Getting Things Done: Plodding through the Valley of Abstraction

By Derek Penwell

“What’s the one thing you’d like to do before you die?”

That’s what I asked them. Five of us sitting around a table in a bar after a wedding. You know how those conversations usually go. Besides my wife, I hadn’t met any of the other people until the day before. But having learned that one woman was a marathoner who expressed no interest in running another one since she’d already accomplished her goal, it got me to thinking. I wondered if she had other big-ticket items on her life to-do list. So I asked everybody what big thing they’d like to accomplish before shuffling off this mortal coil.

One person said, “Play the piano.”

Another said, “Do a hand stand in yoga.”

Still another said, “Be published.”

All of these seemed like reasonable aspirations—not outrageous, like becoming an astronaut or becoming a pediatric neurosurgeon (which aspirations aren’t outrageous either, unless you happen to be on the downward side of middle age). “Doable,” I thought.

So, we talked in a meta-way about accomplishing goals—about how hard you have to work, and how consistently you have to show up. Generalities. It was a bar conversation, after all.

But if it had been in another setting—one that didn’t include a long day, a night of dancing and drinking—I probably would have said, “Ok. So, how are you going to accomplish your goal?”

Look, I’m nobody’s life coach. But I know how this stuff works. Having a goal and accomplishing a goal are the same distance apart as fireflies and fire.

Usually, when I ask that question, “How are you going to accomplish your goal?” what I get is the econo-size box of hesitation. “Um … well … ”

So, the next step (there almost always has to be) is to ask, “What’s the first thing you’d have to do to achieve your goal?”

More hesitation. People find abstraction much more comfortable to live with, since it doesn’t really cost anything to think big thoughts. “Well, I guess, I’d have to … um … well … “

Simple. Just keep it simple. Practical. What’s the first physical thing you’d have to do to start following through on your goal?1 If you’re going to learn to play the piano, what’s the first thing you’d need to do?

“Find a piano teacher?”

How? You need to be specific. Ask a friend? Call the local music shop?

“Call the local music shop.”

How?

“On the phone.”

You’ve got the number of the local music shop on speed dial?

“Oh, I’d have to look it up.”

How? In the Yellow Pages? Google it?

“Google it.”

There you go. If you’re going to learn to play the piano, the first step is to Google the phone number of the local music shop.

Now, you think I’m a pedantic twit. You’re not alone. Believe me.

But until people get that specific, they’ll never learn to play the piano. Because playing the piano is hard. You learn step-by-step, day after day. Most people know that, which is why they either put it off, or they keep the idea of learning to play the piano conceptual (which might just be the same thing).

Congregations are really good at abstraction. What would your congregation like to accomplish?

“We’d like to grow.”

Without getting too deeply into what you mean by “grow,” how are you going to accomplish that? (What congregations mean by “grow” will generally be evident in their answer about how they intend to grow. Usually, they mean something having to do with bodies and cash.)

“Um … well … we could get some young families.”

How do you propose to “get” these young families?

“We could hire a young minister.”

What do you suppose your “old” minister would say to that?

“Good point. We could have more programs that appeal to young families.”

Ok. What kinds of programs? Vacation Bible School? Upward Bound Soccer League? Day care?

“A family movie night. And we could invite people from the neighborhood.”

Now we’re cooking with gas. What would you have to do first?

“Get permission.”

To show a family movie?

“Fine. We’d need to decide on a movie.”

Who’s “we?”

“The fellowship committee.”

I would think choosing a movie wouldn’t need a motion in a committee meeting, but it’s your church. How are you going to get the committee to decide on the movie?

“I guess I could just email them and ask.”

So, at least in this person’s mind, the first physical act necessary to help your church grow would be writing an email.

I know that sounds overly fussy, but ideas (even good ones) will remain ideas until somebody bothers to pick up the phone, or send out an email, or shop on the Internet. Worthy aspirations are even worthier if you actually pursue them. And to pursue them you need to break down a big idea into manageable actions.

The larger point, though, is that congregations are notorious for keeping things vague. There’s safety in vagueness, in never starting. It’s difficult to fail at something you never actually try.

The secret: If you’re ever going to do anything interesting, personally or corporately, you’re going to have to plod through the valley of abstraction and set up camp in the world of actual work, where practical things like attending to details actually matters.

________________

1. Just so we’re clear, I’m not an organizational genius. I get this “first step” thing from David Allen’s, Getting Things Done. Do yourself a favor, and read it. It’ll change your game.

It's All About Getting There

By Derek Penwell

Shipping

Shipping. In the end it’s all about shipping.

It’s not about starting. Anyone can start.

It’s about producing. It’s about seeing a project through to completion. It’s about shipping.

Used to be, I was a good starter. I liked the process. I’d get excited about something, and I’d go out and buy a notebook to start taking notes, start planning, start getting ready to start.

And pens. I bought a lot of pens.

And calendars. Notebooks, and pens, and calendars.

How could I not be serious with all these office supplies?

Or, after I got into the computer age, it was software. If I only had the right software, I’d already be finished.

The problem was I mistook starting for shipping. I thought that if I could just get started, I would have done the really important work. If I could just line up the perfect office supplies, the right software, I would have solved the hardest part.

I mistook preparing to work for work.

And it’s not that preparing for work is unimportant. You need the right tools to do the job. Unfortunately, I spent so much time getting the right tools, then organizing them, and making sure the desk or the paints or the tool bench was just so, that I could walk away from the work thinking I’d accomplished work without ever actually working.

Perhaps, even more importantly, I usually had tools enough to start anyway. I convinced myself that the work couldn’t get done, however, without “better” tools.

Here’s what it took me so long to figure out—and occasionally still need help figuring out—good work is the application of resources in the service of realizing a goal—that is, good work is about completing a project and shipping it. Good work doesn’t require a perfect beginning. Perfect beginnings are a white whale that lead you to the middle of nowhere.

Good rule of thumb: If the work you’re doing isn’t bringing you closer to achieving your objective, it’s wasting your time. Not only is it not helping you do good work, it’s preventing you from doing good work—since all the fiddling around deceives you into thinking you’re actually doing something, when in fact, you’re actively, not doing the very thing that would help you achieve your goal.

Sometimes you just have to use the notebook you have.

Maybe you have to make peace with the fact that the old Bic you find at the bottom of the drawer will work just fine.

Perhaps what you need isn’t new software, but a bare-bones text editor and the determination to start driving the cursor across the page—before you have all the details worked out.

The Church and Getting Sidetracked

One of the problems with following Jesus is that you never know quite where he’s going to go. According to the Gospels, the disciples regularly found this little idiosyncrasy of Jesus vexing.

First, he’s going here. Then, he’s going there. The disciples found it next to impossible to keep up with him.

Then, after Jesus left, they stood around, waiting for someone to tell them what to do next.

After the ascension, they stood around looking into the heavens, wondering, “Now what?” Suddenly, two men in white robes sidle up and say, “Why are you just standing there? Quit mouth-breathing and get back to work.”

At Pentecost, they were all gathered together in the Azalea Room at the local Holiday Inn Express, wringing their hands, unable to work out just where to go next. The Holy Spirit showed up, kicked them out into the street with no discernible plan, “For crying out loud! Will you just get out there and start working?”

“We don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you don’t. And you’re never going to know sitting here, rearranging office supplies. You’re going to have to get out there and start.”

“We don’t know where to go.”

“If you wait to start walking until it’s all lined up for you, you’ll never find out where you need to go.”

“But what if we go in the wrong direction? What if we do the wrong thing?”

“You will. Inevitably. You’re going to make so many mistakes, even Lindsay Lohan’s going to look thoughtful next to you. But so what? Most likely, you won’t know exactly what to do and where to go until you’re already out there in the middle of it. So, go ahead and make some mistakes; because making mistakes in the service of a goal is preferable to sitting about endlessly rehearsing the reasons to continue sitting about.”

Congregations too often gets sidetracked. Worried about making mistakes, congregations freeze up.

Well, that’s not true entirely. It’s not like congregations that are afraid of making mistakes don’t do anything. They start things; they just don’t ship much that’s interesting. Unfortunately, the things they start are things with which they feel comfortable.

They spend a great deal of time lining up budgets, making flow charts, buying fancy stationary, dreaming up new programs. And these things feel like good work, like ministry.

But so often these scared congregations stop just short of doing good work because they fear making a mistake. Not wanting to do something that might raise the ire of the faithful, they stick to things they know—which would be one thing, if what they know actually took them toward anywhere interesting. As it is, much of the normal flurry of activity fails to help them arrive at a destination, amounting to energy expended in the service of wheel-spinning.

Here’s What I Think

1. Use the tools you’ve got … until you have enough experience to know they’re not sufficient. Then, go get what you need. (Consistently reversing the order here, will almost certainly guarantee you won’t ship.)
2. Start working. Start heading toward a destination.
3. If you don’t have all the details figured out about your goal, start working anyway. You’re more likely to understand exactly what you’re trying to do only after you’ve begun.
4. If you don’t have the exact GPS coordinates in hand, start heading in the general direction. (This isn’t the same as traveling at random. Start heading north, if north is where you think you need to be.)
5. Make some mistakes. Embrace your mistakes. They provide you valuable information.
6. If you’re on a journey to a destination, backtracking is not defeat; it’s re-calibration. (If you have an idea where you’re going, backtracking is almost always better than sidetracking.)
7. If you’re vaguely afraid of going someplace, it might be that you need to pay more attention to that place. It could truly be dangerous. Or it could be that it’s the very place you should be headed, since all truly interesting places involve a certain amount of risk.
8. Start. Produce. Finish. Ship. Repeat.

Creeping around the Edges (Mark 5:21-43)

Rev. Derek Penwell's sermon for 7/1/2012

In the recent debate over healthcare reform one focus of the argument centers on whether the government or the private sector can better provide healthcare service at a manageable cost. Distilled to its essence, the debate seems to me to focus on which bureaucracy is less bureaucratic.

Private insurance providers claim that the free market is more efficient, because competition drives prices down—which, given the metastatic growth in healthcare costs, is a dubious claim at best. Public healthcare advocates say that the profit incentive in private healthcare makes the job of insurance companies center around figuring out how to deny coverage. Whatever your position, though, the main argument revolves around how to get more healthcare for less money.

Our society spends a great deal of time doing cost-benefit analysis. That is to say, we're socialized to ask, “Does the benefit I derive from a thing exceed the cost I lay out?”

I love cherries, for instance. But whereas I will pay $2.99 a pound for them, $4.99 a pound strikes me as unreasonably high.

Advertising is the practice of convincing you that the prices we're charging for toilet brushes are worth the investment. This makes a certain amount of sense in a market based economy. The problem, though, is that we don't just apply cost/benefit analysis to stuff—we also apply it to one another.

John Stuart Mill wrote in the middle of the nineteenth century that ethics is a matter of “maximizing utility.” Maximizing utility means doing that which leads to the greatest happiness.

According to Mill, if I have to make a choice about whether to save one person or to save ten, I make that choice based on the greatest benefit I can achieve by my action. The sacrifice of one person to save ten is good utilitarian math—though it may not necessarily be good Christian math.

But utilitarianism in Western calculations concerns not only thorny ethical dilemmas, but also the investment of energy. Does it make more sense to teach one special needs child to read or ten average kids? We only have so many resources. We need to get the biggest bang for our buck, right? You see the problem.

But it's one thing to have to figure out how to divide up food for six among seven people on a life boat; it's an entirely different thing to apply utilitarian calculations to our everyday social arrangements. Under this kind of cost/benefit analysis, people can be judged to “cost” more than they're “worth.”

How do we deal with the mentally handicapped, with alzheimer's patients, with people in a persistent vegetative state? What do we do with people who've gotten in over their heads with mortgages they can't afford, or who've had to buy groceries with credit cards? What kind of return on our investment can we expect from them? These are tough questions.

We much prefer to deal with the easy ones: should Jr. go to Harvard or Yale? Can we really afford private Zamboni lessons for our sweet little girl? Do we want our child to date the doctor or the lawyer? Does it make more sense to be a Cubs or Yankees fan?

By and large, people want their kids to be voted “most likely to succeed,” not “best body piercing.” That's the way our society operates. The pressure is to move forward and upward—and to associate ourselves with those who do.

If you have any experience on Facebook, you know that one of the moments of pleasure it can bring is when someone you've sent a friend request to responds by accepting you as a Facebook friend. On the other hand, it can be a little unnerving to send out a friend request to somebody, and never have them respond.

You start thinking, “Did he get it? Is he ignoring me? Did I do something to insult him at some point? Does he think his other friends will think less of him if they see I'm also his friend? Am I

goofier than I thought? That can't be right, because I hung out with way cooler people in school than he did?”

It becomes a sort of endless social calculation of worth—who's more important? Who's worth my time? Do other people think I'm not worth their time?

Of course, these endless calculations of worth aren't unique to us. People throughout history have been doing these sorts of things. Even Jesus isn't completely removed from the social pressures of figuring out who's worth his time and energy.

In our Gospel, Jesus has just calmed the storm and exorcised the demons from the Gerasene demoniac. He crosses back over the sea he's just calmed, where he is approached by an important man, a leader of the synagogue named, Jairus. Up to this point in Mark, Jesus is getting a bad reputation for hanging out with the wrong sort of folks. He's paying attention to all the wrong people. Healing lepers and paralytics and the demon possessed.

Back in chapter two he does some leadership recruitment—not at the finest business schools—but at a “tax booth,” where he calls Levi. Then, he adds insult to injury by going to Levi's house to eat with a bunch of “tax collectors and sinners.” People are starting to talk. You have to be a bit more discerning about the company you keep. Jesus is getting a bad reputation.

So, when Jairus prevails upon Jesus to come see about Jairus's sick little girl, everyone’s relieved. Jairus is the kind of ally Jesus is supposed to cultivate. He's head of the Men's Morning Breakfast down at the synagogue, president of the local Lion's club; he's got contacts. He can help Jesus network.

The disciples must have been thinking, “Finally. Now, we're getting somewhere.” Do a favor for this guy, and no telling the kind of political capital Jesus can start building.

On the way to Jairus's house, though, something happens. It shouldn't have been a big thing. Jesus probably should have just kept going. When you've got a big one on the hook like Jairus, you don't

want to lose your concentration, don't want to get distracted. But Jesus stops anyway. Somebody's yanking on his shirttail. “Who touched my clothes?” he wants to know.

The disciples look at each other, their eyebrows knitted. “What do you mean, 'who touched my clothes?' You're in a crowd, for Pete’s sake.”

A woman approaches. She's owns up to grabbing onto his cloak.

If Jesus is going to turn over a new social leaf, quit hanging out with the wrong crowd, this is the perfect time to start. Women weren't supposed to touch men who were not their husbands. Jesus could make a real statement about how he's willing to play ball in the current political environment by giving this woman what-for.

Moreover, not only is she a woman, she's an unclean woman. She has, what the King James called, an issue of blood. She's been bleeding for 12 years, which is a nice way of saying she's had female problems—not just monthly, but daily . . . for 12 years.

A menstruating woman was considered unclean—which is to say, untouchable. She wasn't supposed to touch anyone, let alone a strange man.

Jesus could really signal his willingness to play by the rules by doing the right thing, the thing that would grease the social gears, the thing that would maximize utility, making the largest number of people happy. He could humiliate her, should humiliate her. But he doesn't.

He tells her that her faith has healed her. “So what?” you ask.

The outrage is that he gives tacit approval to the woman's actions. She’s a drain on society. You can’t encourage that kind of behavior. We know how people are, they’ll take advantage of you every time if they think they can get something for free—especially healthcare.

But rather than do the socially and politically expedient thing, Jesus walks the margins again in search of those folks who are creeping around the edges.

Soon, he and Jairus make it to where the sick little girl is. But by the time they get there, she's already died.

Oh well, nice try, Jesus. Thanks for coming. We appreciate you taking the time, but all that's left to us now is to start preparing her body for burial.

Jesus says, “I'd like to see her anyway. She's really only sleeping.”

Mark says that everybody laughed at Jesus for saying this. They've seen dead people before. They know what dead people look like.

Jesus persists, though. As far as Jairus is concerned, Jesus has done all that could be asked of him. Now that she's dead, Jesus will only make himself unclean by going to see her to hold her lifeless hand.

He never learns, this Jesus. What's the public relations upside here? You've got to think about how this stuff is going to play on cable news.

Not Jesus. Ignoring the cost/benefit analysis, Jesus goes to her, takes her hand, and tells her to get up, and together they walked the margins hand in hand.

What I find interesting about these two intertwined stories is the issue of how short-sighted they make Jesus appear on the front end. In both cases, Jesus participates in activity guaranteed to marginalize him in everyone’s eyes. In both cases, he risks the social and political costs of being unclean by touching those who are unclean. A true test of your convictions is what you’re prepared to look like a complete idiot for.

But the great shock of the story, however, is that once Jesus touches them, they are healed, made alive—and not only is Jesus not unclean as a result of the this encounter, neither any longer are they.

In touching these two in an unclean state, Jesus has not only healed them physically, he’s restored them to the social world in which purity is boss. In other words, he’s given them back their lives . . . in more ways than one.

When Jesus walks the margins looking for those who creep around the edges, he redefines the edges, so that the margins are set in the center; and it's the folks who usually occupy the center who risk finding themselves on the margins.

Once again, Jesus turns the world on its head. The last shall be first, and the first shall be last. The one who wants to find life, must first lose it. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. The one who wants to gain the world, must forfeit everything.

But Jesus, that doesn't make sense; it's just not good math. You need to put your money on a winner, get a good return on your investment, ride the middle of the road. And Jesus says, “Life's much more interesting out here with those folks on the edges.”

Ask them. Ask those folks who, because society’s told them repeatedly that they’re not worth the effort, what it means for Jesus to go out of his way to reach out a hand, to risk the bad opinion of those bigwigs who occupy center. Ask them whether somebody finally willing to go looking for them means anything.

Walk the margins with Jesus, go looking for those folks creeping around the edges, and sooner or later your cost/benefit analysis is going to get really goofed up.

I promise you.

-Amen. 

Sermon Podcast: "Pressing On" (Phil. 3:4b–14)

In today's sermon, Rev. Penwell explores the past as it relates to our future and what it means to run in a race that has already been won.

Click the link below for the sermon audio or just subscribe to our podcast in iTunes and you won't miss a single sermon…

"Pressing On" by Rev. Derek Penwell

Sermon Podcast: Wanting What You've Got (Matthew 20:1–6)

This sermon begins with Louis C.K. and ends with the promise that "in the reign of God, we’re valuable not based on our production, not based on how much we’re worth.  We’re valuable because, by the grace of God, God says we’re valuable."

Here's the video Rev. Penwell references of Louis C.K.:



Remember, you can subscribe to our weekly podcast in iTunes and download all of the sermons automatically to your computer, as well as to your iPhone, iPad, or other mobile device.

Click the link below for the sermon audio or just subscribe to our podcast in iTunes and you won't miss a single sermon…

"Wanting What You've Got" by Rev. Derek Penwell

Sermon Podcast: "The Gates of Hell"

Rev. Derek Penwell preaches on Matthew 16 13–21, in which Simon Peter first articulates the disciples' belief that Jesus is "the Messiah, Son of the Living God."

In this passage, it's clear that Jesus sees a church playing offense--marching on the gates of Hell. After establishing that he's uncomfortable with martial metaphors for the reign of God, Rev. Penwell asks what weapons are we to use? The answer is in the passage following today's gospel, Matthew 16:21: "From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised."

Suffering, sacrifice, and death are the weapons of Christians. That is, as Christians we must be prepared to stand beside the oppressed and marginalized and receive the same blows they do.

It's all we've got. It's enough.

Click the link below for the sermon audio or just subscribe to our podcast in iTunes and you won't miss a single sermon…  

"The Gates of Hell" by Rev. Penwell

The Shape of Ministry

(Adapted from The Art of Getting Things Done by David Allen)

1. Defining Purpose and Principles

a. This is the “why” question.

b. Why are we doing this ministry?

c. Why, specifically as Christians, do we care if this ministry gets done?

d. What are the theological consequences of failing to do it? The practical consequences?

Note: The theological/practical questions must always be asked in this order—this differentiates ministry from management. We have a primary stake in the first, and secondary stake in the other.

· This helps us define what success will look like.

· It helps to set the parameters for the resources necessary.

· It clarifies focus.

e. What standards and values do we operate under?

· What behavior or approach might undermine what we are trying to accomplish?

2. Outcome Visioning

a. This is the “what” question that defines success for this ministry.

b. What would success look like?

c. How will we know we’ve done what we set out to do?

d. Envision “WILD SUCCESS.”

3. Brainstorming

a. This is the “how.”

b. Capture as many ideas as possible without editing.

c. Write them down—get them onto something (paper, whiteboard, etc.).

4. Organizing

a. This is where ministry begins to take shape.

b. Begin to notice natural relationships.

c. Now, begin to sort by:

· Sequence, date

· Like directions

d. Begin to narrow down options.

· Set priorities (What’s most important? What can we put on the back burner?)

5. Identifying Next Actions

a. This is where the rubber meets the road.

· Decide on next actions for all moving parts.

· Next actions—literally. What is the next physical activity that needs to be done to move the action forward? Place a call? Write an email? Approach someone to solicit help or resources?

· Decide who is going to be responsible for each next action, and how that person will report on its completion or lack of completion.

· Are there some things on which you must wait? What are they? How long should you wait?

· Is another meeting necessary?

· Set the date and time before leaving.

Some Thoughts:

· If what is needed is greater clarity, then move further up the scale (Purpose and Principles, Outcomes, Brainstorming). The less clarity, the higher up the chain. Revisiting Purpose and Principles regularly is an important practice. If you don’t know why you’re doing anything, then it doesn’t matter what you do.

· If, on the other hand, there’s too much spinning of wheels, move down the scale (Organizing and Next Actions). If you know what needs to be done but are spending too much time talking about it and not doing it, identify next actions. As Will Rogers said, “Plans get you into things but you’ve got to work your way out.”

A Reminder about the New Structure

New Terms:

• Leadership Coordination Ministry—formerly “Leadership Team”
• Ministry—(e.g., Worship Ministry, Nurture Ministry, etc.) formerly “Committees”

Purpose: Renaming organizational bodies ministries reorients the focus from organizational structure to ministry. Seen this way, the organizational structure exists to provide resources for ministry, rather than as an end in itself. Moreover, the Leadership Coordination Ministry exists to coordinate the ministries of the church, rather than to be responsible for initiating them.

Organizational Focus: Under the new by-laws adopted in Spring 2009, DBCC has organized itself with its chief focus on facilitating ministry. To do this the emphasis has shifted from organizational maintenance to ministry. We have put in place an organizational model that is responsive to the vision DBCC has for ministry—a model not concerned with filling spaces on the organizational chart, but with correctly discerning people’s gifts and providing the organizational structure to free them up to do ministry. The primary orientation, then, will be to seek ways to support and encourage ministry, rather than to put up roadblocks to it. Organizational structure seen in this light is to support the body just like a skeletal structure. It is vitally important, but it ought to be as imperceptible and unobtrusive as possible. It simply supports our mission; it is not the mission.

Prophetic Language

"The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious" (Isaiah 11:6-10).

I admit that this passage from Isaiah sounds a bit fanciful given the current state of our world. We're much more apt more apt to take sides as the wolf and the lamb face off. We're more comfortable with policy decisions that help us avoid the terrible truth that the leopard and the kid lie down together only when one feasts on the bones of the other. Our world is situated such that only dewy-eyed romantics and ungrounded idealists ever really believe that a little child will actually lead this unlikely menagerie-especially when we see the cold, hard facts.

And the fact of the matter is, when it comes to the wolf and the lamb actually living together, we main-line Protestants are the least likely to share the same space in peace. Speaking about the relative lack of mixed-race congregations, Nancy T. Ammerman said, "Mainline folks, for all their talk about diversity, lag significantly behind." The charge, of course, is that we who are the putative gatekeepers of the "true faith" are much better at talking the talk, than walking the walk. And no doubt this is true. The numbers apparently don't lie.

Implied in that indictment against main-liners, however, is the notion that somehow talking the talk isn't that important. But I would like to suggest to you that it is impossible finally to walk the walk, if nobody has told us where to go. Somebody has to hold forth a bold vision of what we believe life will look like under the reign of God when it is fully revealed. Somebody has to talk bigger than we are, or we'll have nowhere to reach. Somebody has to talk about wolves and lambs and leopards and kids, or people will begin to think that their animosity toward one another is normal, natural. Somebody has to talk about how God doesn't think that the hostility that exists between the strong and the weak, between the haves and have-nots, between the powerful and powerless is either normal or natural.

But just because we haven't gotten it right yet, doesn't mean that we shouldn't stand up and talk about what right is. Just because it sounds simple or naive to announce a rapprochement between the lion and the ox doesn't mean that we shouldn't hold that in front of us as God's view of reality. Just because bears still kill cows when they inhabit the same space, doesn't mean that we shouldn't press on toward a vision in which they graze the same fields in peace.

We can, of course, never be excused from trying to get it right. Living with a vision requires no less. What we can be excused from is thinking that it's somehow our responsibility to get it right. Because when the reign of God is finally realized, it won't be because we made it happen. It will be because we left ourselves open to the movement of the Holy Spirit and to a vision of what God believes life is really like. Lord knows, somebody better keep talking that talk.

Where Is Our Allegiance Pledged?

“The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever” (Rev. 11:15b).

“I, the undersigned, by my signature do certify, swear, and affirm: That I am a native born, or fully and legally naturalized citizen of the United States of America. That I owe no allegance [sic] to any other country or ruler other than the United States of America. . . . That I will pledge my allegance to the American Knights of the Ku Klux Klan . . .” (Application for membership: American Knights of the Ku Klux Klan).

We’ve just come through the July 4^th weekend, and it got me thinking. The United States is a nice enough place. There are a number of opportunities made available to us due to the simple reason that we happened to have been born on this soil, and for which we ought rightfully to give thanks. We take for granted many things that people in other parts of the world would die to have. But this great experiment in the ordering of public life we call “the United States” is not without its flaws; and these are significant. In fact some of these defects are so perplexing that, regardless of the political party in power, we have been unsuccessful in addressing them. There are some things that, despite our best efforts to date, defy our most capacious political efforts to remedy them. We live in a country, for example, that still commits violence in the name of peace and sees some children go to bed hungry, while others sleep with full bellies. We make our homes in a country in which healthcare is a commodity available not as a right but as a privilege, in which anyone who doesn’t claim to be heterosexual has to take a back seat on the cultural bus. We reside in a culture that accounts worth as principally tied to what one possesses, and love as an emotion of the heart, rather than a commitment of the will. In fact, regardless of the great work that has gone into addressing the problem of racism, there are still benighted individuals who believe that “separate” and “superior” are modifiers that ought rightfully be attached to human beings and their social arrangements.

Christians, on the other hand, are a people who envision another kingdom where our loyalties to another ruler compel us to tear down the walls that divide us from each other. We realize that short of the hand of God, some things are beyond our capacity to heal them on our own. If the church, the followers of the one who finally gave himself over to the hands of hate, cannot stand united against the many masks of hatred, there is no hope. If we cannot offer up to God our brokenness, including those who would seek to undo us, we are doomed already. Because—bad spelling, poor grammar and a complete misreading of what it means to be a child of God notwithstanding—the people who make up hate groups are also people for whom Jesus died; we must be in prayer even—perhaps most especially—for them.

We refuse to submit to the servants of the night. We pledge our allegiance to another ruler. “The kingdom of the world” belongs to him anyway—even though, apparently, some have failed to realize it.