtle, religious dance, where Christianity is defined by a set of behavioral standards and consistent Sunday attendance.

And while I really do cherish the way I was raised, I often wonder how much of my understanding of God was shaped merely by a set of cultural norms rather than a true and personal encounter with Jesus Christ. Many days I feel like I’m still waking up.

That‘s why I love Mark Batterson’s new book PRIMAL: A Quest for the Lost Soul of Christianity. This book takes dead aim at humanity’s uncanny ability to over-complicate God. To trade in the freedom of Christ for the layers of religiosity He actually came to unravel, all in our vain attempts to find Him in the first place.  In PRIMAL, Mark gets back to the simple essence of what it means to love God.

Mark is a “churchie” like me.  Raised in it, married into it, studied it, built it.  But he’s a church “insider” that’s not satisfied with simply preserving the status quo. Mark’s not afraid of the hard questions, yet he asks them with such dignity and class you feel like he’s giving you a high five while he’s really kicking your butt. Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

“The temptation is to ask this question: what’s wrong with this generation? But that is the wrong question. The right question is this: what’s wrong with the church?”

“As we grow in our love relationship with God, we begin to empathize with God.  We feel what He feels.”

“It seems to me that we have spiritualized the American Dream or materialized the gospel.”

“When we lose our sense of wonder, what we really lose is our soul.  Our lack of wonder is really a lack of love.”

“I’m afraid we’ve unintentionally fostered a subtle form of spiritual codependency in our churches.  It’ is easy to let others take responsibility for what should be our responsibility.”

“Too many of us try to understand truth in the static state.  We want to understand it without doing anything about it, but it doesn’t work that way. You want to understand it?  Then obey it.”

“The truth is that most of us are already educated way beyond the level of our obedience.  We learn more and do less, thinking all the while that we’re growing spiritually.”

“Which do you love more: your dream or God?”

“This book is an invitation to be part of something that is bigger than you, more important than you, and longer lasting than you.  It’s an invitation to be part of the next reformation.“

PRIMAL reads quickly and is compiled in powerful, poignant, yet small, almost blog-like chunks. In fact, this book really seems to be further development of many of Mark’s posts from the last few years.  It reflects an honest passion for Christ beyond just being a church leader (as well as an obvious fascination for scientific thought and studies).

I highly recommend it as a first read for 2010. It’s a great book for anyone, but it found a special connection with me as a church “insider” constantly looking to escape the complicated layers that religious culture has quietly coated me with over the years.  If you want something real, search for something primal.

Check it out. Let me know what you think.

This question plagues me: do our churches better reflect Jesus’ perspective on His Kingdom, or our culture’s infrastructure of corporate America and organizational control?

I’m an organizational thinker by nature.  So before you assume I’m an anti-establishment, VW van-driving, dope-smoking peacenik, you should know I highly value an intentional approach to everything I do (heck, even Jesus had the crowd of 5,000 sit down in groups of 50 before He miraculously fed them with the 5 loaves and 2 fish).  Structure isn’t our enemy, but I do wonder if it’s become our idol.

Check out a few of the things Jesus said His Kingdom is like:

1. A small seed that is planted and grows into a large tree (Mark 4:30-32)
2. A hidden treasure that must be searched for and found (Matthew 13:44)
3. Yeast that’s kneaded methodically into bread-dough (Luke 13:20)

Interestingly enough, He never referred to His Kingdom as any of the following:

1. A Fortune 500 company (although Jesus was hardly unintentional with His actions)
2. An educational institution (although Jesus definitely was a teacher)
3. An NFL franchise (although Jesus is undoubtedly an Indianapolis Colts fan)

God values order and intentionality, but sometimes I wonder if we’ve built structure as a cheap substitute to the messy work of getting personally involved in other people’s lives. Organization centralizes power, makes it easier to point to what I “own” or can take credit for, gives us a system to push people into.  And the dirty little secret, makes it possible to collect the money (you were already thinking it, I might as well say it).

Or maybe it’s even simpler than that.  Maybe it’s just because that’s what we see around us, because that’s how “our world” works.  And it’s easier to respond with what we know, what our culture and history tells us, than to search out what God really desires.

I don’t know if I’m right.  Just something I’m wrestling with.  Have we missed the mark, or is this just a case of unnecessarily taking easy pot-shots at the American church?  What do you think?

I’m a practical idealist.  A pragmatic dreamer.  It’s a blessing and a plague.  I’m full of passionate dreams, world-changing imagination, big vision – all combined with a sobering (and sometimes paralyzing) inoculation of reality.  Some days it feels like schizophrenia.

I remember the moment like it was yesterday.  I was a 2nd year music major at Belmont University in Nashville, Tennessee, laying in the upper bunk of my dorm room in Herron Hall, staring at the textured ceiling early one morning.  I was chasing my dream, to be in the Nashville music scene, and had the educational trajectory to prove it.  Only problem: my realism gene was kicking in.

So many of my older friends were graduating (with $50k+ in debt mind you) from this prestigious school that had successfully populated so much of the Nashville music industry.  And their highly respected diplomas were leading them to wait tables at the local Chili’s.  Big dreams (and big debt) wrapped in a soaking wet blanket of real life.

Heck, I didn’t need to spend $50k to wait tables.  I could do that for free.  So I left Nashville and my dreams of music biz stardom and got a degree in the absolutely most practical thing I could think of: accounting (yeah…I know).  Reality swallowed and digested my ambition.

So what’s the right answer?  Live as a pragmatic realist, squashing every dose of passion with the hammer of responsibility? My grandfather did that.  Forty years in a Chicago steel mill, consistent schedule, regular paycheck, good pension.  Hard work, but safe.  Consistent.  Responsible.  I often wonder what untapped vision he surrendered to the compelling call of responsible realism. What dreams were buried with him?

What I see in my generation is quite the opposite, but maybe even more disturbing.  Lots of dreams.  Lots of visions (usually of grandeur).  Lots of imagination.  Countless choices.  Zero realism.  And so influence goes unused and imagination stays stored in a little locked cupboard full of immobilized idealism.

The expressions of these two generational perspectives may look completely different, but the symptom is the same: control.

Pragmatists choose predictability over possibility.  Idealists choose imagination over action.  Practicality eliminates the possibility of failure.  But so does just dreaming.  In both cases, we keep control of our lives, our efforts, our destinies. We call the shots.  We make the rules.  We eliminate the risk.

We write our story.

And while we continue to furiously scribble with our ink-less pen, the Creator of the Universe patiently waits for us to simply surrender ourselves to His beautiful, dream-filled, action-packed narrative.

Risky.  Unpredictable.  Costly.  But very real.