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Today’s topic has been on my mind for some time now. What follows is intended to get us thinking more clearly about our common (mis)conceptions of friendship in our social media saturated world.

Recently, I asked the following on my Facebook page:

“Curious for your thoughts. On average, what percentage of your Facebook ‘friends’ are actually your friends?”

The responses were interesting. What caught my attention was a generational distinction between the oldest and youngest of my respondents. Clearly, this was a non-scientific poll, and the responses were few. Among those who replied, the Boomers felt most, if not all, of their Facebook “friends” were indeed their actual friends. Conversely, the Gen-X and younger crowd felt a small minority of Facebook “friends” were really their friends at all. Responses from the younger audience ranged from 1% - 5% as a general estimate of true friendships among all the “friends” listed on their Facebook profiles.

This exercise caused me to re-visit my own “friend” list as displayed on my personal Facebook account.

I have standards for marking someone a “friend” on this platform. I don’t connect with people who I don’t know personally. I’m slow to connect when I have reservations about age, gender, profession, and lifestyle choices, in general. Also (don’t judge me to harshly here), I routinely scroll through my “friend” list to eliminate those who no longer have reason to be there. I’ve made it a goal to never let my “friend” list grow beyond 1000.

I know people with “friend” lists of 3000 or more. This seems unlikely to me; certainly untenable. These people may have met this many people at one time or another, but I assure you they fall shy of 3000 actual friends.

In this day and age, when social media shapes our understanding of “friendship” and where terms like “friend” are inherently cheapened, how do we define the true meaning of these concepts? What is a true friend after all?

I spoke with a friend – a real one – earlier today. This is a person I have known for over twenty years now. He and I have moved across the country in opposite directions more than once during that span. For whatever reason, we have kept in touch. Our conversations revolve around faith and family for the most part, with some childish humor sprinkled in to keep things interesting. We are both intelligent, thoughtful people with a middle school sense of humor. Faith, family, and fart jokes in abundance.

This friend is also a “friend” on social media. As I look at my current “friend” list (800 something at the time of this writing), I would estimate 5% or fewer from this collective inventory are actually my friends, as I understand the concept. The friend I spoke with today and about 39 others. This seems about right.

Friends are people who know you on a personal level and who genuinely care about you. Friends know more about you than superficial trivia. Maybe I set the bar higher than others here, but I expect genuine friends to know something about my hopes, fears, dreams, and disappointments. Friends know the names and circumstances of my spouse and children as well as a thing or two about their lives as well. Friends care about, support, encourage, challenge, and strengthen me. Friends are there for me when I need them, regardless of the circumstance. Friends are real. Friends are rare.

Friends – real friends – are those who call to check in every now and then. Friends – real friends – are those who support you through pain and loss. These are the people who walk with you through celebration and mourning. Friends – real friends – are the first people you talk to about the most important highs and lows you encounter. Friends like this stick with you and stand by you. Indeed, friends – real friends – are rare.

Do you have 3000 of these on Facebook? No. Neither do I.

I do have some acquaintances – people I’ve met or interacted with briefly here and there. I have some connections – people I’ve met who might benefit me one day through their own networks and related opportunities. I also have a swollen, outdated list of people who were some degree of friend at one time or another in my past. Unfortunately, few of these were ever friends – real friends – even back when we lived in the same place or attended the same church.

Some of you will find that last paragraph a little harsh. Cold, mean, cynical. Maybe, but that’s not how I see it. As with all my writing, I’m simply keeping it real. Those who get it tend to get it completely. I know I’m not alone.

In view of all this, I invite you to consider your own criteria for “friending” others on your social media platforms. We should all be more prudent here. More importantly, I invite you to consider what qualities a friend – a real friend – has to offer before expecting anything more from the acquaintances and connections in your own circles. Some of these have never been our friends in the first place. Let’s call it what it is.

As I thin out my “friend list” again today, I must also look deeper at myself. How many people consider me a friend – a real friend – in the same way I desire friendship – actual friendship – from others?

When I apply my own friendship criteria to myself, I know I’ve been a lousy friend at times, myself. If this has been your experience of Dave Blanchard, feel free to remove me from your “friend list” on social media. This won’t hurt my feelings. I would prefer you to be honest. I’m happy to be your acquaintance if you will have me.

In the meantime, go ahead and “friend” as many as you like on social media. Just don’t kid yourself. Too bad there isn’t a “some guy I met for five minutes ten years ago” button on those platforms.

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These past several months I’ve been working on this project. I was inspired earlier this year by a customer who asked for a copy of my first book. She was not my target audience, and I worried how she might receive a book about discipleship and the church. She loved it.

When I handed off my book that day, I realized I needed something more for a broader, more diverse audience. I needed to write again.

What follows is my first attempt at a back cover book summary. It is likely you will read an edited version of this when my book launches in 2026.

“This is a book for baristas and businesspeople; for employers, employees, educators, and students of all ages. This is a book for anyone who has ever wondered what to do with their life and if it is possible to find meaning and purpose through this pursuit. The unlikely friends we meet at [book title] are right there with you. If you are restless in your current job, or struggling to find another, you will find support in these pages. If you are seeking a larger purpose for your life, or wondering if you were put on this earth for a reason, you will definitely find a warm and welcoming place at [book title].”

Something like that.

For years, I have felt the need to contribute to a conversation about meaning and purpose in life. Specifically, I have realized a need for more discussion surrounding calling and vocation, talents and abilities, and their creational intent for all of us. This book addresses these issues from a narrative standpoint, offering relatable characters who wrestle together with hopes and dreams, challenges and disappointments, common to most of us. I pray it is a helpful tool for any seeking direction with their lives, and I hope it is an intriguing introduction to our Creator God, as the One who designed us for various purposes in the first place. This book is for Christians and atheists alike. Real, flawed, cautiously hopeful humans of all kinds.

Here’s where you come in.

I’ve learned a few things since I released my first book in 2024. I’ve learned the value of supporters who will read this book and offer a review online. I’ve learned the importance of friends who will promote this book through word of mouth and on their social media platforms. I’ve experienced the blessing of those who have bought copies to use in classrooms and living rooms for teaching and small group purposes, respectively. In a couple cases, I even saw how helpful it can be to share my book at a speaking engagement or book signing event. Thanks to all who have helped support my writing in all these ways. My first book is still out there and continues to circulate.

What I’m looking for today are those who are able to support this project through financial contributions. I need some partners.

There are costs involved in publishing. Type setting fees, professional editing, promotional expenses, and funding for personal inventory. With my first book, all of this cost around $2000. Through private donations and Substack contributions, I was blessed with most of this without needing to seek more. Praise God again!

I have already begun fundraising for support of this second title. Thanks to those who have already contributed! I will need at least as much as the first time. If I am able to raise more, I will be able to advertise more as well. Significant contributions might even secure a publicist, enabling me to share this book more broadly, in ways I am unable to accomplish alone.

So here’s my ask.

If any of what I have shared today resonates with you; if this could be a book for you, your kids, your students, a friend, colleague, or co-worker; if it seems helpful for your classroom, living room, or book club; if you believe God has a plan and that you and others are a part of it in some way, shape, or form - please partner with me to finance this project. Every little bit helps. Bigger bits help even more.

Below are two links. The first is to my Venmo account. If you would like to help, but need additional means, please send me a message. I’ve been handed cash and I’ve received checks in the mail. Whatever works best for you.

Partner Support

The second link is to my first book. If you still need a copy, or if you want to add an Amazon review for the copy you’ve read, please click below.

“Let’s Talk: Eleven Conversations for People Who Take Life, Faith, and the Church Seriously.”

Thanks to all my partners out there. For those who made my first book possible, and for those who will help this second title reach an even broader audience. Blessings to you.

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Let's Talk: Eleven Conversations for People Who Take Life, Faith, and the Church Seriously

I do have something that needs said today. For those who are interested, I offer the following.

Finally, I think I get it. The world needs non-profit groups to do the work our institutional churches could (should?) be doing if they were willing and able.

Yesterday, I spent some time with a local organization that provides affordable housing and developmental programs for young people. This group helps those who have aged out of foster care and others who are trying to improve themselves in a place where jobs are hard to find and rent is crazy expensive.

I toured the campus of tiny houses and asked plenty of questions. This program is reproducible. I know several churches with plenty of land and oversized parking areas that are ready for new uses. I know a few with generous weekly offerings and huge savings accounts that could fund something like this overnight. I kept thinking, "I need to share this with my church, your church, any church that will listen and is interested in helping the young people in our communities."

But I've been there already. I know how this works. The thought of pitching this idea in an elders' meeting? In many places, at least in my Tribe (CofC), this is a waste of time.

Institutional churches have bills to pay. Buildings to maintain, staff to support, programs to fund. Budgets won't allow for new, non-traditional initiatives - especially those that don't offer value (real or perceived) to their own members. Churches like these are inward focused, providing services to their immediate constituents. Mission work is literally a "foreign" concept, and local initiatives are few, if any at all.

Your church is likely similar.

I worked with a church once that owned two houses and two unused parcels of land on the perimeter of their large, never filled parking lot. That same church had an elder who told me once that their church "did not deal in real estate".

Really? I've got news for you.

So what's the point here today? My point is, your (institutional) church is full of good people who want to follow Jesus and bless others in need. I'm glad you're there and I'm thankful for the community you've found. Unfortunately, the institution demands offerings to pay the bills required by their people, places and programs. Your elders and committee members are likely good people, doing the best they can to serve the needs of their constituents (you and your family). Their plates are full and their work is predetermined through interests of the institution that elected them to formal service.

If you want to help people find affordable housing, find a local non-profit that advances this agenda. Don't waste your time pitching a program like this to your church officials. Maybe things work differently at your place - I truly hope so. If not, I offer this little reflection to help us all think beyond the budgets and comfort levels and traditions and politics and limiting factors of the churches with whom we gather and tithe and hope to "make budget" by end of our fiscal year.

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I also reported a PDU today. My chapter membership at PMI requires a certain number of PDU’s to maintain my status as a CAPM. All this is necessary as I work toward my PMP. I know, you’re probably thinking LOL!

After reporting my PDU, I applied for a job with a local FBO. These processes can be tedious with all the AI and bot generated interfaces. Thankfully, this one allowed me to enter career and educational experience without too much trouble. The education piece is always interesting to me. Some templates provide options from which to choose that don’t include categories for my personal credentials. DMIN is rarely found here, and MDIV is equally absent. My current employer often omits training beyond MA or MS in their dropdown selections. Here, my BS is the only thing that counts. Once again, it’s BS that gets you the job.

All these initials can be confusing. I’m reminded of the church I served once in which our corporate assemblies occurred in the MPR. Long-timer-insiders would use those initials as if the rest of us knew what they meant (multi-purpose room). When COVID hit, meetings in that space were directly impacted by recommendations from the CDC. They weren’t alone. Discussions over when and where to meet affected my college church at MRCC and a buddy’s congregation at PRCC. Your church probably dealt with this as well. In retrospect, we could have done some things better IMO.

All that feels like a long time ago. My new reality is that of CS at 5:30 AM. I brew the coffee every ten minutes and make sure the trash is emptied. Unless I am on DTO. In that case, I take the orders and enter them carefully into our CPU. Where I really shine is DTW, where I interact with customers directly at the POS. If I were evaluated on this aspect of my job and nothing else, I could probably be an ASM at some point in my future. Who knows.

What’s my point with all this? No idea. I guess it had been a while since I had written here. It was like “BRB” and then I went silent for a month or two. SMH. My bad. IDK what to write sometimes. I don’t know what people want or need to read. Most of my thoughts are theological reflections of some kind, prompted by everyday experiences. Lately, my experiences have been rich and diverse. Nothing to prompt a proper reflection, but plenty to keep me thinking and growing and questioning and wrestling IRL. I may address some of this eventually. For now, I’m busy making coffee and logging PDU’s and applying for jobs. Hopefully, more on that front ASAP.

Thanks to all who read and share and support me in my various endeavors. I would love to circulate my book more broadly. This continues to be an interesting experiment, with good feedback from my readers. If you can help me here, please share with the people in your network. The link is below.

In the meantime, blessings to you, friends. Much love from here in Colorado. TTYL.

Let's Talk: Eleven Conversations for People Who Take Life, Faith, and the Church Seriously

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I dealt with a jerk in the Starbucks drive-through the other day. This guy is somewhat regular, so I know I will see him again. I’ve learned his name, and I know his drink. I won’t share those here. This guy is simply a jerk.

At some point in one of our past interactions I must have told this customer I was a pastor. I honestly don’t recall. A few weeks ago, this guy pulled up to my window and flashed a snarky smile as I handed out his drinks.

“Hey, it’s the pastor. How about a Bible verse for the day?”

I was caught off guard. What to do? I’m not sure Starbucks wants any of us to quote Scripture with customers. More so, I was taken aback by the request. I paused and thought and eventually went with a Psalm. I can’t even tell you which one. Simply the first thing that came to mind. I’ve never been asked anything like this by a customer.

My jerk friend was satisfied. “Yeah, that’s more like it,” he said, before driving away.

The whole exchange bothered me. I was troubled that it took me so long to recall a scripture fitting for the moment. I was bothered that this customer seemed to enjoy putting me on the spot. I didn’t like how all this felt. The more I reflected, the more it seemed this guy was simply being a jerk. An antagonist. Having a bit of fun at my expense.

I hadn’t seen this guy again until just the other day. This time I knew he was coming. I saw his drink pop up in our mobile order area, complete with his name on the sticker. When he announced himself at the speaker box, I made sure to have my scripture handy. This time I would be ready.

“Ah, it’s the pastor again. Do you have my Bible verse for the day?”

I went with another Psalm. He nodded with a snarky grin, pleased I had bid his wish. Everything about this second time around confirmed this guy was doing his best to antagonize me. It did not sit well. I had to say something. Irritated, I leaned in.

“So, are you a Christian?” I asked.

“Ha! No. I grew up with that and then I explored other religions. I don’t buy any of that nonsense,” he said. “I guess you could say I’m a Muslin now, but that’s only to make my wife happy. As far as I’m concerned, all the world religions boil down to basically the same message: don’t be a dick.”

At this, I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably a pretty good summary,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say at that moment, and I do think he’s right to some degree. I told him I appreciated the general truths shared between the major religions and did my best to end the conversation without being a “dick” myself.

Here’s the biggest irony I’ve realized from these past two interactions: this guy is a total dick. Okay, we will go with “jerk” as this feels more appropriate for my audience. Either way, he is one.

I’ve known non-believers who judge Christians harshly, expecting them to live (consistently, perfectly) by a Christian ethic, while they themselves seemingly have no moral code. They don’t follow Jesus, so they can be whatever kind of jerks they want. Alternately, Christians must always behave as they (jerks, etc.) think appropriate and fitting for people who follow Christ. I’ve experienced this plenty in my life. I have family members who have treated me this way since childhood.

As I reflected on this interaction the other day, these were the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I’m tired of people who “don’t buy any of this” telling those of us who do how we should live our lives. I’ve been told too many times. If you don’t buy it, if you don’t live by Christian standards yourself, who are you to interpret and apply those standards to me or anyone else?

The words of Jesus from the passage above came to me eventually. “Blessed are you when people are jerks at the Starbucks drive-through because they know you are trying to follow me.” That’s a rough paraphrase, but you get the idea. I’ve spent so much of my adult career working with Christian people, I haven’t been exposed to jerks like this guy – antagonists – in my daily life. I have that one family member, and I’ve encountered a few others over the years. Mostly, my day-to-day interactions have been with people who are at least nominally Christian. It’s an uncomfortable feeling to be “blessed” this way at my workplace.

So now I begin planning for my next conversation with this customer. I have a scripture in mind already and think I will take things up a notch. “The Lord is my shepherd” sufficed the other day. Next time, I’m going with John 14. “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Let’s see where this takes things.

I appreciate your prayers as I anticipate my next interaction. I don’t want to be a jerk, myself. I do, however, want to engage this customer in a way that is slightly more engaging. I welcome your thoughts on the matter, especially any suggestions you may have for scripture or conversation prompts that might move this conversation forward in positive ways.

Till then, may you and I both show and share Jesus in word and deed. May we be bold without being jerks to others.

(Check out my book. For additional reading, with guided conversations for your small group, please click the link below. Thanks to all who buy and share)

Let's Talk: Eleven Conversations for People Wo Take Life, Faith, and the Church Seriously

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I recently learned of another ministry friend who was released from his professional employment. In this case, his church simply didn’t have the money to keep paying his salary. I suspect this sort of thing will become more common in years to come, especially outside of the Bible Belt. Thankfully, this church was honest with their parishioners (as far as I know) and generous with their severance (not always guaranteed in Professional Ministry).

I am confident my friend will find his way forward. This is a smart, good-looking guy, great with people, and full of charisma. This guy would make a great salesman, and I think he could be an excellent realtor. No doubt he will have options.

This is not always the case for Professional Ministers facing unemployment and career transitions. Some of my colleagues have more natural appeal than others in the world of secular employment. Work ethic and charm go a long way, but these are no replacement for proven, marketable skills in the respective industries that evaluate your potential.

In my own search for employment outside of Professional Ministry, I have learned the truth of the quote above. Pastors are “Jacks of all trades” and “masters of none”. This is particularly true of youth pastors, as the nature of their work is often multi-faceted beyond that of preachers and worship leaders. In every case, pastors are generalists – we have casual, unaccredited, non-industry-specific (outside of Professional Ministry) experience in a variety of disciplines, without ever becoming experts or “masters” of anything in particular. (True, like some of you, I’ve earned my Master of Divinity degree. What does that even mean? Never has there been a more arrogant and naïve title for an academic degree.)

Consider the following, from my own experience in Professional Ministry. I’ve been a teacher. My expertise is with ministry and theology. I am not equipped or certified to teach other subjects in other arenas, nor do I want to. Do I have teaching experience? Yes. Am I qualified to be an 8th grade science teacher in a public school? You tell me. Ultimately, this doesn’t matter. I have no desire to teach science to middle schoolers. I’ve been a public speaker, but I am not a speechmaker. I’ve led initiatives in training and development for over twenty years. But have I, really? That’s never what we called them in the churches I served. I’ve been an administrator, team leader, and department head. I’ve interviewed and hired others. I’ve developed budgets and fundraised in a variety of contexts. In many ways, my work has involved branding, marketing, and advertising. Everywhere I’ve been. Like everyone else in the world of student ministry, I’ve planned calendars and events and trips and projects and retreats and seminars and domestic and foreign mission campaigns. I’ve literally driven tens of thousands of miles behind the wheels of various church vehicles. Every mile without a CDL. I am not even a professional, certified, or accredited driver of any kind, let alone a marketer or advertiser or administrator in any way that is recognized and appreciated in the secular marketplace. Then there’s the counseling. I am not a trained or licensed therapist. I would never claim to be. With that in mind, it’s amazing how many hours of my life have been given to “pastoral counseling” with people of all ages. Am I a counselor? Again, you tell me. The point is, like many (most?) others with careers in Professional Ministry, I’ve become a Jack of many trades, without holding any marketable experience or industry-specific credentials to secure many interviews with a potential secular employers. Rarely am I adequately “qualified” for much of anything at all.

I offer all this as a cautionary reminder to any who choose a career in Professional Ministry. The day may come when you are removed from your position. The time may come when, for whatever reason, you face a career transition. You may outgrow youth ministry. You may get burned out. You might just need a better paying job to cover your bills. Maybe you desire health insurance or a retirement account or a home of your own that is not owned by a church. You may just decide Professional Ministry is no longer for you. Time to move on. What will you do next?

Currently, I am working on a certification to (hopefully) open doors to future work that will pay my bills. Fingers crossed. My hope is a secular license of some kind will put me on the radars of employers that currently don’t know how to utilize a Jack, a generalist, a former Professional Minister in their respective industry. I’ve seen friends become teachers and therapists and chaplains (all of which make good sense) with a little work and licensure and accreditation in their years after Professional Ministry. None of these appeal to me. I’ve watched others become financial planners and car salesmen. Again, not for me. But this post is not intended for me. I have a plan (I think), and I’m working on it. The question is for you.

For the Professional Minister. What are you doing to prepare yourself for life after Ministry, should this become your lot one day? Maybe get that CDL. Maybe start that online program to become a therapist so that you can market yourself as an actual Therapist when the time comes. You are good at what you do now. Good luck trying to explain all that to a secular employer. Most people don’t understand what you do, nor can they imagine how your skills and value translate to their industry.

For the aspiring ministry major. What other, or additional degrees can you pursue to provide a foundation for future work outside of Professional Ministry? Many (most?) of you will need training and certification in a different industry at some point down the road. Degrees in youth and children’s ministry have little value outside of Professional Ministry contexts. Churches may hire you without a ministry degree. Secular employers are less likely to hire you without some type of formal training and certification in their respective industries. If you love kids and love Jesus, consider a degree in child development or elementary education. Theological training helps, but in the world of Professional Ministry with young people, it is sadly nonessential to your employment in many churches. Prepare yourself for work with a school.

For the church elder or deacon or committee member. If you choose to staff a church with Professional Ministers, consider one or both of the following. First, expect them to be tent makers, a la Paul the Apostle. Hire staff on a part-time basis so they can gain experience (possibly insurance and benefits as well) in a secular industry. There are many benefits to this arrangement, both to the employer and the employee. More on this in future posts. Second, should you choose the traditional arrangement (full-time employees), provide time and funding for your staff to earn certifications in secular industries. Make this part of the job. “We expect you to be a lifelong learner, and we value your development in areas additional to theology and ministry. We may not be able to employ you forever, and you may one day desire something else outside of this position. We are here to support you long-term, ensuring you have meaningful and marketable options for your future.”

For the potential secular employer. Maybe you are in a position to consider a former Professional Minister for employment with your organization. Know that these are good men and women who have learned to juggle many balls and spin lots of plates. That Jack or Jill who just submitted a resume may be full of potential, but without the ability to translate their experience into terms and concepts that are immediately relatable to your industry. Consider what I’ve shared above. With some help and direction, these could be amazing administrators, trainers, marketers, salespeople, care providers, or customer service specialists. Get to know them. Consider giving them a chance.

Lastly, for those with big hearts and deep pockets. Consider funding an initiative to help people in Professional Ministry become intentionally bi-vocational. Consider helping someone like me start a program to train and/or rehabilitate those with interests in Professional Ministry to gain the training and certification necessary to secure their employment (and feed their families) in a world in which churches may not forever be able (or willing) to pay them fully on their own. Do you resonate with this post? Do you have resources available to help fund a project like this? If so, please send me a message. I know a guy who would love to talk.

(Check out my book. For additional reading, with guided conversations for your small group, please click the link below. Thanks to all who buy and share)

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Have you ever noticed how common it is to find a Home Depot right next to a Lowes? Some are adjacent or across the street. Others literally share parking lots. Why is this? It’s not just these stores. JC Penney and Kohls. Wal-Mart and Target. Neighbors in competition for customers and sales. Each with their own brand. Each aware of their neighbor. Each attempting to outsell the competition next door.

There is plenty of room for multiple retailers in a city like mine. Our local population requires more than one outlet for groceries, clothes, and lumber. Likewise, our consumer economy desires options when it comes to buying any of these things. Customer experience is important here. Wal-Mart is cheaper, but louder and more chaotic. Target costs more, but provides a calmer environment. Products matter too. Home Depot carries Ridgid power tools, which I prefer to the Kobalt products at Lowes. There are plenty of reasons a consumer will choose one retailer over another – I get this. What I don’t understand is why these retailers build their stores within walking distance of their competition.

Unless that’s the point. Choose us over them. We know you’re buying paint this weekend and we know you have options of where to buy. Before you walk into that Home Depot, take a quick peek over here at Lowes. You can see from the Home Depot parking lot that we also have incredible sales this weekend on our riding lawn mowers and barbeque grills. You will see from the balloons and banners that we are having an event of some kind as well. Feel free to park at the Home Depot, but know that we are doing everything we can to attract your business next door. Walk on over here. Come meet the neighbors who want your business.

This Christmas we made the drive to northern Colorado to spend some time with my parents. Along the way we passed several church buildings with banners and signage advertising their Christmas eve services. The bigger the buildings, the more offerings they had. Good for them. I’m all for churches sharing Jesus as often as possible in ways that are visible to the community. From what I could tell, there are plenty of options for Christmas eve services through a variety of churches in Colorado Springs, Denver, and their surrounding suburbs.

I had already commented on all this to my family. They listened supportively and rolled their eyes with every church I noted. With Denver in our rear view, the highway took us through a rapidly growing area in a bedroom community. I was commenting on how this area had changed since I was a kid (literally, “this used to just be farmland in my day”), when a big church building caught my attention. There it was, right on I-25. Acres of sprawling campus with a modern worship facility all decorated for the holidays. From the highway, their sign for multiple Christmas eve services was strategically placed and visible. Awesome! Another church with a spotlight on Jesus for the Christmas season. I’m all for it. I was glad to see it. I was about to comment on this again with my family when I noticed another strategically placed, well-visible sign on the acreage next door.

Coming to you in 2025. Another church campus and worship center with a bigger and better brand, to offer their own array of holiday programming by next Christmas. This church has a brand with which you may be familiar – I will refrain from sharing it here. Just north of Denver you can see for yourself. This is the second of two churches sharing an expensive property line for their sprawling operations on the eastern side of I-25. Two campuses. Two senior pastors. Tens of millions of dollars in property investments and building projects. All right next door to one another. Neighbors.

There’s a lot that goes into planting a church, especially for those with a campus-based ministry model. Operations of this scope require months (sometimes years) of planning, with demographic studies and extensive fundraising campaigns concurrent to the strategic execution of well-defined processes – all in addition to (hopefully) lots of prayer and spiritual discernment from everyone involved in the operation. Make no mistake – initiatives like these are strategic in every way. Lots of planning and purpose and intentionality. The location of this soon-to-be campus on I-25 was chosen specifically, strategically, for a reason. They have chosen to be neighbors with a church that is already up and running next door.

But why? I’ve seen this in other places over the years. There is an intersection near my undergraduate alma mater (Edmond, Oklahoma) that hosts three different churches – two of which share a property line. I was confused when I first saw this years ago. I am frustrated when I visit and drive past these properties today. I’ve encountered more of this in Oklahoma, Texas, and Tennessee than in places I’ve lived and served outside the Bible Belt. Nevertheless, it happens. Denver is not immune. You may have encountered something similar where you live as well.

Okay, so back to my issue here. Why does any church group choose to create a campus and build their structure(s) immediately next door to a church that is already there, already built and staffed and funded? Aren’t there other places in and around town that could benefit from a church in their backyard? Surely there are underserved areas without neighborhood churches. I’m guessing there are even some high-visibility locations with choice real estate that don’t already have one or two or three church buildings already encroaching on their acreage. Why not build in those areas? It’s the right next-door thing that kills me. Find somewhere else. Build somewhere else. Market and advertise your brand all you want – just do it somewhere else.

Remember back when Jesus prayed that his followers would be ONE and that their UNITY would be a testimony to this fallen world? Nothing says UNITY like two neighboring churches, each with their own brand, name, logo, and competing Christmas eve service schedules, sharing little more than a property line and some coveted billboard space on the nearby highway. Can someone explain how any of this displays UNITY in Christ to anyone at all? What sort of testimony is this, really? What message does this send to the thousands of people driving by each day, watching this new construction take place next door to a church already there?

I’m genuinely asking you. I want to know. Maybe you understand something here that simply escapes my immediate comprehension. It seems like there are plenty of cities and neighborhoods and street corners that could benefit from a Christian church of some variety staking a claim and hanging their shingle. Am I wrong? We (the larger Christian community) could cover more area this way; be visible to new and different people, serve other portions of our immediate communities, and offer holiday programming without stepping on the toes of the church next door who is attempting the very same things at their venue. We might not be any more unified, but at the very least we could be less visibly fractured. At least I think so.

So, please tell me our churches have not embraced the business models of Lowes and Home Depot. Tell me we don’t build right up next to each other to sell our wares, hoping to snag a few who might otherwise enter the outlet of our neighboring competitor. Tell me we are somehow unified in all of this in ways I am just too blind to see for myself. Tell me we can be neighbors, united in Christ, with shared responsibility in the Kingdom, in new and different places, for the glory of God.

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(For additional reading, with guided conversations for your small group, please click the link below. Thanks to all who buy and share)

Let's Talk: Eleven Conversations for People Wo Take Life, Faith, and the Church Seriously

Consider further. This same church has an additional policy for members who miss six consecutive weeks. After three weeks of absence, members are contacted to see how they are doing and where they have been. If they miss an additional three weeks, six consecutively, these members are removed from the roll and roster altogether. How do you feel about these policies now? Are these best practices for any church who takes membership seriously?

Further still. Same church. You missed thrice and were contacted. Now you’ve missed six weeks, and you are contacted again. This time you are notified that your former church has formally removed you from their number AND that you are responsible for back payment on the tithes and offerings you failed to contribute over these past weeks of formal absence. Again, just to be clear on this – you are sent a bill from this church demanding you pay what they expected you to contribute over the past six weeks. Well? How does this one strike you? Hmmm…

This past week I spent a few days with some Kingdom workers in western Idaho. Men and women, these were all leaders in some form or fashion with their respective faith communities. Churches were represented from three different time zones in our meetings, insights drawn from congregations of ten to a thousand or more. At various times we heard from lay leaders and ministry professionals, some new to the faith and others lifetime church attenders. Our eclectic little group met to study and share, to pray and worship, to eat and commune, to laugh and cry and lament – to seek insight, understanding, and direction. From Scripture. From the Holy Spirit. From one another. We told stories and processed our individual experiences of God and His people. The thought exercise you just considered is an actual account of policy and procedure from a local church near one of our participants. It may be the practice of a church near you as well.

As I reflect on this past week, I wrestle with some of what we discussed in our time together. Clearly, the above scenario was notable for me. I like the idea of church leaders checking in with their people. I also think “membership” (not a biblical concept as we practice this today) should come with some level of expectation from organizations and their officers. Beyond this, I’m pretty well sickened by the idea of dues and fees (“tithes and offerings”) mandated by governing boards and corporate policies. I’m not a fan.

I also learned of a church this past week that is beginning a capital campaign to renovate and replace their existing facilities. This is nothing new – the church with whom I participate locally is also raising funds for similar purposes. When we choose to build and maintain facilities, we choose to build and maintain facilities. It’s part of our organizational (often institutional) ethos. Roofs and parking lots and carpet and plumbing – all parts of the equation here. All of these are important (and sometimes expensive) for churches who deem them so. But to what extent? I’m not sure I’m a fan of this either.

Here's another thought exercise for you, more concise and to the point this time. How much is too much for a group of people to spend on “church facilities” that exist primarily to serve the internal needs of their members? I recognize this question is subjective to the location, size, and socioeconomic factors associated with any group of people. Ten thousand or ten million – it all depends on whose money and where (not so much why, despite what we tell ourselves and our constituents). In principle, how do you feel about any church raising tens of millions of dollars, largely for renovations to existing facilities? That feels like a lot of money to me.

At the heart of all our discussions this past week was the topic of discipleship. Of this particular issue, I happen to be a fan. This piece will always be more pressing and important than attendance policies and capital campaigns. If we get discipleship right, these other matters may right themselves over time. Discipleship is about following Jesus with all that we have and helping others follow him as well. To a room full of Kingdom workers, this is the most important thing we endeavor to understand and implement, for ourselves, our families, our churches, neighborhoods, and surrounding communities. We want to follow Jesus – at least we think so – and we earnestly seek to understand how.

Discipleship is sorely neglected in many churches. Among other reasons, I believe this is due to our inability to quantify spiritual growth in meaningful ways. People measure things they can count. Churches keep attendance records that enable leaders to track our participation in corporate assemblies. Likewise, they count dollars to determine budgets and execute capital campaigns. We believe these are all markers of discipleship, and on some level they are. Unfortunately, true discipleship is about much more than attendance numbers and financial offerings – especially when motivated by corporate initiatives and governed through institutional policies.

At its heart, discipleship involves real, honest, and caring relationships. To what extent is this quantifiable? I suppose we could count how many of these we share and how often we meet with those people – churches love to count things like these. But I suspect that misses the point. I need people in my life who follow Jesus with all they have, and I need these people to walk with me. I also need to follow Jesus with all I have and walk alongside others. Not at a prescribed time or place necessarily. Certainly not for the purpose of being counted. There are many times I have been present physically for a church service yet completely absent in my mind and spirit. I was counted, but for all the wrong reasons. I filled a seat. I put money in a tray. That may have been all I did on some occasions.

Back home in Colorado, I reflect on what discipleship means for my life and what implications it holds for my life in community with others. This is a both-and proposition for any of us who endeavor to follow Jesus. For me, I’m not sure what it looks like at the moment. The people I work with every day have little interest in Jesus. Most people with whom I share close relationships, the ones who endeavor to follow Jesus and walk alongside me, live hours and states away. I miss them. I need them. Unfortunately, “walking together” through conference calls and in Zoom meetings only gets you so far. I realized this past week what a blessing it is to gather with others who take Jesus seriously, whose hearts beat with his and who desire with all their being to follow him in all things. I don’t get that from most church folks. I’ve learned not to expect this.

So pray for me if you happen to think of it. Maybe pray for yourself as well. Pray that both of us find people who want to know and follow Jesus and help us do the same in return. May we endeavor to be mature and committed disciples. May others journey with us in this. May some even live close enough to see the whites of their eyes every now and then – to eat and play and laugh and cry and worship and serve together. May it be so. Amen.

(Also, grab a few of my books and share with your people. Link below. Thanks.)

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I want to be seen. I’ve always wanted this. To be recognized, valued, and appreciated. I don’t need my picture on the cover of your brochure, but I want to be included (meaningfully) in whatever program you are promoting. I would love to hold a position, office, or title with whatever organization you serve. I want to be known and remembered and referenced in conversations that occur beyond my immediate scope of friends and family. I want to be empowered and acknowledged. I want someone, anyone, to see me – to affirm the qualities and qualifications that (I think) describe me uniquely. I crave that affirmation.

Years ago, I was asked to serve on a planning board for a national ministry conference. I accepted immediately, interpreting this assignment as an honor received for the best and brightest and most successful amongst my peers. Others on this board fit these criteria, as far as I could tell. Why was I, an unknown personality from an unknown church in an unknown territory, chosen for this honor? I’ve never known for sure. Maybe because I represented a region that was largely disconnected to our conference. Likely because I had a close relationship with the event organizer. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. I had been seen.

Over time, I gained advanced degrees in theology and ministry. I earned letters to put after my name and accredited certificates to hang on my wall. I spoke at some events along the way and even presented at the same ministry conference that had seen and empowered me years before. Real or perceived, I was seen on stages and in classrooms, gaining credentials and accolades and an overly inflated sense of self in the process. No matter – I was seen. Recognized. Valued and appreciated? Those are topics for another day.

There are seasons of my life in which I felt seen. It’s been a few years since then. I’m no longer in Professional Ministry, and I have stopped trying to be seen in that arena. Now, through my current work as a fledgling Starbucks baristo, I find myself wrestling with the same things that hampered me in ministry all those years. I still want to be seen. I want to be recognized and empowered to something meaningful. Could someone please notice me for my skills in customer service? Maybe give me some props for bringing in better tips than my peers at the drive through window? I would love to be seen. I would love to get some props.

I’m convinced the field of Professional Ministry attracts people like me for some unhealthy reasons. What better industry is there for common, everyday people who want to be seen? Most of us know we can’t compete with actors, performers, or the people on our local news stations. Our best opportunities to be seen are on stages, in pulpits, at youth events, and in hospital rooms for parishioners of all ages. Others want to see us in these places. We are needed here. Toward this end, we are empowered and recognized. Seen. For those of us who need to be needed, there is something intoxicating and addictive about this kind of work. We are (typically) recognized and (sometimes) appreciated here. We are seen. We sometimes even get some props.

To be fair, many of the props we get in Professional Ministry are half-hearted, even insincere. It’s human nature to congratulate public speakers and tell them their messages are great even when they aren’t. I’ve watched someone sleep through my sermon just to tell me how much they enjoyed it when they saw me later. People do this all the time. Props to me, you say? You can keep those to yourself. I shouldn’t be in this business for the props anyway.

Many of my props in the past have been self-congratulatory. I’ve assumed props in the absence of others sharing in real and meaningful ways. I’ve been delusional at times, thinking myself seen, valued, and appreciated when these things were untrue. All those years I attended my annual ministry conference I told myself others saw me there. By and large, I assumed props through superficial social interactions, Looking back, it’s sobering to consider how many meals I ate alone during those events. I was never really seen in the ways I had imagined. Those props were an illusion.

Still, I wanted to be seen. Recognized. Appreciated. Empowered in meaningful ways to meaningful tasks, assignments, and posts. I wanted this then and I continue to desire this now. To be seen. To get the occasional prop.

Let me pause to clarify something here. It is not my intention to seek any spotlights. I am not an attention-seeker or a narcissist as far as I know. My goals in life do not include any type of award, and I am a little uncomfortable with public recognition in this regard. I am happy to serve others and do my work behind the scenes in my respective arenas. What I do want is for someone to recognize and appreciate my efforts. I want to be known – for who I am and what I do. I want others to see me as someone who makes a difference in this world, someone whose inclusion makes teams stronger and whose contributions are meaningful. I want to be seen in these ways. Any props can be offline, personal, without ceremony or fanfare. I just want to be seen. Props are a bonus; occasional affirmations to pacify my insecurities.

This week my former peers will gather for the annual ministry conference I attended all those years myself. Plenty will be there to learn and worship and recharge and encourage others. Some will attend with secret hopes of being seen. Recognized and appreciated among their peers. As with any social gathering, there will be some egos in the room – attendees who come to strut and brag, whether they realize it or not. There will also be many like me – people with deep insecurities who want desperately to matter in this life and hope someone, anyone, will recognize and appreciate them. People who want to be seen. People who don’t always get many props but would kill to have some every now and then.

While friends gather at this event, I will be handing out coffees at Starbucks. My work here is different, but my desire for recognition and appreciation are the same. I still want to be seen. For whatever reason, I simply can’t shake this. I know that God’s approval is all I need, and I know I have this already through Jesus Christ. I am seen by Him, always and forever. This is all that matters – I get it. Still, I have that craving. I want to be seen by my peers, by mentors, by others whose views and opinions matter to me. I would love to be recognized and appreciated and included and consulted and sought and valued. Every now and then I would love to even get some props.

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1. Salary and benefits. In the world of professional (paid) ministry, some do better than others. Preachers and senior pastors can make $100K annually, with full benefits, depending on their market. These are in the minority. Plenty of ministers make half of this (or less), often without insurance or other benefits. Even lower salaries exist for ministers whose primary work is outside the pulpit. There are plenty of careers out there that pay better, with opportunities for bonuses, raises, and career advancement. Professional ministry promises none of these.

2. Unrealistic expectations. Professional ministers are expected to perform all the defined tasks of their specific ministry area (pulpit, youth, worship), in addition to whatever implicit expectations may arise from their staff, elder board, or parent group from one day and season to the next. Ministry staffers are expected to attend every event and activity related to the life of a congregation, from fellowship activities to funerals, whether or not these relate to their primary area of ministry concentration. Some in paid ministry work 60-70 hours per week. Some lose their marriages and children in the process. Professional ministers are paid to be there. Everywhere. Always. But, as one executive minister once warned me, “Don’t ever miss a church function and use ‘time with your family’ as an excuse for your absence.”

3. Family pressures. In many churches, everything stated in point 2 also applies to the spouses and children of professional ministers. These are unspoken expectations that create tensions in marriages and resentment in ministry families. Churches treat ministry spouses differently than other church members and often have unfair expectations for the children of paid ministry staffers. When your spouse, your dad or mom, is expected to be everywhere always and to present themselves in a certain manner, so are you. You best be present. You best behave.

4. Personal experiences. I once worked with a church that fired their youth ministers every couple of years. The tragedy of all this dawned on me one afternoon in a conversation with one of my high school students. In her case, two ministers had been fired, one was on the bubble, and another would leave by the time she was in college. For students in this system, careers in professional ministry were a hard sell. Some of our young people have seen (up close and personally) firings, infidelities, gross irresponsibility, political battles, power struggles, church splits, and abuses of all sorts – from and among those of us who dared to do this work ourselves. Why would any of them choose this career for themselves?

5. Parents. Trust me on this. More than anything else, parents want their children to be happy in life. Happiness comes largely through financial independence and wellbeing. Careers in professional ministry limit our abilities to be “happy” in this regard, with nothing promised and a glass ceiling that is relatively low among comparable professions. Furthermore, as a parent who has steered my own child away from this career path, I also attest to the limitations of academic training in Bible and theology to qualify our young people for secular careers should they choose or need them in the future. Most parents I know would prefer their sons and daughters to be engineers and accountants.

6. Universities. Academic training in Bible and ministry doesn’t sell. These past few years I’ve watched my undergraduate alma mater reduce the number of courses and available degree paths for those who pursue this field of study. Faculty members leave for various reasons without suitable replacement. Institutions that once prioritized theological training have found new priorities that bring in more students, with more dollars.

7. Cultural relevance. Let’s face it. Professional ministry is an antiquated profession when compared to careers in video game design and information technology. Most professional ministers are employed by institutional churches whose work is to retain and attract constituents who agree more or less to a theoretical (albeit faith-based) proposition that results in venue-based attendance and financial contributions to fund the institution. For many, this is all the church has become, all the church does, and all the church really contributes to society – a place for people to assemble and a charitable cause to support with our finances. There are many other places to be these days and many great causes to support. Why work with an institutional church when you can find better connections and (possibly) more charitable causes to support at your local craft brewery? You may even find deeper and more meaningful ministry there. Make your money. Find your people. Honor and worship God. Do good for others. Elementary school teachers and mechanics and hair stylists are all capable of these. Their jobs are in demand; their careers understood and rewarded.

8. Fear. As one friend reminded me recently, the cost is (potentially) high for those who preach and teach the truth of God’s Word in a world that is increasingly hostile to this message. Do you want to be the one to interpret and proclaim what the Bible teaches about war, finances, sexuality, abortion, and the exclusive claims of Jesus as the only way, truth, and life for a fallen world? If you want a job with a target on your back, it may pay better to serve in the military.

9. Faith. With each passing generation, the number of people who believe in Jesus is consistently in steady decline. It makes sense that fewer professional ministers would emerge from generations that are increasingly less Christian. Churches spend more money than ever before on staff and programs for children and teenagers. Parents spend more time and money than ever before with travel sports teams and everything else under the sun. Neither does their best to nurture a deeply rooted, life-long faith commitment among their young people. Identity in Christ is waning with every passing generation. This is sad. This is scary. If we truly believe in Heaven and Hell. If we think God is real and His Word is real and His call for our lives is real – we should be really, really concerned about all of this.

10. Perspective. I will end on a hopeful note. I’m not sure if this is true, but I like to believe it is for some. Could it be that fewer people enter professional ministry these days because they understand ministry as something that is not the exclusive task of paid ministry staffers with institutional churches? Maybe some of our best and brightest and most faithful, Spirit-filled men and women see their work as more than weekly sermon preparation or planning quarterly getaways for teenagers. If only our “minister shortage” were the result of a plethora of churches who truly believe in a priesthood of all believers in which every person has a necessary and meaningful role to play in the life and work of their congregation and community. I want to believe this is happening more and more among those who are seeking God and prayerfully attempting to follow His lead, in and out of their institutional settings.

If you haven’t already, check out my book. Designed for discussion, with scripture and discussion prompts at the end of every chapter. Pick one up through the link below. Thanks!

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I completed our newest training module at Starbucks this morning. The focus this time was bloodborne pathogens: how to identify and safely clean when encountered in our stores. In short, baristas should exercise extreme caution when cleaning messes of diarrhea and vomit that appear to contain blood. I hope you aren’t eating while reading this post. If so, I apologize. The good news here is that normal, day-to-day, run-of-the-mill diarrhea can be cleaned with regular degrees of caution. It’s those darn bloodborne pathogens that complicate things.

I came home from my shift and shared all I had just learned with my wife. She was super interested, as you might expect. As I stood in the kitchen fussing about this newest piece of training, the thought occurred to me. Though cleaning up diarrhea is no picnic, it is in fact possible. This is why we received our training today. Diarrhea happens, and in the worst possible circumstances, someone must clean it up. My store provides us with gloves, chemicals, scrub brushes, and safety protocols to do this safely and effectively when necessary. We clean the diarrhea because we can. We clean it because we must.

Cleaning the messes occasionally found in a Starbucks bathroom is much easier than cleaning the messes we often find in our churches. Everyone at my store, baristas and customers alike, agrees there is no reason to leave diarrhea unattended when encountered in our restrooms. Church members feel differently about all this when we attempt to address the diarrhea at their place.

Here is a brief sampling of things you might hear when attempting to clean some good old-fashioned diarrhea at many of our churches.

“Who says that’s diarrhea? Nobody here seems too bothered by it.”

“We’ve had a diarrhea problem for some time now, but we don’t have the resources to deal with it.”

“No one here wants to deal with all the diarrhea, that’s why we hired a youth minister.”

“Diarrhea is our heritage. We are proud of our diarrhea and concerned for churches who aren’t saturated in diarrhea themselves.

“That diarrhea has always been there. If that diarrhea was good enough for my daddy and grandaddy, then it’s good enough for me.”

“Ever since Pastor Jim left, the diarrhea just hasn’t been the same.”

“We are concerned that our people are leaving for better diarrhea at other churches.”

“Our church is divided over all the diarrhea. Some want more and others want less.”

“At the end of the day, people want their diarrhea. Maybe if we offer fresh diarrhea in shiny new containers, we will see an uptick in attendance and offerings.”

At Starbucks, we clean up all the messes. We do this safely and effectively, for your sake and ours. This is exactly what we expect from the stores in which we shop and the restaurants that serve our coffee. Clean and sanitary spaces – these are what we demand and the things for which we strive. Messes happen – they always will. People clean them up. Because they can and they must and because we are right to expect this. There’s a place for diarrhea, and it’s not the bathroom floor.

Imagine if our churches were willing to recognize and address some messes of their own. Nasty as it is, cleaning up an actual mess of diarrhea in the Starbucks bathroom is much easier than cleaning the metaphorical diarrhea that defines some of our churches. We clean up the messes we can. Church messes are different animals entirely. Some of those simply can’t be cleaned.

If you made it to the end of this post, I applaud you. If you counted the number of times I used the word “diarrhea” you are worthy of double honor. In either case, I suspect you might appreciate my new book. Click the link below. Thanks.

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If you read my first post closely, you may have noticed an assumption embedded in the opening paragraph:

“Ours is a mobile society; cars are a necessity.”

Is this true? I’m guessing most of us would consent to this statement with little thought or reservation. Most Americans own a car (or truck, SUV, or van) – some of us have more than one. To be American is to be a car owner. We drive everywhere, from school to work to church to grocery stores and movie theaters. We frequent the drive-through lanes of our favorite restaurants and coffee shops. We make road trips. We drive to visit family and to see the Grand Canyon. Ours is a mobile society. But are cars truly a necessity?

Stay with me here. I’m not about to suggest churches unnecessary by comparison. That said, I do think we benefit from some critical thinking here.

Why do we have cars in the first place? People need ways to get places. Cars meet a practical need in this regard, offering immediately accessible tools to enable personal transportation. The purpose of a car is to provide a “vehicle” for travel. For the wealthiest of us, the ability to own and operate our own car is a luxury we have mistaken as a requirement of sorts. Americans are entitled to cars, so we think. What would we do without them? How would we get to Starbucks twice daily for our caramel macchiatos? We don’t know how to live without our cars.

So, we assume everyone needs a car. You must have one. Your choices are new, used, or old.

I’ve been blessed to visit western Europe on a few occasions. Germany, France, Austria, Italy, and the Czech Republic. Guess what I didn’t see as often in these places. Cars. Significantly fewer cars. Hardly any trucks at all. Europeans find their way to school, work, and the grocery store without the need for every adult to own and operate a car. As far as I can tell, most of them are doing pretty well. They get to the coffee shops, clinics, and clubs just like we do – without need of cars.

If cars exist primarily as vehicles for transportation, we must recognize their place among a variety of options that exist for the same purpose. Cars are not our only means of travel. Unlike American culture, European countries have developed infrastructure to include trains, subways, and street cars that move people effectively almost anywhere they want to go. Buses, bikes, mopeds, and good old-fashioned walking get people everywhere else. Cars are a luxury here, but certainly not a necessity. Believe it or not, there are many people in the world who live their entire lives without owning or operating a car. New, used, old – irrelevant.

Consider for a moment the alternative of owning and operating a bicycle. This is something you see commonly in places outside the United States. Bikes are more affordable and require less maintenance. No need for gas or oil changes. No need for insurance. Bikes don’t require garages and are nimble enough to navigate diverse terrains. Bikes are accessible, economical, and practical. Bikes have certain advantages over cars.

On the other hand, bikes have a limited range, require physical exertion, and can be far less comfortable. Bikes are good until the weather is bad. Owning a bike will save you money but will cost you time and effort and a wet butt when you ride too quickly through puddles. Bikes have their disadvantages too.

“What does any of this have to do with churches? I thought you were making a comparison between cars and churches in these posts. Bikes? I’m not following.”

Do me a quick favor. As quickly as you can, make a list of all the people you know whose identities are tied to owning or operating a bicycle. Go!

How did you do? Who made the list? Lance Armstrong and who else?

Now, try the same exercise with car people. Owners and/or operators.

Did you focus on inventors and innovators (Ford, Musk)? Owners of acclaim (Penske, Leno)? Drivers par excellence (Andretti, Earnhardt)? Pop culture icons (Michael Knight, the Duke brothers, Dominic Toretto)? By comparison, car people are more iconic.

There’s something about cars that make them sexy. Bikes are utilitarian. Fairly basic, no frills. Cars, however, can be raised or lowered, their horsepower increased, their paint and wheels and interior all tricked out. Cars go fast. They catch our eye. There’s a reason models pose with cars. Not just women in swimsuits – James Dean also comes to mind.

“Again, where are you going with this? Get to the point already.”

My point is that Evangelical Christianity in North America is often limited in her thinking to assume (1) “cars” her only means and model for transportation, and (2) personalities associated with “car culture” most worthy of our admiration. In this comparison, churches compete as sexy cars, piloted by iconic drivers of various degrees. “Pressing to the prize” (Philippians 3) is less about sanctification and salvation, more about product and performance. Like it or not, your own church – fast or slow, rusted or shiny, perennial contender or always at the back of the pack – is evaluated by these means. Not just by outsiders. How recognizable is your brand? How large is your fanbase? Who is your driver and how recognizable are they to the public? For some of you, these are the very discussions happening in staff and leadership meetings at your own congregation. (Need more horsepower? Change up the worship service. Need to pass a few cars? Find a new driver.)

It's past time we “shift” our thinking here (pun intentional). The Kingdom of God exists in and through “cars” as much as it always has. I’m not saying we abandon these entirely. What I do suggest is some thoughtful discussion about other means and modes of being and doing church as Christianity marches forward. We have plenty of cars already. What we need is more bikes.

Imagine a small group of people, living in covenant relationships, meeting regularly to share and confess and eat and celebrate and pray and serve. What if this group could fit in a living room or garage or backyard or café, without need of rent or mortgage for a costly facility? What if everyone in this group played an active role in building up the others, with works of service and Christian maturity as the consistent objective (Ephesians 4)? What if professional drivers were unnecessary here, as everyone brought songs and prayers and words of encouragement to the group regularly as their personal contributions to strengthen and encourage the others (1 Corinthians 14)? What if funds were collected only as needed to support works of benevolence, rather than for marketing and advertising and merch and new paintjobs on cars that received new paint jobs a few seasons ago already? Like bicycles, these churches would be nimble enough to move forward as the terrain becomes increasingly challenging in our culture (politics, economy, worldview). Accessible: “come join us for dinner” resonates differently than “come visit our church service next Sunday”. Economical: no “tithes and offerings” to pay for staff salaries and building maintenance. Practical: everyone plays an active role here, using God-given talents and diverse personal resources to build up the body.

There are already “bikes” where you live. You don’t see these, because they don’t advertise. No billboards. No building expansions. No professional drivers representing their brands. So how do you find a group like this to begin with? “Who are they and where do they meet and how do I get involved?” Fair questions. But maybe the wrong questions. Maybe your neighborhood or co-workers or friend group needs someone like you to get something like this started in your own living room. The challenge can be daunting, but the possibility is real. Stop thinking cars and start thinking bikes. New, used or old? Leave that question to the car people. The future is not Tesla. The future is bikes. Star airing up those tires and oiling those chains – we’ve got plenty of ground to cover.

If you haven’t already, pick up a copy of my new book!

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Analogies are never perfect, but I will attempt one in these next two posts. Please forgive the clumsy portions of what follows - I’m painting with broad strokes here. There are people I know and love in each of the cars and churches outlined below.

Cars are like churches. There are many makes and models from which to choose, each vehicle with a history, some with better features than others. Drivers consider everything from gas mileage and reliability to hands free technology and interior fabrics when choosing their cars. Once particulars are established (I want a blue one!), there are at least three options for ownership.

New cars. Who doesn’t love the smell of a new car? Shiny and clean and perfect, without dings and dents, with no rust to be found. There’s something special about this for anyone who is lucky enough to enjoy this luxury. New cars are yet to hit potholes and no children have ever barfed in their back seats. New cars are exciting.

Used cars. We find a range of options here. Some are in good shape, “gently used” with low miles. Not quite new, but as close as you can get. Others are beaten up and worn. Cash only sales. Warranty? What warranty? There are good ones and bad ones in every used car lot – you never know what you’re going to get. Used cars are a gamble.

Old cars. I’m not talking about classic or collector cars here. What I have in mind are those my family has driven since I was a kid. Leaking transmissions, squealing fan belts, broken air conditioners, and torn upholstery. Old. Paid off long ago and plodding along – you hope. Old cars get older until eventually, they die.

Churches fall roughly into these same categories.

New churches. These are the church plants and satellite operations that pop up in strip malls, middle school gymnasiums, and city parks. “We are here to do a new thing.” Or, if you prefer, “God is doing a new thing here.” Energy and excitement surround these churches, with limitless potential on the horizon. Churches like these are too new to be worn or dented – the allure is something fresh and clean and shiny, without all the miles of an older model.

Used churches. What I have in mind here are “new to you” churches. Like-new in the sense that they have some miles under their belts, but all before you climbed in. These churches have done their best to refurbish and remodel when necessary to remain operational. Like the used cars above, these are always a gamble. Paint jobs and shiny rims don’t equate to better running cars. These churches will have issues, but they may be less apparent upon entry.

Old churches. These are the ones that limp along, either blind to their fate or unwilling to accept it. People choose old cars for a few reasons. Some have sentimental attachments to vehicles they have driven for ages, not wanting to let them go. Others are comfortable with outdated features they can understand and operate after years of personal experience. Still others can’t afford new cars, have never been to a car dealership, or have a general distrust of those who sell cars (new or used) in the first place. I suspect people prefer old churches for similar reasons.

Thus concludes part one. However, I feel one more comparison is in order here. With cars and churches, there is also the option to lease a model for a period – without ever actually committing to that car/church for the long haul. This category deserves a post of its own and falls just outside my immediate analogy. Maybe we will explore this topic another time.

Post two is on the horizon. In the meantime, pick up a copy of my book at the link below. Blessings on you, friends!

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I was contacted by another church leader asking how to get parents more involved in the student ministry program at their church. Ugh. I rarely had this issue in student ministry.

Friends, I would love to have this conversation. Indeed, I have tried. Often. Without much luck. Here are three reasons why:

1. As much as churches claim to be interested in this initiative, few are willing to make the investment of time and resources necessary to explore strategies and solutions.

"We would love to bring you in to meet with our leaders, equip our parents, or facilitate a seminar. Unfortunately, we don't have the budget for this." You budget for what you find important.

2. With the best of intentions, few of our churches (as represented by those who reach out in person) are willing to follow through beyond this initial inquiry.

"We need your help. We will talk to our leaders and get back to you..." Not likely. Follow-through rarely happens. Our intentions are good; our execution is sorely lacking.

3. Student ministry really isn't that important to our churches in the grand scheme of things. We hire staff and throw money at programming, assuming this will accomplish something more than a program of religious education or alternative activities to the otherwise secular environment of youth culture. This is often a best case scenario. I wonder how many churches look to accomplish more than this in the first place?

"We need more parents involved (or not) to serve as volunteers and facilitate our programs." Churches who overcome points 1 and 2 above can explore this fallacy - as soon as their leaders will discuss more than worship styles and gender roles and fundraising campaigns for building improvements.

As I have often stated before - I would love to be a resource for your church as we explore all this and more. I will meet with your leaders and your parents and your staff. We can have a seminar or workshop or retreat. I would love to help.

Thanks to those churches who have moved beyond the 3 points above to actively engage this issue. Parents are crucial to the spiritual formation of our young people. How we "involve" them in our ministries, and to what end is a topic that needs further, deeper, and more regular attention.

(For related topics, check out my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks.)

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We made the pilgrimage to IKEA again this weekend. In our early marriage, the nearest store was in a different state, over three hours away. We knew people who would carpool there on Saturdays. Now, we have a store within an hour. My wife loves the place, and I enjoy their meatballs. Say what you will about their funny product names and unassembled furniture, the IKEA café serves some quality items.

On our drive to IKEA yesterday, my wife and I had a lengthy conversation about the different ways we experience God speaking to us. We discussed scripture, prayer, prophecy, and the messages God sends through people we encounter each day. Each of us have stories of how God has prompted and convicted us at different times and through various means. The Holy Spirit is alive and well – nudging us to act and obey and do God’s will. If only we will listen.

Discerning the Spirit can be tricky. Subjective. Maybe even elusive. I’m not sure it’s supposed to work this way, but in my experience, it has. If God is trying to get my attention, if He is prompting me to act, I want to see and hear and be obedient to His will. Toward this end, my personal rule of thumb is this:

If you ever feel an impulse to act, to say or do something in a given situation that you might not typically do otherwise, you must consider this a God prompting. It may or may not be. You must at least consider the possibility. If the word or action is God-honoring, if it is not harmful but potentially helpful, you may have been given an opportunity. If that feeling persists, if you just can’t shake it, I suggest you act. Do the thing you feel prompted to do, whether it makes any sense to you or not.

As we finished our meatballs yesterday afternoon, I tore into one of those Swedish candy bars they sell near the cash register at the IKEA café. One chunk at a time, I consumed this with vigor, sharing reluctantly with my lovely wife. As we divided and shared, the Holy Spirit nudged. It had to be the Holy Spirit, because what followed was too weird to be a coincidence.

I knew there was an IKEA dock worker sitting alone at the table behind us. We saw this man when we sat down, just a regular guy in his work clothes, clearly on his lunch break. As we broke and shared our Swedish chocolate, I felt an overwhelming urge to turn around an offer a chunk to this random stranger. This felt weird to me. This seemed weird to my wife when I told her what I was about to do. It also felt (possibly) like one of those Holy Spirit moments I have tried to act upon when prompted. What did I have to lose? If he looked at me funny and rejected a hand-broken chunk of candy bar from a weirdo customer at his store, what else would I really expect anyway? That’s probably how I would respond if it were me in his shoes. No matter, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to do this.

I broke off a chunk and turned around. I offered and he actually accepted! He was on the phone at the time, so the only exchange we shared was a nod and a smile. I sat back down, and my wife looked at me like I was crazy. Oh well. I’m used to handing out samples at my day job – this really didn’t feel much different. Minutes later, as we were getting up to leave, the man stepped forward from behind us. This man had seen us pray earlier and assumed we were Believers. The chocolate-sharing exercise confirmed this and in turn prompted his own response.

“I was just on the phone with my wife. My brother passed away recently. His death has re-opened wounds in our family. My father has been absent from our lives, and this death brings all that up again. I miss my brother, and I don’t want to become my father. I am hurting and wrestling deeply. When I told my wife some random person offered me their chocolate, she reminded me again of the ‘God winks’ we receive in our lives to remind us He is there and that He loves and cares for us. Your small act of kindness was a God wink for me today.”

He teared up. I offered a hug. He accepted. From there, we discussed loss and pain. We talked about family and identity and fears of creating the same hurts for our beloved that others have caused for us in the past. We shared a beautiful exchange. Real and raw and revealing of our fragile nature as imperfect beings who are sometimes overwhelmed, scared, and seemingly alone. His “God wink” became mine as well. God winked at us both, over a piece of chocolate, in the IKEA café.

Winks. “God winks.” New language to me, but descriptive of moments I have experienced many times myself. God has indeed winked at me. I’ve never heard His voice, but I’ve received the voices of others – conduits of the messages He was sending. He has deployed people to be His hands and feet and spokespersons when I needed these most. I’ve been offered that piece of chocolate in more ways than one on many occasions. Praise God for all who have acted on those Holy Spirit promptings to minister to me, to offer those winks, when they were called upon to do so. God winks through his people.

So, what will you do the next time you’re standing in line at the grocery store and suddenly feel the urge to talk with the person in line behind you? What will you do with that weird compulsion to pick up the check for a random family at your favorite restaurant. Maybe you’re supposed to take some of those extra tomatoes from your garden and walk them across the street to share with your neighbor. Maybe that’s why you keep thinking about it. Maybe that’s why they keep producing. We must consider these moments, these impulses, these promptings. We must consider the possibility they are from God – nudges from the Holy Spirit to provide God winks for others.

Praise God for all the winks we are given. Praise God for deploying us at weird times, and through strange means to provide winks for others. Lastly, may God bless Carl, with whom I shared a wink, over a piece of chocolate, in the IKEA café.

(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

https://tinyurl.com/ra2pn5yh

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The other day I was slow to greet a customer at our register in the lobby. As luck would have it, she entered our store while I was in the back doing dishes. Alerted to her presence, I quickly dried my hands and rounded the corner to assist with her order. I apologized for her wait and explained I was in the back trying to knock out a quick load of dishes. Her response prompted this post.

“Dishes? That kind of work is for teenagers. You don’t need to be doing any dishes – that’s the sort of work I make my kids do at home! People like us have bills to pay – we can’t spend our time doing dishes. You shouldn’t be doing the dishes, Dave.”

As much as I hate to admit it, I used to think this way too. I still do, at times. I’ve battled with pride and ego and arrogance and snobbery – and lost those battles often. Not that long ago, I felt “too important” to do the dishes. Ugh. I’m embarrassed and ashamed as I share this confession. Please understand, I’ve never thought poorly of those who do dishes, I simply thought my own work would be different somehow. I’ve been spoiled a bit in previous roles where others did their dishes and mine without ever getting my own hands dirty. I always appreciated those who did the “dirty work” all around me – I simply may not have appreciated them as much as they deserved.

Imagine what my customer might have said had she caught me scrubbing our toilets. This is literally the dirtiest job in our store. The first time I was assigned toilet duty, it was a tremendous blow to my ego. Shame on me. Someone has to clean the toilets, right? Why did I ever think I was above this sort of thing? Again, I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit this. In the last year, I have scrubbed more toilets, washed more dishes, taken out more garbage, and cleaned up more sticky things than ever in my life.

I am better off because of this.

Most of my adult life has involved classrooms of one sort or another. I have listened to lectures and researched topics and written papers and taken tests and gained degrees. In other spaces I have also been a teacher and professor, presenting material, leading discussions, and assigning projects to others. I am quite comfortable in these places – sanitary environments in which we work with theories, concepts, and ideas. I’ve never needed to pressure wash dried up mocha sauce off a pitcher in these classrooms. There are no toilets to clog or spills to mop. Someone comes in every night and empties the trash cans in these places. I think? As far as I know? That person has never been me, so I never really thought about it. Once again, I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit this.

This new classroom I have found is teaching me different things – important things – that I need desperately to understand and appreciate. I am learning submission as I take direction from shift leaders and managers who are the same age as my own children. I am learning what long hours of physical work feel like, on my feet without comfort of a desk and chair. I am learning how to most effectively load an industrial dishwasher and how to throw over-filled trash bags into the dumpster without getting syrupy sludge all over my shoes and clothes. I am learning to be humble. I am learning to serve with a smile on my face and a toilet brush in my hand. I am being refined. Re-calibrated. Restored to a person God can and will use to better fulfill his purposes in the future – at least I hope so.

Looking back, I wish I had scrubbed a few more toilets over the years. I should have washed more dishes. These are not simply “jobs for teenagers” – these are regular, daily tasks for people like you and me. Some of us are just lucky enough to get paid for performing them! I’m thankful to have these experiences now. I truly am better off. Daily, God rescues me from myself – his grace and mercy evident through sinks and toilets and dumpsters and a change of heart I have needed for a long, long time.

So, bring on the dishes. Dirty the toilets and fill those trash bins. I’m working tomorrow, and I am up to the challenge. May all I do be for the glory of God. (And may you find success with hitting the target in your restroom of choice, especially when visiting my Starbucks.)

(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

https://tinyurl.com/ra2pn5yh

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This wasn’t our plan for today. We got up early this week with intentions to attend the corporate assembly as well as our respective Bible classes. We had our coffee. We watched the news. We agreed around our second cup of coffee that we wouldn’t make it to Bible class today. She watered the garden, and I made the bed. She fed and brushed the dogs. I played around on social media. As church drew nearer, we both realized how quickly our morning had passed. We needed to leave, and neither of us had even showered. Despite our intentions, we would not be present for church today.

After a lifetime of Sunday morning church attendance (my personal record is conservatively 95% or better since childhood), it’s an odd feeling to miss the weekly gathering with our local congregation. In my life as a professional minister, I was literally paid to be at church every Sunday. All I have ever known, all I’ve ever been required, is to attend church on Sunday mornings. Don’t get me wrong – these have been formative and meaningful experiences throughout my life. I’m thankful to have Godly people in my past and present with whom to gather for study and worship and fellowship and the occasional potluck. It is for some of these reasons I planned to attend our local assembly today. We simply didn’t make it.

I feel guilty for not being there. Mostly because this discipline of churchgoing has been ingrained in me from infancy. At the same time, I feel a new freedom to “skip” when I choose now that the church isn’t paying me to attend or counting my absences against me. I miss seeing a few people today. I don’t miss the pretense, the small talk, the pleas for my financial contributions. (Our church does better with most of these things than others we have experienced – significant reasons why we chose to participate with them in the first place.) I stopped “dressing up” years ago, otherwise I would appreciate a Sunday morning without need of suit or tie or fancy golf shirt. Most Sundays I attend worship in my work clothes, ready to clock in at Starbucks shortly after. Sundays function a bit differently for me now.

In recent years, the Sundays we have “skipped church” have often become opportunities for spiritual dialogue, study, and sharing among our family at home. Thanks to my wife (the leader of all spiritual initiatives for our family), we have completed Bible studies and in-depth workbooks with our teen and college-aged children. Our family has watched the Chosen series from the beginning – oftentimes as an alternative to the weekly corporate assembly in our local auditorium. My kids have shared thoughts around communion, and we have taken this together as a family. My attendance record “at church” on Sundays is the lowest it has ever been. My experience of meaningful spiritual engagement on Sundays, at home, with my family, has multiplied significantly over this same period.

I admire those who attend our big room corporate assemblies with joyful enthusiasm. I’m blessed to know many whose church attendance has nothing to do with guilt or obligation or fear of what others will think if they miss too often. I need these people in my life. I need to see and hear them worship and I need their spirit to rub off on me. These are the people who make corporate assemblies essential to my own spiritual health and development. These are some of the reasons I don’t plan to skip church again next week or on a regular basis here forward. I need to see Jesus in others.

There will always be need for corporate assemblies among fellow believers. This is where we worship and fellowship and encourage while reminded there are others in the world who compose our larger Christian family. Typically, these gatherings happen in big rooms – auditoriums, assembly halls, arenas. Other times, they occur in smaller spaces – living rooms, garages, coffee shops, and pubs. When we think of “church” (the gathering, the event), we envision worship leaders and public speakers addressing large audiences, from a stage, with a thoughtfully planned schedule of events designed to fit neatly into 60 minutes. Gatherings like these occur in big rooms. We count things in these spaces – minutes left on the clock, dollars offered through various means, and the number of people present. It’s easy to become a number here. It’s possible to be missed because our absence hurts the bottom line – the statistical averages suffer when bodies and dollars go missing. I’m painting with broad strokes here. I’m hopeful this is not the case for your church or mine.

For some, the corporate assembly involves fewer people, in more intimate spaces. Worship and prayers led by those moved to do so, devotional thoughts and encouraging words shared by those with something on their heart, communion offered from crystal glasses and plastic cups as found in kitchen cabinets and cupboards, offered by men, women, and children, for all to share as one. Bible studies happen here. Sermons happen here too – less polished, less constrained by time and less pressured to fill the allotted time. Worship happens here. No need for programs or presentations. No need for microphones, A/V booths, bulletins, ushers, or security guards. Hopefully, no need to segregate ages for children’s church or youth group so the adults can relax and enjoy a comfortable and controlled environment. All this feels a bit like “church” at home with my family. Could it be that the best way to nurture deep and authentic family-like relationships in our churches is to “do church” in gatherings like these? Something about this seems very biblical. Probably because it is.

Okay, so here’s the deal. My family needs your family to commit to something like this so we can gather in worship, prayer, and communion. My people need to hear encouraging words from your people, and hopefully mine have something encouraging to offer in return. Together, we need to study Scripture and wrestle with texts and share insights. Our kids need to lead some of these discussions – something they can do in living rooms and dining rooms and the basements in which we assemble at our respective houses. We need to assemble regularly, but not for the sake of attendance. Sunday nights might work better than Sunday mornings. We may need to take a week off every now and then due to conflicts that arise with work, life, or family. We may choose to assemble at a park or in a public space here and there to invite or involve new people in our community. We may even substitute a service project for our “worship service” a few times a year, leveraging our normally scheduled time for a slightly different purpose. All these are things being done through nearby gatherings scattered quietly around the place where you live. No signage. No buildings. No websites. You don’t even know they are there.

We are committed to ongoing participation with our local church here in Colorado Springs. Our family will be present for most of the big room assemblies, but not all. Some weeks we will miss, others we will skip. Not because we are “forsaking the assembly” or because we don’t care. Mostly because we are human, and with all other humans who aren’t paid to be there – including elders, deacons, and ministry leaders – we will sometimes be elsewhere. That’s not to say the big room assembly is unimportant, or to suggest we care less about this now than we have in the past. I continue to wrestle with the church I find in the New Testament compared to those I find today. There’s more to being and “doing” church than an hour on Sundays. There are other places to gather and with different groups of people. Jesus remains our hope, our message, our common bond – this must always be. But our modes and methods? The places we gather, the things we count and measure, the metrics used to determine “success” and “failure” in our churches? I’m not sure about all these. There should be more to our why, what and how that invokes critical assessment and creative solutions to the programs and presentations that have become commonplace in mainstream North American Evangelicalism.

Our plan is to be “back in church” this coming Sunday. I look forward to this. There are a few people I’m always glad to see, and I am thankful for the opportunity to worship alongside fellow believers. There may come a time when my family does this with a smaller group – in the living rooms, basements, and backyards of our respective members (participants). There’s something I like about this. If that day comes, maybe our little group can meet up with your little group and another little group nearby every now and then. We can get all our groups together and worship as a big group. We can serve together. We can support one another. We may need to rent a gathering space on occasion, but the expense will be minimal compared to the mortgage most churches carry from year to year. It will be worth the effort. The big room corporate assembly will always be special – the one place where we can gather a bunch of fellow believers and hear all the voices singing and see hope in all the faces and be reminded that we are not alone on this journey.

(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

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Here's the interesting part. As the horn next to me blasted, I spun my head to identify the driver. This was someone I knew! Since I’m sharing this publicly, let’s just call her “Margaret”. Margaret is an older lady I see regularly at the drive-through window of my Starbucks. I’ve gotten to know Margaret over the past year, following up regularly with her health issues, her neck problems, her physical therapy – all more than “here’s your coffee, have a nice day”. This is someone I know on a personal level, with whom I interact regularly. Margaret is always happy to see me, and I’m always happy to see her. In the Starbucks drive-through. We smile and interact and share details of our lives and presume to care about each other there – at the Starbucks drive-through. Not so much at the four-way stop in the parking lot of our local shopping center. Margaret laid on that horn! I’m assuming she didn’t recognize me.

This past Sunday I witnessed something similar on my way to church. At the intersection nearest to our church building, I watched a car just behind me turn on an “orange” light. The driver in an adjacent vehicle reacted immediately, blasting his horn at the offense. This was the angry horn – the same one I received from Maragret just days before. I took notice and watched closely to see what might unfold. Who knows what might go down when people get road rage – even on a Sunday morning. I watched in my mirror as both cars fell in line – and followed my van into the church parking lot! Both drivers were on their way to church. My church. They pulled into the parking lot right behind me.

Talk about awkward. I paid attention to where each driver parked and wondered if they would have any further interaction outside their vehicles. Fortunately, the middle-aged honker-man didn’t take things further with the elder grandma-honkee who elevated his blood pressure 90 seconds prior. Both exited their vehicles and walked into the building. No further interaction, aggression, or eye contact. I watched with great interest, this case study of fellow Christians – running lights, honking horns, irritating and irritated, and now walking (with a wide berth) into the same building to worship their Lord and Savior.

Here's the deal: I’m not perfect. I honk too. In fact, the horn in my car is well-worn. I give and I receive like many of you reading this post. There’s something about the security, the perceived anonymity, the temporal nature of brief exchanges that affect our behaviors behind the wheels of our cars. Everyday kind and sweet and soft-spoken people, little old ladies and pastors and healthcare workers – we all have tendencies to honk (or yell, or cuss, or wave fingers, or shake our heads disapprovingly as we accelerate past someone that has offended or annoyed or delayed us in transit). We assume we can honk when we feel like it without consequence. Horns are tools to make us feel better in the moment.

When Margaret honked at me recently, I was shocked. That’s not the Margaret I know. That’s just not like her. Or is it? My relationship with Margaret is defined by our roles as cashier and customer, exchanging niceties through brief interactions at the Starbucks drive-through. Though I’ve come to know her on a deeper level than most customers, Maragaret and I have a transactional relationship – we only talk when we are waiting on her drink to be made, and we only talk for as long as necessary to make our mutual wait less awkward. Margaret could be a terrible, miserable person as far as I know. At the point of handoff for her Venti Macchiato, Margaret presents differently.

What to think of my fellow church-attenders with their exchange this past Sunday? I could have been either of them myself, giving or receiving as I sped recklessly to the sanctuary. All this made me wonder: what would a church lobby interaction look like between these parties on a typical Sunday morning? I doubt they speak angrily or raise their voices or shake their fists. Church interactions don’t typically function like this. Outside the securities of our vehicles, without aid of a horn at our disposal, we tend to smile, to shake hands, to exchange brief pleasantries – even with people we may not particularly care for – in the sanctuaries and lobbies and hallways and bathrooms and parking lots of our church buildings. We smile, we are nice, and we do our best to present ourselves favorably. Maybe those people will never recognize me as the guy who honked long and loud when they cut me off during our Sunday morning race to the worship center. Maybe I won’t identify them either.

So, what do the Starbucks drive-through and the lobbies of our church buildings have in common? (Several things, actually – topics for another day.) These are both places where we play certain roles, largely transactional, socially defined as appropriate to their setting. We put on faces and behave nicely. We rarely get to know people in these places. We are not typically there to make friends. We happen to be in the same location for a few minutes, drawn by common interest (coffee and Jesus, respectively), not primarily for the purpose of getting to know each other deeply, authentically, genuinely – warts and scars and outbursts and car horns and all the rest the accompany the wretched parts of ourselves. Sadly, these are things that define those parts of ourselves that exist every day beyond our coffee shops and church buildings. We aren’t always proud of who we are or how we behave elsewhere. We camouflage and compartmentalize and maintain appearances appropriate to our immediate environment. We hope that smiles and handshakes and short conversations about the weather in the church lobby will be just enough to fool others about how horribly we might behave when they cut us off in traffic later. Admit it – you’ve done this yourself. I know I have.

I deeply identify with Paul’s lament in Romans 7. “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” As I reflect on all the horns I’ve heard – and used – recently, I feel called to say something about all this. What to say? I could write about the (in)appropriateness of unchecked aggression among Christian people. I could write about the shallow nature of interactions that occur weekly in our church buildings. I could write about our (un)Christian witness to a fallen world. Maybe something about duplicity or the compartmentalization of our spiritual and secular behaviors, routines, interactions with others. I suppose I’ve touched a bit on all these in the paragraphs above. More than anything else, I want to remind my readers of Paul’s lament in Romans. I keep coming back to this. Speaking for myself, I am, at the core, a wretched person. I will smile at you on Sunday morning and honk at you on Sunday afternoon. The face I present, the behaviors that accompany, the degree of social lubricant applied to or withheld from one interaction to the next – these vary by place and time, from one setting to another. What kind of person am I? What kind of person are you? What a wretched man I am, indeed.

Thanks be to God who delivers me and you (and the lady in our church who cut us off in traffic) through Jesus Christ our Lord! May we seek to follow him, to show and share Jesus in all we do. May we be light and love and less prone to honk at others – even when they are reckless and behaving like idiots. Every once in a great while you and I are the idiots in this equation. May others show us mercy in return.

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(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

https://www.amazon.com/Lets-Talk-Eleven-Conversations-Seriously/dp/B0CXRBQPQP/ref=sr_1_10?crid=24WC34RCTMQ7U&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.OQ98QewOpOuOfxSNAj_-MID9TvF1M-gon9UMJUjQKZtA_5c3Mo_NC8k4wiyc9nkwwXVKnA3t7RDhsSvATXX71FVi8YWm465wGiSQaEUofah4_QRynENTpDpTeG-l0zyAk1BpWF6ObG3CemKgoc6VhcuM2PBamj9On6tWQbTUAckpNrbrO0ckFaoiVkBrqXf-N1FoQ1SzOpAgVxdJ2VIDT4fkdSQeSkAgvX7iO-iXSXU.733HTYeKmH3VC4EgZeDxV_m86jbZv1QpXdIgbPO8ELQ&dib_tag=se&keywords=lets+talk+book&qid=1720996148&sprefix=lets+talk+book%2Caps%2C177&sr=8-10

Over the years I have attended playoff games in Portland (Trailblazers) and Houston (Astros), as well as one World Series game in Detroit (Tigers). I watched Bo Jackson hit a homerun live in Kansas City (Royals), and Dan Marino (Dolphins) throw a touchdown pass in Arrowhead Stadium next door. I’ve seen Aikman and Emmitt (Cowboys), Thomas and Okoye (Chiefs), Stafford and Johnson (Lions) – all live. I even met Barry Sanders (Lions) once at a sports card show and got his autograph! I paid for that autograph – something like $10, if I remember correctly. It was worth it to meet a legend.

When we moved to Colorado this past year, I began investigating tickets for all our sports teams. I was excited to take my family along to explore these venues, share these experiences, and see all our current players performing live from their various stages. This little exercise woke me up to a financial reality I had not anticipated. Turns out, when local teams become world champions, the price of their tickets increases significantly. I knew Broncos tickets would be expensive, but I did not expect this from the Nuggets or Avalanche. Yikes! I want to take my family, but I’m not sure we can afford (justify?) the $500 or more it will take for poor-to-average seats at any of these events. Ugh. Maybe one of my readers has tickets they need to pass along – I will put these to use, if you like…

This past week I received a barrage of advertisements for an upcoming Christian conference in Denver. For whatever reason, the algorithm continues to put links and promo pieces in my news feed, making it nearly impossible to look at social media without seeing some type of ad for this event. The advertisements are striking and clean, with pictures of celebrity headliners who will speak and perform. I will hand it to the marketing team – they did a really good job promoting this event.

After scrolling past a few of these advertisements, I became curious enough to click the link and read further. I am the target audience for this event, after all. I’m a Christian. I attend events. I buy tickets for entry into sporting venues, why not buy some for Churchy things as well? Why wouldn’t I want to learn more about “Worship, Wisdom, Work, and Wealth”? Why wouldn’t I want to “create and multiply financial resources for Kingdom Impact”? This sounds pretty good. Worship with a famous recording group, hear messages from professional athletes and reality TV stars, and learn how to multiply my financial resources! Surely this is a better use of my hard-earned, ticket-buying resources than a stupid football game. At this event I can learn how to become wealthy – for Jesus. That sounds way better than spending $20 on a beer and hotdog at a playoff ballgame where my team might lose anyway. Spend less. Make more. Collect a win – guaranteed.

Increasingly curious, I looked at ticket prices for this event. Cheap seats were comparable to those at a Rockies game (you get what you pay for in this comparison). If you have $50 and you want to attend, grab your ticket before it’s gone – this conference continues to sell out venues in major cities across the country. Okay. Nothing crazy here. Knock yourself out if this is your cup of tea.

Here’s what got me. Like similar events, various pricing tiers accompany this conference. The closer to the stage you want to sit, the more your tickets cost. To incentivize early registration, there are early-bird, discounted rates for those looking to save money. On the day I inquired, the special rate for a premium seat was just under $400. Mind you, this came with VIP access, photos with select presenters, and a keepsake wristband. That better be one spectacular wristband…

I’ve wrestled with this for days. I’m trying to identify the emotions I feel relating to this event – its focus, its presenters, its cost. I bounce from saddened to confused, irritated to angry. Initially, I shared a snarky thought or two on social media. I have since deleted these posts. One friend suggested I write something more helpful to guide our thinking about such things – something more than a knee-jerk comment or two on Facebook. I’m taking his advice. Here are some questions for us all to consider before mortgaging our houses to attend events like these.

1.      What are we financing here? If every penny of my ticket went to a local food pantry or to drilling freshwater wells in Africa, I would feel differently about this expense. Use these funds to stop sex trafficking. Build clinics and schools in poverty-stricken areas. If my $400 ticket covers the cost of reality TV stars making appearances to tell me how to become wealthy – as they profit financially from my ticket – this may not be worth the cost of admission. If you want to pay for Christian celebrities to become wealthier, you are free to do so. All in the name of Jesus.

2.      Why does it cost real dollars to attend a “worship” event? At least tithes and offerings are typically voluntary when we attend similar gatherings with our local churches. Pay or not – it’s up to you. In this case, we are disallowed entry without a cover charge. I understand seating is limited, and I don’t have an issue with providing stipends for those who lead this part of the conference. I do wonder how much all that should cost – if anything. It has always felt to me that worship comes without a cover charge. If this is less “worship” and more “concert” this another conversation entirely. I may like that reasoning better – at least when I’m paying for admission.

3.      What makes these speakers credible? Maybe it’s just me, but if I want to learn about something, I want to learn from an expert. This is why I went to seminary. I trust Tom Silva to teach me about home repairs on This Old House. I listen to Gordon Ramsey when he tells me how to cook a steak. Granted, both men are pop celebrities – famous for expertise in their respective industries. If I spend $400 to attend a conference of any sort, I expect the presenters to be the most learned, most experienced, and most credible in their fields. Celebrity is secondary to all this. Sure, you played professional football, wat does this have to do with the Gospel? Maybe the guy with his reality TV show will lead us through some deep theology. Maybe. Maybe not.

4.      What is the theme or focus of the event in question? The conference in question here is arguably focused on the increase and proper use of wealth as its primary topic. Again, this is not all bad. If there is one thing these presenters are qualified to speak about, it is the accrual and increase of wealth in their personal lives and among their corporate brands. Jesus also had things to say about wealth and use of personal possessions. I missed the part where he told us to get and use more of it so we could get and use more of it. If this conference were about Worship, Wisdom, and Work, maybe I would be more interested. Maybe they could just drop the Wealth component. Would the resulting event still be worth $400 to attend? How would this affect the return on our investment? At best, we would gain admission to worship with the professionals.

5.      Why am I drawn to this event, personally? This is the reflective question. Am I drawn to celebrity? Is my picture with a famous athlete the thing I find most appealing here? Maybe it’s the keepsake wristband – or T-shirt, or goodie bag, or promotional poster, book, or album. Maybe there are drawings involved where any one of us could win a vacation or an autographed guitar or some gift cards or an access code to our favorite Christian media providers. Maybe I will pee at a urinal next to a megachurch pastor. It could happen! If none of this is appealing, maybe events like these are right for you. Good things do happen here – I am confident of this. Good people present. Good people attend. Jesus is preached and worshipped and taught in various ways that may resonate with you in different ways than they do with me. I’m okay with all of this, and I want Jesus to be our focus – my focus – always. So attend whatever conference you like you like. Spend as much as you want to be there and don’t feel bad about it. But do ask yourself why. Why this event? Why this expense? Why these speakers, this venue, this topic? Is this your best use of time and money? Will this experience make you a better and more committed Christ-follower? Will you be content if you pull up to that urinal without anyone special next door? What if the keepsake wristband is too tight or it breaks on the drive home? In the event your celebrity photo has bad lighting or comes out blurry, I hope you had better, more meaningful reasons for attending in the first place.

(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

https://www.amazon.com/Lets-Talk-Eleven-Conversations-Seriously/dp/B0CXRBQPQP/ref=sr_1_10?crid=24WC34RCTMQ7U&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.OQ98QewOpOuOfxSNAj_-MID9TvF1M-gon9UMJUjQKZtA_5c3Mo_NC8k4wiyc9nkwwXVKnA3t7RDhsSvATXX71FVi8YWm465wGiSQaEUofah4_QRynENTpDpTeG-l0zyAk1BpWF6ObG3CemKgoc6VhcuM2PBamj9On6tWQbTUAckpNrbrO0ckFaoiVkBrqXf-N1FoQ1SzOpAgVxdJ2VIDT4fkdSQeSkAgvX7iO-iXSXU.733HTYeKmH3VC4EgZeDxV_m86jbZv1QpXdIgbPO8ELQ&dib_tag=se&keywords=lets+talk+book&qid=1720996148&sprefix=lets+talk+book%2Caps%2C177&sr=8-10

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Toddlers have energy that most of us lose over time. Toddlers are fascinated by things they see and hear that escaped our own interest years ago. Toddlers experience joy and wonder in ways we have long forgotten. Toddlers stumble around with their food-covered faces and saggy diapers, chewing on the dog’s toy they recently swiped from the cleaner and more sophisticated animal sleeping on his bed in the corner. Not a worry. Not a care. Not any recollection of how or when that Cheerio became lodged in their belly button.

Somewhere toward the end of toddlerhood, these people start talking. The first words are unintelligible, the next quite basic. Things like “mama” and “dada” and “ball” and “MINE”. Ever have a conversation with a drunk person? This is a lot like talking with a toddler. However, for the astute toddler – for the precocious child with an inquisitive mind, there is an additional word that surfaces early on. One that while often maddening, is incredibly helpful to our own, adult thinking.

“Why?”

Look, Billy, there is a bird in the sky. “Why?” Because birds fly. “Why?” Because God made them with wings. “Why?” Time for a nap, Billy…

So *why* am I sharing all this today? Because I firmly believe every church committee, every group of deacons, every board of trustees, or governance council, or eldership, or boardroom of professional church staffers could benefit from a toddler or two in their meetings.

Church leaders are notorious for doing things without asking why. We do this or that because we always have, because it is our tradition, because he or she or that family or those dollars want it to be so. We struggle to think critically and bristle at the thought of change. Imagine how this could be different with the addition of a toddler to our regular leadership meetings. Consider the following. The scene unfolds at a committee meeting in which participants begin the early planning stages for their annual church potluck and “outreach” event:

Committee Chair (CC): “…Yes, we spent a lot of money to install the playground equipment outside our auditorium just a few years back.”

Toddler: “Why?”

CC: “For our kids. Now it is time to plan our annual church potluck and outreach event. We should probably rent a bouncy house for that afternoon. The budget is really tight, but I think this is worth the expense.”

Toddler: “Why?”

CC: “Umm, for all this visitors’ kids who we hope will attend? The goal is to bring them in. Kids want places to play and parents want things that will make their kids happy.”

Toddler: “Why?”

CC: “Because visitors will love the novelty of a bouncy house and the inclusion of this attraction will draw them in. This is an outreach event, after all. Now, let’s move on. Some of our own parents are concerned about the safety of our kids at the church picnic, so we will put the bouncy house safely behind the church building to make it less visible to the community. If it will fit, some have suggested we put it inside our gym.”

Toddler: “Why?”

CC: “Because we don’t want to attract the wrong element.”

Toddler: “Why?”

CC: “Could anyone else use a coffee break?”

Notice what happened here. Someone at the table asked the most important, often most uncomfortable question for these leaders to consider. “Why?” What is the purpose of all this, and how will these decisions affect our ability to achieve our pre-determined, stated outcome? Asking *why* is a necessary prerequisite to matters of what and how. “Why?” This question should be the starting point for all our meetings, all our agenda items, and all the decisions we make with and for our people (and our communities - even the “wrong elements” that compose these groups).

“WHY?”

I’ve asked this question often. It is rarely well received. We do what we do because that’s simply what we want to do and that’s simply how it’s going to be. “Why?” Never mind this. Get with the program and go with the flow. Have you ever wondered what would happen if one lemming – just one – were thoughtful and brave enough to ask this question of their peers?

“I know we have always rushed toward the cliff in unison, jumped into the waters and drowned. I get that it is our tradition and I know we all have special memories of previous generations plummeting to their inevitable death. But have we ever stopped to ask why? Why do we do this? Hear me out, fellow lemmings – we might not be thinking this through…”

The oldest and most experienced of toddlers can’t help themselves. They ask why. It can be repetitive and annoying at times. Adults often reply with things like “because I said so” either because they don’t want to think about these inquiries or because they might not have great answers to these questions. I’ve been in meetings with adults like these on more than one occasion. You may have been too.

So, I submit the following for your consideration. Every leadership group in your church and mine should require at least one toddler at the table in every meeting that occurs here forward. The job of the toddler is to ask *why* when the adults in the room are unwilling or unable to ask this question themselves. Bring on the toddlers.

(If you appreciate this post, you might like my new book. Copies available through the following link. Designed as a conversation-starter for you and your people. Thanks for checking it out.)

https://www.amazon.com/Lets-Talk-Eleven-Conversations-Seriously/dp/B0CXRBQPQP/ref=sr_1_10?crid=24WC34RCTMQ7U&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.OQ98QewOpOuOfxSNAj_-MID9TvF1M-gon9UMJUjQKZtA_5c3Mo_NC8k4wiyc9nkwwXVKnA3t7RDhsSvATXX71FVi8YWm465wGiSQaEUofah4_QRynENTpDpTeG-l0zyAk1BpWF6ObG3CemKgoc6VhcuM2PBamj9On6tWQbTUAckpNrbrO0ckFaoiVkBrqXf-N1FoQ1SzOpAgVxdJ2VIDT4fkdSQeSkAgvX7iO-iXSXU.733HTYeKmH3VC4EgZeDxV_m86jbZv1QpXdIgbPO8ELQ&dib_tag=se&keywords=lets+talk+book&qid=1720996148&sprefix=lets+talk+book%2Caps%2C177&sr=8-10

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