Return of the Brick House

Books to Start a Theological Library

A friend recently asked me for a short list of books to get his theological library started. I’ve given a lot of book recommendations and acted on quite a few; give me a personalized tip and I’ll probably read the book, unless it’s straight off Oprah. But those are usually in specific genres or for specific purposes. (“I’ve read everything by C.S. Lewis, now what?”)

So, putting together a short list of can’t miss books spanning several sub-genres, representing essential reading in Christianity, was a new challenge. Here’s what I came up with and my rationale for doing so. There is always more to reflect on and act on, but I would be pretty happy to see friends get started with these titles.

Authors Are More Important Than Titles

There is a short stack of books that have been game-changers for me. But it would be more accurate to say that a handful of authors, with their perspectives and voices, have had major impact. Rather than list all of the books by all of the authors that have influenced me, I prefer to ensure that those high-impact writers show up on this list, and hope that after the intro has been made, readers will deepen the friendship themselves. That said, the books I list are heavy hitters.

Both Nonnegotiable and Situational

Some of the books I list are the type I’d consider essential reading for theology and Christian living. Others are more directly tied to the situation that I’m in with some good friends here in Kansas City, Missouri, getting a new church established in the city center. If you’re part of this risky endeavor, there are some books that are especially relevant. Those strategic/situational reads are marked with asterisks.

Desiring God by John Piper

Is following Jesus a religious vocation, driven by moral obligations? Or is it the single greatest pursuit you’ll find in this world and the next? Duty or pleasure? The scriptural answer Piper argues for had a dramatic effect on me in college and I’ve never let go of “Christian hedonism.” Seeing & Savoring Jesus is a slimmer volume with similar content, but if you don’t have ADD, get the original.

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

The dry title is dramatic, ironic understatement, and I imagine Chesterton grinning wolfishly as he chose it. Of course, it’s technically correct. Chesterton sketches the contours of historical Christian belief. But this is one of the most joyful, rambunctious and imaginative theology books you’ll ever meet. G.K. is thrilled by the epic adventure of God entering his own story, and he implies rightfully that if you grasp this, you will be too.

The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis

C.S. Lewis. Enough said. Problem is a pithy apologetic book, combining Lewis’ superbly clear thought with imagery that acts like mental tacks for important ideas. As good a place to start as any.

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis

Read this like a short story. The allegory will sink in as you go. How do people end up in Heaven or Hell, worshiping God or worshiping themselves? Lewis tells truth with twisted and charismatic characters. The pictures are unforgettable.

A Praying Life by Paul Miller

The single best book I’ve read on prayer deals not just with how you might talk with God, the Creator and King of the universe, but why so many people give up on prayer and why you will never want to. This book was like reconstructive surgery for me.

Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright

What do Christians believe about life after death? More importantly, what does the Bible actually teach? Wright, a mind you should get familiar with, builds the startling case for resurrection as Jesus described it, a restoration not merely of individual souls in a distant “heaven,” but the top-to-bottom healing and renovation of God’s people on the reborn earth.

The Challenge of Jesus by N.T. Wright

You probably don’t see Jesus as you should, which is to say, how he really was–unconventional, scandalous, and full of grace in unforeseen ways. With his exceptional knowledge of first century backgrounds, Wright can help open your eyes.

Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson

Wilson is relatively new to the job, but this book is filled with Lewisian turns of phrase, Chestertonian exuberance and Wilsonian humor. Wilson takes a sustained look at the world and what he sees is God’s work–fierce, beautiful and happy.

Humility by C.J. Mahaney

If you want to be effective and live like Jesus, you need some. If you’re a man, doubly so. Young man? Triply so. Think you don’t? I dare you to read this book, which will take less than an hour.

Total Church by Tim Chester & Steve Timmis

This clear-sighted, non-trendy book has influenced our work at Crossroads Church more than any other. I would give it the situational asterisk, but I think everyone would benefit from reading it and I can hardly recommend it highly enough.

The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer

Tozer’s writing is like kindling to spark affection for God. When it’s genuine, Christianity awakes worship and devotion. This was a formative book for me in my early years of following Jesus. Another is Tozer’s Knowledge of the Holy. (We actually named our first son, Aidan, after him.)

Doctrine by Mark Driscoll & Gerry Breshears

What should Christians believe (and why does it matter)? This very readable volume explains core theology of historical Christianity, fields questions, and hashes out implications. I’ve used it some in leadership development settings at Crossroads and I’ll continue to, so the situational asterisk would be appropriate, but this book is solid anywhere.

The Prodigal God by Tim Keller

A brilliant introduction to Keller, one of the great voices of our time. This one exposes the deep generosity at the heart of God’s nature that provokes his people to love and worship.

The Reason for God by Tim Keller

Keller’s bestselling apologetic work places Christianity in dialog with other “faiths” including atheism, addresses skepticism and doubts and cogently outlines the intellectual rationale for belief in Jesus.

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction by Eugene Peterson

One of the great threats to spiritual maturity is the idea that Christianity is a quick fix. Peterson argues that sanctification will, indeed, leave us healed and whole, but that this is a slow, refining process. Growth is God’s work, but he wants our involvement. Therefore, the biblical disciplines Peterson describes are vital like arms and legs.

Can Man Live Without God? by Ravi Zacharias

Zacharias brings an incisive, well-traveled mind to bear on the existential and intellectual implications of Christianity and practical atheism. He’s a dangerous debater and compassionate teacher in the same body.

* Church Planter by Darrin Patrick

This book could be more accurately titled, How to Be a Leader and a Man. Patrick, who started and currently leads a growing church in urban St Louis, critiques the current mode of men-as-adolescent-consumers and makes the case for biblical masculinity. He explains what it takes to exercise tough, loving authority in families and church communities. The angle Patrick takes makes this book ideal for my crowd at Crossroads.

* The Forgotten Ways by Alan Hirsch

Hirsch details the challenges facing Christianity in post-Christian cities and builds a case for church planting that relies on Jesus-shaped ministry and the full spectrum of spiritual gifts. Remember “emergent church?” If not, good for you. This is the best work to emerge from that cluttered milieu. Although I think Ways is quite readable, a simpler adaptation of this book is Right Here, Right Now co-authored by Lance Ford (who speaks at Crossroads Church on occasion).

* What is the Gospel? by Greg Gilbert

Gilbert briefly and effectively answers the all-important question biblically. Christianity is historical good news, not one more source of good advice. This lucid book nails down essentials which are non-negotiable and need to be emphasized in a new church like Crossroads. Gilbert represents a groundswell of younger authors including Kevin DeYoung, Ted Kluck, and others, who do a good job articulating historical Christianity for our generation.

Obviously, a list like this is substantially shaped by the books I’ve read and which of those found a level, well-situated lot in my heart (updating that “good soil” metaphor). Which books or authors would be on your list?

Best Music of 2011

Since I don’t have the cash to buy mountains or historic buildings, indie music is my aesthetic investment plan, a portfolio stuffed with penny stocks.

When I discover an album that could possibly warrant lots of play, my pulse gets fast and thready. I waffle for about 30 seconds, then put my money down. Since I buy music in MP3 formats, it’s usually about the price of a good cappuccino.

Over the course of a year, some of those small investments turn out to be money well spent, albums that help define a season or a party. Some of them them turn out to have the durability of plastic toys, an instant bust. A few yield an incredible ROI, capturing my imagination and earning extended play for months and even years.

Here’s a brief history of my music adventures in 2011. I’d love to hear about yours in the comments.

Albums that I wanted to get into but couldn’t: Codes and Keys (Death Cab for Cutie), WhoKill (Tune-Yards), Take Care, Take Care, Take Care (Explosions in the Sky).

Honorable mention: I Am Very Far (Okkervil River), Dye it Blonde (Smith Westerns), Kapputt (Destroyer), Tamer Animals (Other Lives), No Color (The Dodos), The Rip Tide (Beirut), Fomo (Liam Finn).

20. All Eternals Deck by The Mountain Goats. Thoughtful, hyper-literate storytelling framed with lots of guitar.

19. Death of a Decade by Ha Ha Tonka. Passionate Ozark roots music rips through muscular foot-stompers and gets wistful by turns. A well-kept secret, for now.

18. Build a Rocket, Boys by Elbow. In a year when Radiohead released a record, this subtle, gorgeous album was the best Brit-pop of the year.

17. Middle Brother by Middle Brother. This folk rock project may not be greater than the sum of its parts (front men from Deer Tick, Dawes and Delta Spirit), but it’s the best collaboration album in recent memory.

16. C’mon by Low. Impressive sense of drama, timing, and lots of swagger make this indie “slowcore” record memorable despite minimalist lyrics.

15. The Head and the Heart by The Head and the Heart. Glowing intensity, earnest lyrics, wide emotional range and all the Appalachia acoustics you could wish for. Pitchfork raked this album over the coals. Pitchfork was wrong. This band has “it” and you’ll be hearing from them again.

14. The Long Surrender by Over the Rhine. The wisest, most poignant band making folk rock today, carried by Karen Bergquist’s incredibly expressive voice. “You’re not the first one to start again/Come on now friends/There is something to be said for tenacity/I’ll hold on to you/If you hold on to me.”

13. Father, Son, Holy Ghost by Girls. Jangly, rambunctious indie rock that fades to ghostly ballads. The juxtaposition of the band’s name and album title are apropos, but not superficially so. Get abandoned enough times and you find yourself pleading for mercy. This is a talented band.

12. Burst Apart by The Antlers. After the spectral, despondent and brilliant debut, Hospice, the only way they could go was up. This is a rich, textured, gut-wrenchingly emotional record with some added optimism from a prodigiously talented band.

11. Helplessness Blues by Fleet Foxes. For some reason, this album didn’t have the clout for me that their debut did. Still plenty of baroque beauty, dramatic lyrics and contemplation to go around.

10. We Are the Tide by Blind Pilot. This is as pure an indie-folk-pop album as you’ll find this year and it never stopped growing on me. Not flashy, but deeply satisfying melodies and impeccable musicianship.

9. Circuital by My Morning Jacket. Anthemic and rousing, contemplative and dreamy. Whimsical, heartfelt Southern-rock-tinged greatness. “Took a long time to get here/if it would have been easy/I would not have cared” (Wonderful).

8. Love & War & the Sea In Between by Josh Garrels. Moody, prophetic, soaring, brave, with beats that match your pulse and chill-inducing lyrics. Not content to soak in melancholy, Garrels has hope to offer. BEST VALUE OF THE YEAR (FREE).

7. Bon Iver by Bon Iver. Yeah, we all know about the cabin and the break-up. The mythology is played out, but this album keeps on giving. Moving away from Emma‘s sparseness, this one is carefully layered and rewards lots of listening. Justin Vernon can handle the big stage.

6. Undun by The Roots. I wasn’t expecting to stumble onto something this brilliant this late in the year. Rap? Hip hop? Soul? Pop? Rock? It’s The Roots. A chilling story of death and struggle, made icy and bright like distant stars. This is a top-shelf concept album.

5. Civilian by Wye Oak. Deceptively measured music that bursts into exaltation or sorrow, usually without warning. Tender, beautiful, deadly, dangerous. Sailing on a sea where the map reads Here Be Dragons.

4. The Whole Love by Wilco. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, you can’t sleep on Wilco. Since I love them, this was easily one of the year’s best albums, their first record to rise to the level of 2002′s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Raspy, gritty confidence, restless creativity, clearly enunciated swag emerging from noisy folk rock.

3. El Camino by the Black Keys. Tough and brooding, rough and confessional, bristling with confidence and riffs, this is the best rock ‘n roll album of 2011, created by the best blues rock outfit alive.

2. The King is Dead by the Decemberists. Rollicking, twangy, endearing, lyrical genius. No weak tracks. Overcoming my innate distaste for anything that sounds slightly country. If you had to point to a prototypical “indie rock” album in 2011 or any year, this would be a winner.

1. Let England Shake by PJ Harvey. I called this months ago and didn’t hear anything that changed my mind. An eerie, haunting, peculiar album about a nation’s rise and fall. If you can get past Harvey’s unconventional voice, this one will sink hooks in you.

All right, what did I miss?

Church Planting is Ridiculous

Taking a tour of ArtsTech in downtown KC.

Crossroads Church Kansas City just passed the two-year milestone. Last Sunday we celebrated with stories about God’s work in our lives. As I reflected on the past two years, I thought about the unexpected turns our story has taken and the way God has guided us through each new development. We’ve got a short history but a good one.

I was moved to tears at how the gospel has been worked more deeply into our lives, as we have experienced God’s grace and forgiveness, been moved to deep gratitude, and seen lives change.

Related to this, I also thought about some of the more ludicrous situations in the Crossroads anthology.

You can listen to some of our folks’ gospel stories on our site. I’m recording some of the ridiculous stories here. They are ridiculous both in the sense of difficult and trying and also in the sense of unexpected and wonderful. Ridiculous in the sense of people being people and ridiculous in the sense of God being God. I’m sure that a growing church with Jesus at the center should expect both.

While we were meeting in the Arts Incubator…oh wait, I’m moving too fast.

We ended up meeting in the Arts Incubator because our small team of 15 people (counting kids) was looking for ways to invest in Kansas City’s arts community. The AI was a nonprofit that helped young artists launch their careers by providing low-cost studio spaces and professional development classes. It was also a landmark art location. We connected with Jeff, the AI director, and volunteered at several work days and fundraisers. Then, one day Jeff and I stepped into a Mexican deli to catch up.

While he suspiciously eyed his coffee that had been served with floating cinnamon sticks, I briefed him on my hopes for the church’s future. “I think you should just start an informal service,” he told me. “Use the Arts Incubator. You can start small, small is cool around here. This community loves start-ups. Keep it simple. I’d come.”

Long story short, our team prayed about it, then knowingly ignored every piece of church planting literature every written and took Jeff’s advice. While he never did come, Crossroads was on the map thanks to a counter-intuitive piece of advice over very festive coffee. I don’t know that it would have worked anywhere else, but I increasingly think Jeff nailed it. Despite truly microscopic origins, Crossroads has grown slowly and steadily. This is ridiculous.

So, while we were using space at the Arts Incubator (since deceased), we got to meet a number of local artists and shop owners. One of them walked inside to meet us one Sunday morning. I introduced myself, and listened as she explained why she had come. She had come to complain. The problem was, she told me, she had a small art gallery around the corner from the Incubator. On Sunday morning, our folks would park nearby, using a chunk of the street parking she felt should be kept free for her customers. “I’m sure that must bother you,” I told her. (Oh yes, it did.) “I’ll talk to our crowd about it.”

This was ridiculous because the only people moving in the Crossroads Arts District on a Sunday morning were our folks and a handful of sleepy walk-ins to YJ’s Snack Bar across the street. The Arts district, let alone a specific art gallery, doesn’t get traffic on Sunday mornings. This woman’s gallery was around the corner on another block, with additional parking. I suspected that she was complaining, not because we were a legit threat to her customer base, but because she wished we weren’t there.

I asked our folks to park further away anyway. We wanted guests at Crossroads to have open spots, and, in the one-in-a-million chance that gallery visitors showed up, wanted them to have open spots too. It wasn’t a big deal. Part of the bargain, being a church in a post-church city. Just a little ridiculous.

A little down the road, a childcare volunteer decided not to intervene when a couple kids were fighting and let them settle their differences like it was a midget UFC bout. Luckily the fighting kids were mine, so I didn’t have to explain our unusual kids’ ministry model to guests. Nevertheless, when he explained that he wasn’t cut out for childcare, I didn’t argue. Unexpected. And ridiculous.

One time, a leader at another church suggested that we scrap our emphasis on the Bible and Jesus, clearly explained by preaching, and have music-only services. I told him that would be great except that while God loves authentic worship, he says that nice emotions without clear theology are like a steady diet of placebos. If upbeat songs are all the church has to offer, let’s just all go home. No kidding. Ridiculous.

Another pastor told me that he had a great strategy for us to make friends and influence people downtown: hire a caricature artist to do sketches and then strike up God conversations with folks while they were getting their portraits done. Since his church was funding us at the time, I nodded and said, “Wow, interesting idea.” When said funding was later pulled, in part because we did not share the same “outreach strategy” (reach out and caricature somebody), I could only conclude, Hey, fair’s fair. But at least now I’m free to blog about this. Ridiculous.

In the early, early days of Crossroads, when there were just five of us, including my wife Lindsay and me, meeting in our loft apartment to pray and brainstorm, I sat down with a locally-famous church leader who I hoped would help fund our risky scheme. He told me that if I’d hoped to start a church, I should have started fundraising three years ago.

Continuing, as I silently and angrily ate barbecue, he told me that my plans were doomed and concluded by saying that he “wanted to scare me.” I thanked him for the lunch, which he had fortunately paid for, and said goodbye because I had a lot of fundraising to do. It was 2009, and the recession had already hit, but about six months after that convo, through an unlikely collection of churches and donors, God patched together enough funding for us to get Crossroads started. Ironically, the leader who wanted to scare me was laid off a year later. Poetic justice? I don’t know. Ridiculous? Definitely.

Late in 2010, we stumbled across a lesser-known non-profit on the rougher east edge of the Crossroads District, and decided we wanted to help out. ArtsTech takes high school kids, often referred by the court system, and mentors them with job skills and art disciplines. Many of these kids have very few options left, and many of them see their lives change, some earning arts scholarships to colleges. A handful of our folks jumped on an opportunity to volunteer at a “Breakfast with Santa” for students and their families late in December.

We stayed in touch with Dave, ArtsTech director, over the next months, but didn’t have an opportunity to give much more hands-on help. Then, in the late summer of 2011, the Arts Incubator abruptly closed, and the Crossroads community found ourselves homeless, at least in a corporate sense. However, if I thought this might faze our crowd (kinda did), I was wrong. There were no real signs of dismay. We were homeless for all of three days and then, like clockwork, the thing that everyone apparently expected to happen, happened.

I shot Dave at ArtsTech an email and asked, casually, if the space got much use on Sundays. We met for coffee. Then, no exaggeration, about half an hour later, Dave was saying, Why don’t you come back to the building with me, Reverend, and I’ll give you a set of keys. I was so happy that I was totally ok with being called “Reverend.”

Dave later told us that when we talked, he was so jaded by the cut-throat politics of keeping a nonprofit afloat that he saw my proposition (Hey, how about we share your space?) as a chance to operate in a different economy, a grace economy. I really have nothing to say to that, except, praise be to God in Jesus Christ. You show up for a few hours, flip some pancakes, watch kids take pictures with a man in a very average Santa suit, and get offered a place to meet.

Grace: receiving lavish and unexpected gifts that you didn’t and couldn’t earn. None of this makes any sense apart from grace. In the sense of startling and unexpected blessings, nothing and no one has anything on the heart-stopping ridiculousness of grace. That’s really what I’m saying.

Documenting the bumps and hiccups in Crossroads’ history is a lot of fun, but only because of grace. Grace makes this thing a comedy, no matter what happens, instead of an accident waiting to happen. Anyone setting out to do anything good and worthwhile in Jesus’ name should expect a great deal that is ridiculous and unfair. At the top of the list, thank God, is grace.

Vision Should Dictate Structure (And Then Some)

Before we started Crossroads Church Kansas City, my friend Scott and I brainstormed about how to keep First Things first. How to make sure that our vision dictated our plans, and we didn’t pull a Google and start stockpiling interesting projects simply because they were cool and we could do them.

Scott gets way too much joy out of being a geek, and under his influence (notice what I did there), I suggested that we create a very simple organizational system that would look like a 3-entry mind map or word cloud…

We wanted vision to dictate action.

…and furthermore, that EVERYTHING we did would fit logically within this picture. The nerdy tech side of it was that Scott would write the javascript to feature this sucker on the front page of our web site, and hovering over these DNA pieces would cause the appropriate structure or project (i.e., “talk about Jesus ALL the time,” “create subversively beautiful murals under bridges,” “volunteer at downtown nonprofits,” etc.) to pop into view like a flowering tree of words…

A few minutes later I realized this project was one of those Google side projects, so we sidelined it. Maybe next year.

Our concern was legit, though. Proving this was the fact that when people heard we were starting a church downtown, they suddenly knew exactly what kind of church we should be and the things we should do that would result in us being KC’s BEST CHURCH EVER. How they got this knowledge, I don’t know, but hindsight has revealed that many of them were their own brand of crazy, so I’m happy we didn’t listen.

Vision was the colander, structure was the pasta. But there was a problem with this approach. It was too abstract.

Digression. If we had listened, today we would be doing one or more of the following: Holding worship services with really great music but no preaching because theology is not a big deal. Providing our city with the little-known secret to surviving Armageddon–bleach! Hiring a caricature artist to paint random strangers, giving us an opportunity to strike up totally natural convos about Jesus. (“That picture makes you look like a moron. Do you know what you are without Jesus?”) And I could continue.

We knew that vision should dictate action. So early on, we thought of vision as a strainer that we poured our ideas through to see if they made sense. Vision/mission was the colander, action/structure was the pasta. But we decided there was a problem with this approach. It was too abstract.

We concluded something like this. Structure, like architecture, is never neutral. You never “just” live in an organization. Structure can be schizophrenic when its organizing principles contradict and even defeat its stated purpose.

Church is too often this way.

Therefore, we tried to simplify the questions we were asking. Rather than vision being a litmus test or strainer for what we did, how could our vision BE what we did? Goal: If you enter our community, you’ll live the vision (unless you’re a poser). To live the vision, you’ll have to enter the community.

Briefly, here’s how that has worked itself out. We only do three things at Crossroads. Gathered church. City groups. Core groups.

A cheat sheet for Crossroads.

Church is not showing up at weekly service. Church is living on mission with Jesus leading the way, loved by the Father, the Holy Spirit your trail guide. When folks show up at ArtsTech, a local nonprofit, for gathered church, we sing, pray, preach the gospel, and tell ‘em, “That’s it…but that’s not it. Because WE’RE the church.” Then we send them out to do life on mission together in City groups, planted around downtown. We encourage them to join a Core group and work the gospel into their lives.

When our folks join City groups and Core groups, they’re living their way into our mission. When they don’t, the vision hasn’t shot home. We try to make this obvious. To date, about 80% of our crowd is leaning into our community structure.

We’re still a young, small church, but working to fuse vision into structure is exciting. It ensures that some of the church’s best moments will happen out in the city, in homes and venues, and that (this is humbling) no matter how good my sermons and our services get, they will not be the apex of our community’s life.

Here are a few key points where we see structure embodying vision.

• We’re driving service and volunteer opps through our City groups so people will take ownership. (Mandated church-wide projects are becoming rare.)
• We’re working to foster discipleship relationships in Core groups so not just a handful of people are discipling/being discipled. These groups are low maintenance and wired to multiply.
• We’re giving City groups freedom to initiate their own projects because we want bottom-up creativity, not top-down programming.
• We’re building City groups to grow on mission with IN and OUT weeks. Growth in the gospel requires life on mission. Life on mission causes increasing maturity.
• We champion preaching and corporate worship, but we treat our gathered services as a funnel for the life-on-life dynamics of City groups and Core groups.

So far, one strength of our approach is that it creates a great atmosphere for leaders. And one weakness of our approach is that it creates a great atmosphere for leaders. We’re asking folks to embody the church in ways they’re not used to, and this is demanding. We think and hope we’re on the right track. We believe that the result–deepening, gospel-centered community–is worth it.

Death of the Pink Room

Slightly too much girl power.

If you’ve heard me talk about our remodeling work in downtown Kansas City, this topic has probably come up. “The Pink Room,” also known as “Molly’s Room,” has been hurting our brick house’s self esteem for a long time.

This room had so much girl power that our boys would temporarily believe they had a sister (with really bad taste) when they walked inside. This is the room you only show to people you trust. This is the room you chain and padlock when you have the guys over for UFC.

For two years, the pink room lived on borrowed time while we dealt with the kitchen, the bathroom, plumbing, etc. But at last the day arrived when this monument to awkward self assertion met its demise.

I’m posting some before and after shots because it makes me happy.

In case there was any doubt whom this room belonged to.

Prerequisite action shot.

We painted the walls "Russian Blue," pulled a bought-on-clearance table out of the basement, and refinished the floor after pulling up the shag carpet. You'll never guess what color the carpet was.

The natives are excited to occupy the reclaimed territory, even if it means learning phonics.

Shrine to Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs, can you hear me? I need the iPhone 5.

I’ll miss Steve Jobs’ paradigm-smashing vision and entrepreneurial genius as much as anyone, but I thought this shrine on Kansas City’s West Side during Diadelos Muertos (Days of the Dead) was a pretty good metaphor for America’s (over)reaction to his death.

Not to put too fine a point on it, as an Apple fan, but apparently we call it the Cult of Mac for a reason…

And now this blog officially exists

Baker Books has acknowledged this blog's place in the space-time continuum, albeit at my mother-in-law's address.

…because an outside source has given a God-like head nod to its existence. Three cheers for legit ontology! (wink)

Related: look for book reviews coming up.

New Books, Piper, DeYoung & Gilbert

Aidan knows that new books are a big deal around here.

The Problem with Blowing Things Up

While Lindsay and I were at Grace Agenda, I met a young couple from western Colorado who are part of an aging, denominational Reformed church. When the dude learned that we are working to plant a church in downtown Kansas City, he had questions.

As it turned out, he and his wife represent a small youth movement at a church that is aging, unfriendly to outsiders, and resistant to change. He explained how a handful of other younger couples look to him and his wife for leadership; meanwhile, when he interacts with the established leadership of the church, changes are discussed but never implemented.

He and his wife feel like this church could be in its death throes if nothing changes. Simultaneously, they feel somewhat uneasy and even guilty with the leadership role they’ve been unofficially assigned by the rest of the younger crowd in the church.

He asked me what I thought about the situation.

So, rubbing my chin thoughtfully and drawing on my vast and sage-like wisdom, I said, Well, you may have to do something dramatic. You may have to blow everything up if you really want to see change happen.

About five minutes later, I felt sad that I’d missed the chance to say something that was not a cliche and really helpful.

I should have said something like this.

Pray and talk until you have a picture of the transformation you would like to see happen. What would it look like for the gospel to be the center of your church? What would it look like for the gospel to have a presence in your city, through initiative and service to friends and neighbors? What would it look like to be on this gospel adventure with a few other people?

Then make the changes in your life that this vision would require. Maybe open your home to friends and neighbors. Hang out with some new people. Perhaps spend your money differently. Maybe serve in new places. Begin to lead by example, and then invite some others along with you. Start changing the culture of your church that way, as a servant leader, and see what God does.

The problem with blowing things up is that it’s not necessarily an act of leadership. Blowing up a corpse as rigor mortis sets might be an act of mercy…or it might result in a gruesome zombie fight scene instead of a quiet funeral.

There’s a time and place for throwing grenades, but more often than not, real cultural change happens at the slow, steady pace of the servant leader.

Doug Wilson Interviews Mark Driscoll (Grace Agenda)

Here’s a video clip from the conference Lindsay and I recently attended in Idaho. Driscoll talks about leading men, among other things. Notice his concession to the more traditional setting: suit coat offsetting the jeans and boots. Nicely done.

Doug Wilson Interviews Mark Driscoll (Part 1) | Men & Masculinity from Canon Wired on Vimeo.