The Traveling Companion: episode 4

I just started my next to last class for my D.Min at Perkins - Spiritual Leadership in Missional Churches. One of our assignments is to keep a journal during the 2 weeks of class. I decided to blog mine...

I really like my boys’ names. I know, I better, right? But really, I do. Each of their names are significant and meaningful. All of our boys carry the Wells family name, which of course I was proud to pass on to them, but that isn’t the extent of it.

Conner is Rachel’s mother’s maiden name. With the recent passing of MeeMaw and PeePaw - people who were not only formative in the lives of Rachel and her family, but also in my own life and that of our boys - I am so proud that my oldest son will carry their mark in a special way for the rest of his life. His middle name, Allan, is my middle name as well. Its strange, I didn’t like that name as a kid, but now I feel much differently about it.

Micah was a great prophet and I have always loved the passage in Micah 6:8

“ He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

This was made all the more important to us when we learned that it was PeePaw’s favorite verse as well. Micah’s middle name, Eason, is my mother’s maiden name. I think its pretty cool that our boys have imbedded in their identity a reminder that all families are examples of God’s reconciling work of uniting people who were previously strangers.

Josiah was a good king...I hope that our little assassin will also use his powers for good! In Israel’s history there are very kings that come across well in Scripture and Josiah was one of them. I hope that my son, a child of the king, will follow in the footsteps of his namesake (except for the ill-advised battle against the Egyptian army...). His middle name, Christopher, is also my little brother’s middle name - a name which I had the honor of choosing for Adam too. (Actually I think it was more my stubborn insistence and a mother’s relenting, but that’s another story!)

Naming has always carried great significance - both relationally and often prophetically. Today in class we watched a movie - The Secret Life of Bees - and there is a powerful scene where a community bestows a new name on a young lady who has experienced a long and difficult journey toward healing and redemption. The naming not only signifies new life and a new chapter in her story, but it also communicates her acceptance into the community...into the family.

Look at the number of times in Scripture that God gives someone a new name - Abram to Abraham, Sarai to Sarah, Jacob to Israel, Saul to Paul just to name some of the big ones. In each case this is about more than just a new driver’s license. Rachel took my name when we were married, signifying that no longer did we represent two separate clans, but were now one family. This name she accepted as her own was one that was offered to me when my own Dad adopted me into his family. None of these situations were insignificant.

The giving or changing of a name is a change of life. It is new life. And that is part of what makes community so powerful. Even if we don’t legally change someone’s name, a commitment to devoted community bestows new identity. When we choose to throw in our lot with a people something significant occurs. In our society it is all too common to devalue this incredibly sacred decision. Abba Antony said, “Wherever you find yourself, do not easily leave there.” I believe that it is time for us to reclaim the value of stability and choosing to remain connected to a community, to embrace and live into our name.

As a society we are lonely and scurry around busily searching for meaning and significance. If we will slow down and invest in the people around us we may find that God has been waiting to use those broken and flawed people to teach us precisely what we’ve been searching for.

The Traveling Companion: episode 3

I just started my next to last class for my D.Min at Perkins - Spiritual Leadership in Missional Churches. One of our assignments is to keep a journal during the 2 weeks of class. I decided to blog mine...

My oldest son talked my wife into letting him get a mohawk...and then he looked mohawks up on wikipedia and learned that they're named after an American Indian tribe, are typically associated with warriors and apparently a really old cave man body was discovered at some point with the same haircut. That's what my son does when he gets excited about something, he learns everything he can about it. But it doesn't stop there - he internalizes and personalizes what he learns. He didn't just learn about mohawks, he got his mother to cut his hair that way.

I wish that more of us were like my son. He doesn't fall into the trap of paralysis by analysis. He's just as obsessive as I am (which brings me no small measure of pride) and will literally sit for hours on end reading things like an encyclopedia, fact book or his beloved world atlas. But then he devises games using the books and wants everyone to play with him; he shares what he learns with everyone else and creates different ways to put his newfound information into practice. (he even has a "learn something every day" blog - you should check out his post on mohawks).

Today we spent a good deal of time discussing different ways to introduce missional ecclesiology to a church, as well as potential contexts for connecting with non-Christians in missional ways. I've been thinking a lot about my own experiences with folks in both Mandeville and Burleson, as well as different churches and groups that have asked me to talk about this stuff with them.

Perhaps this is part of the whole "faith like a child" thing that Jesus talked about. We often talk about childlike faith in terms of innocence or simplicity. But maybe it is that wide-eyed desire to learn and grow and immediately apply what we discover. But just as with the question of salt loosing its saltiness, I wonder how do we regain our youthful excitement about and expectation for growth when its faded?

I've seen God break through these barriers in people's lives - including my own - I know for a fact that it can happen. It can happen in stubborn 20-somethings and it can happen in stubborn 60-somethings. I'm learning to embrace the mystery of how the Spirit breaks down these walls and I'm becoming more and more comfortable in my own helplessness. I am not an expert here to fix a congregation's problems or fix a spiritually confused sojourner. I am, as a wise friend says, simply one hungry beggar sharing bread with others.

The Traveling Companion: episode 2

I just started my next to last class for my D.Min at Perkins - Spiritual Leadership in Missional Churches. One of our assignments is to keep a journal during the 2 weeks of class. I decided to blog mine...

It is so easy to forget how often Jesus withdrew to a solitary place. It is hard to remember that much of his time was spent walking from one town to the next, in conversation with a handful of friends or sitting at a table conversing with extremely interesting people. We remember the miracles. We remember the loaves and fishes. We remember the Sermon on the Mount. But we forget the wedding. We forget the nap in a boat. We forget the disappearing act that happened just before the walking on water. We remember the sweat-drops of blood but forget the garden.

It is so easy to forget how often Jesus gave away ministry. We forget the disciples being sent out, we forget the woman running to tell her friends, “Come see the man who told me everything I’ve ever done!” We forget that Jesus said, “It will be better for you if I go.” We forget that he said, “You will do greater things.” We forget that he said “Go and make disciples.”

It is so easy to forget that Jesus changed people’s lives because he was in their lives. He was typically around the hurting and broken people when he healed them. He could say he loved the poor, because he knew the poor. He could say he loved the sick because he touched their arms. He could say he loved the weak, oppressed and overlooked because that’s precisely the world he was born into. Its so easy to forget that sitting around talking about the poor or the kingdom or the gospel doesn’t mean that we’re inherently involved in those things. But Jesus was. Its easy to forget that we weren’t called to start a religion in his honor, but to live as he lived.

Its easy to forget that without me, the sun stays in orbit, the birds sing and the rain falls. Its easy to forget that I’m not God. Its easy to forget that those who frustrate us by saying, “I’ll be poured out for others, just not too much,” are still loved by God. Its easy to forget that the pastor who forgets to say, “I’ll be poured out for others, just not too much” is already loved by God. We don’t have to become a self-inflicted martyr to impress our Creator.

Its so easy to forget. And that is precisely why we must remember.

We must remember that Jesus announced, "Repent! The Kingdom of God is at hand!" We must remember because there are people on our block, just down the street or in the next office who have no idea that Jesus is even now creating and unleashing a new kingdom for them to experience joy and fulfillment beyond measure.

We must remember because Jesus taught us to pray, “your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” We must remember, because it wouldn’t be an appropriate prayer if Jesus didn’t already know it could happen at some level.

We must remember because we cannot hope to lead and participate in a missional expression of faith - that is as a church joining our missionary God in the ministry of reconciliation - if we can't remember that God is God and we are not.

Its so easy to forget and that is why we must remember.

The Traveling Companion: episode 1

I just started my next to last class for my D.Min at Perkins - Spiritual Leadership in Missional Churches. One of our assignments is to keep a journal during the 2 weeks of class. I decided to blog mine...

MONDAY, JUNE 14

When I came to Perkins I expected to have to recontextualize most of my course content. I felt good about the program but didn’t really expect that a mainstream denomination school would really understand my very not-mainstream church planting context. I was okay with that because I just didn’t imagine many advanced programs (yet) would be much different and the folks at Perkins seemed generally excited to have a missional church planter in the program. Last semester’s efforts at digging deeper into the new monasticism have been deeply transformational for me, Rachel and the Chappotins...nobody is able to know me and not experience what I’m experiencing!

And now I’m in a class with 6 other folks and a great professor exploring spiritual leadership in missional churches!!! I didn’t expect to find any classes this tailored to our experience in pioneering new mistakes!

Today was a good start. We began with a spiritual formation exercise in which we fleshed out a metaphor for leadership development using the image of a mountain range. I want to unpack what I drew.

But first, I also want to mention a quote that grabbed my attention. In an interview describing her departure from “professional ministry” Barbara Brown Taylor was asked if doubt played a role in her decision. She said that doubt caused her to poke and pry at her beliefs and issues of faith, and whenever something toppled over she knew that was an idol. Wow! Just last night, Rachel and I were talking about the misconception that doubt is the enemy of faith. I told her that I believe it is fear, not doubt, which is the true enemy of faith. Barbara Brown Taylor beautifully described why doubt is not the enemy.

But back to the mountain metaphor:

Early on as we attempted to lead other leaders up this mountain (a metaphor we’ve used explicitly) we tried to get people to pack appropriately. In reality all of us, myself very much included were trying to carry too much luggage up this steep terrain. Our packs were loaded to capacity and in addition to that 80 lbs many of us were also carrying an extra duffel bag, toiletry bag, computer bags, printer/fax/copier combos, kayaks, hairdryers, stuffed animals, televisions, an Xbox and a 30 volume leather bound commentary set from 1950.

Eventually as we tried to readjust our packs we began to realize that 1) we’d simply overpacked. Some stuff was good, we just couldn’t carry it all - we’d have to distribute the load amongst the group and share resources. Also 2) some stuff just didn’t translate well in the new terrain. It didn’t make sense to try to carry some of the heavy programming stuff that seemed so essential at base camp.

But trying to get everyone to be willing to let go of their teddy bears and comfort blankets was just too much. We simply had to get to climbing and then give people permission to drop their extra stuff along the trail when they got tired of carrying it.

When that point came, however, sadly some of our traveling companions decided they’d rather turn back to base camp rather than part with their extra gear. We’ve met other travelers along the path. We’ve met some along the way who grew too tired to continue and are even now sitting on a rock just off the path, too tired to continue but not sure they can find their way back down the mountain...or that they’d even like what they returned to if they did.

We’ve encountered some who decided they’d traveled far enough and erected a chapel with a nice view of the scenery where they could sing about mountain climbing...with their packs and hiking boots sitting in a neat pile outside.

Truth be told, that was a tempting option for a while. But we’re climbing again.

We catch glimpses of other hikers up ahead - some even seem to have balanced their loads. One of our greatest temptations now is to resist the urge to pick up the extra gear they’ve discarded.

We’re also meeting lonely hikers who are woefully under-equipped and facing great peril by traveling alone. We’re inviting them to experience the safety of climbing with a group. Some have had some bad experiences with mountain climbing expedition groups - some got stuck in the chapels we passed along the way and don’t want to do that again. But we find that as we share food and shelter they often begin to realize that a community on journey together can indeed be a great thing.

I don’t know what the top of this mountain will look like, I don’t even know what lies over the next ridge, I just know that I’m being drawn upward and the scenery is more amazing each morning.