Always learning

Just watched the Bulls defeat the Suns, a pretty surprising victory given how hapless a basketball team the Bulls have been for much of this season. Down by twelve points and the game clearly over with under a minute to play, the Suns took two timeouts. In each timeout their coach drew up a play.

For the fan waiting to celebrate the victory or wanting the futility to just be over, these timeouts are pretty frustrating. But to a team that is learning for a future game, it's good strategy. And it's not only good for the losers. I'm sure that while the Suns were drawing up plays to use in the future, so too were the soon-to-be-victorious Bulls. A timeout, after all, is time designated for learning.

It's a simple commitment, to always keep learning, but it's a commitment that is easy to break both when things are going well and when things have gone bad enough to want to simply get beyond them. Quality teams, organizations, and leaders don't get distracted by success or failure to the extent that they fail to continue learning.

So a timeout with 22 seconds left and the game well over is time well spent. Where do you need to call a timeout for yourself or for a team, organization, or congregation that you're a part of? What is there waiting for you, and me, to learn?

Evil and non violent resistance

Just finished a book called Baby Jesus Pawn Shop (The Permanent Press, 2008) by Lucia Orth. It's a powerful novel with the backdrop of Marcos-dominated Philippines. There are intersecting story lines of politics, love, class, and decisions that scrape raw the complexities of morality and ethics. Without giving away the plot, the following is a quote from the character named Doming as he comes to grips with his own emotions, desire, calling, and anger:

If I mirror the evil in their hearts with my own inclination to violence and revenge--that worm that gnaws us all--it will eat away at my soul. But if I name it, then I am made whole. So I can not keep silent against the dragon's violence, no matter how bloodied I become. Call it by name in story and song and imagination. And laughter. That, too, is a form of resistance... (p. 360)

What evils do we confront? What inclinations arise in us? How might we use story, song, imagination, laughter, creativity, artistry to confront evil? How bloodied are we willing to become?

I'm impressed with this form of resistance portrayed by the fictional Doming. But it's not just for made-up characters in novels. It's also been the choice of real-life world-changers like Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Nelson Mandela. It was the commitment of Ted Studebaker, one of thousands of little known martyrs choosing nonviolent responses to violent evils. And it is the principle message of God in his son Jesus. Resist the evils of the world, absolutely resist, but do it through uncompromising love and tenacious passion and creative reshaping of the story of human history.

When we sing

Just got back from church choir practice where I'm serving as a "guest" director for February while director Wil is on vacation. It was enjoyable to be back in front of a choir, and especially a good choir, although I'm enjoying the break from doing it every week "full time."

Choirs are amazing organisms. They are living, breathing, moving, creating creatures. And they're inherently about artistic leadership. The choir experience is several things for me.

Spiritual practice: Whether it's rehearsal or the worship service, singing with a church choir is a spiritual practice. The singing is in and of itself a form of worship, of naming the holy, of being consciously in God's presence, of offering prayer, of expressing the range of emotions, and building a spiritual community. Practice is not just practice; it is a way of connecting with God.

Building a community: Choral music is about the space between the notes, the rests. Breath is drawn in during the space between the notes, and in taking a breath together a community is formed that is of one breath. So the community begins with the breath and then is enhanced with the notes and melodies, the combination of sound, dynamic, texture, volume and tempo. These are the creative dimensions of community.

Building body rhythms: Singing is inherently a physical act. I am reminded of this physicality by how out of breath I was at times! But it's not just the breath. Singing recalibrates the pulse. It awakens muscles throughout the body. It requires a focused mind. It taps emotion. When we do it together it gives rhythm not only to a own bodies, but the corporate body.

Musical accomplishment: For me this is secondary to the other things I've named, but it's still important. The notes on the page come to life in a way that makes sense and is pleasing to the ear. The ideas of a composer find expression through the shared creative process with the musicians. There are correct notes to be mastered. That mastery then frees the interpretation and expression.

When we sing . . . what a privilege!

Beach combing

Got back last night from a quick trip to Cocoa Beach, FL for a meeting. Given the deep freeze we're experiencing in the midwest, it was nice to thaw out a little. The best part of the trip for me was the chance to walk on the beach. A few observations from my two hour noontime stroll.

Eternal optimism does exist: These are the guys (they were all men) who walk the tide line with their metal detectors. With their sieve-like scoops, many pounds of gear, sound enhancing earphones, and saucer tipped pole, they tread and retread the retreating shoreline looking for a buried treasure. Not once did I see one of them get a hit. But they keep on. That looks to me a lot like optimism.

Beauty and power are rejuvenating: The power of the surf and the beauty where the ocean meets land refresh my soul. There's something about the rhythm of the tide that is reassuring; like any good rhythm it has both an emotional impact and a physical influence: it changes the way we breathe and the rate the heart beats. But the tide is also so powerful that it restores perspective: nothing in life can be as big as the sea, or as powerful as the God of the seas.

It pays to ask: After arriving at the airport early, really early, I enjoyed a leisurely dinner and headed to my departure gate. There was an earlier flight on the same route that was preparing to depart. I asked, and they put me on the earlier flight, getting me home over two hours earlier. A little luck, a point of grace, either way very nice!

Warm, sunny places in January is a good idea.

Vital church

I had the privilege of attending a building dedication in Milledgeville, IL today for the Dutchtown Church of the Brethren. Brought greetings and enjoyed the potluck! Pastor Rick is a great servant of Christ that I got to know through a continuing ed program in 2007-2008. The congregation is really thriving in a rural setting.

What I observed:

A pastor who intentionally made a decision to have a long-term ministry is having a big impact. I think he's been there 18 years, and won't be going anywhere soon. He commented that there were times he could have left, potential conflicts, things that weren't easy, but he made the choice to stay and now the church (and he) is reaping the rewards.

It is possible to share leadership with younger generations. The building project was coordinated by a young man in his late 20s who is also the chair of the church board. The rest of the board is made up of reps from young adults, middle-agers, and seasoned participants.

Vitatlity is contagious. This church knows what there mission is in their community, serving Jesus. The building is significant, but secondary. They share leadership in all things, including the physical work on the building, worship, disaster relief work, church administration, and more. They respect and honor one another. The building project was paid for in cash, with some reserve left over.

I thank God for congregations like Dutchtown, and pastors like Rick. Well done; keep doing!

Changing lanes

Getting off the tollway this afternoon I had one of those "what are you doing?!" moments as a driver in the adjoining lane of a two lane exit cut me off, without a signal and with one of those casual, unaware floating lane changes. Luckily I had an eye on her and was able to brake and avoid any contact. I did, however, lay on the horn!

I wish I could say it ended there, but less than a mile up the road, she did almost exactly the same thing again, forcing her way into the very small space between my car and the one in front of me. I don't know what she was doing, but she sure wasn't focused on her driving and what was going on around her!!

It's seems to me that one of the requirements of leadership is to stay awake enough that we don't change our lanes like this driver did. Leadership requires a better awareness of what's going on around us, who else and what else is in our sphere of influence, and how we interact within that sphere. Granted, we can't always be aware of everything, but if a horn blows, take notice and do your best not to repeat the same mistake again. Presumptive or distracted actions will frustrate our environment more than help it. And if we do arrive at our destination, we don't want to be surrounded by ticked off drivers!

Leaders need to change lanes; just do it with conscious awareness whenever possible.

Silence

For one hour this afternoon I was able to be in the chapel and remain in uninterrupted prayer. For a father of three, husband, church executive, and participant in a pretty furiously-paced life, the time was a welcome gift. I know that I should be making regular commitments to practicing prayer in this form. When given the opportunity, it restores my soul. But the reality is that I'm not very good at finding the space for solitude.

It's not that I don't pray. In fact I've cultivated breath prayer and prayerful presence as a mechanism for "redeeming" the frenetic pace of life. But it's not the same as periods of silence and solitude.

The 46th Psalm directs: Be still, and know that I am God! The stillness is not just a break from the hectic pace of life, but it is a form of knowing God. A strong case for practicing the art of solitude and silence.

I'm grateful for the gift of today. I will be longing for and creating other spaces in my life for such stillness and knowing.

Less is more

Tonight we had the opening worship service of our annual staff retreat/meeting. The focus was Transformation: The Process of Increasing and Decreasing in Christ. We entered Christ's presence seeking release from our fear and access to our feelings so that we might decrease in ourselves and increase in Christ. A few random thoughts that struck me:

What does leadership look like that is a process of letting go, instead of a process of exercising control?

How do we as a denomination work toward less is more, so that our structures and histories don't weigh us down for the missional work that we are called to support, enhance, and do?

If we let our light shine, we will necessarily be transformed, like a candle that changes as it gives light. So let our light burn brightly that we might be transformed. (Thanks for that image, Jay!)

Historic and Mundane

On such an historic day I find the juxtaposition great with the mundane meetings, correspondence, and routine of my day. It's not that I view the ministry of administration in the church's life as insignificant, but rather that such work placed against the backdrop of the hopefulness of President Obama's inauguration seems pale and somewhat insignificant.

The juxtaposition does make me wonder what President Obama will feel like tomorrow or next week, or next month, or next year, as the weight of the day to day tasks of presiding over this country begin to feel more commonplace and even mundane. At least we hope that there might be a point where the sense of crisis turns more toward the mundane.

The case has been made that our character is shaped and demonstrated not so much in crisis or in the midst of energetic new beginnings or in the face of notably large decisions, but rather our character is defined by our ability to pursue the mundane to the best of our abilities and the fullness of our capabilities.

At least that's how I hope I lived this day, this historic day full of the mundane.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thanks to Bob Hunter, diversity training specialist, leader, and activist for this link to three speech exerts from MLK. From the third speech on Vietnam, King refers to the "deadly arrogance (of the U.S.) that has poisoned the international situation all these years." King speaks on behalf of God when he says: I (God) will rise up and break the backbone of your power and I will place it in the hands of a nation that doesn't even know my name.

It makes me wonder about the situation we find ourselves in now: two over-reaching wars on foreign soil, economic depression, environmental crisis, loss of standing in the international community, fear and intolerance. Perhaps it's these last two, fear and intolerance, that most resonate with the prophetic ministry of King. At the core of the civil rights struggle is the fundamental need and desire to overcome fear and move beyond intolerance. Some days it really doesn't seem like we've come too far. Maybe those prophetic words have become more real than we'd like to admit.

I, like much of the U.S. and the world, am optimistic about our new president, Barack Hussein Obama. He represents the opportunity for a new season of maturation in our nation. He bears a huge responsibility for leadership toward a new period of growth for the U.S. and the world. But he is not THE answer to our crisis. Together we must commit ourselves to new patterns and practices of relating to a diverse world, caring for a threatened creation, building responsible and just economic systems, and nurturing our children toward a sustainable future.

King reminds us that there are two steps toward such a world. The first is "Be still and know that I am God." The world is first and foremost God's. While action is indeed required by each of us, that action begins in listening to the voice and sensing the presence of the Holy One. Then comes the action, following Jesus, taking up the cross daily toward truth and justice and peace.

I long to live in a world of such listening and action.

Museum log

Yesterday I went to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago with my two boys and my friend Ron. It's an awesome museum, and it was packed. In addition to January offering free admission and it being a holiday weekend for school kids, it was also Boy Scout day. A few random thoughts on the exhibits that drew our attention the most.

The farm exhibit boasts an eight row combine with a cutaway to the thresher and engine. Boys will be boys, and they stood in line for a while to be able to climb into the operator's compartment and give the wheel a turn or two. The technology in farming these days is amazing: gps, yield monitors and counters, capacity in general. It was even more interesting because Ron grew up on a farm and is a corn scientist. We got a lot of the back story.

A full scale train layout that included a replica of downtown Chicago was also a hit. The model took us from Chicago out to Seattle and back. One thing we noticed about the layout was the absence of church buildings, especially in the small towns that you know have at least three churches at the town square!! Was not having churches an oversight or intentional?

Another fascinating exhibit is the U-505 German sub exhibit from WWII. I am a pacifist, radically opposed to war and passionate about finding non-violent resolution to conflict. So I look at the exhibit perhaps a little differently than many people. What I see in the exhibit is the brute force of war, the absolutely destructive power of this machine which was built solely for the purpose of destruction. Entering the exhibit area there is a wall which shows all the merchant ships destroyed during a five year period or so. There were hundreds of vessels sunk. I wonder about the people on those vessels, the lives impacted by their loss, the economies affected, the horrors of war. Of course there are people all around the world today that can testify to those WWII horrors and the contemporary horrors of war. One tension for me is that I do find the technology fascinating: how the vessel works, how the crew lived in it, and the process for getting the U-505 into its current museum space is a testimony to will-power, creativity, and technical skill.

My ten year old son Noah showed me how a techno-kid goes through the world. He played his gameboy in the van on the way to the museum. Then he gravitated to every interactive exhibit with a computer screen. One of his favorites was actually the room with race car and skiing simulators. He would have spent hours in there, a place which to me was best described as a game room! Then on the way home he figured out some things on my new phone that I was having trouble with.

Finally, at 4:00 p.m. the museum closed and we headed to the van. We were on the bottom level of the submerged garage. We sat in noxious fumes for almost exactly an hour before exiting. We were an hour late to meet our wives and daughters, and without cell-phone reception they were a little worried when we finally got to open air. But it also made a great case study in human behavior. Most people sat patiently in their vehicles, inching up as the opportunity presented itself and creating space for others to merge. Some people got out of their cars and tried to see what the delay was by walking up the exit ramp - frustration was evident on their faces. At one point a few people started blowing their horns, then a few more added in, then an all-out symphony was created on the spot. The pickup truck in front of us showed its displeasure by burning rubber on the way out the exit gate. Now there really could/should have been a better design for moving that many cars; but come on! How we deal with adversity, and what we understand as real adversity, are questions worth pondering.....

Learning along

I got a new mobile phone today. Our corporate-issue cell phone plan's been discontinued, so we're all on our own. It was an opportunity to upgrade my phone and service. After an hour or so of set-up and play with the new smartphone, I still hadn't found the ringer volume settings, a basic and essential funtion. A quick Goodsearch check pointed out the icon right there on the screen. Question answered, "problem" solved. An old dog can still learn new ways to do basic tricks.

At a more significant level, I'm in the middle of annual reviews for staff. The review process is a great time to reflect on what we're learning, where we need to do additional learning, and how our learning impacts our ability to minister effectively.

I love that I have a staff that wants to learn. But sometimes what we need to know is evasive, like a hard-to-find volume button. Even when it's incredibly simple stuff, if we're not seeing it, it can be terribly frustrating. That's the advantage of working in a team. We can help point out the obvious to one another. We can be one another's Goodsearch. And in so doing we continue to learn along the way.

Rage and God's love

I got one of those calls from home today that I hate to get. Ben was in a rage.

Ben's 13 so you might think it's early teenage angst. I'm sure that's part of it. He's also literally short a few "screws," having been born with Williams Syndrome which means he's missing part of the 7th chromosone. Most of the time he's an absolute delight. But occasionally he can get really angry and lose control.

School was canceled today, so the regular schedule was disrupted, and since it was so cold outside, never reaching zero degrees with a much colder wind chill, Ben was denied one of his favorite activities, spending hours at the curb digging in the snow. Something pushed his trigger and he started breaking things, being aggressive with mom, and terrorizing the house. That's when I get the call.

We can rationalize Ben's behavior and we do work to provide an environment in which it is less likely. We also don't dismiss Ben's behavior without appropriate consequences.

But what gets me the most about Ben's periodic rage is what it does to me. I catch myself also filling with rage. And for me, a fairly self-aware, self-controlled adult, it takes everything I can muster not to act back in rage. I wish I could say that I'm always in perfect control; I'm not. But it strikes me that if I have all the capacities necessary to control myself and find it so difficult, how difficult must it be for Ben.

My own emotional wrestling also gives me a little insight into how people whose lives are out of control, who feel like everything is working against them, who don't know what to do to change their situation, can become so frustrated and desperate. In these challenging economic times, it doesn't surprise me that people take dramatic measures like suicide and faking their death in response to the rage that builds up inside them. It doesn't surprise me, but it pains me.

There's an irony in this afternoon's events. When I got the call I was working on a worship service about moving beyond fear to love. These words adapted from Psalm 33 were resonating in my mind:

If you are looking for God’s love, take heart:
God’s unfailing love is offered to you today.
If you fear the Lord, be assured:
God’s unfailing love watches over you.
If bad times are overwhelming you, have confidence:
God’s unfailing love keeps body and soul together.
If you are lost and alone, have hope:
God’s unfailing love will save you.
If you feel threatened and afraid, be encouraged:
God’s unfailing love protects you.

As I drove across town wondering what I'd find at the house, this promise reassured me and helped me get control of my rage. For folks without this promise ringing in their ears and hearts, I can't imagine how they cope. God's love is stronger than the rage, but what do you do if you don't know that God's unfailing love is for you?

Least common denominator

I was helping Noah with his fractions homework tonight. It won't be long before his math requires me to do some refreshing myself, but for now we spent some time working on fractional equivalents and least common denominators for adding. Needing to multiply by variations of one is understandably a somewhat confusing concept for a fifth grader, but Noah's catching on.

The idea that you can multiply a given by variations of one to make it possible to add fractions got me to thinking about our life of faith, and life in the church. So often we have trouble with the idea that sometimes we need to multiply in order to get things to add up. We always want to reduce things to the common, but neglect to take into account that reductionism doesn't necessarily lead to commonality.

Especially in our diverse world we need to continually be looking for the multiples that will get us on the same page. Jesus did this by finding commonality with a huge range of scoundrels, pharisees, and ordinary folk, and yet so often we in the church have such limited capacity for creatively helping things add up.

I'd like to learn from fractions, increasing our options for finding common ground rather than insisting that our prime denominator dictate the equation.

Slide trombone and artistry

Tonight Noah had his first concert as trombonist in the 5th grade band. A proud moment for this dad as he followed in my footsteps and the footsteps of my dad. And he's playing the same horn that grandpa and I both played. He chose the 'bone all on his own. His teacher says he has natural talent.

Of course the music wasn't great by standards of musical excellence. There was no dynamic variation, mostly right notes, relative tuning, robotic time keeping, and all unison.

But, there were broad smiles all around, major gigabytes of photos taken, enthusiastic waves, and raucous moments of applause. The kids and their director did great! The criteria for appreciating the meeting didn't have much to do with "musical excellence," anyway.

It did get me thinking, though, about artistry and how it is developed. The first building block of artistry is passion. The second building block is competence. These kids have the passion. They don't have the competence yet, though. The challenge will be to keep the passion intact enough so that once they develop more competence they can enjoy becoming artists.

For now, though, the passion of playing the slide trombone in the 5th grade band is more than enough to make this dad smile!

Tastes like ... what??

When our son Ben was a toddler, he was struggling to learn colors, and to develop new food tastes. One day as we pared pieces of a golden delicious apple for him, we asked the obligatory question, "What does that taste like?" Without missing a beat he replied, "It tastes like yellow."

Perhaps Ben is really a synesthete, someone for whom color translates into taste, or maybe he was seeing life in another dimension. Most likely he was just confused, but his words many years ago have served as a metaphor for my understanding of the world we live in. Color can go with taste, and in fact many seemingly disconnected experiences, ideas, and values intersect every day.

Sometimes these intersections are maddening and sometimes enlightening. For those of us who are parents and leaders and pastors and teachers, they are always demanding, requiring the best of our intuition and artistry to tap the richness of the life they embody.

In this blog I hope to explore some of those intersections, to tap the richness of life.