Patience is hard work. It demands an expectancy and an effort that brings about change and transformation.

Patience is hard work. It demands an expectancy and an effort that brings about change and transformation.

The post Patience first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

The Pub and Coffee Shop

Tuesday night I wandered into my pub, Tap Room, for Tap Room Tuesday with my crew of people. Justin, our waiter, smiled and waved as I walked in. Justin knows my name. If I roll in early enough he asks about my family and week.

He knows my order.

He is happy that my crew and I are there.

In so many ways, Justin pastors me.

As I write this morning, I’m sitting here sipping on a coffee at my coffee shop. There is a sense of contentment that I feel when I’m here that I can’t quite explain. The barista, Scott, knows my name. He’s been my barista for a while now. I got to know him at Cream and Crumb and then at Cultivate (or maybe it was the other way around?).

When I walk in he knows my name.

He knows my order.

He knows about my kids and asks about them.

In so many ways, Scott pastors me.

Communion

Justin and Scott through their presence in these spaces create something in our neighborhood that is critically important. They create connection. They may not realize it, but they are building community. As we come in and out of their orbits we feel loved, cared for, and welcomed.

I don’t know about you, but I know deep in my soul there is a longing for communion. Communion is defined as, “the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level.”((Oxford Languages on Google))

If you ask a church goer what communion is they will tell you it’s the “Lord’s Supper.” This is the time in worship when many churches will offer bread and juice (or wine) in accordance with the Scriptures.

But this isn’t really communion, for most. It’s usually quite individualistic and solitary.

We long for communion, the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings on a mental or spiritual level.

It’s part of what makes us human.

I haven’t done the deep dive into the research, but I wonder if the reason that so many of us struggle with depression and anxiety is our lack of communion. We are more “connected” than ever and yet somehow more isolated.

We are a lonely people.

There is little communion.

When I show up at the coffee shop or the pub, I get a taste of communion.

I hope that when people show up at my house on Sunday evenings that they get to experience communion. I’m realizing that this is the core of pastoring. It’s not converting people or “preaching the Word.” No, it really comes down to facilitating communion. It’s helping people feel loved, welcomed, and cared for.

Where do you experience communion? How are you offering it to others?

The Pub and Coffee Shop

Tuesday night I wandered into my pub, Tap Room, for Tap Room Tuesday with my crew of people. Justin, our waiter, smiled and waved as I walked in. Justin knows my name. If I roll in early enough he asks about my family and week.

He knows my order.

He is happy that my crew and I are there.

In so many ways, Justin pastors me.

As I write this morning, I’m sitting here sipping on a coffee at my coffee shop. There is a sense of contentment that I feel when I’m here that I can’t quite explain. The barista, Scott, knows my name. He’s been my barista for a while now. I got to know him at Cream and Crumb and then at Cultivate (or maybe it was the other way around?).

When I walk in he knows my name.

He knows my order.

He knows about my kids and asks about them.

In so many ways, Scott pastors me.

Communion

Justin and Scott through their presence in these spaces create something in our neighborhood that is critically important. They create connection. They may not realize it, but they are building community. As we come in and out of their orbits we feel loved, cared for, and welcomed.

I don’t know about you, but I know deep in my soul there is a longing for communion. Communion is defined as, “the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level.”¹

If you ask a church goer what communion is they will tell you it’s the “Lord’s Supper.” This is the time in worship when many churches will offer bread and juice (or wine) in accordance with the Scriptures.

But this isn’t really communion, for most. It’s usually quite individualistic and solitary.

We long for communion, the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings on a mental or spiritual level.

It’s part of what makes us human.

I haven’t done the deep dive into the research, but I wonder if the reason that so many of us struggle with depression and anxiety is our lack of communion. We are more “connected” than ever and yet somehow more isolated.

We are a lonely people.

There is little communion.

When I show up at the coffee shop or the pub, I get a taste of communion.

I hope that when people show up at my house on Sunday evenings that they get to experience communion. I’m realizing that this is the core of pastoring. It’s not converting people or “preaching the Word.” No, it really comes down to facilitating communion. It’s helping people feel loved, welcomed, and cared for.

Where do you experience communion? How are you offering it to others?

1. Oxford Languages on Google

The post Communion, It Ain’t Wafers and Wine first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

The Pub and Coffee Shop

Tuesday night I wandered into my pub, Tap Room, for Tap Room Tuesday with my crew of people. Justin, our waiter, smiled and waved as I walked in. Justin knows my name. If I roll in early enough he asks about my family and week.

He knows my order.

He is happy that my crew and I are there.

In so many ways, Justin pastors me.

As I write this morning, I'm sitting here sipping on a coffee at my coffee shop. There is a sense of contentment that I feel when I'm here that I can't quite explain. The barista, Scott, knows my name. He's been my barista for a while now. I got to know him at Cream and Crumb and then at Cultivate (or maybe it was the other way around?).

When I walk in he knows my name.

He knows my order.

He knows about my kids and asks about them.

In so many ways, Scott pastors me.

Communion

Justin and Scott through their presence in these spaces create something in our neighborhood that is critically important. They create connection. They may not realize it, but they are building community. As we come in and out of their orbits we feel loved, cared for, and welcomed.

I don't know about you, but I know deep in my soul there is a longing for communion. Communion is defined as, "the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level."((Oxford Languages on Google))

If you ask a church goer what communion is they will tell you it's the "Lord's Supper." This is the time in worship when many churches will offer bread and juice (or wine) in accordance with the Scriptures.

But this isn't really communion, for most. It's usually quite individualistic and solitary.

We long for communion, the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings on a mental or spiritual level.

It's part of what makes us human.

I haven't done the deep dive into the research, but I wonder if the reason that so many of us struggle with depression and anxiety is our lack of communion. We are more "connected" than ever and yet somehow more isolated.

We are a lonely people.

There is little communion.

When I show up at the coffee shop or the pub, I get a taste of communion.

I hope that when people show up at my house on Sunday evenings that they get to experience communion. I'm realizing that this is the core of pastoring. It's not converting people or "preaching the Word." No, it really comes down to facilitating communion. It's helping people feel loved, welcomed, and cared for.

Where do you experience communion? How are you offering it to others?

A Story

The last few years Amy and I have been picking a word to represent our year. The year of 2022 was the word "Wait (weight)" for me. I liked the word because it hit on two things that I knew I needed to do. On the one hand I needed to give some attention to my weight. I am happy to report that is going well (down 59lbs as of this writing). One the other hand I had a sense that this current season I was about to enter into was a season of "waiting."

This fall we took our youngest to college and officially became "empty-nesters." I'm not sure how we got this old.

As we entered into this season so many people asked us, "What are you going to do now? What's next?"

For the first time in my life, I didn't know what was next. I still don't.

So, I continue to wait.

A Scripture

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”

Luke 2:25-32

A Thought...

I keep thinking about Simeon. He is a picture of holy waiting. He was waiting for the coming Messiah. I think the assumption here is that he was an older fella.

Simeon was not only waiting, but he was waiting with a sense of expectancy. We might call this, hope.

There is something about waiting with expectancy that is holy.

As I continue to learn how to wait, I want to wait with expectancy. I'm hopeful that the waiting is doing something in me, that it is changing me.

It's not lost on me that Simeon in his holy waiting was aware of the voice of the Spirit. He heard the Spirit's voice and knew it was time to to go to the Temple to see the Christ. That is what a holy waiting can do in us.

As we enter into Advent and set our sights toward Christmas, this is a time when all of us have the opportunity to try and use our imaginations to enter into the sense of holy waiting for the coming Christ.

Perhaps this season of intentional waiting can be a time of change for all of us?

I'm still waiting on the Divine to reveal to me what's next. I'm learning a lot just sitting in the mystery.

So, here I wait.

A Story

The last few years Amy and I have been picking a word to represent our year. The year of 2022 was the word “Wait (weight)” for me. I liked the word because it hit on two things that I knew I needed to do. On the one hand I needed to give some attention to my weight. I am happy to report that is going well (down 59lbs as of this writing). One the other hand I had a sense that this current season I was about to enter into was a season of “waiting.”

This fall we took our youngest to college and officially became “empty-nesters.” I’m not sure how we got this old.

As we entered into this season so many people asked us, “What are you going to do now? What’s next?”

For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what was next. I still don’t.

So, I continue to wait.

A Scripture

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”

Luke 2:25-32

A Thought…

I keep thinking about Simeon. He is a picture of holy waiting. He was waiting for the coming Messiah. I think the assumption here is that he was an older fella.

Simeon was not only waiting, but he was waiting with a sense of expectancy. We might call this, hope.

There is something about waiting with expectancy that is holy.

As I continue to learn how to wait, I want to wait with expectancy. I’m hopeful that the waiting is doing something in me, that it is changing me.

It’s not lost on me that Simeon in his holy waiting was aware of the voice of the Spirit. He heard the Spirit’s voice and knew it was time to to go to the Temple to see the Christ. That is what a holy waiting can do in us.

As we enter into Advent and set our sights toward Christmas, this is a time when all of us have the opportunity to try and use our imaginations to enter into the sense of holy waiting for the coming Christ.

Perhaps this season of intentional waiting can be a time of change for all of us?

I’m still waiting on the Divine to reveal to me what’s next. I’m learning a lot just sitting in the mystery.

So, here I wait.

The post Here I Wait first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

A Story

The kingdom of God is like a king who decided to square accounts with his servants. As he got under way, one servant was brought before him who had run up a debt of a hundred thousand dollars. He couldn't pay up, so the king ordered the man, along with his wife, children, and goods, to be auctioned off at the slave market.

The poor wretch threw himself at the king's feet and begged, 'Give me a chance and I'll pay it all back.' Touched by his plea, the king let him off, erasing the debt.

The servant was no sooner out of the room when he came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him ten dollars. He seized him by the throat and demanded, 'Pay up. Now!'

The poor wretch threw himself down and begged, 'Give me a chance and I'll pay it all back.' But he wouldn't do it. He had him arrested and put in jail until the debt was paid. When the other servants saw this going on, they were outraged and brought a detailed report to the king.

The king summoned the man and said, 'You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn't you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?' The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that's exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn't forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.

Forgive Us

I regularly pray what is commonly known as, "The Lord's Prayer" or the "Our Father." I find that it is really helpful for me to slow down and meditate on each of the phrases.

One of the phrases in the prayer is super helpful for me, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." This is a reminder that extending forgiveness is something that is part and parcel of someone who calls on the Divine.

I desperately want my identity, the core of my being, to display the gracious, lovingkindness, of Christ. I am keenly aware of my sin-sickness. I have within me great capacity for radical unloving. My sweet wife knows and understands my capacity for falling short of gracious, lovingkindness. So do most of my friends.

Sitting in this prayer is teaching me that my capacity to forgive is tied to the depth of understanding that I have of my own receipt of forgiveness.

For so many of us the forgiveness that was wrought by Christ on the cross is nothing more than a concept, a theological idea, a simple transaction. Nothing more than someone picking up the tab at lunch. Sure, we're thankful, but it's just kind of abstract.

Perhaps this is why so many of us who claim Christ as our savior, the forgiver of our sins, the reconciler of our souls, are so unloving, ungracious, and unkind?

So many of us are just like that servant in the story. We beg forgiveness and then refuse to extend it.

Another Story

One of the Pharisees asked him over for a meal. He went to the Pharisee's house and sat down at the dinner table. Just then a woman of the village, the town harlot, having learned that Jesus was a guest in the home of the Pharisee, came with a bottle of very expensive perfume and stood at his feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet. Letting down her hair, she dried his feet, kissed them, and anointed them with the perfume. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man was the prophet I thought he was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling all over him."

Jesus said to him, "Simon, I have something to tell you."

"Oh? Tell me."

"Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?"

Simon answered, "I suppose the one who was forgiven the most."

"That's right," said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, "Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn't quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn't it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal."

Then he spoke to her: "I forgive your sins."

That set the dinner guests talking behind his back: "Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!"

He ignored them and said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you. Go in peace."

A Story

The kingdom of God is like a king who decided to square accounts with his servants. As he got under way, one servant was brought before him who had run up a debt of a hundred thousand dollars. He couldn’t pay up, so the king ordered the man, along with his wife, children, and goods, to be auctioned off at the slave market.

The poor wretch threw himself at the king’s feet and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ Touched by his plea, the king let him off, erasing the debt.

The servant was no sooner out of the room when he came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him ten dollars. He seized him by the throat and demanded, ‘Pay up. Now!’

The poor wretch threw himself down and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ But he wouldn’t do it. He had him arrested and put in jail until the debt was paid. When the other servants saw this going on, they were outraged and brought a detailed report to the king.

The king summoned the man and said, ‘You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn’t you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?’ The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that’s exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn’t forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.

Forgive Us

I regularly pray what is commonly known as, “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father.” I find that it is really helpful for me to slow down and meditate on each of the phrases.

One of the phrases in the prayer is super helpful for me, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” This is a reminder that extending forgiveness is something that is part and parcel of someone who calls on the Divine.

I desperately want my identity, the core of my being, to display the gracious, lovingkindness, of Christ. I am keenly aware of my sin-sickness. I have within me great capacity for radical unloving. My sweet wife knows and understands my capacity for falling short of gracious, lovingkindness. So do most of my friends.

Sitting in this prayer is teaching me that my capacity to forgive is tied to the depth of understanding that I have of my own receipt of forgiveness.

For so many of us the forgiveness that was wrought by Christ on the cross is nothing more than a concept, a theological idea, a simple transaction. Nothing more than someone picking up the tab at lunch. Sure, we’re thankful, but it’s just kind of abstract.

Perhaps this is why so many of us who claim Christ as our savior, the forgiver of our sins, the reconciler of our souls, are so unloving, ungracious, and unkind?

So many of us are just like that servant in the story. We beg forgiveness and then refuse to extend it.

Another Story

One of the Pharisees asked him over for a meal. He went to the Pharisee’s house and sat down at the dinner table. Just then a woman of the village, the town harlot, having learned that Jesus was a guest in the home of the Pharisee, came with a bottle of very expensive perfume and stood at his feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet. Letting down her hair, she dried his feet, kissed them, and anointed them with the perfume. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man was the prophet I thought he was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling all over him.”

Jesus said to him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

“Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?”

Simon answered, “I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.”

“That’s right,” said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, “Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn’t quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn’t it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal.”

Then he spoke to her: “I forgive your sins.”

That set the dinner guests talking behind his back: “Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!”

He ignored them and said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

The post To Forgive first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

A Story

Yesterday, I had the privilege of offering a few devotional thoughts to a few other pastors. For many pastors, election season is brutal. Then on its heels is Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas. In so many ways, it is the Season of Suck.

What do elections, Thanksgiving, and Christmas have in common? They peel back the hurt in people's lives.

When people are hurting they often turn to their pastor for guidance or to project the emotions they have that they can't share with the person that they really need to talk to.

So, all in all, it is a hard season for people and pastors can find themselves feeling a bit exhausted and at the end of their rope. Some of this is from entering in with folks. Some of it is because pastors are people too. They experience the same struggles during this season as everyone else, but sadly they do so often in isolation.

As I was considering what to say to these colleagues I came back to something that Paul of Tarsus wrote a couple thousand years ago that has shaped me to my core.

Gave Up...

"I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it." (Philippians 3:10-11, The Message)

Paul says that all the stuff that made him appear successful, he gave up. He got rid of it. Why? Because all that mattered, ultimately, was to know Christ and to get in on the resurrection.

I shared with these pastors, that for us this is the calling. We get to pursue Christ and his resurrection all the time. Our vocation is to live into this and to model it for those we serve.

Gain It All...

What a privilege it is to be a pastor! What a privilege to be able to fully and totally give our lives to this thing of ultimate importance. We get to live out Philippians 3:10-11 in all its fullness. There is nothing that has to compete with this.

As we walk through the Season of Suck, our first responsibility is to know Christ and his resurrection.

Read that again.

This is our high calling. This is our privileged calling. This is our joyful calling.

The hard stuff is part of following this Christ and knowing Christ in fullness. The Christ-way is not easy. The Christ-way includes suffering. But, the suffering leads toward knowing the resurrection.

Even in the Season of Suck we can choose to identify with Christ and his resurrection.

This encourages me. I hope maybe you too can find some encouragement in it.

A Story

Yesterday, I had the privilege of offering a few devotional thoughts to a few other pastors. For many pastors, election season is brutal. Then on its heels is Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas. In so many ways, it is the Season of Suck.

What do elections, Thanksgiving, and Christmas have in common? They peel back the hurt in people’s lives.

When people are hurting they often turn to their pastor for guidance or to project the emotions they have that they can’t share with the person that they really need to talk to.

So, all in all, it is a hard season for people and pastors can find themselves feeling a bit exhausted and at the end of their rope. Some of this is from entering in with folks. Some of it is because pastors are people too. They experience the same struggles during this season as everyone else, but sadly they do so often in isolation.

As I was considering what to say to these colleagues I came back to something that Paul of Tarsus wrote a couple thousand years ago that has shaped me to my core.

Gave Up…

“I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it.” (Philippians 3:10-11, The Message)

Paul says that all the stuff that made him appear successful, he gave up. He got rid of it. Why? Because all that mattered, ultimately, was to know Christ and to get in on the resurrection.

I shared with these pastors, that for us this is the calling. We get to pursue Christ and his resurrection all the time. Our vocation is to live into this and to model it for those we serve.

Gain It All…

What a privilege it is to be a pastor! What a privilege to be able to fully and totally give our lives to this thing of ultimate importance. We get to live out Philippians 3:10-11 in all its fullness. There is nothing that has to compete with this.

As we walk through the Season of Suck, our first responsibility is to know Christ and his resurrection.

Read that again.

This is our high calling. This is our privileged calling. This is our joyful calling.

The hard stuff is part of following this Christ and knowing Christ in fullness. The Christ-way is not easy. The Christ-way includes suffering. But, the suffering leads toward knowing the resurrection.

Even in the Season of Suck we can choose to identify with Christ and his resurrection.

This encourages me. I hope maybe you too can find some encouragement in it.

The post Season of Suck first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

A Story

I was sitting in one of my theology classes in seminary and we were discussing some theological argument. I don't remember which one. Honestly, it doesn't really matter. But there was heated discussion from different folks in the class who held differing perspectives. They had sound biblical reasoning to support their position. Both absolutely believed that they were right. Both considered the other to be a "heretic" for holding to the other position.

These types of discussions were normal. Whether it took place in class or the student lounge. At seminary most everyone thought they were the smartest and the most right of anyone else there. I was chief among them. My theological leanings were different from my seminary and so I was always ready for a debate, I always had my antenna up, and I was willing to squash the intellectually weaker classmates.

I had enough salesmen in me to not come across as a total jerk (or at least I thought I did, perhaps some of you reading this were my classmates and have a very different recollection of me). In my mind, at least, I was quite winsome in my arguments. I was always very certain of everything that I believed.

This would, however, change.

The Death of Certainty

As I left seminary and finished by ordination process, I was at the height of my certainty. I knew all the things. I had answers for everything. The Westminster Confession of Faith was my guide and I loved it. In my circles, I would have fit in as someone who was Truly Reformed or a "TR." I used to quip, "I'm not a five point Calvinist, I'm a six pointer."

"What's the sixth point?" someone would inevitably ask.

"I believe in burning heretics," I would chuckle. This always got a laugh.

Something happened as I began the process of planting a congregation, I can't put my finger on when exactly.

I would sit in meetings and began to see the inner workings of churches and the denomination. I noticed more and more in the certainty of others a lack of grace. Then I noticed the same in myself. I began wrestling with the reality that perhaps, just maybe, I wasn't right about everything. Then, I began thinking about the Divine differently than I had before.

God for me was something that was easily defined, sure I knew when and how to drop the idea of mystery, and the like. But, all in all, I had a nice, neat little box that God fit into. God was a thing that I could put my hands around. If someone else's understanding of God didn't fit into my box, then their God was a false god.

Simple.

But, something was happening as I read more broadly. I was reading outside of my tradition and the "safe" authors. I had relationships with people from other faith traditions. Soon, I was looking at the box that I had created and it wasn't working any more.

The Divine Mystery

This box that was so helpful for so long became too small. Slowly, ever so slowly, I was beginning to grasp that the Divine was so much more than my box. My box was very helpful for a season. I needed the certainty that came with it. It was identity forming and gave me structure. If it wasn't for the box that God was in, I never would have been able to comprehend that there was a Divine mystery awaiting me.

For every this-or-that, there was a formulation that included and transcended. For all of my this-or-thats there was a both-and.

The Divine mystery is awe inspiring.

As I leave the land of this-or-that for the world of both-and, I find that I'm more fascinated with those around me and the world is becoming an unlimited source of story and real mystery.

One of my favorite songs is called, Faith My Eyes, it was written by Derek Webb for Caedmon's Call. The chorus goes like this:

So keep on coming 
These lines on the raod 
Keep me responsible 
Be it a light or a heavy load 
Keep me guessing 
These blessings in disguise 
I'll walk with grace my feet 
And faith my eyes

Do you notice the lack of certainty in these lyrics? More and more that little line, "Keep me guessing," has become something that I want to lean into. For much of my life I have tried to eliminate the guessing. I wanted it all to be certain, a simple equation that gave me a clear output.

Now? I'm coming to see that to "walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes," I need to keep guessing.

The Divine mystery continues its call, further up and further in.

A Story

I was sitting in one of my theology classes in seminary and we were discussing some theological argument. I don’t remember which one. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter. But there was heated discussion from different folks in the class who held differing perspectives. They had sound biblical reasoning to support their position. Both absolutely believed that they were right. Both considered the other to be a “heretic” for holding to the other position.

These types of discussions were normal. Whether it took place in class or the student lounge. At seminary most everyone thought they were the smartest and the most right of anyone else there. I was chief among them. My theological leanings were different from my seminary and so I was always ready for a debate, I always had my antenna up, and I was willing to squash the intellectually weaker classmates.

I had enough salesmen in me to not come across as a total jerk (or at least I thought I did, perhaps some of you reading this were my classmates and have a very different recollection of me). In my mind, at least, I was quite winsome in my arguments. I was always very certain of everything that I believed.

This would, however, change.

The Death of Certainty

As I left seminary and finished by ordination process, I was at the height of my certainty. I knew all the things. I had answers for everything. The Westminster Confession of Faith was my guide and I loved it. In my circles, I would have fit in as someone who was Truly Reformed or a “TR.” I used to quip, “I’m not a five point Calvinist, I’m a six pointer.”

“What’s the sixth point?” someone would inevitably ask.

“I believe in burning heretics,” I would chuckle. This always got a laugh.

Something happened as I began the process of planting a congregation, I can’t put my finger on when exactly.

I would sit in meetings and began to see the inner workings of churches and the denomination. I noticed more and more in the certainty of others a lack of grace. Then I noticed the same in myself. I began wrestling with the reality that perhaps, just maybe, I wasn’t right about everything. Then, I began thinking about the Divine differently than I had before.

God for me was something that was easily defined, sure I knew when and how to drop the idea of mystery, and the like. But, all in all, I had a nice, neat little box that God fit into. God was a thing that I could put my hands around. If someone else’s understanding of God didn’t fit into my box, then their God was a false god.

Simple.

But, something was happening as I read more broadly. I was reading outside of my tradition and the “safe” authors. I had relationships with people from other faith traditions. Soon, I was looking at the box that I had created and it wasn’t working any more.

The Divine Mystery

This box that was so helpful for so long became too small. Slowly, ever so slowly, I was beginning to grasp that the Divine was so much more than my box. My box was very helpful for a season. I needed the certainty that came with it. It was identity forming and gave me structure. If it wasn’t for the box that God was in, I never would have been able to comprehend that there was a Divine mystery awaiting me.

For every this-or-that, there was a formulation that included and transcended. For all of my this-or-thats there was a both-and.

The Divine mystery is awe inspiring.

As I leave the land of this-or-that for the world of both-and, I find that I’m more fascinated with those around me and the world is becoming an unlimited source of story and real mystery.

One of my favorite songs is called, Faith My Eyes, it was written by Derek Webb for Caedmon’s Call. The chorus goes like this:

So keep on coming 
These lines on the raod 
Keep me responsible 
Be it a light or a heavy load 
Keep me guessing 
These blessings in disguise 
I’ll walk with grace my feet 
And faith my eyes

Do you notice the lack of certainty in these lyrics? More and more that little line, “Keep me guessing,” has become something that I want to lean into. For much of my life I have tried to eliminate the guessing. I wanted it all to be certain, a simple equation that gave me a clear output.

Now? I’m coming to see that to “walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes,” I need to keep guessing.

The Divine mystery continues its call, further up and further in.

The post The Divine Mystery first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

A Story...

The algorithms on social media are an amazing thing. On Facebook for "occupation" I dropped in there, "pastor." Because, well, that's what I am. As a result my newsfeed is flooded with stuff about "church growth."

Every day I see another post about how to grow your church. I take a few minutes and give each one a look and it's the same stuff.

"Here's a can't miss marketing plan..."
"Here's a service where the best writers will craft your sermons for you..."
"We can create for you a website guaranteed to bring people to your church..."

It's all the same.

The other day a "Church Growth Guru" (what even is that and how do they have enough money to financially boost EVERY single post?) asked a question, "How do you get more people in your church engaged in the life of the church?"

I thought, "Finally! This will be well worth my time." I dropped into the comments section to see what was being said. Almost every single comment was something like, "We have created this program/campaign/preaching series to get more people to do things," or "Instead of referring to people as 'volunteers' we refer to people as 'leaders' and 'co-ministers.'" Almost every comment of was some variation of those two ideas.

When all you have is a hammer...

One of the things that I noticed from working for a building-centric congregation was that the building was considered one of the most significant, if not the most significant, tools in our ministry tool box. As leaders would plan for the different seasons of ministry we were implicitly trying to figure out how to use the building.

Have you ever heard the saying, "When all you have is a hammer, everything is a nail"?

The church building is often a "hammer."

To be fair, I haven't ever heard anyone say explicitly that the building needs to be the center of our ministry planning. But, what happens is that it is this overwhelming tool in the toolbox and you can't escape it. Every ministry question becomes a nail and the building is the hammer.

So, how do you leverage it? You create programs. You think about how to get more people to the building. You realize that to get more new people to come to the building, you need more of the people you already have to bring them. Which means that you need them engaged in the programs that you create to draw people to the building.

Exhausted...

Annually, there's a conversation that gets had in many congregational leadership teams, "Our folks are exhausted!"

It turns out when people are running around doing stuff every single night they get tired.

So many people in congregations around the country are trying to be deeply involved in the life of the congregation, but also have kids involved with school activities like sports, service clubs, and a host of other things.

Many times, these come into conflict.

I can't recount for you the number of conversations that I have had with colleagues that say, "I tell our people all the time, you must choose attending the church event over that other <insert non-church event here>."

There is much lament that occurs with pastors and other church leaders about the fact that people will allow their kids to participate in sports or other things instead of coming to youth group. And this is just one example.

Do Nothing Church

What if we could put the hammer away? What if we could engage our imaginations just a bit? Could we take a different perspective to what engagement looks like?

I believe that we can.

When we decided to create a local congregation that was going to intentionally not have a building, we also decided that we would intentionally not have programs.

You could say, we were going to be a "do nothing church."

Yes, you read that right.

Do nothing church.

We gather intentionally on Sunday evenings for a meal and scriptures and prayer and communion. Beyond that, we don't do anything.

As I look around my community I see lots of organizations that folks can serve with. Almost all of them are in desperate need of people to help. So, instead of re-creating these important organizations through the auspices of the church, the people in our congregation go and serve "out there." And, as their pastor, I try to think about I can encourage and support their efforts.

I am utterly amazed by the depth of connection that the people whom I pastor have within our community.

They are taking with them grace, compassion, empathy, and love into a world where those things are desperately needed. They are freed up to live as ambassadors for Jesus all over the place.

It's amazing how much the people in my congregation do being part of a do nothing church.

A New Score Card...

If you're a pastor or church leader reading this, I challenge you to consider a new score card.

What if you tracked engagement not by how many people show up to your programs or building throughout the week? What if you tracked engagement by what the folks in your congregation are doing out in the community by being involved and engaged in local organizations?

I'm telling you, it's beautiful.