When I work with leadership groups in congregations, I am often in awe of their individual stories. I learn about all kinds of vocation. Mothers with an artistic flair, health care workers who help cure disease and play saxophone, soldiers who give their passion and leadership in between deployments, dead-eye shot farmers, trucker theologians, ice-water veined CEOs, insightful entrepreneurs. God gives them the gifts to do these amazing things. They love God. They love their church. They do whatever they can to help the church to do good ministry.
At least 90% of them cannot state why they are serving in their particular position in church.
It's hard for me to imagine how such talented people with such a strong sense of purpose in other areas of their lives settle for such meandering when it comes to the direction of the church.
Maybe it's because making a decision cuts off other possibilities, possibilities that may hurt another human being, and that's not Christian. Maybe.
Congregations often can't decide what their board should be--a representative group or a leadership group. For the life of me, I can't figure out a good reason why a church board needs more people present (this doesn't mean I am against public meetings, only meetings where so many are required to attend). As if more people in the bureaucracy means more frequent and faithful ministry. I believe a church board is best served with five people (seven at the most), with energy directed toward being transparent about ideas and decisions, rather than creating more structure. Yet, time after time, I find boards with 13, 15, 17, 20+ people on them (probably related to a representation understanding). The meetings are frequent, long and arduous. People serve them out of a sense of duty (which is not a bad thing), but it is misplaced energy. People are busy. Regular, frequent meetings might have been a way to bring people together in the past, but that train already departed. If the goal is fellowship and contact, don't facilitate the gathering under the guise of a business meeting, go for fellowship.
I remember in my early years of ministry, there was a movement to make church boards into small spiritual communities. In some ways, that trend was like putting pearls on a pig. The idea did not address the underlying problem. The structure of the church was not serving joyful ministry. The members ended up serving the structure of the church. Joy departed. Fatigue and discouragement spread. I remember an alert about the pitfalls of building up church boards as opposed to congregational ministry and discipleship, which began my search to convert the countless hours I spent attending time wasting meetings and missing opportunities to spend evening time with my family.
Jesus once said that Sabbath was made for humankind, not the other way around (Mark 2: 23-28). Congregations place too much energy in serving their structures. Serving structures makes the congregation more susceptible to power plays. Congregations may find more joy if they find their joy in ministry as opposed to bureaucratic wrangling. Once congregations can claim where they find joy in ministry, then they can determine what kind of structure their congregation needs.
I find new light when I find a congregation with the courage to find their joy in serving God and release themselves from serving a structure. Jesus did not say that Sabbath was bad, and that is was good when it served abundant life, rather than as a weapon for the powerful. Structure for a church is not bad, but it easily become an idol, and a despised one at that.
What do you see in your congregational boards?
Showing posts with label accountability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label accountability. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Take your pick: movement or institution?
Is it better to be part of a movement or an institution?
Once again, Seth Godin has me thinking about factories. During this time of economic restlessness and ennui, some call for America to return to its industrial revolution days and make things. When America made things, many people had steady paychecks and pensions. Middle-class America worked hard, saved money and many sent their kids to college, trade school, or set their children up for a good life. Institutions felt safe.
The church participated in the world of factories, too. In my Lutheran church world, good children of Northern European immigrants worked hard, canned vegetables and fruit, saved their money, and sent their children to Lutheran colleges (hat tip to Garrison Keillor to help me understand the cultural history of my tradition), which theology and religion departments served as factory feeders for Lutheran seminaries. That world was changing when I attended a Lutheran seminary in the 1990's; we were told that demographics were shifting, and more seminary students were coming from state colleges and universities than every before, quickly approaching 50 percent. I remember there were adjustments to the factory. Paul Sponheim told one of my classes that he used to be able to count on seminary students having a solid background in philosophy, but no more. He adjusted by giving a 2-3 lecture survey of philosophy. There was some flexibility in the institution, but it was hard.
I became a pastor/product of a Lutheran seminary, prepared to enter other smaller factories including the ELCA Board of Pensions, Thrivent Financial for Lutherans (formerly Aid Association for Lutherans and Lutheran Brotherhood), and a series of congregational factories producing meetings of all kinds, including Women of the ELCA, church councils, Sunday School, and a whole host of committees. The idea was that if I faithfully participated in all of these institutions, I will be assured to have money to live on after my working days are done.
There are still places where the factory/institution of church still exists, and often times it is supported by the culture or demographics. Sometimes the institution is supported by hard working and intelligent leaders. However, in many places (I live in one of these places), Lutheran and other Mainline/Oldline Protestant traditions are part of crumbling institutions; there is no guarantee of security for any pastor or church professional. Some of my colleagues long for the institutional days of security. Some are angry at the culture. Some are angry at other colleagues for making the church what it is today and question their faithfulness or their understanding of theology or tradition.
One of my good friends and colleagues invited me to a discussion about 5 years ago regarding his tradition. He was part of a relatively new tradition, full of passionate people and congregations. People had toiled and worked tirelessly to develop a movement of grace, hospitality and justice. Some people who had been working in the grass roots of the movement were concerned about the continuation of the movement for generations to come. Pensions, health insurance, and constitutions became part of meetings and regular discussion. What was once a movement was becoming an institution. What was once full of energy, passion and care became meetings with minutes and boredom.
What happened?
I am not writing today to decry institutions. I am curious about society and the church of which I am a part, and our over-dependence and skewed expectations of institutions to make life good. I appreciate many institutions in my life that helped provide for me in my life. From government safety nets, to church organizations, to educational systems and to congregations, I am thankful for the generosity of God and the collective work of many. The problem is that institutions exist to self-preserve, and my understanding of following Christ is that our attention is directed toward God and neighbor, and that our institutions, at least in the understanding of Christian faith never exist for the sake of themselves, only that they turn our attention toward God and neighbor--that is a movement.
Are movements and institutions mutually exclusive? Can an institution behave like a movement or beget a movement? After my first season of ministry (about 12 years) studying and being the church as an institution, is it possible to be the church as a movement? Do movement-minded people abandon the institution? Do institution-minded people shun the movements? I do not know the answer to these questions, but I do know that my desire for security sometimes keeps me from challenging myself and others (wouldn't want to risk my pension), so I am willing to uphold the church factory system while I happily attempt to break through it. We don't live in a factory society anymore, but my fellow citizens and I behave like we do. The big problem is, regardless of institution or movement, I am a person of mixed motives and allegiances. But I also know that God does something even with the mixed motive people. Thanks be to God.
Once again, Seth Godin has me thinking about factories. During this time of economic restlessness and ennui, some call for America to return to its industrial revolution days and make things. When America made things, many people had steady paychecks and pensions. Middle-class America worked hard, saved money and many sent their kids to college, trade school, or set their children up for a good life. Institutions felt safe.
The church participated in the world of factories, too. In my Lutheran church world, good children of Northern European immigrants worked hard, canned vegetables and fruit, saved their money, and sent their children to Lutheran colleges (hat tip to Garrison Keillor to help me understand the cultural history of my tradition), which theology and religion departments served as factory feeders for Lutheran seminaries. That world was changing when I attended a Lutheran seminary in the 1990's; we were told that demographics were shifting, and more seminary students were coming from state colleges and universities than every before, quickly approaching 50 percent. I remember there were adjustments to the factory. Paul Sponheim told one of my classes that he used to be able to count on seminary students having a solid background in philosophy, but no more. He adjusted by giving a 2-3 lecture survey of philosophy. There was some flexibility in the institution, but it was hard.
I became a pastor/product of a Lutheran seminary, prepared to enter other smaller factories including the ELCA Board of Pensions, Thrivent Financial for Lutherans (formerly Aid Association for Lutherans and Lutheran Brotherhood), and a series of congregational factories producing meetings of all kinds, including Women of the ELCA, church councils, Sunday School, and a whole host of committees. The idea was that if I faithfully participated in all of these institutions, I will be assured to have money to live on after my working days are done.
There are still places where the factory/institution of church still exists, and often times it is supported by the culture or demographics. Sometimes the institution is supported by hard working and intelligent leaders. However, in many places (I live in one of these places), Lutheran and other Mainline/Oldline Protestant traditions are part of crumbling institutions; there is no guarantee of security for any pastor or church professional. Some of my colleagues long for the institutional days of security. Some are angry at the culture. Some are angry at other colleagues for making the church what it is today and question their faithfulness or their understanding of theology or tradition.
One of my good friends and colleagues invited me to a discussion about 5 years ago regarding his tradition. He was part of a relatively new tradition, full of passionate people and congregations. People had toiled and worked tirelessly to develop a movement of grace, hospitality and justice. Some people who had been working in the grass roots of the movement were concerned about the continuation of the movement for generations to come. Pensions, health insurance, and constitutions became part of meetings and regular discussion. What was once a movement was becoming an institution. What was once full of energy, passion and care became meetings with minutes and boredom.
What happened?
I am not writing today to decry institutions. I am curious about society and the church of which I am a part, and our over-dependence and skewed expectations of institutions to make life good. I appreciate many institutions in my life that helped provide for me in my life. From government safety nets, to church organizations, to educational systems and to congregations, I am thankful for the generosity of God and the collective work of many. The problem is that institutions exist to self-preserve, and my understanding of following Christ is that our attention is directed toward God and neighbor, and that our institutions, at least in the understanding of Christian faith never exist for the sake of themselves, only that they turn our attention toward God and neighbor--that is a movement.
Are movements and institutions mutually exclusive? Can an institution behave like a movement or beget a movement? After my first season of ministry (about 12 years) studying and being the church as an institution, is it possible to be the church as a movement? Do movement-minded people abandon the institution? Do institution-minded people shun the movements? I do not know the answer to these questions, but I do know that my desire for security sometimes keeps me from challenging myself and others (wouldn't want to risk my pension), so I am willing to uphold the church factory system while I happily attempt to break through it. We don't live in a factory society anymore, but my fellow citizens and I behave like we do. The big problem is, regardless of institution or movement, I am a person of mixed motives and allegiances. But I also know that God does something even with the mixed motive people. Thanks be to God.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Staring off into the clouds (of witnesses)
Today I've been working with theory and practice related to sociology of religion. I love this stuff. Almost can't get enough of it. Especially when something happens in the daily activity of ministry, and I visualize a constructing bridge cantilevering over the chasm between academia and ministry. Three hours of thinking, posting, praying, reading. It felt like 15 minutes. I was in a zone, in a place for me where I know the Holy Spirit resides. It doesn't get much better than that for me.
Today was also the day my oldest daughter had her first day of school. I remember watching The Cosby Show as a kid and the celebration Cliff and Claire Huxtable used to have on the first day of school. I was feeling that. I love my daughter, and I will miss her while she is at school in a matter of days. A little lost in the shuffle is my 4 year old, who doesn't start preschool until next week. She kept coming in to talk to me (as she is prone to do) while I was giddy with idea flow, and I was too dismissive of her conversation. I looked to the heavens for a little insight, and I remembered a teacher of mine who spoke to me from the cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1).
The cloud of witnesses are supposed to be the heroes of the faith. This was not my favorite teacher, one that often perturbed me. However, I remembered some wise words I received about how he was once taught that church life and pursuits always came first in ministry, and following that was the most significant regret in a life of ministry. The cloud of witnesses and the Holy Spirit directed me to get on my knees, look my daughter in the eye and say "Let's play a game. How about Candy Land?" I was moved to think about how she moved into the cloud of witnesses. That cloud allowed me to be thankful for the joy in the presence of God, joy in the flow of ideas, and joy in the simple connection of the moment. All in the midst of things that could have just as easily annoyed me. Thanks be to God.
Today was also the day my oldest daughter had her first day of school. I remember watching The Cosby Show as a kid and the celebration Cliff and Claire Huxtable used to have on the first day of school. I was feeling that. I love my daughter, and I will miss her while she is at school in a matter of days. A little lost in the shuffle is my 4 year old, who doesn't start preschool until next week. She kept coming in to talk to me (as she is prone to do) while I was giddy with idea flow, and I was too dismissive of her conversation. I looked to the heavens for a little insight, and I remembered a teacher of mine who spoke to me from the cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1).
The cloud of witnesses are supposed to be the heroes of the faith. This was not my favorite teacher, one that often perturbed me. However, I remembered some wise words I received about how he was once taught that church life and pursuits always came first in ministry, and following that was the most significant regret in a life of ministry. The cloud of witnesses and the Holy Spirit directed me to get on my knees, look my daughter in the eye and say "Let's play a game. How about Candy Land?" I was moved to think about how she moved into the cloud of witnesses. That cloud allowed me to be thankful for the joy in the presence of God, joy in the flow of ideas, and joy in the simple connection of the moment. All in the midst of things that could have just as easily annoyed me. Thanks be to God.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Underrated in Congregational Life: Accountability
Accountability is a loaded term for congregations, for both pastors and members.
It's hard to serve in a congregation in any capacity because it can feel like every member is a boss. However, ministries can go on for multiple years while accomplishing little. My wife and I have often discussed the concept that pastors (and other ministry professionals) work in a high-expectation, low-structure positions. I would argue that this is the nature of congregational life. Expectations are high, but the structure of meeting those expectations often lacks cohesiveness. People in ministry may feel accountable, but the accountability in ministry is often rooted in personal preferences as opposed to shared principles. Therefore, I believe accountability in congregational life is underrated.
Peter Steinke often says about congregations that they "tolerate too much bad behavior in the name Jesus." This applies to the entire congregation. Bad behavior in many forms is often tolerated it because supposedly it's the "Christian" thing to do. Bad behavior can take on many forms--verbal, sexual and spiritual abuse, underperformance, insubordination, destructive communication, sabotage, etc. To set up accountability structures can seem too corporate, and not becoming of an intimate family (I have concerns about the image of family in congregational life, but that's for another post). Even families have boundaries for appropriate behavior. Congregations and ministry professionals have a fear of accountability, because it can be risky for relationships in the short term, but in the long term, it allows each member of the Body of Christ the space to thrive.
Some congregations lack shared accountability. A pastor or ministry professional may act in an authoritarian fashion. A congregational leadership may deliver a list of expectations to a ministry leader without flexibility. Once a congregation moves toward accountability, a shared approach will provide stronger paths to communication, because boundaries need to be renegotiated from time to time.
Accountability is underrated because many congregations are often beholden to preferences and tolerant of bad behavior from pastors and congregation members alike. I hope that congregations can work together toward a shared accountability. It is a move with the risk.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It's hard to serve in a congregation in any capacity because it can feel like every member is a boss. However, ministries can go on for multiple years while accomplishing little. My wife and I have often discussed the concept that pastors (and other ministry professionals) work in a high-expectation, low-structure positions. I would argue that this is the nature of congregational life. Expectations are high, but the structure of meeting those expectations often lacks cohesiveness. People in ministry may feel accountable, but the accountability in ministry is often rooted in personal preferences as opposed to shared principles. Therefore, I believe accountability in congregational life is underrated.
Peter Steinke often says about congregations that they "tolerate too much bad behavior in the name Jesus." This applies to the entire congregation. Bad behavior in many forms is often tolerated it because supposedly it's the "Christian" thing to do. Bad behavior can take on many forms--verbal, sexual and spiritual abuse, underperformance, insubordination, destructive communication, sabotage, etc. To set up accountability structures can seem too corporate, and not becoming of an intimate family (I have concerns about the image of family in congregational life, but that's for another post). Even families have boundaries for appropriate behavior. Congregations and ministry professionals have a fear of accountability, because it can be risky for relationships in the short term, but in the long term, it allows each member of the Body of Christ the space to thrive.
Some congregations lack shared accountability. A pastor or ministry professional may act in an authoritarian fashion. A congregational leadership may deliver a list of expectations to a ministry leader without flexibility. Once a congregation moves toward accountability, a shared approach will provide stronger paths to communication, because boundaries need to be renegotiated from time to time.
Accountability is underrated because many congregations are often beholden to preferences and tolerant of bad behavior from pastors and congregation members alike. I hope that congregations can work together toward a shared accountability. It is a move with the risk.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Mckinley Ave,Tacoma,United States
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Overrated in Congregational Life: Politics, Relationships and Moving Forward with Church Office Space
Today's guest blogger, Dr. Kirk Jeffery is a church growth consultant. He works with all sizes of congregations. He spent fifteen years in local parish ministry as an Elder in The United Methodist Church. He did his doctoral work at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey in Postmodern Ecclesiology. He also roasts and sells coffee. www.kirkjeffery.com. Follow Kirk on Twitter @KirkJeffery.
Joe Smith, in a related blog post, suggested that there is too much infrastructure surrounding a pastor’s study, and that it really has little place in ministry in the twenty-first century. I completely agree.
The pastor’s study was envisioned for a time past, when people flocked to the church, when clergy were among the best educated in the community, when the pastor was required to tote around a vast library of books and those books contained the basis for the answers the congregation and the broader community were seeking.
Today the pastor’s study seems to be more a limiting feature of ministry than an empowering one. If I had my way, I would eliminate it from the church entirely, as an outmoded, non-useful space. It seems that it serves only to have a space where a small group of parishioners can keep a watchful eye on what the pastor is up to—for if our pastor is in his/her office, then we know that he/she is working. Ug. The thought that true ministry happens within the confines of the four walls of the pastor’s study makes me sick.
However, let me caution any would-be study-tossers, especially if you are in your first five years of ministry in your local context. Let me share some valuable first-hand insights on office space.
I once served a parish that had rented out the majority of the church to a daycare facility which used the space Monday-Friday from 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. When I first got there, there was a lot of consternation by folks that felt that they had lost their space. The women’s group couldn’t use the space for their monthly mid-day meeting. It was difficult to schedule weekly mid-day Bible studies. Committees couldn’t meet until 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. The daycare always left the space a mess.
I thought I had a great solution… We would turn the pastor’s study into a dedicated classroom and mid-day meeting space. The pastor’s study was not a great space for a pastor anyway (it had sexual safety issues—no windows). I would work from home and the local coffee shop. I would meet with folks in their homes, in the coffee bars, in the beer bars! With the advent of cell phones, free internet, and my laptop computer, I felt that ministry could, and should take place anywhere. And it did.
The problem that I encountered was that I had not been there long enough to build up trust. For the twelve people who regularly popped into the church and office to do their various business and mission, it was a huge issue that I wasn’t where they could see me. And if they couldn’t see me, I obviously wasn’t working.
The key to being able to move out of the pastor’s study is trust. As pastor, you will have to build enough trust within the congregation to let them let you move out of the pastor’s study and into the community. This process is not measured in months, but rather two to five years of hard, office, pencil pushing work. Once they know that you actually work, moving out of the office will not be such a big deal. But they have to trust you first.
If you decide that you really want to move out, I suggest that you take these steps:
1) Talk with the power brokers in the church, the ones who nod yes and it happens and who shake their head no and it doesn’t. Explain to them the vision, the reason, the hopes, the dreams…. Remind them (gently) that the church is not an end in itself, but a means to an end—to create new disciples. As pastor, you are most effective out in the community building relationships. No one outside the formed community is wandering into the church anymore, unless they are seeking gas or rent money.
2) Make the move slowly. Advertise that you will be at the coffee bar from 8:30-10:30 on Tuesday mornings. Make sure you are there! If it is received with good faith, then you can progress—slowly add time away from the office and in the communty. Turtle pace is key. Don’t do too much, too quickly. You spent a lot of time building the trust by keeping lots of office hours. It only takes a couple of missteps to lose it all.
3) Keep the gossipers and the key leaders informed. Talk to them about the conversations you are having. Tell them some stories. Even if these new folks aren’t coming to church, if you can tell the stories, then they will allow you even more freedom to be in a space other than your study.
4) Don’t move your library out of the pastor’s study until someone else lays clam to, “your” space. You have claimed it, the congregation has given it to you. If you only spend one hour in there, on Sunday mornings, still claim it—until it is needed for something else.
5) After some time, begin to work to develop another, “need” for your space. If you are not using it, someone else should. Who might use that space? What mission, what ministry, what other staff person needs that space more than you?
Working with established churches to change is difficult and time consuming work. But they are willing to change if you are willing to help them change slowly. No matter how big or how small your congregation, you have to think of your congregation as a aircraft carrier rather than a speedboat. The turns have to be planned months and years in advance, otherwise they will never happen.
Joe Smith, in a related blog post, suggested that there is too much infrastructure surrounding a pastor’s study, and that it really has little place in ministry in the twenty-first century. I completely agree.
The pastor’s study was envisioned for a time past, when people flocked to the church, when clergy were among the best educated in the community, when the pastor was required to tote around a vast library of books and those books contained the basis for the answers the congregation and the broader community were seeking.
Today the pastor’s study seems to be more a limiting feature of ministry than an empowering one. If I had my way, I would eliminate it from the church entirely, as an outmoded, non-useful space. It seems that it serves only to have a space where a small group of parishioners can keep a watchful eye on what the pastor is up to—for if our pastor is in his/her office, then we know that he/she is working. Ug. The thought that true ministry happens within the confines of the four walls of the pastor’s study makes me sick.
However, let me caution any would-be study-tossers, especially if you are in your first five years of ministry in your local context. Let me share some valuable first-hand insights on office space.
I once served a parish that had rented out the majority of the church to a daycare facility which used the space Monday-Friday from 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. When I first got there, there was a lot of consternation by folks that felt that they had lost their space. The women’s group couldn’t use the space for their monthly mid-day meeting. It was difficult to schedule weekly mid-day Bible studies. Committees couldn’t meet until 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. The daycare always left the space a mess.
I thought I had a great solution… We would turn the pastor’s study into a dedicated classroom and mid-day meeting space. The pastor’s study was not a great space for a pastor anyway (it had sexual safety issues—no windows). I would work from home and the local coffee shop. I would meet with folks in their homes, in the coffee bars, in the beer bars! With the advent of cell phones, free internet, and my laptop computer, I felt that ministry could, and should take place anywhere. And it did.
The problem that I encountered was that I had not been there long enough to build up trust. For the twelve people who regularly popped into the church and office to do their various business and mission, it was a huge issue that I wasn’t where they could see me. And if they couldn’t see me, I obviously wasn’t working.
The key to being able to move out of the pastor’s study is trust. As pastor, you will have to build enough trust within the congregation to let them let you move out of the pastor’s study and into the community. This process is not measured in months, but rather two to five years of hard, office, pencil pushing work. Once they know that you actually work, moving out of the office will not be such a big deal. But they have to trust you first.
If you decide that you really want to move out, I suggest that you take these steps:
1) Talk with the power brokers in the church, the ones who nod yes and it happens and who shake their head no and it doesn’t. Explain to them the vision, the reason, the hopes, the dreams…. Remind them (gently) that the church is not an end in itself, but a means to an end—to create new disciples. As pastor, you are most effective out in the community building relationships. No one outside the formed community is wandering into the church anymore, unless they are seeking gas or rent money.
2) Make the move slowly. Advertise that you will be at the coffee bar from 8:30-10:30 on Tuesday mornings. Make sure you are there! If it is received with good faith, then you can progress—slowly add time away from the office and in the communty. Turtle pace is key. Don’t do too much, too quickly. You spent a lot of time building the trust by keeping lots of office hours. It only takes a couple of missteps to lose it all.
3) Keep the gossipers and the key leaders informed. Talk to them about the conversations you are having. Tell them some stories. Even if these new folks aren’t coming to church, if you can tell the stories, then they will allow you even more freedom to be in a space other than your study.
4) Don’t move your library out of the pastor’s study until someone else lays clam to, “your” space. You have claimed it, the congregation has given it to you. If you only spend one hour in there, on Sunday mornings, still claim it—until it is needed for something else.
5) After some time, begin to work to develop another, “need” for your space. If you are not using it, someone else should. Who might use that space? What mission, what ministry, what other staff person needs that space more than you?
Working with established churches to change is difficult and time consuming work. But they are willing to change if you are willing to help them change slowly. No matter how big or how small your congregation, you have to think of your congregation as a aircraft carrier rather than a speedboat. The turns have to be planned months and years in advance, otherwise they will never happen.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Classic Sports Discourse, Revisited for the Church
I am currently working on a series of blog posts in the coming week or two using a framework often used in sports, but I am trying it with the life of the church. What is overrated? What is underrated? Sports people in radio and in the business attempt to stay away from overvalued athletes (unless you're the New York Yankees or Boston Red Sox) and maximize undervalued athletes. The church should probably stay away from looking at people and ministries as commodities, yet it is important to understand the dynamics of public discourse and what receives our attention.
What do you think? When it comes to the life of the church: what is overrated? What is underrated?
Here are the examples I am currently addressing in my thoughts that will turn into blog posts in the series:
Overrated: Office space. Mission statements.
Underrated: Grace. Accountability.
I would not pin this framework on Jesus' thought processes and ministry. However, Jesus is doing something to this effect during the "blessings and woes" teaching in Luke 6. It's overrated to be full and rich. It's underrated to be excluded and hated because of an association with Jesus. It's underrated to be hungry and weeping. What do these statements mean? What does it say about human aspiration? What does it say about who we value as people? The underrated/overrated framework is a discussion piece about where we put our attention in public and congregational discourse.
If you are interested in writing a guest blog post, let me know. Or, if you have some input on possible topics, let me know! What do you think?
What do you think? When it comes to the life of the church: what is overrated? What is underrated?
Here are the examples I am currently addressing in my thoughts that will turn into blog posts in the series:
Overrated: Office space. Mission statements.
Underrated: Grace. Accountability.
I would not pin this framework on Jesus' thought processes and ministry. However, Jesus is doing something to this effect during the "blessings and woes" teaching in Luke 6. It's overrated to be full and rich. It's underrated to be excluded and hated because of an association with Jesus. It's underrated to be hungry and weeping. What do these statements mean? What does it say about human aspiration? What does it say about who we value as people? The underrated/overrated framework is a discussion piece about where we put our attention in public and congregational discourse.
If you are interested in writing a guest blog post, let me know. Or, if you have some input on possible topics, let me know! What do you think?
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