From the New York Times

I’m sure that more than a few of you have read this article on the NY Times about conditions at the Foxconn factories in China that make Apple products like the iPhone and iPad.  If you didn’t see it there, it was also posted initially on This American Life, and other outlets as well.  It is a great read/listen, and an important issue to become aware of.

As a result, most of the people I know expressed their outrage primarily at Apple, that Apple should have policed their production facilities more vigorously, especially after these abuses came to their knowledge, and especially in light of the gigantic profits that they have enjoyed the past few years.  And I agree, wholeheartedly.  The article makes a compelling and disturbing case that Apple did not investigate these abuses as quickly and forcefully as they should have, and people have suffered, even died as a result.  We should demand that Apple be responsible for the manner in which their products are made.

But that would be a totally incomplete and inadequate response.

We should realize that this situation is not limited to Apple, not in the least.  It is the consumer’s demand for the best, the fastest, and the cheapest that drives companies to find manufacturers and suppliers that can provide services at the lowest possible price point, at any cost.  And all forms of commerce are driven by this dynamic, from the food that we eat, to the clothes that we wear.  We are right to call out Apple and Foxconn for the inhumanity of their production process…but what about the vegetables we enjoy at such low cost, at all times of the year?  Do we really think that there is no human cost to that?  And how about the clothes that we wear, the diamonds that some adorn themselves with, even the chocolate we consume – every single product that we purchase, not just Apple products, has an associated human cost that we so often completely ignore.  The problem is much, much broader than Apple.

The problem is also much more personal.

We should realize that the primary responsibility for this situation lies on us, the consumer.  Apple is a company that exists to make money, to create profit.  To maximize that profit, they search out for low cost production facilities that can meet their needs.  Those production facilities in turn want to make a profit, and so provide less than humane conditions for their workers.  And they provide the goods or services that we clamored for.  This dynamic is really a process, a cycle.  And who stands at the very start and end of that process?  We, the consumer.  It is my fault.  It is our rampant, ignorant and largely irresponsible consumerism that is the flash point for this terrible cycle of abuse.  We bought phones and produce and jewelry and electronics without the slightest thought as to where it came from, and the manner in which it was made, just as long as we wanted it bad enough and we could afford it.  Surely Apple and other companies that ignore the human cost to their products bear part of the onus, but most if it lies unfortunately upon us.  We wanted what we wanted, and we didn’t care to find out how it got to our pocket or our table.

And I’m not okay with that, and think it needs to change.

Recently, many people have been calling on companies to become more environmentally accountable, demanding that they provide a carbon footprint to record the toll that their products take on the earth.  This is a great idea, but I think we need to expand upon it.  We need to start calling companies like Apple, and countless others, to provide a HUMAN FOOTPRINT, a systematic way to prove that their products are created in a manner that is humane, safe and equitable.  And if companies will not provide that accountability, we will not buy from them, no matter how incredible / cheap / convenient that product might be.  And if you can, then I will buy from you, proudly and faithfully.  And I’m sure many of us feel the same way, and would do the same.

It is up to US to tell these companies that we will not accept products at any cost any longer, whether that cost is environmental or human.  It is up to US to think not solely as consumers, but as humans.  It is up to US to say NO to the things that we crave most, if those things were built on the backs of others.  These businesses depend on our money, our demands, our satisfaction.  So demand it:

#HUMANFOOTPRINT

"And what's the deal with..."

I am a huge Seinfeld fan.  I can quote entire episodes from memory.  I’m such a fan of Seinfeld that I even enjoyed the parts that came before and before the actual episodes, where Jerry Seinfeld would do a bit from his comedy act (this is the true mark of a Seinfeld fanatic).  And in one of those stand-up bits, he says how the number one fear that people have is the fear of public speaking, and strangely, the second greatest fear is the fear of death – and that means at a funeral, people would rather be in the casket than giving the eulogy.  Now, I’m not sure how accurate this statistic really is.  I think if a person said their greatest fear was of public speaking, and then you asked them if public speaking is worse than death, most people would probably change their answer:

“Oh no, I meant death!  I’m much, much more afraid of death.”

But I think this is an insightful observation because it points out that one of our greatest fears is being put on the spot, of being singled out and isolated from other people.  Being social creatures, we have this intense need to fit in with others and not be singled out whenever possible.  And that is why this particular passage of Scripture from Luke 8 does not sit well with us in the least:

⁴⁵ “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

   When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”

 ⁴⁶ But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

 ⁴⁷ Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet.  In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. 

Jesus asks this woman to stand up and identify herself in front of others, and we are horrified.  That is just mean-spirited and cruel.  It seems like the kind thing for Jesus to do is just let her go on her way, completely anonymous.  That way she’s healed and she’s not forced to identify and embarrass herself in front of others.  What’s the harm in that?

But I think this is a complete misunderstanding of what Jesus is doing here.  Jesus is not isolating this woman, but treating her as an individual.  He wants to see her, talk to her, and restore her.  His ministry to this woman is not anonymous or generic, but intensely personal and individual.  He literally can’t walk away until he gets a chance to talk to her face to face.  And in this way, he is not isolating her in the least, any more than it is “isolating” to have a conversation with a person where you are the focus of their attention, or for a doctor to ask you about your personal medical history.

And this is the way Jesus acts throughout the gospels, with a focus not on larger faceless crowds, but on caring for individuals.  We see it here in this passage, but we also see it when Jesus interacts with Zacchaeus, a very short tax collector.  Zacchaeus is up in a tree, trying to catch a glimpse of Jesus from a safe distance, when what do we find Jesus doing but going up to him and saying, “Zacchaeus, come out of that tree, I am going to stay with you tonight.”  Again, this is clearly not Jesus singling Zacchaeus out, but paying individual attention to him, attention that brings Zacchaeus great joy.

And Jesus does this because it is in this personal context that He does transforms us most dramatically.  He singles out the bleeding woman so He can heal her more completely, and calls out Zaccheaus so that He might change this little miser into a force of generosity.  Personally, the gospel makes us fall on our knees not simply when we hear its message in a broad sense, but when that story connects with our personal story in turn.  It is God’s love for us not simply as humans, but as individuals, that makes Christianity such a powerfully personal faith.

But I think the problem lies with the fact that being singled out and being treated individually are similar in many respects. After all, both of them require us to stand up and be recognized, to face someone squarely rather than hide in anonymity.  And because of these similarities, we tend to confuse these two ideas, and shy away from one to wrongly avoid the other.  We hate being singled out, so we do not share our testimonies of what God is doing in our lives, even though that testimony will encourage us and those around us.  We hate exposure, so we avoid being prayed for or sharing honestly with one another, instead choosing to share tidbits of information that do not leave us vulnerable.  But in so doing, we miss out on the opportunity to see God address our deepest needs.  We hate isolation, so we never ever confess our sins, even though it is through confession and repentance that we experiences the truest freedom.  So rather than allowing God to do His full work in our lives, our fear of being singled out causes us to settle for generic and anonymous ministry, with its generic and limited effects on us.

But there is a trick to being able to tell the difference between being singled out and being treated individually, and that is it all hinges on your perception of God.  If God is a Taskmaster or a Judge, just watching and waiting for you to make a misstep, then any attention He gives you will seem like being singled out, like a strict teacher telling a slow student to stand in the corner.  That conclusion is inevitable with such a perception of God.  But if your understanding of God is that He knows and loves you like a Friend and like a Father, then it is easy to correctly interpret the attention He gives for what it really is – a focus on you as an individual.  After all, no one stops in the middle of a conversation with a beloved friend, asking, “Wait!  Why do you want to know how I’m really doing, huh?  What is this, an interrogation??”

And that was what the bleeding woman failed to understand correctly, Jesus’ identity.  She trembled because she assumed that Jesus was a powerful prophet who would be outraged by the unbidden use of his power, and called her out to pronounce judgment, mete out punishment.  She didn’t see Him for what He really was: her Creator who had wept for her brokenness, and called her out so that brokenness might be reversed, both physically and spiritually.

We should realize that as Christians, we will inevitably have to stand up and be recognized at some point in time.  We are called to testify and witness, to confess, to pray and be prayed for, to stand up for the poor and marginalized, disciplines which all carry the uncomfortable hallmarks of being singled out.  But we know that is not really the case, because whenever Christ commands us to stand up, it is so He can see us more clearly, and we can see Him.

A little Simpsons reference...

The Riverside had its final service yesterday, and it was a remarkably blessed time for us, especially for me.  In the midst of the bitter self-recriminations that I have been muttering to myself, it was nice to hear that actual and lasting good was accomplished there.  There was a moment during the service where I realized that I should not be disappointed with how little we accomplished in two years, but instead, be amazed that so much was accomplished in such a short time.  Maybe not much on paper, but a lot in the eyes of God.  Nevertheless, as of January 22nd, the Riverside is no more and for the second time in my adult life, I find myself in-between jobs – exactly what am I supposed to do with myself until then?

Well…I think I’m going to write a book.

I want to publish an account of my family’s journey through the past few years, from planting the church, to Jonathan’s birth, and beyond.  There are a few reasons why I want to do this – first, I think it is a darn good story that begs to be told.  ”A young family moves out of the suburbs to start a church in Washington D.C., only to discover two months in that the wife has aggressive breast cancer that is spreading fast.  Then, another blow: the insurance company pulls their coverage on a technicality.  While being wheeled in for her mastectomy, a routine blood test reveals the unthinkable – she is pregnant with their third child.  What happens next?  Will the wife survive?  How about the child?  The church?  And the poor husband/father/pastor, does he make it out alive???  See, a natural page turner, which is a solid premise for any book, I would think.  It could even be turned into a made-for-TV movie, where I would of course be portrayed by the resident Korean actor in Hollywood…”Jin” from Lost.

Me...Kind of.

There was a shirtless picture of him that I thought about using, but then I thought the better of it.

Part of the reason I want to do this now is that I need to record all of these thoughts before they become too distant for me to recollect clearly, which unfortunately is already taking place.  Did this all happen two years ago, or three?  What exactly did I feel at that moment, or the other?  Even though those memories are permanent, their clarity is not.  Also, I know that a new job will take nearly all my time and energy, and effectively make this dedicated writing impossible.  So it seems that this a perfect time to put in a lion’s share of work on the book.

But most importantly, I don’t think that I have anything more important or inspiring to share.  Sure, I could take a church position doing this or that, helping organize this ministry or that one, and don’t get me wrong, that would be good and beneficial work for me to do.  And it is work that I hope I can return to at some point.  But in all honesty, anyone can do that, and most likely, could do it better than myself.  The greatest good I can do for God’s Kingdom right now is to share my testimony with as many people as I can, because I’ve seen that story give people great and rare encouragement in the midst of their own struggles, when nothing else could.  I’ve seen light bulbs go on in the eyes and minds of Christians who had unconsciously fallen prey to the prosperity gospel, as they realized that God’s presence and love would not be dimmed in the slightest by even the hardest of circumstances.  I’ve seen complete strangers stare at me slack-jawed as I shared my story with them, and then walk away one small step closer to God.

So for the next few months, until a new job materializes for me, I’m going to throw myself into writing and finishing this memoir, and finding a publisher for it.  After that, I will be more than happy to fade from the spotlight and take a new ministry position, filling out excel spreadsheets or mopping floors for a church somewhere.  But this is, at least for the next few months, my calling and my ministry!  I’m a little excited, and even more apprehensive, and I could really use your help:

- If you have any connections in the publishing world (with publishers, editors, agents, whatever), please put in a good word on my behalf.  From my brief experience with writing so far, it seems that it is all about personal connections and recommendations…of which I have absolutely none.  So please talk to anyone you know who has experience in that world, and let me know what they say.  I will include a reference to you somewhere in the book, I promise… a positive one, even.

- This may seem unrelated, but if you enjoy the blog, tell others about it – post links to your Facebook page, Twitter, email friends and family, whatever!  Basically, the more hits that I get on the blog, the easier it will be for me to convince a publisher that there will be an audience for the book.  So NO MORE SECRET READERS!  Yeah, I know you’re out there, you creepers.  What I really need at this point are not secret readers, but rabid and vocal fans who will tell all their friends about this blog, because I’m too much of a pansy to get the word out myself.

And I will do my best to upload new content to you daily (???) to make it worth your support and clicks.

- Please keep me in your prayers.  I do feel very strongly that God is calling me to tell this story, which is ultimately not MY story, but HIS.  But at the same time, I have never considered a career in writing, and do not consider myself particularly gifted in this field.  I don’t read enough to qualify as a good writer, I would think.  Consequently, I am very apprehensive about this, and coming off of a failed church plant, do not really have an enormous amount of self-confidence at this point.  If you could please pray that I would write with conviction and humanity, and that I would always remember that the purpose of this book is to bring greater glory to God, and God alone.

And please keep me accountable to this last point especially.  I don’t want this book to be about me, a potential stepping stone to my Christian media empire.  If this is the last book that I write, I’m completely fine with that.  I’m actually hoping that they don’t publish my picture on the dust jacket, as the years have not been particularly kind to me, especially in the dust-jacket sense.  And if they do publish a picture, maybe “Jin” will stand in for me.

(Hm.  That’s good stuff.  I’ll have to include that in the book.)

Me

As you can probably tell from my blog posts, I have been trying my best to maintain a sense of perspective in the midst of everything that is going on in my life, and believe that I have done an admirable job so far.  In general, I have been able to discern glimpses of the greater good that God has accomplished, as well as glimmers of what is to come.  If I do have disappointment about the present or fear about the future, I have done a pretty good job at compartmentalizing it, and not letting it affect my family, nor my understanding of who I am in God.

But sometimes, that is easier said than done.

I was changing Jonathan’s diaper a few weeks ago, and it was a messy one – parents out there know what I’m talking about, and you non-parents don’t need/want to know.  And for some reason, I just wasn’t as prepared as I usually am.  The wipes were in one room, and I had to stop and sprint mid-change to get them.  The diaper creme was in the same room, but I had forgotten to get that when I went for the wipes, so had to stop in mid-change yet again to retrieve them.

All this time, I was urgently telling Jonathan, “Don’t move, buddy, don’t move!!”  He regarded me with amusement.

I was nearly done with the whole process, when Jonathan peed in the diaper, and on my pant leg as well.  But of course…the new diapers were in that other room, and I had to go back in there a third time to get a fresh diaper for him.  I was feeling pretty frustrated with myself by that point, and as I strapped a clean diaper onto my patient son, I was surprised when I angrily berated myself:

“You can’t do a goddamn thing right, can you?”

Hmm.  Where did that come from?

I don’t think it actually had anything to do with my abilities as a parent.  I think I am a pretty capable father, and do that better than anything else than I do…although I don’t think that is actually saying much.  But if I had to guess as to the cause of that outburst, I would say that it came from my situation at church, and the feelings of disappointment and failure that I have been quietly dealing with over the past few weeks.  If there is any part of my life where I doubt that I can do anything right, it is as a minister, and a church planter.  Despite my very best efforts to make sense of the situation and seal off any negativity, clearly it has been seeping through and affecting me, like water racing through the compartments of a sinking ship.

I think we often are not aware of how easily the broken parts of our lives bleed into the others.  We fancy ourselves masters of compartmentalization, able to corral any pain and regret to the appropriate part of our psyche, as if it will never touch the rest of our lives.  Or else we mistake forgetfulness for forgiveness, believing that that as long as we don’t actively grieve over something, our wounds must have mended and our pain been dealt with.  Or we place our faith in the old adage, “Success is the best revenge”, that nothing will bring the healing and closure we want more than a successful and enviable life.  And with this, all we need is a good job, a good spouse, and a good house to make all things right.

We would like to believe these things, but they are not true, at least not for very long.  All it takes is a little disappointment, a little setback, or a really dirty diaper to poke holes in the veils that separate the different aspects of our lives, to re-open a wound that we long thought closed, or to make us realize that the new job, the new relationship, the new city did not help us move on – it simply gave us a new context that we could totally screw up.  No, the healing that we truly need is not simply external, to simply feel better, to have a new and better job, or to find a more attractive and smarter mate.  We need healing that is more than skin deep – we need inner healing.

It reminds me of the story of the bleeding woman in the gospels.

Jesus is on an important errand to heal a dying little girl.  But on the way, a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years, with a hungry and instinctive sense of faith, reaches out and clutches Jesus’ robe, knowing that His power is such that only a touch could heal.  And lo and behold, she is right!  She is completely healed of her condition, and knows it deep within herself.  She is healed!  But then, I’m sure to her utter horror, Jesus stops everyone and calls out, “Who touched me?”

Why does he do that?  He is in a rush to save a dying girl, just keep moving!  And why does it matter who touched him – the woman has been healed already of her condition, right?  There was no need to do any further ministry to her.  But this is not true.  Her healing was not complete.

You see, the woman’s condition most likely was gynecological, that her uterus was bleeding in some irregular way, and this meant according to Jewish law, she was unclean and would have to separate herself from others, physically and spiritually.  Additionally, we know from Mark’s account that this woman had spent everything she had to try to cure this condition, which meant by this time she is indigent.  She is a bleeding beggar woman.  It also details how she suffered at the hands of the doctors who tried to treat her – we should remember that this is the first century, and “doctors” were not doctors as we know them today.  They were partially herbalists, partially spiritualists, and completely un-knowledgeable, and probably prescribed some strange and very painful remedies for this woman.

This is the woman’s full state – she doesn’t just have a medical condition.  She has been socially isolated.  She’s poor and has been humiliated.  She has been suffering for twelve years, physically and emotionally.  It is not just her body which bleeds, but her very soul.  And that is why Jesus stops and identifies this woman, because her healing wasn’t complete yet.  Yes, by the midpoint of the story, she no longer was physically bleeding, a tremendous blessing in itself.  But Christ is not satisfied with this, and goes on to speak these words:

“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

Now, not only has the bleeding stopped, but she is no longer isolated and alone and unloved – she is a daughter.  Her raw and hungry faith is praised by the Lord of Lords.  He speaks words of deep peace, freedom and comfort over her.  And it is only after this that Jesus is content to move on, because only now is her healing truly complete.

What a wonderful realization, that the healing and restoration that God desires for us is not simply physical and superficial, but deep and internal, and eternal.  He does not settle for band-aids for us, but wants resurrection and new life.  He does not want us to simply forget the past, but instead, to be forgiven of it, and to forgive for it.  He stops, waits, and persists so that we might have this true and complete healing.  But like the bleeding woman, it is we who rush off too quickly, who assume that everything is okay as long as our wounds don’t weep openly, or our external circumstances awesome enough to take the edge off our pain, like some kind of life-narcotic.  But I think Christ calls us to stop and wait, to allow him a few more moments to speak not just words of physical mending, but mending of the soul and the inner trauma that is invisible to the naked eye.

As soon as I finished with Jonathan’s diaper, I let him loose to terrorize his sisters and throw markers on the floor, and told Carol about my outburst.  We knew that something was not right, and so immediately booked some time to attend a prayer and healing retreat, as we realized that what we needed more than anything else was not a job and health insurance, but peace and inner healing, for both of us.  And that is where we will be for the next few days.  And we hope to hear nothing more than the words that Jesus spoke that day, to a person bleeding both inside and out:

“Son, Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

We hope the same for all of you as well, that you might wait just a little while so that Christ’s power and love might heal you completely, deeply, and fully.

As most of you know, I’m considering a position as a worship pastor, and the church requires that I submit a video of me leading praise to go along with my application, which is actually quite wise.  So I’ve been rummaging through my hard drives, trying to find such a video, with no such luck.  But I DID stumble upon this  little gem, which is from way back in the day when I lived in LA:

My daughters watched this clip alongside of me, and their questions were very strange:

“Do you still have that shirt?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I still have that shirt somewhere.”

“Were you itchy?”

“…What?”

“You keep shaking your leg all the time – were you itchy?”

“…No.”

They obviously don’t understand how to rock out yet, which I shall have to teach them someday.

I watched this clip with no small sense of amazement – is that…me?  Did I really try to make it as a rock star in Hollywood??  Seven years, three children, and a hundred grey hairs later, I feel very little sense of connection to that person, almost as if it’s someone else entirely.  But in the end, I have to admit that it is me, even though that person’s life is so different from my own.  And even as I sat watching this video with my daughters, there was this twinge of remorse that I felt, that that part of my life had not gone as I had planned.

But as I watched, I was reminded of a Tweet that Donald Miller (Blue Like Jazz) sent out yesterday:

It’s snowing in Nashville. Im out in the hills and they’re looking new and fresh. Seasons were a great invention.

Seasons are a great invention, but only if we remember which direction they move.  It’s easy to look back at past seasons of life with a sense of chagrin or regret, that things did not turn out as you had hoped, or that you made some critical error in that time, as if in the midst of the winter, we regret not enjoying the summer more thoroughly.  How easy it is for our memory and emotions to get stuck in those bittersweet moments of life.

But we forget that the nature of seasons is that they progress forward, and there is always a new one around the corner.  It’s true that seasons of our life have passed, and perhaps we have not made as much of them as we could have, and should have.  But fortunately, there is also the season you currently find yourself, as well as the ones that are to come – new and fresh, like hills covered in fresh snow.  There is no sense in regretting the seasons that have passed when by their very nature, that is what they were supposed to do, in order to make room for new things instead.  Far better to look forward to what is to come, rather than spend your time regretting what will never be.

And so as I turn the corner into yet another new season of life, I want to do so with expectation, looking forward to the new things that God has in store for me.  It’s a new season, and that is a very good thing.

Calvin & Hobbes, Bill Watterson

I found you, Pastor Swagger!

One of the side effects of the past three years of my life, and especially the closing of the church, is that I have lost my mojo.  Yes, believe it or not, pastors have mojo, and/or swagger.  We usually spiritualize it to some degree and call it “anointing” or “gifting”, but in essence, it is that confidence that a pastor has in their skills and abilities that allows them to minister more effectively, and inspire others to greater faith.  I used to have quite a bit of that swagger a few years ago, finding confidence in my abilities as a preacher, musician, and leader, enough to inspire me to start my own church, and even convince others to join me as well.

I have tried to use those skills to their very utmost, paired with hard work and a lot of prayer, and yet here I am, trying to graciously guide our church into its final week.  So you can understand why I have far less confidence in those particular skills any longer.

I also realize this acutely as I look at the various job descriptions for pastor positions, and the list of expectations that candidates are expected to meet.  I see often that the pastor will be expected to help the congregation achieve the next level of growth and maturity, and I know that is much more difficult than it sounds, and doubt that I can accomplish such a feat.  One listing stressed the need for organizational and logistical skills, stating that a corporate background in managing was highly suggested, an MBA preferred.  I couldn’t even keep together a church of 40 people – how in the world would I be able to manage a church double, or triple, in size?  Another church said that they were looking for an “ideater”, or someone to help cast a compelling vision for the church.  I didn’t even know that “ideater” was a word, and I’m quite sure I don’t know how to “ideate”, or whatever the verb form of that word might be.

Regardless of whether I can or cannot accomplish these expectations, I don’t feel like I can.  And often, if you don’t feel like you can do something…you’re right, because a lack of confidence creates a self-fulfilling prophecy.  This is a disheartening realization, especially when you are on the job hunt, and are supposed to be projecting an image of someone with supreme self-assurance, confident in their ability to get things done.  Instead, the struggles that I and our church experienced has made me inadequate and doubtful of my finer abilities as a pastor, the finer abilities that it seems that churches want.

But at the same time, I have come to realize that although I have lost my confidence in my abilities, I have not lost confidence altogether.

It’s true, I have serious doubts about my skills as a motivator, manager, ideater and community organizer.  But through the trials of the past three years, I have become a deep believer in the gospel, and have enormous confidence in its abilities.  And the reason I have such confidence in the gospel is that I’ve seen what it can do.  The gospel gave me hope, perspective and strength during hellishly dark days.  I’ve seen it even at our small, struggling church – people coming to faith for the first time, or after years of turning away from God; other people being encouraged and challenged, leaving behind a life of nominal Christianity, and taking up the cross instead.  And I believe that these fruits came to be not through my skills as a pastor, but through the gospel, that message that God loves us and has made a way for us.  If my God-given skills and abilities had anything to do with it, it was only because they were tethered to that Story, and channeled through its power, and nothing more.

And so if you give me a chance to explain the gospel to people, I will do so clearly and passionately, using every ounce of intellect and conviction and anointing that I have.  And I will do it again and again, week after week, from the pulpit, through email, or at a coffee table.  I don’t care if I have to do it in front of a few or many, to the young or the old, to a person of any race.  And I don’t need mojo to pull these things off, because I have the gospel – the gospel has become my swagger.  Whatever confidence I have lost in myself and my abilities, I seem to have gained in the gospel and its abilities instead.

Now this might seem like a silver lining of sorts, a type of “Oh, at least he is gleaning something positive out of all of this!”  And because of this, now I (and you) can feel somewhat better about my terrible situation.  But frankly, I don’t see it that way.  This is all positive, and exactly the process through which all ministers are supposed to travel.  This is what Paul teaches us in the book of Philippians:

If anyone else thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: ⁵ circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; ⁶ as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless.

 ⁷ But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. ⁸ What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ ⁹ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. ¹⁰ I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹ and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

You see here that Paul has the most impressive of resumes, and every reason to be supremely self-confident – he has the right background, the right education, the right skills.  But he calls all of these things a “loss”, and “rubbish”, compared to knowing Christ.  And the word that he uses there for “rubbish” is actually much more graphic in the Greek – it is actually the word for human excrement…or “sh*t”, if you will pardon my Greek.  So we were never supposed to find our confidence and self-assurance in our abilities, even if we acknowledge them as God-given.  Instead, our confidence is in Christ and His abilities alone.  And so this place that I find myself, stripped of confidence in myself and my skills, is not a curse, but exactly where I should have been all along.

You see, I haven’t found the silver lining to a failed ministry – I have discovered the heart of all ministry.  No longer do I strive to be a multi-faceted pastor who is self-assured and charismatic and able to get things done.  I want to be a one-trick pony, that pony being living and preaching the gospel in any and every way that I can.  I don’t feel that this makes me less effective as a pastor, but more, because I have been simplified, honed and sharpened – any fancy gilded edges have been smoothed over and given true purpose and direction.  I may have little confidence in my ability to lead or change or transform, but that is perfectly okay because it is ultimately Christ who accomplishes such things, and I just have to make him known to the best of my ability.

So I’m not done doing ministry – I feel like I am just getting started.

But this has also given me some pause as I look for new work.  I have yet to read a job listing that made any reference to “passion for Christ and for the gospel” anywhere in its description.  Of course, I realize the need of churches to be practical in their expectations for their pastor, and I’m sure that most of these churches just assume that every pastor has such a passion (which is not the wisest assumption to make).  But maybe this betrays something altogether more dangerous, that churches and the Christians who make them up follow more of a corporate model than an apostolic one.  What does it say about us and our understanding of “ministry” that the first and only stated expectations of leaders are duties that they must fulfill?  What does it say when job descriptions for pastors look exactly like job descriptions for company managers, or CEO’s?  If we expect such things from our leaders, won’t we in turn expect the same from ourselves?  Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but I have a feeling that more than a few of us have seen such a dynamic take hold at our churches, and need to soberly reconsider if that is really what God wants from us.

As for me, I am looking for a job description that says something along these lines: “Must consider all things a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus.”  That is the only job description that I am qualified for, and am interested in.

I find myself in the unenviable position of having to close down a church, not an easy thing to do in any situation.  But even more unfortunately, this is the church that I planted myself, and tried to pastor through the most difficult moments of my entire life.  The deepest experiences of my entire life are inextricably tied to this community, and so it is an especially heart-wrenching thing to see those ties severed.  For better or worse, the story of the past three years of my life have involved two major things: cancer, and Riverside.  My family survived my wife’s cancer, but unfortunately, our church did not.

I think in some way, I was hoping that the survival of our church would be a form of redemption for everything that our people had suffered together.  If we could make it as a church, and eventually flourish, that would make all of our struggles worth it: cancer, miscarriages, loss, depression… it would be the sweet epilogue of our church’s story, our moment of great redemption.  We could look back at our hardships and see that God had actually accomplished something good and important through that season.  Things would make sense.  God’s great plan and purposes would be revealed.  Joyful memoirs would be written, and sold by the millions.

But it was not to be.  The continuation of our church could help us make sense of our past struggles, for it would succumb to the weight of all the burdens on its shoulders, like a running back being pulled to the ground by tacklers, inches away from the goal line.  And that has been a terribly difficult realization for me.  I prayed and hoped that our survival would help it all make sense, for the sake of all of my friends who have suffered so deeply, and for my own sake as well.

But in no way is this dynamic limited to my own situation, or to church.  Many dating couples make countless mistakes together, hurting themselves and others for years.  But their hope is that once they get married, and all of this heartache and struggle will be worth it.  Our marriage will redeem the mistakes we made, make everything better!  And then…they break up, never to get back together again.  Or they get married and their poisonous past catches up with them.  But whatever the case, marriage was not the panacea that they hoped it would be.

We do the same with our careers.  We work countless hours trying to climb this ladder or another, to attain this position or the other, knowing full well that we do so at the expense of other priorities in life: God, spouse, children, self.  But we do it because our hope is that when we make it, when we become associates, or chiefs, or superintendents, it will make it all worth it.  Our families will understand why we spent so much time away from them, as will God.  But they don’t.  Or else we realize that those things were not waiting for us to realize that they were there, and important.  Or else we realize that the ladder continues to extend upwards, far beyond what we had ever planned for ourselves.  But we had hoped that our success would make the sacrifices all worthwhile.

In these situations, we hope for an ending like Job’s.

In the Bible, the focus of a divine debate, Job loses nearly everything in life, and becomes terribly afflicted himself.  He mourns his loss and questions why this happened to him, given logical but flawed advice by his friends.  But it’s okay!  Because by the final chapter of Job, God has shown up and given him TWICE as much as he had before, more camels, more livestock, and more beautiful daughters!  (Not kidding)  And now, we can make sense of the circumstances of Job’s life more easily, that he suffered so that he could be even more richly blessed.  Ah ha!   Blessing makes sense of suffering!  The moment of resolution in the book of Job seems to come in the final chapter where it says this: “The LORD blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first.”  Good ol’ fashioned happy ending.

(I wanted that kind of epilogue too – “And the LORD blessed the latter part of the Riverside’s life more than the first.”)

But actually, the epilogue of Job is truly not the turning point of the book, the moment at which Job gains insight into his situation.  That actually occurs in chapter 38, where after all of Job and his friends’ philosophizing, it says this:

 ¹ Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm. He said:

 ² “Who is this that darkens my counsel 
   with words without knowledge? 
³ Brace yourself like a man; 
   I will question you, 
   and you shall answer me.

 ⁴ “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? 
   Tell me, if you understand. 
⁵ Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! 
   Who stretched a measuring line across it? 
⁶ On what were its footings set, 
   or who laid its cornerstone— 
⁷ while the morning stars sang together 
   and all the angels shouted for joy?

And so begins a few remarkable chapters of God’s challenge to Job from the center of a whirlwind, where He calls Job to account for his presence in the most profound moments of Creation’s history.  And it is after this, in response to God’s presence and His words, that Job says this in reply:

 ² “I know that you can do all things; 
   no plan of yours can be thwarted. 
³ You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?’ 
   Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, 
   things too wonderful for me to know.

You see, redemption for Job did not come in the epilogue – it comes before then.  He did not come to have peace and understanding regarding his situation through success and victory and more camels and beautiful daughters, but when he is faced with the identity and presence of God.  He found peace when he met God, not when he got his stuff back and more besides.  True redemption is not circumstantial, nor is it material – it is divine, and personal.  Our redemption is not in our circumstance, but in Christ.

But we are so deeply rooted in the American way of life, where happy endings are mandatory, where loose ends are tied, the good guy gets the girl, and everyone is better off than where they started.  It HAS to be that way, otherwise something is just not right, and we do not feel settled, our faith in God shaken.  But we must have forgotten our church history.  There is no happy ending for Paul, or Peter, or James, or Stephen.  The final chapter of their earthly life does not read, “But they all became rich and famous and married and lived long and healthy lives – praise God!”  No, their final chapter reads thusly, that one was beheaded, the next crucified upside down, the third thrown from a building by a mob, and the last stoned to death.

But as hard as it is to believe, they had already had their happy ending.  They had already discovered peace, redemption, resolution, purpose, and hope.  They had already discovered these things years ago, not in circumstance, but in Christ.  They did not need their life to continue on an upwards trajectory, because they knew they were on an eternal one instead.  And how desperately I, and I suspect so many of us, need to reclaim this dynamic in our lives.  We need to divorce our joy and peace from the ups and downs of our circumstances, the hectic EKG of success and failure, and plug them instead into the constant character of God.

Does this mean that I do not believe in hope, that better days are ahead?  No, I do believe in both of those ideas very strongly.  But my hope for the future is not really based on my certainty that circumstances will improve, as it is the fact that God will be with me and my family, no matter the circumstances.  I realized this during one of the more sober moments of the past few weeks, where Carol and I were sitting together, pondering the decisions we would have to make, the uncertainty that was before us.  We sat quietly, a little overwhelmed by it all.  But we looked at each other, and the pictures of our children, and I said, “You know, we’ll be fine no matter where we go, as long as we’re together.”  And we both knew that was true.  And so it is with God – our faith is not in the consistent improvement of our circumstances, but in the faithful presence of God in all circumstances.

“I’ll be fine, as long You’re with me.”

“What, they had their baby??  When did that happen?  And didn’t so-and-so just have their baby last week too?  Too many babies, yo…”

So pretty unremarkable news for many churches…but not for ours.  I, and many of our folks, rejoiced deeply at her birth announcement, and maybe even breathed a sigh of relief.  We have actually seen very few uncomplicated pregnancies in our church.  There have been pregnancies at risk of severe complications, with high chances of birth defects and abnormalities.  Some pregnancies were followed with postpartum depression, and in some pregnancies, the children did not make it safely into their parents’ arms, only into the arms of their Heavenly Father.  I have discovered that there is nothing more terrible than committing a tiny baby into the hands of God.  So Baby Audrey’s birth is not unremarkable – it is nothing less than a miracle, a cause to shout in joy and relief.  Maybe not for some, but for us, because we are painfully aware of what can go wrong in those situations as well.

And this has made me think about God, and the nature of miracles in general.  Perhaps like in the above example, miracles of God surround us, as they did in the early church, but we cannot perceive them, are not aware of them.  And perhaps the reason we are not aware of them is that our definition of a miracle is “a great blessing we experience on top of the blessings that we have come to expect every day”.  For us, miracles are like icing on a cake – we already have good jobs, health, friends, relationships, love, joy, and very rarely experience true life-threatening hardship.  And so in that type of life, the space that a “miracle” occupies is the very top, an additional blessing that we experience on top of the amazingly blessed and rich life that we already live.  And in that context, a miracle has to be truly supernatural and crazy for us to become aware of it or affect us in any real way.  If it is not, then it becomes mundane, lost and ignored.

We long to experience the spiritual dynamic that is seen in the book of Acts – “God, be the same God you were in the early church, where they witnessed awesome miracles daily!”  But we completely forget that they were a church that also witnessed terrible violence daily.  Believers in the early church were fed to lions, lit on fire to light the Coliseum, boiled in brass pots.  Their every day reality was one completely opposite of our own, one filled with intense suffering and persecution and conflict.  We forget that the disciples, as miracle-filled as their lives were, nearly all were martyred for following Jesus.  That is the context of the book of Acts, miracles set in juxtaposition with suffering.  And in that context, a miracle was not icing, but anything that differed from that dominant reality.  It was a miracle when people were released from jail after being whipped and tortured, because they knew from first-hand experience that often people were never seen again, or seen in bloody pieces.

For us, as people so removed from a life of pervasive persecution, that is no miracle.  That is a cause for complaint, a cry of “Why did you let me suffer like that, God??  How could you?” and then, almost certainly a lawsuit against the police.

No, I am certain that like in the early church, miracles surround us, and angels intercede for us, daily.  God is still a God of miracles, as active as He has always been…it is just that our context of stifling comfort has relegated those amazing works of God into the tiniest portions of our lives.  We look for miracles that resemble magic, and have forgotten the very real miracle of provision – but how can God provide if you do not lack for anything?  And the true miracle of protection – how can God protect if you are not first under attack?  And the amazing miracle of salvation – how can one be saved if they are not dying first?  These too are evidences of God’s power and love and willingness to step into the filth of our lives, but we too often ignore them because, after all, what need do we have for provision, protection and salvation, when we already have our job, our health care, and our education?  But for those who have none of these layers of blessing, like the early church, the persecuted church in China, the church in Africa devastated by AIDS, they have no doubt that God still performs miracles.

And so how does one become aware of this supernatural God of miracles, the God of the Bible, the God of the early church?  Yes, through prayer, fasting, and asking the Holy Spirit to move…but also by living lives that allow us to touch suffering more closely and commonly.  If we live fat, and comfortable, and with wide margins, and with no connection to individuals and communities who truly suffer, then miracles will be rare.  What chance do we have to see the God of the book of Acts if we do not LIVE as the people of the book of Acts did?  But if we live…

sacrificially,

generously,

intentionally,

incarnationally,

if we are familiar with suffering, and hold hands with those who suffer, then we will see miracles every day, I guarantee.  ALL of his miracles, not just the ones that outshine the brightness of our already blessed lives.  And I, for one, am willing to fly closer to the sun if it will enable me to see the same God of the book of Acts.

2012! Everything is the same!

A little under a year ago, I made a resolution for 2011, which you can read in full detail here.  But in essence, my resolution was that since I had spent much of 2010 afraid of and for everything (Carol, the kids, the church), I wasn’t going to do the same in 2011, that I would be a fearless person.  And I stated it some creative way, that I had used up all my fear for the year and therefore didn’t have any fear left for the next year, something silly like that.  But that was my resolution for last year, and I was committed to it, and tried my best.

Looking back, I would have to say it was almost a complete bust.  Fear, I have discovered, is not a quantity that can be exhausted, but springs eternal.  My fears from the last year were subtly different from the year before, but still there, despite my finely worded new year’s resolution.  And the picture of Superman that I had used to inspire me.

So I just want to take a moment to point out the obvious, and that is this: new year’s resolutions are stupid, arbitrary, and futile.  Yeah, you already knew that.  There is nothing fundamentally different between December 31st and January 1st, nothing that makes resolutions a better bet on one day rather than the other.  The new year brings new hope, but a hope that is based on nothing more than latent desire and willpower, which in some rare cases is enough to make a resolution stick, but not in most.  Sorry, but it’s true.

And more than simply being a futile process, I think it is a hurtful one.  When our resolutions inevitably fail, we lose faith not just in the power of the New Year (which is only fitting), but our own ability to change and grow as humans.  And although it is silly, there is some disappointment that we feel when we drop our new year’s resolution, like losing the Powerball, and have to pick ourselves up after getting our hopes up that our lives were going to be different, and better, all because a clock progressed to 12 am.

SO SCREW NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS.

But I’m not saying screw all resolutions.

Back in 1722 and 1723, Jonathan Edwards sat at some desk in New Haven and drafted 70 resolutions for his life, which you can read here (although in altered order).  He read these resolutions once a month in order to give him direction and motivation to lead the best possible life.  But what is important is that these resolutions were not new year resolutions, drafted because the calendar was a specific time of year, but something quite different, as revealed by the introduction he wrote:

Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God’s help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace to enable me to keep these Resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ’s sake. – Jonathan Edwards

His resolutions were based not in the power of the new calendar year, but in the power of God, and in light of His grace.  They were Christ resolutions, a commitment to change based on the fact that he was changed already by the love and forgiveness of God as expressed so perfectly through the person of Jesus.  And his resolutions depended not on his own willpower and mental fortitude, but instead, on the character and power of God, much stronger and more dependable stuff.  His resolutions were not an attempt to fundamentally change who he was, for that had already happened through Christ, but instead, to live up to the man that Christ had made him to be.

These are the kinds of resolutions that we should be making.

So by all means, let’s make resolutions, but not because it is 2012, but because Christ is risen, and alive!  If we make a resolution, let its chances for success be founded on the Holy Spirit’s intercession into our daily life.  If we seek transformation, let it be based on the transformation that the gospel has already wrought in our life.  Not new year resolutions – Christ resolutions.  And best of all, we don’t have to wait for an arbitrary day to make them, because we can make them every morning, because that is how often God’s mercies are renewed (Lamentations 3).

And so, here are a few of my Christ resolutions, not for the year, but for every day:

- Resolved that I should spend some time in prayer each and every day.

- Resolved that I will never invest in temporary things at the expense of eternal ones, i.e. no playing video games when I could be spending time with God or family, DUH.

- Resolved that I will continue to seek out every opportunity to share the good news, that God loves us and has made a way for us through Christ.

- Resolved that I will have faith in God not when everything is perfect (and faith is not required), but when circumstances are adverse, unclear, and nausea-inducing.

- Resolved that I will make Christ Lord over every moment, especially those that are private and unseen by others, specifically, when I am driving in traffic.

- Resolved that I will not let my love for family outshine my love for God, but instead, strive to ensure that the former is a consequence of the latter…*gulp*

I probably will have a few more, but those are some big ones I want to commit to, not because it is 2012, but because of Christ.  How about you, what are some of your Christ resolutions – lemme hear them!

but i think that over the course of the decade or so i have been in ministry, i have become very particular about praise and how it is pursued.  part of this is because i have grown more particular (read “cranky”) with age.  but part of this is because it seems that praise at church is done in largely an unthinking manner, and i use that word “unthinking” very specifically, not that praise doesn’t sound good, but that praise teams don’t put the forethought into what their praise accomplishes, or what it teaches.  as a former/future praise leader, i know how hard it can be to put such forethought into a praise set, as it seems like we barely survive week to week.  plus, everyone has particular affinities in praise that it is truly hard to please everyone.  but i think a few important questions can, and should be asked by praise teams every week, and across traditions, to ensure that they are doing what they are truly called to do, which is facilitate the worship of God through praise music.  some questions like…

“what do my words communicate?”

praise leaders are wonderful at arranging music, leading teams of musicians, singing, and playing guitar.  but often, they are not good at public speaking in a worship setting.  and who can blame them?  it’s not easy to be a great praise leader and also a good presider at the same time, it’s not all that common.  but at the same time, praise leaders often must serve in that capacity, leading the congregation in prayer or calling people to worship using not just their music, but their words.

and because of this, praise teams need to be more thoughtful about how they encourage people to praise, and what they say when they do so.  too often i go to services where it’s clear that the praise leader put not even five minutes of forethought into how they were going to call people into worship, or what they were going to pray before or after the praise set.  their thoughts are disjointed, or inconsistent, and sometimes a little off color.  now, i know that there is a place for Spirit-led spontaneity, especially in some church traditions and denominations.  but being Spirit-led does not mean “brain switched off”.  a few moments of meditation and planning does not preclude the Spirit from using you, or saying something through you.  no one accuses a pastor who works on a sermon for hours of stifling the Holy Spirit (unless you are from a very, very pentecostal tradition), so neither should you feel that way.  God guides not just our words, but the thoughts we use to form those words.

so think about what you want to say, about what you want to pray, what songs mean to you, what God has done in your life, just for a few moments at least.  and in both the freedom and the responsibility afforded to those who serve God, speak!  but please don’t speak first and then think afterwards – that’s NEVER a good idea in any context, and especially in the context of church.

“what does my face communicate?”

i’m okay with sandals.  i’m okay with t-shirts.  i’m okay with mohawks.  i’m okay with tattoos.  some churches are not, but as long as it is consistent with the spirit of the church, it’s acceptable.  but i’m not okay with slack-jawed, uninterested faces that do not seem the least bit engaged with the enormity of what is being communicated during praise.  those kinds of expressions, when facing towards the congregation in a church service, are a magnet for people’s attention.  it is okay (somewhat) for a congregation member to have that expression, but not okay for a praise team member to have the same, because everyone’s focus goes to that person, which again, is a violation of what praise is all about, which is for focus to go to God.

praise teams often are under the mistaken assumption that their only ministry is through music, through the playing and singing of notes.  and if you are serving a ministry to the blind, they would be right.  but the fact is that most people are not in that situation, and not only can people hear you… but they can see you too!  and many praise teams are simply not realizing that the congregation is hearing beautiful music, but seeing flat and blank faces, which is a startling juxtaposition.

of course, there is the opposite problem, where praise team members look like they are constantly in a state of paroxysm, and again, the focus goes to them.  but i am more okay with that situation because the questions that that situation begs are far different.  for a person that is super-emotional and super-into praise, that begs the question, “why are they so passionate about what they are singing?”, which, when you think about it, is actually not a bad question to ask.  but for a person that is blank and cold during praise, that begs the worse question, “why are they so dispassionate about what they are singing?”  and the latter is far worse than the former.

so…smile!  sing along even if you don’t have a mic!  but be aware that your face, your expression, your demeanor are part of people see, and so are part of your ministry.  and if you are in a state of heart or mind where you simply cannot smile or bring your face to reflect what the lyrics share, then you probably shouldn’t be up there that week anyway.

“can people sing this?”

okay, this is going to sound harsh, but this is my main pet peeve.  far too often i go to churches where the leader (usually a man), chooses a song that is way too high for any woman to sing, but proceeds to sing it anyway in that key, even when specifically told by their female counterpart that she cannot sing it.  there is absolutely no reason a praise team should play a song that half of the congregation cannot actually sing.  it is not fair, and not consistent with the purpose of praise.  and that means that praise leaders need to be far more aware of what key they are singing, taking effort to choose a key that is somewhat comfortable for both men and women (even if it is uncomfortable for themselves).

it does not do to assume that those who cannot hit those notes can sing lower harmonies instead.  not all have that ability.  it does not do to assume that they can sing an octave down – if you don’t like it, then neither will they.  it is beholden on the praise leader to find the right key, however awkward it is to play, that allows the maximum number of people to sing praise to God, even if that key is B flat or F#.  any decision otherwise reeks of a lack of sensitivity at best, or at worst…selfishness, a trait that is unacceptable for those who lead God’s people into worship.

i share this point most…directly… because it is such a violation of the spirit of praise leading.  praise leaders are not leaders at all, but servants, as all “leaders” are.  and the responsibility of a servant goes not to their own interests, their own comforts, their own ranges, but the comforts and ranges of those they serve.  what good is it if a preacher speaks in a language that only he or she can understand? (as was the case for hundreds of years when the mass was conducted in latin, a language that no one understood)  now, if musical performance and singing in a particular non-universal range is that important of a facet of your ministry, then it is probably better to create other environments in which to play songs that are more for performance than praise – coffee or cafe nights, outreaches, clubs, stuff like that.  but please do not bring a self-centered attitude into church on sunday – no matter your tradition, that is not really acceptable.

now, probably a lot of you non-praise leaders are furiously nodding your head in agreement because you see the same things at your church, and are glad that someone said something.  but you praise leaders are furiously scowling at me through your computer screen, asking, “who does this guy think he is?  by what RIGHT does this guy have to say these kinds of things?”  it’s a good question.  and i do have that right.  it’s called the “right of regret”, the fact that i myself have been guilty of all of the above, and regret it very much.

i have a higher range than most people, and have stubbornly refused to change a key because it was too low and uncomfortable for me.  why did i do that?  to make me feel comfortable, so i could sing more impressively.  i was that praise leader.  i have gone into praise sets with hours of musical preparation, and yet, not a minute of meditation or real prayer, calling the congregation into worship with words that were unedifying, generally negative, and anything but worshipful.  i was that praise leader.  i have been the joyful praise leader, with a passionate expression fixed on my face when i led… but when i was playing guitar, or bass, or shaker – i looked like i was on depressants.  in fact, i WAS a depressant.  i was that praise leader.

and i have to say, that those memories of what kind of praise leader i used to be make me cringe with regret.  so often, praise was a thoughtless and selfish endeavor, when it could have been so much more.  it could have brought people right into the presence of God, when instead it created the Cult of Peter.  it could have prepared people for the Word of God, so that it could be planted deep and firmly and brought a great harvest, but instead, it  divorced people from it, creating a type of rift between what happened in the first half of service, and what happened in the second.  with just a little more thought, with just a little more selflessness, my ministry in praise for the last decade could have been so much richer, and i hate to see any other praise leaders walk that path that i have, especially when that path is so easy to avoid.

but honestly, i’d like to hear your thoughts – do you agree with these questions, or did i miss one?  was i way off base on any of them?  i’d like to know so that i can prepare myself if indeed i re-enter the wonderful world of praise ministry!