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.