Advertising Ashes

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Man on fire

You never have to advertise a fire. —Leonard Ravenhill

Are you growing increasingly distressed by the worldly attempts by many churches today to market their church? Does the latest church fad sweeping the nation leave you cold? Are you growing nostalgic for "the olden days" when a preacher would walk into the pulpit and by the unction of God set the place ablaze?

Now that everyone in the United States has a blog—it seems like it, doesn't it?—I read an increasing number of sites that are advertising that they have the solution to whatever the Church's problem is. We all know what the problems are. Just a glance at the Top 25 bestselling Christian books in your local Christian bookstore will tell you:

  • Your church needs better marketing.
  • Your church needs to understand community demographics better.
  • Your church needs to have purpose/mission.
  • Your church needs to be relevant.
  • Your church needs to be authentic.
  • Your church needs to reach out to whatever group of people it's failed to reach in the past.
  • Your church needs to be concerned with end-times prophecy.
  • Your church needs to have a better men's/women's/youth/children's ministry.
  • Your church needs __________.

In a charismatic age, when even the crustiest Presbyterians are raising their hands in worship, how is it that we have forgotten the only thing the Church needs? Why have we forgotten the Holy Spirit?

You never have to advertise a fire. That's the answer to all these books clamoring for attention, trying to get you to buy to find out the "Super Secret Christian Formula" that will suddenly take you, your family, and your church to the absolute pinnacle of Christian experience.

Yet nothing draws people like a fire. You see a fire, you immediately start wanting to linger, to see what is burning, to watch what happens next. Fire evoke memories of stories told while camping, the community around bathed in the amber glow of timelessness and wonder. Fire heals, cleanses, and illumines. It spreads and envelops.

If there is any one characteristic of the Church in America in 2005 it is that for all our bluster, our bestselling fixes, and our introspection over the failure of believers to rise above the secular mire, no other answer can come but that we need the fire of God poured out on us.

John Eldredge, bestselling author of Wild at Heart, claims that men find church boring. David Morrow recently wrote Why Men Hate Going to Church. I have the simple answer for that: they are not encountering the Holy Spirit in the churches they attend. Someone who regularly attends a church that is filled with people overflowing with the Holy Spirit and who experiences the Holy Spirit in power in those meetings will NEVER be bored and will NEVER hate gathering.

But this is not most churches.

Ever heard of the aviator cults? These were primitive people who lived in remote areas untouched by modernity. As aviation grew, these tribal people started seeing huge, unusual birds in the sky. They were a sign. And some of those tribesmen were startled when a metal bird descended from the clouds and tall, white people emerged from their bellies. These people were like the gods themselves. So when the gods got back into their metal birds and flew away, the tribesmen were compelled to erect effigies of them and the odd bird they came in. Totemic planes built of reeds were set up in hopes that the gods would some day return and bless the people. This persisted for generations.

Today, our churches resemble aviator cults. We have a vague memory of generations ago when God showed up in our churches in power. But as time goes on, the story breaks down, the reason for it becomes muddied, and we start dancing around trying to make the aviator gods return. Churches do this in a variety of ways. Most churches entertain, rely on clever marketing campaigns to put posteriors in the pews, or scour the demographic data to tailor their message to what the neighborhood wants to hear. They advertise the ashes of the fire that might have once burned brightly, but is no more. They'll sculpt the ashes into amusing shapes and toy around with the properties of the ashes until they've mined all the ashes are worth—but on reflection, the ashes remain ashes and the fire is eventually forgotten.

You never have to advertise a fire. The Holy Spirit's fire in a church will obliterate whatever feeble gains a marketing campaign can create. The Holy Spirit's fire in a church catches in the community and changes lives profoundly. The Holy Spirit's fire cleanses, renews, and empowers.

For all too many churches today, there is no fire, only ashes. This is the dirty little secret that no one can utter. And when the Sunday service is over, it's the nagging doubt in every person's mind as they walk out wondering why they feel so empty even though they just spent all that time in church.

Everything besides the Spirit will fail to change this condition. The Christian pundits out there are misdirecting people into thinking there are other ways to get there, but there aren't. Only the Spirit of God satisfies. And once you have the Spirit, all that other dross is burned away.

It's time to stop pretending. For too many the Holy Spirit has become a dim memory in a dim church filled with dim people. God, send us your Fire!

Creation in the Heart of the Christian

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View from Mt. Lassen, Callifornia

When I was a child, my favorite hymn was, by far, “This Is My Father’s World.” There was something inherently organic, yet otherworldly, in the simple words that begin this hymn:

This is my Father’s world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world,
the birds their carols raise,
the morning light, the lily white,
declare their maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
in the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.

The planets (the “spheres” as so elegantly put in the hymn) sing the praises of God. Contrary to the small-minded who believe God stopped speaking the second the canon of Scripture was closed, God continues to speak to us through His creation. The beauty of an unfolding lily attests to the artistry of God and His profound love for us that we may delight in what He delights in.

I know that God takes pleasure in what His words have wrought. I also know that I take pleasure in those things. So far this April it has averaged about 70 degrees and sunny here in SW Ohio. I cannot remember an April so auspicious in its loveliness. This kind of weather lifts everyone’s spirit.

Yesterday was the first cutting of the grass. Our property is a bit over thirteen acres, with much of it grass at this point. But as I sit up on my tractor and mow, I cannot help but feel something warm within me. The senses God gave me collect a host of data that all point to one thing: God can speak to us through the land.

I’ve blogged on this before, but I want to reiterate the thought. I believe that one of the reasons that many Christians feel impoverished in their souls is because they lack any connection to the land. Too many of us get all our food from the grocery store and never eat what we could grow ourselves if we had a tie to the land. This divorces us from God’s creation, a state I believe He never intended us to dwell in. Being able to till the soil and grow our own food puts more of our reliance back on the Creator and less on nameless and faceless multinational food production companies.

I believe God is calling Christians to get back to the land, to be better stewards of God’s world than we have been, and to outdo the pantheistic leftists (who seem to inhabit all the environmental groups out there) in our ability to care for Creation. We need to be less reliant on food distribution systems and more reliant on the Lord. I believe that Christians who are considering purchasing a new home buy one with a smaller house, but more property on which to grow food.

This year we are putting in a permaculture fruit orchard with apples, cherries, and Asian pears, plus all the supporting flora (to cut down on our use of harsh chemicals.) We want to be as organic as possible. Since my wife and I both enjoy a nice glass of wine with meals from time to time, we plan on putting in a vineyard after that—we have great soil for it. We live in the viticultural area that in the 1800s was the equivalent to what Napa is today, so we know it can be done.

And there is a blessing that comes from this that I think too many of us are missing. When we become detached from the land, we lose our ability to appreciate the bounty of God’s provision, taking for granted everything we consume. And while the Fall made growing our own food more difficult, the original call of God to be fruitful and to subdue the land has not been rescinded.

Every time I stroll through this property, I thank the Lord. I watched red-bellied woodpeckers cavort on a dying tree yesterday. The meadowlarks stroll in packs through the grass, disturbing the bugs they eat. Bats tear through the sky in random patterns, flying over the blooming pear trees, and the roses with their fresh green leaves. Warblers begin their re-acclimation to southern Ohio, their babbling songs ringing through the budding walnut, sycamore, and locust. Tadpoles swim the creek, while adult frogs croak their mating calls from the pond.

It all speaks to the majesty of God and too many people are missing it, casually ignoring Creation as they fly from one activity to another, dead to the voice of God speaking in the mulberry trees, the bluebirds, or the cirrus clouds wafting by overhead.

This year, rediscover the voice of God in Creation. Find a way to grow your food. Seek out the quiet places in the woods where God can charm you with His verdant lullabies.

In the words of another hymn:

For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies;
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

Razing Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood

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This is a very long post, but the Lord has impressed on me that it is vitally important. My prayer and hope is that you will read all of it and consider what your next step will be to make it a reality within your local community of believers.

***

When I tell people I used to live in Mister Rogers’ neighborhood, I am sometimes met with a pinched brow and a quick look for the exits. But, truthfully, Fred Rogers was a neighbor of mine when I attended Carnegie Mellon University in the early 1980s. We attended the same church and my dorm was right next to WQED, where Rogers taped his children’s show. I routinely ran into him as he walked to work and sometimes even encountered him playing tennis on the college courts. (He was no pushover, either, as many an unsuspecting challenger found out.)

I was very sad a couple years ago when he passed away at what seemed like the young age of 74. To me, Rogers modeled the perfect way with children. He engaged their curiosity, imagination, and innocence all while operating at a speed that the supposedly more enlightened saw as a throwback. Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood is to Sesame Street as a gentle afternoon spent swaying in a hammock is to a crystal meth high.

Oddly, I got an additional PBS station when I recently downsized my satellite TV to just the local stations. This new station carries Rogers’ show and for the first time I was able to watch it with my son. What a breath of fresh air! Your sense of safety and peace is reinforced in only a half hour. Childhood in Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood is still filled with wonder, respect, joy, hope, love, sharing, patience, and most of all, innocence.

Looking around, it is hard not to see the assault on Mister Rogers’ ideals. Everything in our culture is now geared to razing his neighborhood.

Childhood innocence, the very backbone of the neighborhood, is sustaining the worst of the demolition. Children know far too much of the adult world at far too early an age. Once exclusive to “adults,” porn use is rampant among young boys—and now even pre-teen girls. Jollyblogger recently posted on the extreme casualness with which most kids treat sex today. Startlingly, sexual activity among children still in elementary school is on the rise. “Hooking-up,” wherein teens engage in casual sex with no sense of relational connection, is proliferating outside of the college campuses where it started, rendering dating archaic even among junior high school students. Abstinence programs do not seem to be working, either, as the rates of STDs among children who took abstinence pledges are no better than their non-pledging counterparts. Part of this is that children are compartmentalizing sexual activity, too, substituting every known form of sexual behavior possible while avoiding strict vaginal sex in an attempt to stay a “virgin”—a misguided technicality that is useless to preserving innocence.

Governmental controls have failed as well. The Lawrence vs. Texas decision opened the floodgates of deviancy, with many organized groups seeking a lowering of consent laws across the country, hoping to have them branded unconstitutional. And while we Christians understand that governmental mandates cannot substitute for the guidance of the Holy Spirit illuminating our understanding of right and wrong, Christian young people are only a couple percentage points lower than their unbelieving counterparts in having sex outside of marriage.

Beyond sexual mores, we know that drug use is once again picking up, and that our public schools are unable to teach because they are spending most of their time either combating delinquency or contributing to it by succumbing to pressure groups seeking to introduce all manner of deviancy into the lives of unwitting children. It is hard to fault Christians who are abandoning public education.

The assault is coming on multiple fronts. The neighborhood is slowly being razed.

As I look at this, I have come to learn that the mantra that parents are responsible for their own children is too simplistic. We are ignorant if we hold this as our sole line of defense. The problem extends beyond the individual family home.

We Christians must come to understand that we have bought the lie of the safety of the family home. Too many Christian sources are holding the home as the vanguard, but Fred Rogers’ show was NOT called Mister Rogers’ Home for a reason. It is the neighborhood that matters, the community that surrounds the individual home that makes of the intricate web of support and protection we need.

This is not a call to enact Hillary Clinton’s secular village, but it is a wake-up call for us to see that even good parents who do everything right are watching their kids and household taken down because they have become to isolated from a truly caring community that can undergird them. We need to revise the saying “No man is an island,” to be “No family is an island.” The Enemy will take down one island at a time—and is very successfully doing so—because we are forgetting the strength of the neighborhood.

We Christians are a neighborhood, the Community of Faith. Within any church we have a responsibility to look out not only for our own family, but the rest of the families around us.

Christian men, do you understand that it is your responsibility to see that no young woman in your church goes astray? What are you doing to place a hedge of protection around not only your daughter, but the daughters of other people in your church? There are few things more precious than a young woman coming into her womanhood. What are you doing to ensure she makes it to her marriage bed undefiled? When young men in the church see how zealously the older men in the church guard the innocence of the young women in the church, will that not inform their ideas of what it means to be a man, and how they should treat all women? What young man would dare try anything with a young woman so protected?

One father cannot stand against the tide of wickedness, but a whole host of fathers can. Likewise, the women in the church should stand together to ensure that no young man lacks the tender love a mother can provide. Older women fail to understand what they can teach young men about themselves and about women as a whole. Their responsibility to young women is like that of the men, too. No woman should let any young woman fall into sexual sin, not only by training up their sons to respect the purity of their sisters in Christ, but by keeping watch over all the young women in the church, just as the men should.

This extends far beyond sexual purity, too. We as a community of believers need to do a better job of instructing our young people in the ways of the Lord AS A COMMUNITY. Foisting them off on Sunday School teachers and youth pastors is wrong. We need to be teaching our children within our own homes, but also teaching them as a unified community. The men must consider standing united to reach the young men in the church and the women must do the same with the young women. I strongly advocate sex-specific rites of passage within every church tied in with youth assuming adult responsibilities within the church. In my day, this was called catechism. We need to go even further than catechism, though, by addressing not simply the spiritual needs of the young men as a community of men (and young women as a community of women), but ALL aspects of life, working with young people to have a coherent Christian worldview that bridges the supernatural and natural worlds.

Failure is not an option. If we Christians persist in our island thinking, the Enemy will continue to plunder us one household at a time. It is not enough to ensure the success of our own household; we must break out of that selfish thinking to incorporate ensuring the success of every household within our immediate church. Community still means something, and we MUST come to grips with our fractured view of community (and our responsibilities within that community) if we are to surmount these vitally significant issues and raise the neighborhood instead of watching it razed.

Our children—and their innocence—are depending on us.