Spirit-Filled Ministry

The Tribe in which I travel often thinks of Spirit-Filled ministry in terms of what is described in Acts chapter 2, that Day of Pentecost when the Church was born in that Upper Room. They were waiting just as Jesus had promised, and they were baptized in the Holy Spirit; they spoke in tongues, and boldly proclaimed the Gospel.

While I agree that Acts 2 is vitally important, it isn’t by any means the first time that the Holy Spirit shows up in the Bible, not the first time people were filled with the Holy Spirit.

The way I read it, the first time that the term “filled with the Spirit” shows up in the Bible is in Exodus chapter 31. It isn’t ascribed to Adam or Noah, not to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, or Joseph, not even to Moses or Aaron. It isn’t ascribed to a prophet or priest or any other clergy the first time; the first one “filled with the Spirit” was Bezalel.

The Lord said to Moses, “See, I have chosen Bezalel… and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.” (Exodus 31:1-5)

When it comes to church work, it seems we generally think of the clergy as the ones really filled with the Spirit, those who preach and teach and prophecy and pray and sing and such. All of these should be filled with the Spirit, of course. But isn’t it interesting that the first recipients of the Spirit’s infilling are those who work with their hands? Bezalel was filled with the Spirit to lead and design and work. Oholiab was filled with the Spirit to stand at Bezalel’s side to help him. And a presumably large number of workers were filled with the Spirit to accomplish all the work set before them by the Lord.

And so it is should be in our congregations. In our church I trust people sense that those who pastor and preach and teach are filled with the Spirit. But it isn’t merely the pastors. When Mark runs cables to repair the projector, and makes plans to improve our sound system, Mark is filled with the Spirit. When Gail bakes cookies, pouring love into each morsel that will be enjoyed by friends and tangibly welcomes our guests, Gail is filled the Spirit. When Eugene shows up at just the right time to lend a hand, Eugene is filled with the Spirit. When Charlene lovingly folds and collates bulletins every Thursday morning so that they are ready to welcome folk on the weekend, Charlene is filled with the Spirit. When Merlin artistically captures an image that so wonderfully communicates what it can mean to be part of our congregation, Merlin is filled with the Spirit. And on and on it goes.

Let’s be sure to acknowledge the Spirit’s filling and the Spirit’s work through all that we do. Let’s encourage it in those around us. And let’s be sure to open our own hearts and heads and hands as the Spirit fills each of us for the Lord’s good worth through us.

Not Just Wheat and Grapes

I was talking with my friend Merlin a while back when he said something along the lines of, “I think it is significant that when Jesus instituted Communion, he used bread and wine; it requires a great deal of skillful work to make bread and wine.” I’ve been thinking about that ever since, and I think Merlin is right; there is something really significant there.

I suppose Jesus could have chosen wheat and grapes, or maybe even something found in the wild. He could have made his point without any objects at all, or He could have miraculously produced the bread and wine Himself, like He had with other miracles in other circumstances before. But Jesus picked up the bread and the wine from the table that was prepared before Him, the work of the hands of others.

While this certainly isn’t the main point of Communion, I’m glad that Jesus ordained this rich practice of the Gospel with these objects produced by human hands. In doing so, Jesus made a profound statement about the dignity of our work.

Apart from the miraculous, I doubt Jesus could make bread or wine. He could probably apply the skills of a carpenter when needed, but the skills of a winemaker or baker were outside of His experience. In order for this Holy moment to take place, Jesus had to rely on the skill and labor of others. Skilled farmers had to produce the wheat and the grapes. Others had to prepare the raw ingredients, skillfully storing them and perhaps transporting them. And yet others had to apply the crafts they had learned, likely passed down through generations and practiced for years before perfected. Countless skilled hands, and hours of labor, were represented as Jesus took the bread and the cup in His hands. The work of hands like ours, then in the hands of Jesus, all present as Jesus taught His Disciples, as well as us followers through the ages, the glorious Gospel. 

And so it continues today. While I believe there is still room for the spectacularly miraculous, Jesus usually operates the same way, picking up the result of our work from the table prepared before Him. He takes it into His hands, and puts it into the work of the Gospel. We ought to consider all of our work like this. Whatever it is we work at, we should think of it as something that will ultimately be placed in the hands of Jesus for His good purpose.

Don’t Bother Washing Feet

On the night He was betrayed, Jesus took a towel and basin and taught His Disciples a profound lesson. Before their meal, before their celebration of Passover, before He took bread and wine and said “this is My body and blood,” Jesus washed feet. He wanted to demonstrate that in order for His friends and followers to be great, they must be servants of all.

It was a gross job. These feet were dirty in ways most of us could not imagine. These were feet that came out of well-worn sandals… feet that walked hot streets… streets that doubled as open sewers for both men and beasts. It was expected that feet would be washed before a meal; they were filthy and stinky… and dinner tables were much closer to the floor in those days. But foot washing was reserved for the lowliest of servants, not the Master.

If Jesus showed up at one of our churches today, we might expect Him to want to teach the same lesson. But I doubt that Jesus would walk into the church building, grab a towel and basin, and head to the pastor’s office to wash feet.

Some Christian traditions still do ceremonial foot washing. It can be a powerful symbol that commemorates what Jesus taught and demonstrates servant leadership; I’ve witnessed such a service a few times, and it was meaningful. But let’s face it… washing a couple of feet these days, in our culture, really isn’t that big of a deal. Most feet get washed at least once a day, and then they are placed in clean socks and clean shoes and walk relatively clean streets. There might be a bit of foot odor, but it is nothing close to what Jesus dealt with. I’ve often enjoyed stinkier cheese.

No… if Jesus wanted to teach a lesson about servant leadership, I think he would skip the feet; He would more likely grab the pastor and head to the men’s room. I doubt Jesus would say “let’s wash feet”; He would more likely say “let’s clean urinals.”

Most urinals stink; in my experience, church urinals are often among the stinkiest. I’m not sure why that is. It could be that church bathrooms are often old, often cleaned by volunteers or the lowest bidder, and often left to the bottom of the list when it comes to spending money. There are many excuses when it comes to stinky urinals; I’ve heard lots of them, including: poor ventilation, old fixtures, low water pressure, or not enough urinal cakes (who decided to call them “cakes”?).

Truth is… if urinals stink it isn’t likely due to ventilation or water pressure or urinal cakes; urinals stink because of urine. There is no quick and easy way to clean a urinal; a once over with Windex is a waste of time and energy. And you can’t do it from a safe distance with a brush on the end of a long stick. Much like washing feet in the days of Jesus, cleaning a urinal takes some expertise and it is an up-close-and-personal experience.

Check it out on the Internet; there is a science to urinal cleaning. It usually requires at least three cleaning agents: a disinfectant for the bacteria, an acid to break the minerals, and an enzymatic to get the proteins. But if you do it right, even the stinkiest case can be conquered.

So… for us stinky urinal cleaners (whether literal stinky fixtures or figurative stinky jobs), take heart. Do the work and learn from Jesus. Attention to such details might play a part at winning some, and will (at the very least) build our own character (the stuff theologians call sanctification). 

There is No Try

I listen to the Rich Eisen Show, via podcast, from time to time. Last week David Feherty called into the show and Rich asked him “what happened to Tiger?” His response is worth a listen, available here.

Feherty’s answer sounded like Yoda (except with Feherty’s cool Irish accent); essentially he said, “Do. Or do not. There is no try.” Feherty wondered if Tiger’s anxiety had become too precious to him… that these day’s he is trying to make good golf shots. In the days when Tiger Woods was winning the US Open by 15 shots, he just did it.

That really resonates with me. There have been seasons and roles in my life when I have had a do approach; and other seasons and roles when I have had a try approach. Without question, the most fulfilling and successful results have come when I have been more of a doer than a trier.

So I am taking inventory, separating various roles, responsibilities, and activities into the try category or the do category. For those in the try category, I’m wondering if I can just stop. If I can’t, then I am working to move those from the try category to the do category. That may mean reframing the work, or resetting expectations. It could mean shuffling roles and responsibilities with others (delegating and such). And it likely includes learning new skills and building new systems and approaches. 

Knowing that I am far more productive with a do approach than a try approach, I’m intent on not wasting my efforts on try; I’m going to do.

Demise of Aspirational Chiristians

Perhaps you saw the headlines last week that were based on a study released by the Pew Research Center. Among the headlines were included:

• Study: Americans becoming less Christian, more secular 
• Americans are less Christian, more atheist and agnostic: Pew survey 
• Pew Poll: Sharp Decline In Christian US Population

The headlines and short news stories could lead us to a misunderstanding. I doubt that most reporters read the 200 page report released Tuesday… possibly not even the 7 page executive summary.

Basically the report said that in 2007 most Americans described themselves as Christian, and in 2014 most Americans described themselves as Christian. Not really much news there.

With that said, most news reports had it right on a few key points:

1. The declining numbers were mostly among Catholics and Mainline Protestants, and 
2. The declining numbers were mostly among young people. 

Christians of my ilk, described as Protestant Evangelicals in the study, pretty much held steady as a portion of the population… moving from 26.3% to 25.4% of the population. Numerically, we actually grew by a few million people in that period… but we are lagging behind population growth.

But when added all together, those who call ourselves Christian dropped from 78.4% in 2007 to 70.6% now.

It isn’t because people are becoming something else. Muslims, for example, were less than 1% in 2007 and remain less than 1% today. No, the most significant change is among those classified by the Pew Research Center as unaffiliated. This is a matter of the rise of the nones.

It appears that those who might have been considered as nominal Christians, are now just calling themselves “none of the above”… they are self-described nones (not even agnostic or atheist… just none).

Commenting on the Pew study, Ed Stezer puts it this way:

It's helpful to statistically clarify Christianity in the United States into three categories—cultural, congregational, and convictional. The first two categories are nominal Christians—they identify, but do not shape their lives around the Christian faith.

It appears that there is less of an impulse to identify oneself as Christian in the cultural or congregational sense these days; there is less current motivation in our culture to be a nominal (in name only) Christian. This is especially true among Millennials, young people, the culture that identifies strongly with being genuine. Their high value of authenticity and integrity will not allow them to adopt a Christian label if it does not truly represent their beliefs.

For folks like me who are solidly in the camp of convictional Christians, we might not be all that concerned with the decline of nominal Christians. Maybe it is a good thing, since one could conclude that genuine Christianity is being clarified… clear lines are being drawn and people are being called to choose.

But what if we changed the nomenclature just a bit. What if rather than calling the less-than-convictional nominal, we referred to them as aspirational?

In generations past, when people were glad to bear the label Christian while not necessarily being a convictional Christian, it seems that people were still aspirational Christians. They were glad to be part of a Christian culture. They were glad to have our collective values and morals grounded in Christian faith, even if that faith was the faith of others.

But today’s nones are making a statement; they are no longer ambivalent, but rather are saying no to Christianity. They appear to be determining that there is a better place to root our culture’s values and morals.

And if that is not a significant enough shift in cultural thinking, consider this: it appears that many Christians agree with the nones. Lots of Christians agree that our culture should find our values and morals in foundations other than our faith… such as humanism, science, or economics.

The erosion of nominal Christianity doesn’t concern me much… but the erosion of aspirational Christianity seems to be another significant symptom of a crumbling culture.


The above was adapted from a message I brought to Pleasant Bay Church this morning. It is part of our current series (Jesus said what?), this sermon from Luke 21 where Jesus said "everyone will hate you." You can hear it at http://pleasantbay.cedarpark.org/services 

RSVP

I generally reply to everything… and if I don’t, I at least feel guilty about it. I’m not motivated by guilt about many things, but my habit of replying to emails, voicemails, texts and such, is driven by the nagging guilt that would otherwise haunt me.

I know that not everyone is driven the same way… evidenced by the replies I would like to receive but would grow old waiting for from friends, family, and colleagues (and, especially, sons).

I’ve noticed that I’m more compelled to respond to some categories than others. On one end of the scale is my wife Laurie; regardless of the medium, she will always get a reply ASAP. On the other end of the scale are strangers wanting to sell me something; I’ve never felt compelled to return a call or message from an unsolicited salesperson.

When it comes to the medium, I think some carry more of an expectation of a reply than others. When coming from someone I know, I think an email or a voicemail demands a reply… but I think replies are optional when it comes to text messages, or any other direct messages via Facebook, Twitter, or other social media.

I think I have irritated a few folks with this policy, especially when it comes to texts. I think of texts as a personal, in-the-moment medium (not synchronous, not asynchronous… near synchronous), so if I either can’t or don’t want to reply immediately, I generally don’t; I rarely bother reading or responding to texts that are more than 5 minutes old. I tell people that if they really expect or need a response, then email is a much better option, at least for me.

Am I wrong about that?

To test my position, I put together a quick-and-dirty survey; you can take it yourself on SurveyMonkey here (it generally takes about 90 seconds to complete). It is, of course, not a scientific survey. Mostly because the responses have come from an email I sent to my church friends, and those who saw my post on Facebook and Twitter. So… the responses are mostly from:

1. My friends... people like me, around my age, with similar experience and worldviews, and 
2. People who are generally responsive (they went to the trouble to respond to the survey). 

Nevertheless… I was interested in the responses, which included:

• For people that they know, people say that they always or usually reply 90% of the time to phone/vmail, email, and text. Their inclination to reply to Facebook or Twitter messages lags far behind. 
• For people that they don’t know, people say that they always or usually reply to phone/vmail, and email 25% of the time, and texts 20% of the time. 
• People prefer email, by far, for work/school business. Only a few seem to think texts are acceptable for work/school business. Nobody thinks business should be conducted on Facebook or Twitter. 
• Texts scored very high for communication with friends and family, outscoring phone/vmail by a bit, and other media by a lot.
• Email is the preferred medium when it comes to detailed questions or updates. Nobody likes text for details, and folk seem to prefer email over phone/vmail when it comes details as well. 
• When it comes to quick questions, there was a pronounced preference for texts. 

So… I think I can stick with my premise that text is a personal, in-the-moment medium. If I can respond right away, I should. I’m still thinking about whether I should feel obligated to deal with stale texts.

One other observation, I was surprised how email outscored phone/vmail by such a large margin when it came to work/school, detailed questions, and detailed updates. Verbal communication is, of course, important… but it appears that the ability to write continues to be vital… possibly even more vital than ever before.

Take the survey (click here) and build out my data… and, as always, I’d appreciate your feedback.

Seriously

Friends and colleagues have heard me say this from time to time:

I take my work seriously… but I don't take myself too seriously.

Take your work seriously.
Take God very seriously.
But don't take yourself too seriously.

I think that attitude served me well again recently.

I had opportunity to serve my church family last week, the Northwest Ministry Network, as chair of the Resolutions Team. I led a great team of twelve, wrote a bunch of whereas-and-therefore-be-it-resolved statements, walked leaders through our work, and presented the materials to our Network as part of last week’s annual business meeting. Pretty nerdy work... I’m a bit of a governance wonk, so I presided as King of the Nerds. All of our work was passed without amendment. 

I was surprised by how much feedback I received (all positive) in the days that followed. Most expressed appreciation for the competence of our work; all appreciated the presentation. Business like this, changing bylaws and such, can be both dull and tense. Around my presentation of resolution 3 of 8, it seemed like it was time to lighten things up, cutting the tension for a few and shaking up the potential boredom for many. I did not break into a standup comedy routine, or yuk it up too much… I merely applied a few witticisms and lightened my tone.

We came with our bags packed, our work was solid and I knew it well, ready to present the issues and respond to questions. We had taken the work seriously. But I think it was important to balance the seriousness of the work by demonstrating that we didn’t take ourselves too seriously. I think it put people at ease, making ourselves approachable, welcoming comment and even critique; all in all, I think the balance served to build trust.

Humor is a powerful tool… an ingredient like any other. Just the right amount results in something delicious… too much and the cake is ruined. Like I baker, I have learned the hard way more than once, ruining the cake with a haphazard approach, dumping too much humor into the batch. And I’m sure I will end up tossing out a few more cakes down the road. But last week it appears that I baked a pretty good cake.

And don’t worry, I won’t let that bit of success lead me to taking myself too seriously.

We Are the Network

It was my honor to be among the speakers at the Northwest Ministry Network's Annual Conference today. Here is my manuscript:

I have been asked to remind us about a great way we worked together as a Network about a year ago… a time when we ministers and churches demonstrated that we are the Network.

One way to think of life with Jesus is to think in terms of being a Disciple (a capital D, one of the 12 kind). I would have been bad at it. I’m a task-driven, agenda guy. Schedules and charts and spreadsheets and checklists are my friends. So… walking with Jesus and His Disciples could have been a pretty frustrating experience for me, since walking with Jesus seemed to be characterized by interruptions, uncertainty, obstacles, surprises, and need.

If one was going to be with Jesus, you would have to be ready for Him to respond to need.

And so it goes… if we are going to be with Jesus, we have to be ready for Him to respond to need with and through us.

We had one of those opportunities last year with the Oso Slide. I didn’t even know there was an Oso until the news reports began to stream in that Saturday morning. Sunday morning came, and all we could do was pray. Rescue efforts were still underway and the impact was only beginning to be measured.

The following Wednesday morning, as I was prepping for Sunday, it occurred to me that nobody had told me what we were doing yet. One of the great things about being part of the Assemblies of God and the Northwest Ministry Network is that we routinely get direction and resources when disaster strikes. Whether it is the Network, or Convoy of Hope, or AG World Missions… when something like this happens we don’t usually have to wonder what to do; there is an email with directions and links to resources.

So I started to track down my friends at the Network… and as I started an email I experienced one of those Holy Spirit moments. It was a question that went something like, “Are you ready to step up and help?”

I heard back pretty quickly. Network leaders had determined the best thing we could do was get cash in the hands of our churches already responding on both sides of the slide: Arlington and Darrington.

Our Network leaders had determined what we would do, but not yet how we would go about doing it.

So I asked them to deputize me. With their blessing I cleared my schedule and got to work.

It seemed like video would be handy, so I asked my friend and business partner Merlin Quiggle to help; we do some pro bono work from time to time.

We were able to line up the pastors on both sides for Thursday, Bill in Arlington in the morning and Les in Darrington in the afternoon. We captured their stories, how our church in Arlington was serving as a base of operations supporting the efforts in Oso and how our church in Darrington was really on the frontlines, not only supporting the work in Oso but dealing with Darrington’s own problems now that their only route directly west was cutoff. Both churches were doing meaningful work; it was easy to see that any support we could get into their hands would make a real difference.

By Friday morning we had:

• A website 
• Video ready to be downloaded 
• Instructions, and 
• Online and text-to-give options ready to go (thanks to Greg Stern)

By noon an email went out from the Network and we started to spread the word via social media.

I hoped we could raise $100,000 together by last year’s Annual Conference.

I know churches used the materials in a number of different ways. Some went with the program, showed the video, received an offering, and sent it to the Network Office. Others used chunks of the video, or added to it. Some didn’t use it at all, but watched it to inform their own approach. Some sent gifts directly to the churches, knocking out the middleman.

When it was all added together, we broke through that $100,000 mark in the days just before Annual Conference. Every dollar given was funneled to our churches.

I think we did a great thing together as a Network. The initiative of our leaders, the churches on the frontlines, and the members of our Network came together with Jesus to meet human need. That’s how we roll; I’m glad to be part of this expression of the Body of Christ.

Here’s the takeaway I would like us to consider today: what more can we do together? As we are walking with Jesus, let’s be on the lookout for ways that Jesus can work with and through us, together, to meet needs. We do not walk alone.

Let’s remember that we walk together… and when opportunity arises for us to serve together, let’s do that. When we can pull together as an area or region or Network, let’s meet needs together.

And let’s not wait around for direction from the Network; we are the Network. When we see opportunities to serve together we need to pull the Network in, and we need to be ready to act… to help, serve, and possibly even lead. We each have unique perspective and resources; when Networked together we are strong.

We are strong when we are bound together by relationship, and doctrine, and style, and geography… but I think we might be strongest when we are bound together by service… the Network working together with Jesus, proclaiming the Gospel and reaching out in acts of love, charity, and compassion in our communities and the world. We are the Network.

I Could Have Told You

People who have worked with me know that the one thing you can say to me that may lead to a parting of our ways is, “I could have told you.” If we find ourselves in trouble, or with some mess on our hands, the last thing I want to hear from someone on the team is, “Well… I could have told you so.” It is as if they are saying, “I knew you couldn’t handle the truth.” I can handle the truth. And if for some reason I can’t, let that be my problem.

What I want is people to tell me. I’ve always strived to nurture a truth-telling culture. If you see something, say something. I may not agree, or I may be too stubborn or dumb to realize it really is the truth, but I want to hear it. And I want to hear it early enough so that by taking that perspective into consideration, we might be able to save ourselves pain and suffering down the road. So, don’t ever tell me “you could have told me”; just tell me.

Now there are those who with hindsight overestimate their ability to see the truth early. And there are those who lack the courage to speak up. In both cases I don’t want to hear “I could have told you so” either. It simply isn’t helpful. If you think it somehow elevates our perception of you, knowing that you secretly knew all along… you are wrong.

I’ve always tried to be a truth-teller. It has generally served me pretty well… certainly not always, but usually, and I’m able to sleep at night. As the famous scene depicts, some people can’t handle the truth. I would usually rather suffer for being truthful, than suffering with the truth.

There have been a few times I can recall when I’ve overestimated the relationship and shared a perspective that was not welcomed or appreciated. I had one of those times relatively recently. I saw a post on social media that I knew could be misinterpreted and would likely come back to bite the author. So I endeavored to give my new friend a heads up… in a pretty low-key way, I shared some perspective (arguably expert perspective in this case since it was well inside my field); I shared it directly (not in a retweet or Facebook comment). I don’t make a habit of this, but I have done it a few times that were gratefully receive. In this case, the author wisely pulled the post… but also responded with a short tirade about not appreciating the policing. It got me unfriended. I’m glad the author pulled the post because I think it would have likely resulted in trouble for their job and the organization… but I regret that I overestimated the relationship. I’m still not sure what I should have done differently, but I wish it had not resulted in dinging the relationship.

I want to continue to be better at handling the truth. Both as one receiving the truth and as one telling the truth.

There is a good article about nurturing a truth-telling culture (or dealing with a “yes-person” problem) currently on Fast Company; check it out by clicking here.

Advertising Does Not Replace Selling

I have been doing advertising in one way or another all of my adult life… come to think of it, I started before I was an adult, putting together the advertising pages in my middle school yearbook.

Usually people come to me with adverting projects for the right reasons, such as:

• Opening Doors – An ad campaign can help us get an appointment with customers; they might take our call as a result of a good ad. My friend Merlin describes an ad campaign as artillery softening the front lines so the infantry can charge in and win the battle. 
• Generating Inquiries – Good ads might get someone to visit a web site, make a call, or even stop by the store; an ad will seldom close the sale, but it might get a customer to take a next step in the right direction. 
• Expanding and Solidifying the Brand – Ads often do the most good with our current customers; and ad can help keep them as a customer or give them information about other products within our brand that they might consider. 

But sometimes I get into a conversation with someone looking for help with advertising and I realize that what they really want is to not be bothered with all the pesky work of selling. They hope that an ad will do work instead so that they don’t have to personally ask for the business or close the deal.

I have even had folks explain to me that they need a good ad campaign because their sales force is too busy (as if the ads will do the selling). If you're too busy selling, you don’t need an ad; you need a bigger sales force. The whole point of an ad is to make your sales force busy.

While I don’t think of growing a church in terms of selling, many of the same principles apply. No ad will replace the work of people personally sharing their faith and inviting people to church. Ads can certainly be part of the process (opening doors, generating inquiries, expanding and solidifying the brand), but an ad campaign alone will not grow the church. People vibrantly living and sharing their faith is how the church grows.

On Sundays I’m in the News Business

I’ll wear a suit and tie this Sunday, like I do most Sundays.

That will put me in the minority among pastors of my ilk (evangelical types in Greater Seattle). My suit isn’t a statement, but I do think about it; it is a choice.

Please allow me to say that I don’t have a problem, at all, with the choices other pastors make in this regard. I don’t have a dress code for other pastors on our staff, and when guests fill our pulpit I never specify directions; I’m glad they are comfortable and warmly received however they are dressed.

In fact, those pastors wearing designer jeans and stylish, untucked shirts this Sunday are probably making the better decision. Most of their churches are larger than the congregation at Pleasant Bay. I probably ought to be taking more than just wardrobe advice from them.

From time to time I’ve wondered where I should find my styling cues.

Should it be the entertainment industry? A lot of what I do on Sunday is like an entertainer, on a stage, singing and telling a few jokes.

Should it be business? And if it is business, should it be like the lawyers and bankers in Seattle, or the techies in Redmond?

Maybe I should just match what I see out in the marketplace… taking a clue from what I see at Bellevue Square or Alderwood Mall.

I have determined not to approach my work on Sunday’s as if I am in the entertainment business; on Sundays I’m in the news business (or more accurately the Good News business). I’ve determined that among the various roles in our culture, and the corresponding wardrobe choices, I’m most like a news anchor.

In a news cast, there are voices other than the anchor, and other approaches to wardrobe suited for various roles. But the anchor (when the anchor is a man) wears a suit and tie. It is so normal that it has become invisible to us; we don't notice Lester Holt's suit, but we would certainly notice if he wore anything else.

It is interesting that Fallon, Kimmel, and Stewart make the same choice.

We accept the suit and tie as the uniform for one who is ready for business, anchoring the presentation, and delivering the message.

On Sundays, that works for me. If it works for the news in our culture, I think it works for the Good News too.

The Alternative to Tradition: Bad Tradition

It’s funny. At least from my observation it seems that some of the most vocal opponents of religion are quick to establish their own. They may not call it religion, but we routinely make religions. We find ourselves frustrated with religion so we launch out and do our own thing, establishing our own ways and orders of things and styles… and before we know it we’re religious again.

It puts me in mind of one of my favorite quotes: “The only alternative to tradition is bad tradition.” I heard Jaroslav Pelikan say that in an interview a few years before he died. Dr. Pelikan was a professor at Yale, a historical theologian who has written the definitive academic volumes on the development of Christian creeds.

He said “tradition” but he could have said “religion” just as easily; he was speaking of Christian tradition/religion through the centuries.

His point goes to what I said before, we are wired to make traditions and religions. There is really no such thing as no tradition or no religion… just inferior versions of tradition and religion.

While we are on Pelikan, here’s another famous quote:

"Tradition is the living faith of the dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of the living. Tradition lives in conversation with the past, while remembering where we are and when we are and that it is we who have to decide. Traditionalism supposes that nothing should ever be done for the first time, so all that is needed to solve any problem is to arrive at the supposedly unanimous testimony of this homogenized tradition."

So if you agree with me that there is good religion and bad religion, good tradition and bad tradition, tradition and traditionalism (as I think Isaiah did)… then we could look to Isaiah 58 for an understanding of the difference. We can look to Isaiah in pursuit of good religion and tradition. Check out what I had to say along these lines, from Isaiah 58 here:

Audio>>> 

Notes>>> 

The Power to Overlook

It seems to me that some of the happiest people appear to have powerful abilities to overlook. It may be that they are oblivious or blissfully ignorant… literally not seeing the faults in others; one cannot be bothered by what one does not see. Could be… but I think it is something more noble.

It seems to me that some of the happiest people chose to overlook. They chose to not see minor offenses. They accommodate faults. With them, there is abundant mercy and grace.

A study of conflict resolution reveals a range of activities. On one end of the scale is the sort of conflict resolution that requires professionals, the sorts of things that require lawyers and courts, or possibly professional mediators or arbitrators. On the other end of the scale is overlooking. The ability to overlook is the frontline of conflict resolution… when the conflict and the resolution occur near simultaneously, and the conflict is resolved all on the part of the overlooker.

There is a lot of power in the ability to overlook, or put another way… we should not overlook the power to overlook.

If we are going to be in any sort of relationship, we simply must determine to overlook. Whether it is a close personal relationship, a professional relationship, a distant relationship, or even a relationship with an organization, nobody is perfect. There are tradeoffs. We take the good with the bad, enjoying the meat and spitting out the bones.

We overlook the small stuff because we choose to see something more important, possibly even in the distance. We remember that small things can obscure big things. Like our tiny moon can occasionally eclipse our enormous sun, the small things we bring close to our view can block our sight of the bigger, better, more important things beyond.

Overlooking certainly does not fit every situation; it can be abused. I’m not suggesting that we allow ourselves to be doormats. But in cases where we can overlook, I’m suggesting that we should. Overlooking is not powerlessness, it is taking up our power and using it by determining to overlook.

The power to overlook is especially helpful to the hyperaware. Some of us simply see more details than others, quickly noticing what others may not ever see. For some, we are hyperaware about most everything, others are hyperaware along specific categories (maybe an area of expertise, or a particular sense). Without developing a high capacity to overlook, the hyperaware can be among the grumpiest, most miserable people among us. 

Would you like more happiness in your life? Perhaps we can make a little more space for overlooking. Chose to overlook. 

Advice: We Usually Get What We Pay For

There’s an old story; I can’t remember when I first heard it, so I have no way to give it proper attribution. But I think it is helpful, so here it goes.

A landlord had an old, downtown building. It had charm so the tenants overlooked the lack of modern amenities, even the antiquated boiler system for heat… that is until it stopped working. The landlord couldn’t get it going, and the usual vendors were no help either. Someone told the landlord about Old Pete, saying “if anyone can get this thing going again, it is Old Pete.”

Old Pete came out, looking like he came straight from central casting… grubby overalls, grime stained hands, tools hanging from a tool belt. He wasn’t a particularly pleasant fellow, not mean or unpleasant, just seemingly not all that concerned with landing a powerful first impression.

He looked things over for about 15 minutes, approached the boiler, pulled a well-worn pipe wrench from his belt, made a few simple adjustments and the boiler fired up. Good as new.

The landlord was thrilled… until he got the bill in the mail: $20,000. He was immediately as hot as his boiler. He got Old Pete on the phone to deliver a few choice words. “Are you kidding me? You were here for less than an hour. You didn’t even break a sweat. It wasn’t even Sunday or a holiday! I expected to pay you for an hour; are you trying to tell me that a few cranks with your wrench is worth $20,000?”

“No sir,” replied Pete. “Turning the wrench is worth a plumber’s rate of around $100 an hour. Knowing what to do with the wrench, on your boiler, that’s worth $20,000.” The landlord couldn’t argue that… and paid the bill.

We don’t always get what we pay for… but we almost never get more than what we pay for. I think that may be especially true when what we are really buying is expertise. We all pay for expertise from time to time; lawyers, doctors, consultants, financial advisors and such. I’ve spent a lot of my own money for expertise, and way more of someone else’s money on behalf of the various organizations I’ve served. Sometimes it hasn’t been worth it, but usually it is. Looking back, my regrets are mostly associated with not seeking and paying for good advice, rather than regrets about the times I paid for advice that didn’t prove to be all that valuable.

Now when I say “pay for” I think of that in pretty broad terms. Of course the most pure transactions involve invoices and checks, or payroll. But sometimes the payment is a matter of relationship. For example, I work with a lot of volunteer boards. Their advice is worth a lot; their “payment” is transacted in the relationship with the organization and cause.

There are also subtle ways of getting paid. Take a blog for example. I monetized this blog a few days ago. I doubt anyone noticed or cared that I made some space for ads. It took me a while to get qualified, but now Google has some space on my blog to post ads. If you click on an ad, I get paid (so if you want to reward your favorite bloggers, click on an ad from their pages every once in a while… just seeing the ad isn’t enough, you have to click it).

Maybe you think I sold out, and would prefer to not have ads flashing on these blog pages, but consider this. There are plenty of times when I’ve sought out free advice. Here’s what I’ve found: free advice is often worth precisely what we pay. Thus, ad-free blogs are worth less than blogs with an economic engine (oversimplified, I know… but there is some truth in it).

I do a bit of consulting through my company (Greatifiers)… so I occasionally get paid for my expert advice. I’m not ashamed to admit it, the advice I get paid for is worth more than the advice I give away for free. When it comes to the paid advice, I work harder at it; I’m more thorough and thoughtful. And when it comes to the free advice… well, I don’t give the best stuff away.

So when it comes to advice, whether it is active advice in consultation with a pro, or passive advice we might get from a blog, I’d say two things:

1. Be glad to pay for good advice, and 
2. Be suspect of the real value of that which seems free.

Oh... and be sure to click an ad before you go :-) 

Guys: Not Gender Neutral

Forgive me, sisters, for I have sinned.

I have never been all that formal in my speech. I grew up a blue-collar kid. I’ve had mostly white-collar jobs, earned the whitest-of-collar degree (MBA), and even qualify to wear a clerical collar (ordained)… yet in my heart I am still pretty much a blue-collar guy. I think I usually write like a white-collar guy, but I often talk like a blue-collar guy. I can certainly be formal, but I prefer to be informal.

For years I have used the word “guys” as a gender-neutral term. I cannot count how many times in meetings (usually meetings that I was running, or had a great deal of influence) when I would announce: “when I say guys, please understand that I mean guys in a gender-neutral way.” I meant it as a term of endearment. “Come on guys, let’s get this done. Would you guys like to join me for lunch? How are you guys doing? Did you guys have a good weekend? See you later guys.”

The apologetic clarification revealed that I knew the word was not gender-neutral, regardless of what the dictionary says (most dictionaries allow the word to be gender-neutral as a secondary definition).

Nobody called me on it. Nobody seemed to mind. What were they going to say? I was the boss.

One day several years ago I decided to try to break the habit. I’m not sure why. I guess it was a mixture of politeness and an effort to show proper respect to my female colleagues. It was a hard habit to break, and I’m sure I still blow it from time to time, but I think I’ve pretty much got it under control. And I’m really glad I made the effort.

I don’t know that anybody noticed. But it seemed to make a noticeable difference. Maybe it was all in my head, but I found my relationships with female colleagues to be just a bit more productive.

When I pick up the occasional job in the corporate world, I rarely hear a man use the word guys in a gender-neutral way. I don’t think anyone would get in trouble for doing so… they would just run the risk of being marginalized. It could be perceived as a sign of ignorance or insensitivity; such a man would not be taken as seriously as he would like.

I do, however, hear the term used a lot in the church world. I am confident that nobody does so with intent to harm; they likely are just being lazy like me. 

If you are one of those guys (and by guys I certainly mean men) I want to encourage you to break the habit. If you do, I’m confident that you too will notice a difference.

For me, this isn’t a matter of political correctness; it is just correct.

I’ve asked women about this. Generally speaking it doesn’t really seem to bother them much… but they do notice. The term doesn’t usually carry much impact, but it does at least slightly impact the relationship, and it is always negative impact… usually just a little bit of caution or negativity. They usually easily overlook the minor offense. But why would we want to waste the energy, causing that bit of friction, for our lazy, outdated speech?

So what are we to do? One thing not to do is add something to the term. I was recently in a meeting of ministers of my ilk, mostly evangelical pastors, mostly men, but not exclusively men. One of the featured speakers, a genuine expert on the day’s topic, caught himself addressing the crowd as guys. Then he “corrected” himself by saying “guys and gals.” Seriously… guys and gals? He might as well have addressed the women in the crowd as “little ladies” or “dear.” It was clumsy… easily overlooked, but clumsy and it degraded his credibility a little.

I’ve never been a fan of doing the he/she or his/her thing. I guess in some cases it is unavoidable, but I’ve found that, with a little effort, I can usually write and talk in such a way that simply refers to people as people. We can be inclusive by specifying women and men… but it is most inclusive to simply talk about people, leaders, colleagues, and friends.

It seems that this is most important when we are in any kind of leadership. As leaders, our choice of words is closely scrutinized. When we use a term like this it can be interpreted and misunderstood in all sorts of unproductive ways.

I know that women sometimes use the term guys in a gender-neutral way; some women I know use the term regularly. That is fine for them, but it doesn’t give men license to use the term. This certainly isn’t the only term that a group of people uses in reference to themselves that is off-limits to those not in the group.

So, if you are a guy like me… come on guys, work a little harder and discipline yourself to not burn any goodwill on clumsy outdated language.

Beware: The Word Processing Department

It is hard to imagine that there is such a thing as a Word Processing Department today.

When I was an IT Director many moons ago, I found a sign like this (full disclosure, this is a reproduction… but I wanted one for myself). It went back to a day when my predecessor supervised the Word Processing Department. It was 30+ years ago and they discovered word processing software (a Data General product called CEO that ran on their MV 4000) and the HP LaserJet printer. They had one of the first LaserJets; it apparently cost around $5,000 and I was recently told “it was worth every penny.” Since they were sharing the one LaserJet printer at the College among 30ish administrative employees, they consolidated their resources in the Word Processing Department.

When there were letters to be distributed to donors, prospective students, alumni, students or other big lists, they looked to the Word Processing Department to format, mail-merge, and print. It is hard to imagine a day when it took a third-party with special skills and gear to produce a letter, a day when folk would schedule a walk between buildings to get to the one shared laser printer on campus.

At some point, before I arrived on the scene, the Word Processing Department became obsolete. People gained expertise with the software, and the software got way better. The gear got cheaper. And people invented new ways to exploit the technology. Eventually the day came when people did not need the Word Processing Department any longer.

I imagine that there was a season of frustration that preceded the demise of the Word Processing Department.

• Fellow employees served by the Word Processing Department (internal customers) likely did not always agree with the priorities and schedule. I suspect that internal customers wanted faster turnaround, and I suspect that there were some who considered their work the most vital, and thus should always be bumped to the beginning of the queue. 
• I suspect that the folks in the Word Processing Department were frustrated too. It could be that folks would seldom work according to procedure, not getting work to them on time or in the proper form. 
• There were likely rogue units in the organization who did not play according to the rules and found ways to work around the Word Processing Department, maybe even getting their own unauthorized gear.

In this specific case, I don’t know how it all shook out… whether the Word Processing Department died slowly, clinging to the perceived value of centralized resources (and control) or they were glad to distribute the tools widely as soon as possible.

Like I said, with Microsoft Word on my iPhone and three printers at home, it is hard to conceive of a Word Processing Department these days. But I suspect there is often something like the Word Processing Department in a lot of organizations.

These days, in part of my work, I’m seeing something along these lines when it comes to Web. When it comes to Web, organizations easily see the outward-facing value and develop their Web presence. When the Web was getting started it was common for the IT Department to be the first to manage things, not merely providing infrastructure, but also designing the site and developing content (it is on computers after all, so it must be an IT thing). Before long that gets frustrating for the organization and management of the Web (still mostly outward facing) moves to a unit more aligned with the marketing functions of the organization.

Then the organization realizes that even though the website may be designed to be outward facing, the internal customers use the site a lot… so much so that it may seem like the internal customers are among the most important customers (they are the customers with faces, the colleagues we bump into in the break room). So meeting the demands of the internal customers becomes a priority, all the while the internal customers invent new ways to use the technology. It is great for efficiency… but may not be as great for effectiveness as folk turn inward, neglecting the vital outward-facing work.

Eventually we realize that there isn’t anything all that mystical about the technology and the tools are distributed. It could be as simple as a bifurcation, splitting between internet and intranet, or it could be distributed among several outward-facing and inward-facing strategies.

I’m also seeing a similar sort of thing happen with video. A marketing department develops expertise in producing outward-facing video, and then the organization determines that the same tools could be powerful for internal communication.

I am very much in favor of powerful and efficient internal communication. And I am in favor of collaboration and cross-pollination in such ways in which, for example, a marketing department would serve as a resource to help more inward-facing initiatives ramp up.

But my concern is that it easy to lose focus, allowing powerful internal voices to draw marketing departments away from their main thing. The perceived efficiencies gained by centralizing resources and control are not worth the price of neglecting, or even diluting, outward-facing work.

Do you have any Word Processing Departments in your organization?

• Units where resources are centralized, controlled and rationed (even though they are really not all that scarce any longer)? 
• Areas where internal customers are competing with external customers, pulling time, talent, and treasure inward that ought to stay focused outward? 
• Policies and procedures that seem to generate a lot of friction (energy that generates heat but no motion) that could be elevated by simply distributing technology or resources? 

This is a cross post to my article on Leadership Commentary; check out that blog for articles more focused on organizational issues. 

Accreditation: A Significant Step

I was paging through my Twitter feed a few days ago when I noticed a report of a faith-based college receiving their regional accreditation. With lots of years serving in Christian Higher Education as an administrator, I’m a bit wonky about such things… so I took notice.

Accreditation is a significant step for a school. I first started to think about it when I transferred to North Central Bible College from Purdue in 1986. NCBC had just received their accreditation a few years prior… and I was glad. When I first attended, I wasn’t sure if I would stay for more than a year; accreditation meant that my credits would likely go with me should I choose to transfer again. Now, nearly thirty-years later with a lot of administrative experience, I understand the importance of accreditation in a variety of ways including funding, reputation, recruiting, and partnerships.

I wondered how this faith-based institution was navigating the waters. Experience has taught me that there were likely divided factions among their constituencies.

The progressives among their constituents were likely happy that they are moving forward in such a significant way. They would be glad for the doors it opens for their students, faculty and graduates. It would likely lead to more funding opportunities for students, faculty, and programs. Accreditation is a significant achievement, and a real signal of approval from the academic community. And such a step indicates engagement of their faith with the culture.

The fundamentalists among their constituents might not be so happy. Accreditation might be equated with worldliness. Seeking the approval of man is juxtaposed with seeking the approval of God… another step toward the dying of the light. Some of the fundamentalists might pull their support; they might no longer fund the institution, influence prospective students to attend, or hire their graduates. They might just look for another institution to support… or maybe they’ll just start their own.

Here’s the thing about this particular story… the faith-based institution is Zaytuna College. Apparently Zaytuna College is now the first accredited Muslim college in America. Starting as an institute nearly twenty years ago in Northern California and adding a seminary program along the way, Zaytuna is now located in Berkley with undergraduate students studying in the recently-accredited, liberal-arts curriculum.

I wonder what people of my ilk think about the first accredited Muslim college in America.

I imagine that there are some fundamentalists (fundamentalist Christians and fundamentalist patriots) who are reacting negatively. Should we legitimize a Muslim college with regional accreditation and thus recognition by the U.S. Department of Education? Should students be able to earn their Bachelor of Arts in Islamic Law and Theology (the only degree offered) while being funded by state and federally funded grants? 

Progressives among my ilk will welcome Zaytuna to the academic community, with the expectation that Zaytuna’s perspective will add something valuable to the dialog, and with the expectation that the academic community will impact Zaytuna, and thus influence Zaytuna’s constituencies.

I’m pretty much on the side of the progressives on this one. I’m surprised that, until now, there were no accredited Muslim colleges in the United States… so I am glad that there is at least a first. It seems to me that too much of Islam is stuck in pre-modern ages. From where will the Muslim leaders emerge who will continue to bring Islam through the modern ages and into our post-modern age? It seems far more likely that such leaders will come from places like Zaytuna in Berkley rather than some cloistered, unaccredited madrasa hidden in the backwoods.

This story is interesting on several levels, but maybe most interesting to me in regards to how steps like accreditation impact an institution’s relationships with its constituencies. Accreditation is just one example; other steps might include:

• name change (from institute to college to university),
• addition of programs (such as when school consisting of mostly ministry degrees adds major in business or liberal arts, or other professional programs like nursing),
• expansion of scope (such as adding graduate degrees, branch campuses, or online degrees), 
• partnerships with government, business, or other organizations, 
• receiving funding from new sources, and 
• loosening of affiliation requirements (accepting students from other traditions, bringing in board members from outside, or hiring faculty from other traditions who maintain those ties).

I’ll be talking to a group of leaders about such things in the coming days. Some of the questions I have in mind include: 

• What are other steps that might be perceived as an institution stepping away from its core constituencies? 
• Are there good examples of institutions stepping back toward its core constituencies?   
• Is a faith-based institution primarily a ministry to the sponsoring church, of the sponsoring church, or by the sponsoring church?  
• What are the strongest means of an institution’s bonds its core constituencies? (mission, style, culture, proximity, finances, theology, worldview)  
• Does leadership primarily come from the church to the academic institutions, or does leadership primarily flow from the academic institutions to the church?   
• How is an institution’s affiliations to the core constituencies best communicated to the members of the core constituency?   
• What are the downsides to fully embracing an institution’s affiliations to the core constituencies? Do the downsides matter? 

Any other good questions or observations come to mind? Feel free to comment.