James 24:7 - Slowing Down

A Side Order of Hell

Thu, 14 May 2009 08:57:36 -0400

In his new book, Missional Rennaisance: Changing the Scorecard for the Church, Reggie McNeal recounts how he often encourages churches to replace their so-called “evangelism strategy” with a “blessing strategy”. His challenge is simple: “take upon your self to bless three people per week and make sure at least one of them doesn’t deserve it.” (That last bit is tongue-in-cheek) He asks those he teaches this to live out their covenant with God by blessing those around them.

He tells the story of a young man who took him up on his challenge. This guy decided that his daily Starbucks visit would occasion his new ministry of blessing. So, whenever he went by for coffee he would ask his friendly barista: “How can I ask God to bless you?” At first the wait staff looked at him like he was a whack job. However, over time they began to open up to him not only about the blessings they needed, they began to share with him the burdens of their particular lives.

When he shared this experience with his church homies they decided they would do the same thing. As it turned out, between the members of his circle, they visited every one of the Starbucks in town. Each would do as he had done whenever they visited Starbucks. They would ask baristas: “How can I ask God to bless you today?”

After a few weeks of this, one of the people involved in this little exercise wrote to Reggie McNeal and told him that upon his last visit to Starbucks the barista handed him his coffee but pulled it back just before he grasped it and asked: “Are you one of those blessing people?”

Imagine that: someone who is not a part of the church club characterizing one who is as one of those blessing people! (Compare that to a cartoon I saw once. Two lions are resting in the Coliseum licking their chops. One looks at the other and says: “Burp…Christians give me heartburn.” The other lion says: “Christians give everybody heartburn.”)

Reggie’s suggestion is not new to me. I went to lunch with a fellow pastor one day. After the waiter took our orders my pastor friend said: “Oh, listen…before you go. We are going to pray over our meals when you bring them. Is there anything we could pray about for you?”

I almost did a spit take.

The waiter took it in stride and said: “Yeah, pray for my family. We are going through a really rough time.”

I told that story in a sermon a few weeks later. My old friend and daughter-in-faith Jamie thought that was just a splendid thing. So that day when we went to lunch following worship, which we do almost every Sunday, Jamie looked up at the young waitress and said, “Sugar…we are going to pray over our lunch in a minute and I wanted to know if there was anything we could pray about for you?” (Now you have to read that with a Paula Deen drawl. Jamie makes Paula Deen seem like a shrinking violet…and Jamie, if you are reading this that’s a compliment. I love me some Paula Deen.)

Again, I almost did a spit take. (“What the heck…I just preach this stuff. I don’t mean for you to do it! Lord have mercy!”)

Well, that little old girl had a whole lot going on in her life. She had dropped out of high school, was living with her boyfriend, and was estranged from her parents and generally struggling to cut her path in the world. Jamie befriended her and keeps up with her to this day.

Jamie does this all the time now. I don’t do the spit take so much because I have seen nothing but positive responses to it. (I finally identified my struggle with the practice…I didn’t like the idea of catching people off guard in front of an audience.) Sometimes folks give you the gentle brush off but most of the time they open up right there on the spot.

One girl opened up about her mother’s struggle with breast cancer. She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth before the tears welled in her eyes and her throat knotted up like a fist. Another one shared her difficulties with working and finishing school. A young guy with a too-cool-for-school vibe took the prayer offer in stride but came back before we left and asked: “What church are y’all from?” (The Alien Church…woooo…)

One thing I have learned from this little practice is that the smiling face who stands at your table and says, “Hi, my name is Wendy and I’ll be your server today” may be bringing more than your lunch back to the table…she may be carrying a side order of hell.

That smiling mask may just be dying for someone to ask God to bless her.

On Becoming a Gratitudian III

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 09:26:55 -0500

As you may know we are experiencing a drought in Georgia, USA. Although we've had a good rain on this Thanksgiving morning, we are far behind what is needed to fill our reservoirs.

Indications are that within a few months the Atlanta area will be in a real water emergency if something drastic doesn't occur. Our governor, Sonny Perdue, has taken it on the chin from critics for leading "pray for rain" sessions on the steps of the state capital building.

To say that things are getting desperate would be an understatement.

As a result of the drought many of us are thinking more about water conservation. To this point, we have been so blessed with water that most of us took it for granted. That was wrong and you can be sure that our sins are finding us out.

For the past couple of weeks I have been thinking more about the matter of gratitude and have been trying to remember to articulate my thanks as often as possible.

A couple of days ago I wrote that giving thanks on a consistent basis helps us to realize that our lives and everything that comprises our lives is a gift given by the hand of God. I see the offer of ongoing thanksgiving as a practice that opens our eyes to the gift and gifts of life.

I think in the past I have thought that the way to become more thankful was to grow in my understanding of this "life-as-gift" idea so that I can be thankful. I am now beginning to see that it really is the other way around: we learn to see life and everything in our lives as gift when we undertake the practice of gratitude.

Continual thanksgiving helps us to remember that. (After all, how often do we give thanks for the things we believe we have earned?)

This "gift" awareness that is growing from the practice of gratitude touched me in a small way yesterday. I got into the shower and when I glanced up at the streaming shower head I saw that water as a gift and I immediately began to think about what a precious gift it is and how much I have to grow in my stewardship of it.

Later I was driving in my car thinking about that brief flash of insight when I began to say to myself: "Well, of course you see it as a gift NOW! That's called 'supply and demand'. Water is in short supply and that is why you see it as a gift."

I then thought: "No..that's why I see water a valuable. However, I do not think of all things that are valuable as gifts. Someone might work hard and believe that their home is a product of their hard labor. They would see their home as valuable but they would not necessarily see their home as a gift."

I don't think you can think about water or anything else in this life as gift without simultaneously thinking that there is a Giver.

The water flowing from my shower head? Yes, I pay for it. Yes, it is valuable and I am seeing its value grow everyday as the supply diminishes in this part of the world.

However, I see it primarily as a gift, a gift given by a loving God, a gift over which I am a steward.

Working on expressing gratitude is helping me see the world in a new light....the light of grace.

A Life Well-Lived: Becoming Aware

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 10:38:18 -0400

I've just completed a summer sermon series called "Dining with Jesus." During that series we explored those times in scripture when Jesus went home with people and/or sat down and ate with them.

During the series I limited the study to actual "eating meetings", although I did fudge a bit (no pun) when I included the story of Zacchaeus. The text doesn't say he actually ate with him but that he intended to go home with him. ( I also preached one that involved the criticism made of Jesus that he welcomed sinnners and ate with them. )

Yesterday, I looked back on those sermons and made some observations that I think are relevant to the discussion of the "life well-lived."

This week I will write about some of those observations.

One question that intrigued me throughout this series of sermons is the question of why it was important for the writers of scripture to tell us so many stories about Jesus eating with people.

I suggest that part of the reason may have been in the fact that the whole practice of eating together is a highly patternized, regulated and predictable affair. (Unless you have 3 children under the age of 8!)

We know how to select our chair, where to sit, when to sit, how to ask for food, how to pass it, which fork to use and when, what to say, and what not to say. (You can find some pretty interesting things when you "Google" the phrase "Table Manners.")

As far as I know, all cultures see the practice of eating together as a regulated, socially patterned, rule-governed affair.

I like to think that Jesus breached those rule-governed affairs as a way to open some space to teach. (Whether that's what he was aiming to do or not, that was often what happened when folks sat down to eat with Jesus)

Here's Jesus going home with tax collectors and eating with them. Here's Jesus healing a man on the Sabbath at the table while dining with Pharisees. Here's Jesus allowing a woman of ill-repute to wash his feet with her tears while he reclined at the table. Here's Jesus calling out the scribes and the Pharisees at the table.

In almost every instance Jesus breaks the rules, disrupts the patterns, and creates these wonderful "teachable moments."

Now, this is just me thinking about these matters. However, it seems to me that what happens whenever our mind-numbing social patterns are broken we become intensely aware.

Perhaps Jesus did the things he did and said the things he said to create these moments of supreme awareness.

Maybe one thing we can learn from Jesus about the "life well-lived" is that we must become aware. We must wake up. We must see. We must hear. We must smell. We must feel.

Here's a quick and dirty take on how the great American psychologist William James understood awareness: James believed that we all go through life on automatic pilot- that we sort of drift along on cruise control, unaware, barely consious, operating on habit, our minds drifting in la-la land.

Then some surprising event happens and we wake up, we become conscious, we become aware. (Now, that's a quick take on a more complicated theory.)

Remember the days following 9/11? Remember how conscious we became? Remember how we suddenly noticed our neighbors and even found ourselves caring about them? Remember how American we suddenly became?

The day before, if I remember correctly, we yawned as we watched the news about shark attacks on the coast of Florida. Then on 9/11, the towers fell and we all became "aware." (I later saw a cartoon: a family is dozing on the couch in front of the TV. Then the 9/11 event is broadcast and their faces show terror and their hair stands straight up. Then after 9/11 they sit there with the same terrified looks and their hair standing straight up but napping again.)

When Jesus did or said what he did or said at the table people suddenly became aware. Perhaps they felt uncomfortable, perhaps they felt offended, perhaps they were elated.

What they were not was asleep!

In the presence of Jesus- this sometimes shocking Jesus- folks became aware.

I would suggest that part of "the life well-lived" is to live in conscious awareness: to look at what you are doing, to see who is crossing your path, to observe the looks in eyes and the down-turned corners of mouths.

Do this: decide that one day this week you are going to be aware. You are going to see what (or who) is there in front of you. You are going to notice them.

Ah, make it even simpler. Go to the supermarket and this time actually look at the cashier. Make a note of his or her name. Call her by name. Note what you might surmise by the look in his eye. See him. Take her in.

When you sit down at a restaurant actually look up at the waiter when he says, "Hi, I'm Bob. I'll be your server." Maybe even speak to him and say, "Hi Bob. I'm (insert name) and this is my (wife, husband, friend) (insert name). It is nice to meet you."

These are just little things. But then maybe the "life well-lived" consists of a million little things.

After all, before Jesus could call Matthew the Tax Collector he had to see him. Before he could go home with the wee man, Zacchaeus, he had to lift his eyes toward the sycamore tree. Before he could teach the Pharisees about how to invite people to a party, he had to notice all the wealth and power that grappled for the best seat at the table.

To become whole, to live the "life well-lived" we must become conscious.

We must become aware.