Leaning Forward

Life @ the speed of late.

Call me weird, but I have a thing about being late! Maybe it was the way I was raised, it could have something to do with my own personal strength array, or it could be the OC person hiding inside. But, I don't like late.

Slow is a problem too. Us achievers like things to move along at a steady pace and so lagging behind is the brother-in-law of lateness in my book. Sure, I know all about the fruit of the spirit---patience, perseverance, endurance, and the be-still-and-know stuff. But, slow and late are two personal traits I want the people behind me to have.

This is more than personal preference, however. You see, the world has been re-engineered for speed. Leonard Sweet's Carpe Manana, naturalization classes for immigrants in the new world, clarifies that the paradigm has shifted from vast in the old world to fast in the new. A couple of years ago I read a nifty little book titled It's Not the Big that Eat the Small, but the Fast that Eat the Slow, a primer for operating at the velocity of the times. Effective organizations and people understand re-gearing the machinery for business in fast times. The customer service world is paced and regulated by speed. Organizational charts and hierarchies are being stream-lined for fast decisions and efficient operation. Many new congregations are governed by elders and guidelines that facilitate quick response to mission initiatives. It is the new world.

And, then there are the Southern Baptists, basically geared for slow. Tangled in multiple organizational layers, complex governering documents, over-lapping approval systems, and time-consuming procedures, we have to jump through numerous hoops to react to the needs of a world going to you know where in a hand basket. It's more than a little hypocritical to pray with urgency and talk about world evangelism with great passion when our delivery system is mired in 1950's structures and antiquated procedures. While world systems are centralizing authority, elevating Level 5 leaders (see Collins, Good to Great), vesting trust in high response teams, and removing obstacles that impede decision making, we're caught in a time warp of epic proportions.

Getting into the new world is going to require some serious thought and determined leadership at every level of denominational life. The loss of mission and resulting funding declines we are experiencing now may be attributed, at least in part, to outdated structures and slow-moving corporate machinery. Mission in this new world will require innovative thinking, precise definition, and recovery of vision that can be articulated in a forthright and straight-forward way.

Life @ the speed of late is not acceptable when thinking about our assignment. Better late than never cannot work in Kingdom enterprise because late most often means never. To recover our sense of mission and the confidence than inspires Kingdom giving, we must seek life @ the speed of God, a holy urgency that strips away the layers of slowness and positions us to be first responders to a world in crisis. I'm praying the Great Commission Resurgence Task Force report, adopted in June at the Orlando annual session of the Southern Baptist Convention, will mean just that: a re-examination of how we do business so we can do the work of the one who sent us while it is yet day.

Because the night is coming. And, then it is too late.

Life @ the speed of late should never define us.

How do you know when something is broken?

All kidding aside, this isn't rocket science! A thing is broken when it is no longer doing what it was designed to do.  Like the parody health care flow chart displayed stage right. I mean, the health care system is designed to deliver--- drum roll, hold your breath, choir humming in the background---you got it, health care. When that is no longer accomplished, the delivery system is broken. Plain and simple. It may look good on paper, work as a concept, and have a rich performance history. But, when it stops delivering the promised outcome, it is broken. That's not too profound either. The solution, I mean. When it's broken, you fix it.

Shift gears a minute. A good bit of the rhetoric surrounding the Great Commission Resurgence Task Force is about the ineffectiveness of the Cooperative Program of the Southern Baptist Commission. Much of the talk sounds more like character assassination than genuine assessment to me.  Some of the  trash talk demonizes the CP, like it was the evil empire or something. There are a few congregations and leaders who think they can deploy missionaries more efficiently than our mission organizations, and educate people better than our six seminaries, among other important outcomes. Get real, kids. This cooperative giving thing has a pretty impressive record since 1925.

Truth is, stats are down, and the trend line isn't looking too healthy. If membership, attendance, and baptisms are any indication, the expected outcomes are on slide. This isn't Marxian economics or anything. Something is broken. That doesn't mean it is necessarily bad, part of an axis of evil, or a sign of the anti-christ. It simply means that one of the components that make it work is out of sync or needs tweaking, some fine-tuning, maybe a new part or two.

There's a cause and effect thing here too. Are numbers down because of declines in CP giving? No. CP giving is down because the intended outcomes are not being achieved. One of the urban(e) myths of SBC life today is that CP giving is down only because of the economy. Wrong. CP giving is down partly because people don't have confidence in what we're doing, which is the result of not accomplishing the expected outcomes of our vast enterprise. Say what? Start making disciples per plan, witness a rise in the stats, and confidence will be restored and CP gifts will rise.

There's nothing wrong with CP giving that some self-study, evaluation, and aisle activity can't fix. Sure, the CP, like every other human system known to man, requires regular, constant evaluation, revision, perhaps serious adjustments as times change. The CP is not sacred, nor the formulas that allocate it among the agencies and institutions. Still, the CP isn't really the problem. Nor is the assignment to make disciples of all nations, or Christ's promised power to accomplish it. So, what is broken? Why all the fuss?

What is broken is the hierarchical system that manages and drives the apparatus of mission. It is cumbersome, wasteful, mired in turf wars and property disputes, provisions of constitutions and by-laws etched in ancient stone, and organized around out-moded structures and business models. It ought to be sleek and stream-lined, a modern reflection of our understanding the times and knowing what we ought to do. Instead, we're talking about de-funding agencies and institutions, changing funding formulas, reducing the missionary force, lowering support to our educational institutions, et al. When, in reality, what may be needed is re-organization, review of the governing documents, how our denomination does business, the speed with which we make decisions. The structure is broken.

How do we know? It doesn't do what it is supposed to do. So, let's fix it. Now.

Will the real Southern Baptist please stand up?

It's To Tell the Truth, Southern Baptist style. Trouble is, the panel can't discern which are the pretenders and which one is in fact the real thing. The confusion exists because someone keeps changing the profile. So, the panel is stumped. Will the real Southern Baptist please stand up?

One has all the numbers and stats to establish their bonafides. Baptisms, average Sunday School and worship attendance, number of missionaries deployed on summer mission trips, children enrolled in basketball ministry, youth in summer camps, hot dog count at the Fourth of July picnic, average attendance at every function from children's choir to men's prayer breakfast, and an accounting of everyone who raised their hands for loving their mother's during the invitation last week. This guy is convincing and good. I mean, the scorecard used to be numbers and statistics. So, the real Southern Baptist is the one with the most impressive numbers.

Contestant Number Two has the smile of doctrinal superiority. His church affirms the Baptist Faith and Message 2000, the Chicago statement, the Abstract of Principles, the Nicene and Athanasian creeds, the San Francisco covenant (1966), the Bridgeport protocols (Northeastern synod), the Protocols of Zion, and the Geneva Convention. Each member of his church submits to a four-square test of doctrinal discipline and a lie detector test of previous doctrinal purity. Belief is the final proof of Southern Baptist identity. I mean, we can't just let anybody in.

The third contestant is a substantive provider of mission funds. He can quote mission percentages and provide sub-category breakdowns for local missions, summer mission trips, associational missions, community benevolence, mission education, gifts to the Cooperative Program, special designations, water bottles at the flea market, children on mission, women on mission, men on mission, youth on mission, senior adults on mission, left-handed people on mission, bald-headed men on mission, and the red-hat weekly luncheon mission brunch circle. Orthodoxy is about missions anyway. Right?

OK, it's not all hyperbole. Even with silliness aside, the Southern Baptist profile is rather complicated these days, even more than the three contestant caricatures. Add to them the tensions between the traditional and contemporary churches, the young and old drama, the pro-CP and ambivalent-CP poles, those who line up with state conventions, associations, or particular agencies and institutions, and all the other diversities that push us in various directions, and you get, well, an identify problem. Will it be theology, missiology, methodology, cashology, or some other off-the-wall diversion that defines us.

I'm praying it will be Jesus-ology that over-rides all other considerations so that, in the final analysis, we'll seek to be like him. He never sought his own will, spoke his own words, or did his own business, but always yielded to the bidding of his Father in heaven. Naive? Maybe. Call me simple. But, this thing about being conformed into the likeness of His son Jesus is real to me. All this other pretense is just because we've forgotten to be like him.

I have set you an example, that you should do as I have done for you. John 13:15

You see, when the real Southern Baptist stands up, there should be some resemblance to him. Wow!

Sacred cows, cash cows, and the CP

Whether you call the Cooperative Program of the Southern Baptist Convention a sacred cow or a cash cow, both can cause a corporate lethargy that results in loss of mission. On the one hand, the sacred cow is basically untouchable. Nobody wants to tread the sanctied ground of something so revered. This particular sacred cow, the Cooperative Program, is a known quantity that has worked effectively for generations. Beyond that, it is the distinguishing mark of a mission enterprise admired among all denominational entities, enabling Southern Baptists to do some things that are the dream of other religious bodies. Through this God-inspired giving plan our 42,000 local congregations fund a global missions enterprise, six of the finest theological seminaries in the world, and other agencies and institutions that influence houses around the country, from the White House to my house. If it is sacred, it is only because it has been an efficient funding strategy for a long time.

Then there is the cash cow Cooperative Program. It provides a continuous flow of funding for the mission enterprise of our denomination. Yes, there have been peaks and valleys. You see, the CP depends on the voluntary contributions of local congregations. So, there are seasonal and cyclical fluctuations that cause ups and downs along the way, adjustments dictated by economic conditions and other factors. Still, since 1925 the Cooperative Program has been a consistent and reliable source of funding for those things valued by our churches. If it is a cash cow, it is because it has been one way to guarantee missionaries and students and denominational servants compensation when economies respond to market conditions or the whims of local churches change.

Both can be detrimental to the mission. Sacred cows are worshiped. Well, duh? That's the whole idea. Sometimes the sacred cow is elevated to iconic status and becomes more important than anything else related to the mission, even the deity associated with the assignment. As an idol, the sacred cow is untouchable. When the means assumes a status greater than the end, this is a problem. Further, it means that even something as fruitful and effective as the Cooperative Program can become stale and outmoded because it cannot be approached or questioned or evaluated or improved.

In the same way, cash cows are typically taken for granted. The funding stream is so steady and affluent that the organization benefiting from it has little impetus to discover new ones or explore new avenues of support. The cash cow is the ultimate box and recipients are happy to operate within it for as long as the spigot flows. So, operating systems become stagnant in the comfort of revenues that continue no matter what. If the cash cow is good enough---you know, like the government---you eventually have to invent new spending categories to absorb all the funding. This is mission diversion. Not good, either.

The Cooperative Program has become both sacred cow and cash cow. This does not mean, however, that it should be scrapped. Our noble evangelical work has been funded for many years through the genius of this giving plan. The effectiveness of this voluntary plan is threatened today because of the mission sensitive negatives of it's inviolability as a sacred cow and it's assumed reliability as a cash cow. In some quarters it has become the acid test of fellowship within our ranks. In others, it is the taken-for-granted assumption of a system that needs evaluation.

The Great Commission Resurgence calls us to review and update this giving strategy, not scrap it. Genuine assessment will examine the entire system and discover in it the resources to continue those things commissioned by God, the agencies and institutions, at every level of Southern Baptist life, that are central to our Kingdom assignment. And, to accomplish this mission more effectively, more efficiently, and with greater glory to God.

Not less.

The fear of falling

They say nightmares come in two primary and most common varieties: falling and being chased. OK, sometimes I dream I'm still in college and can't find my classes. One night it rained chocolate all night. But, most often I'll catch myself in a fall. Harriet sometimes wakes me up breathing hard because a creature is chasing her. It seems so real. So, they're most likely associated with having full calendars or being involved in issues that are spinning out of control, some subliminal urgency pushing on us. Or, maybe we had too many pickles at dinner. Whatever!

Still, the fear of falling paralyzes many people. This is true physically and spirituallly. A good many people live timid lives because they fear they're going to scrrew up or do something contrary to their faith. Most Baptists don't understand the security of God's people or the appropriation of God's provision for bold living. So, the fear of falling is more than the stuff of Mr. Sandman. It is a spiritual reality that renders many believers ineffective and inactive in living out their faith.

The crowing moment of Jude's Epistle is the declaration that God is able to keep us from falling. Of course, he was referring to a spiritual decline, the threat of apostasy, living a life opposite to the confessions of our faith. It is the final thought and instruction in an Epistle that emphasizes being able to contend for the faith once for all entrusted to the saints. The premise is simple: we cannot contend if we are weak and fearful of falling.

Here is a promise worth noting. May we allow this promise to give us boldness as we live out the tenets of our faith and contend not just through words, but in the most powerful witness of all, a changed life!

Subtle humanism

The final verses of Jude's Epistle crush the subtle humanism that makes us the hero of defending the faith. Jude's dual challenge to contend for the faith once and for all entrusted to the saints and to build ourselves up in the most holy faith can be extended to the point of making us mortals the guardians of this precious treasure. It is the subtle humanism of the contemporary enlightenment, maybe the dark side of the conservative resurgence. We act as if our faith in an infallible Word is more the issue than the infallible Word itself. You know, that the Good News is safe as long as we stand by it strongly enough, can articulate clearly enough, and speak it forcefully enough. Get a life!

Scripture reminds us that we have this treasure in jars of clay. Our human devices don't really bring anything worth while to the party. Grace certainly redeems us from the human depravity that separates us from God. Yet, we struggle with these human tendencies as long as we occupy this tent. So, what we bring to the defense of our faith is a sack full of good intentions, maybe some well-crafted words and phrases, creeds, confessions and statements, and a whole group of human fallibility.

In the final analysis, Jude understood the facts of life. He wrote, "To him who is able to keep you from falling..." (verse 24). All the talk about contending and building and dealing with deceptive teachers is the recognition that "He is able". History supports this conclusion. Preserving the Good News isn't the stuff of human design. It's miraculous. Heavenly. A work accomplished only by God.

So, maybe we should stop beating each other on the back and just look up. He is able. That's good enough for me. And, there I go again, making it about me.

Subtle humanism.

Anonymity and mobility, 2010

Forty-five years ago liberal Harvard theologian Harvey Cox released his prophetic book The Secular City. It was a far-reaching analysis of how the church would fit into Technopolis, the city of the future. Cox proposed two traits of life in this secular city: anonymity and mobility. He also depicted the two characteristics with images vivid for the time, though dated now. He saw anonymity as a giant switchboard, and mobility as a complicated highway cloverleaf. Occasionally I like to haul out my dog-eared paperback copy and just refresh myself with those predictions about what life would like life in a a secular world.

I always find Cox's conclusions rather accurate. Of course, his pictures of life in Technopolis are worn, especially with younger cohorts. I mean, many younger Americans can't describe a switchboard and cloverleafs are not the obstacles they once were. Shoot, if you can navigate IRS From 1040 (revised) you can do most cloverleafs. So, the question is, what images would depict the life realities of anonymity and mobility now. My answer? The computer console or the internet or the ethernet.

You see, the best way to become a phantom in society, to disappear fro the face of the earth, to become a non-entity, is to develop a cyber-persona that lurks somewhere underneath the fiber optics and morphed images of your PC or MAC. Just the same, in a matter of seconds you can be transported to never-never land and back via your internet connections. Anonymity and mobility at the touch of a computer keyboard.

So, there is social networking and contact with others. So, what's so anonymous about that? Well, this new world of relationships is custom made for disguise. You can camouflage yourself to be the person of your dreams, or maybe, the non-person. Guarding your real identity is as quick as a new password or limited access to your private pages and information. It is heaven for predators and pretenders, the ultimate hiding place.

At the same time, it provides one of the fastest means of escape, a way to beam your mind and attention to just about anyplace in the universe. Some people stay lost in a world of computer gaming and fantasy sports and relationship networks for hours at a time, at least providing mind mobility at the touch. This virtual world places people in exciting locales, far away places with strange sounding names, even mega-churches on the other coast, on a canal in Venice, on the beach at Cannes, on the red-carpet in real-time Hollywood.

Of course, none of it is real. Back in '65 Cox couldn't possibly dream of what Technopolis would eventually look like out there in the future. The changes he predicted happened exponentially and we're far beyond switchboards and cloverleafs. but, what people are discovering in his new age is that the cyber stuff, while cool and satisfying to the itch at some minor level, can't fill the awful void in our lives. So, virtual is good. But, it's doesn't quench.

We still need real. You know, family, friends, neighbors. An impersonal worls needs real live human contact, pressing the flesh, touching, a hug now and then, to know and be known. Humans need close contact of the first kind, the presence and proximity of others. That's why church on the net doesn't work for me, why Facebook doesn't satisfy my high relator profile, why I don't retreat to solitude all the time. 

This is Technopolis, no doubt about it. But, anonymity and mobility aren't what they were cracked up to be. Give me some human contact anytime.

Just saying---

Streaming, retrieving, and keeping up---

Harriet and I love technology. Understand this. We don't understand one single thing about what makes it work.But, we love it anyway. So, we both have laptops, smart phones, iPods, webcams, iTunes, DVD players, e-readers, a couple of remote devices, and of course, Tootsie, our Wii game system. The Wii gaming device is used primarily for weight and body fat measurement, and exercise regimen. A couple of months ago a young friend told us that we could access NETFLIX, a movie rental service, through our Wii console.

Now, this is a great little device. The NETFLIX people sent us a disc, like the one pictured, which is used to stream video rentals straight into our television. This marvel has enabled us to watch six seasons of 24 to date, with the seventh season already downloaded. How does this thing work? Don't ask me. But, we like it.

One of the features got me to thinking. So, you can stop the action whenever you want, fast forward, go slo-mo, pause for a break, move to another feature, and pretty much watch what you like. For us, that is a bonus. But, while we're absorbed in the action, the program will occasionally pause, and a retrieval icon will come on the screen, a red bar that gradually fills while the streaming catches up. It says "retrieving...". It's like the brain has to catch up with what is on the screen.

Kind of like us humans at times. I find myseld retrieving a good bit lately, you know, pausing the action so I can catch up with what is happening around me. I mean, life moves at a new velocity these days. Most of us get caught in the flow of the traffic and never get to hit a rest area for even a brief moment off the clock. So, far too often we face the important decisions and situations of life without reflection or thought, analysis or deliberation. Technology accelerates the pace, increases the action, raises the need for retrieval systems. Once in a while we need to step off the treadmill, assess the motion, locate the mile-markers, identify the detours and obstacles. We need a retrieval bar to govern the flow of information into our fast-moving protocols.

I am wowed by the marvels of technology. But, once in a while we need some old-fashioned, out-moded deliberation to navigate these waters, you know, like "...think about such things..." (Philippians 4:8). Now, there's a novel idea, to pause for some retrieval time, to catch up to things, make adjustments as the pace quickens.

It's a lesson learned from one of my favorite techno toys. Thanks, Netflix!

Crass commercialism

So, hit the pause button and slow the pace an mph or two. Set the church, denominational, and cultural stuff to the side for a few minutes and just plain fughedaboudit! It's time for a commercial. Harriet and I are taking a group to the Holy Land next May. It will be our fourth trip and we're anticipating a homecoming of sorts. And, we'd love to share it with some friends. So, take time out to hear, maybe read is a better word, our little info-mercial.

See, you may have traveled all over the world, visited every exotic port, strolled the Champs de Elysee, toured Buckingham Palace, and even enjoyed a meal in Pumpkintown. But, you have never been anywhere that will mark your life like ten days in the Holy Land. Harriet and I remember our first trip, way back in 1996, like it was yesterday, and the sense of arrival that overwhelmed us when the El Al 747 stopped on the runway of Ben Gurion Airport in Lod, southeast of Tel Aviv. Big old tears streamed down Harriet's face and when I inquired, she said, "I feel like I've come home." Yes, it is a kind of familiarity that registers deep in the soul.

OK, we're both English-Irish with Scot and German ancestry mixed in there somewhere. There's no Jewish blood in either of our family trees. Well, of course, not in a physiological sense. We've been grafted into a long-rooted vine of Hebrew descendants. Our spiritual brother Jesus was a Jewish carpenter. So, there's something to this homecoming thing. Being in Israel---Jerusalem, Capernaum, Nazareth, Bethlehem, Megiddo, Tiberius, Beth Shean, the Jordan River, Jericho---all are familiar places because we've read about them our entire lives, and because our faith unfolded in this special land. Seeing the shepherd's fields, walking the valley of the shadow of death, following the Via Dolorosa, taking communion in the Garden Tomb, standing on Mt. of Olives, all magnify our understanding of the Biblical texts and the geographical setting of our Lord's earthly ministry.

We're beginning to prepare for our fifth trip. Our next information meeting will be on Sunday, October 17, 2010, at 5:00 p.m. We'll share some travel information, talk some of the details, maybe review some of the locales. Addditionally, Harriet and I will answer questions anyone may have about making such a pilgrimage and then announce plans for meetings to prepare our group for travel.

Maybe a trip to the Holy Land is on your bucket list. Don't delay too long. And, think about this as the day approaches: wouldn't it be great for Jesus to come while we're in Jerusalem?

Can you say, "wow"!

Where the action is---

The action used to be on the field. Now, it is in the parking lot. OK, I know Citadel football isn't the PAC 10 or the Southeastern Conference, or even the ACC for that matter. Usually it's the Bulldogs on game day against another So Con opponent or either a smaller Division II or II school. Yes, a couple of times each year we get a big gig with a BCS team. But, that's a payday, not a game. 

Also, let me concede that we tailgate on a So Con level too. I mean, against LSU and Texas, even the University of South Columbia or Clempson, our before-and-after game rituals are minor league affairs. Our partiers have the stuff, you know, the tents, generators, refrigerators, grills, flat screen TVs, and portable ABC stores. But, there isn't the same volume as the big schools. So, it seems kind of---well, you know, miniature.

So, John Lewis Carpenter and I jetted down to Johnson Hagood Stadium to catch the Citadel Bulldogs and the best 0-3 Division II School, Presbyterian College, last Saturday evening after seventhday worship. Well, the game was delayed for thirty minutes because of a Charleston sprinkle, a biblical deluge of several inches. So, we got to hang out in the parking lot with the tailgaters. This, Knute, is where the action is. The Crops (only grads will get this one) were marching in, the teams were in pre-game prep, parents were lining the street, and the loyal fans were having a toddy, shrimp and grits, and other delectables at their tailgate bistro. The generators were humming, coolers were cooling, grills were grilling, the pickles were getting more pickled, and so were some of the people. Getting pickled, I mean. It was party central, So Con style, southern fried, and a good bit of Southern Comfort too.

Eventually JL and I made it to the gate, rendered our tickets, and went to our fine seats, provided by classmate Dan Merle. It was a nice night, John Lewis loved his hot dog and cold drink and the game was good. Of course, his attention span was expired when we left about half-way through the second quarter. Imagine our surprise when we saw how many fans were still in the parking lot, enjoying their adult beverages, barbecue, and other games on TV. The action was still in the parking lot. It has moved from pre-and-post game action to parking lot fanaticism during mid-game. It's a new twist on modern day football. Half the fans are still in the parking lot.

This is the social networking thing again. Some people don't get it, but relationships matter. I mean, Citadel fans, even Citadel grads, known for their school loyalty and class bonds, don't drive in from all over South Carolina to go to a football game. It's about the connections. Whether in the parking lot, or up in the club rooms, or in the luxury boxes, people make the trip for the connections. The game is secondary, maybe incidental to the real action. It is a way to be engaged with the school but, more importantly, maintain those lifetime relationships that matter. When all is said and done, most of us won't remember the score of the game last Saturday. But, we'll remember seeing our friends. That's the deal. Some tailgate stories are about as legendary as on-the-field heroics.

Reminds me a little of church. What we do here is significant. Studying the Bible, being inspired by the music, serving together, being challenged by a fresh message, are all meaningful elements of our shared experience and consequential to our personal faith and national ethos. If not, we're not doing church. Still, birds of a feather flock together. It is the encouragement of meeting that usually draws us here, the power of relationships. It is why I am thankful for a congregation that likes being together, that celebrates our fellowship, that values the human element. It's just a piece of the action, and not really the most important part. Who can top what God gives, how He feeds and nurtures us, how He fills us? But, it is sweet fellowship. And, we must acknowledge how important it is to our spiritual lives and personal development.

It's why colleges spend so much money on their parking facilities, why fans buy all of the tailgating stuff, and why people drive across the state six or seven weekends a year. This is social networking, college style. And, it's also why churches have greeters, parking lot attendants, welcome rituals, and all the smiles and best-foot forward jazz. It is because, like it or not, this is where the action is.

Didn't the Psalmist say, "I was glad when they said to me, let us go to the house of the Lord"? I mean he did say "glad" and "us" didn't he?

Yaaay God!