The Greatest Show on Earth

There is a reason I am a children's minister.

It's not just because I love kids or just because I hold such high importance in the faith of children; while those things certainly are true, I like to think God called me into this position because the way I think is not often very far off from that of a child. I am excited and enthralled by small pleasures in life. I enjoy simplicity. I enjoy fun. Color. Sparkles. Disney World. Cupcakes. Swing sets. If it's made for children, I probably love it.

Knowing that, you can imagine my excitement as several friends and I ventured to the Ringling Bros. Circus last Friday! We were in the cheapest seats possible. Our shoes stuck to the floor as we climbed stairs covered in soda and who knows what else. From every angle we were offered the opportunity to buy glowing necklaces, rubber noses, clown hats and, of course, outrageously priced cotton candy and popcorn. I was in sensory overload as I took my seat, jittery with excitement, and prepared to watch "The Greatest Show on Earth!"

As the show began, I oohed and aahed at the tight rope walkers, lion tamers, trapeze artists and dancing elephants. Especially the elephants. I marveled at the glittery costumes, the amazing contortionists, and the comical clowns. I couldnt help giggling at the way the Ring Master announced everything, as if he only knew how to speak in elongated syllables. "Annnnnnnnnd nooooooooooooow, weeeeeeee wiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllll alllllllllllll taaaaaaalllllllllllllllllk liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike crraaaaaaaaaazzy peeeeeeeeeeeopllllllleeee."

However, about 3/4ths of the way through the show, I began to wonder... is this REALLY the greatest show on Earth? After all, several people fell during their stunts. The show was silly in parts. If you were close enough, the people probably seemed more cheesy than impressive. If you were over the age of 10, you probably thought (at least once): "That's not real." There was a lot of glitz and glam, but not as much substance.

Of course, I began to consider the circus in relation to the church and to my faith (big shock there!). I occasionally catch a certain preacher on TV who reminds me a lot of the circus. Tons of people, tons of things there for you to spend money on, tons of glitz and glam... but no substance. I am often shocked if this particular preacher even quotes the Bible. It's all a big show, and just like at the circus, we get sucked in to it.

On a smaller, more personal scale, we have a circus mentality in many of our local churches as well. Forget the mega church and the televangelist. Many, many folks attend church each week, dressed a particular way and expecting a particular "show." We want to hear a certain type of sermon, a certain type of music, a certain type of glitz and glamor. We want to eat yummy treats (or drink yummy coffee), and we want to sit and watch something we are paying to see (tithing does not equal entitlement, though sometimes we forget that too). We forget about what it means to be a part of a church-- worship, serving, giving, mission, outreach-- which are all, by the way, about focusing on God and others rather than ourselves.

It makes me wonder, am I... are we... looking for The Greatest Show on Earth each Sunday morning or are we searching for something with a little more substance? What is the difference between sitting in a church or sitting at a circus? Do we know? Do we care?

More Jesus, less religion?

They Like Jesus but Not the Church

I was in my local bookstore when that title screamed at me. I couldnt resist the urge. Out of sheer curiosity, I bought the book and it has been sitting on my desk ever since. Until yesterday...

Yesterday, I began to read this socio-religious critique/ commentary on the emerging generations and their role in the current American church. I am withholding my thoughts and insights until I complete the text, but I did find the following quote interesting:

The next generation is definitely looking for a less programmatic, more relational, and more missional kind of church... they want more Jesus and less religion.

I have been rolling this concept around in my mind. As a member of said generation... and one who works in the church... DO I want less religion and more Jesus? DO I want less programming and more relationality?

Yes, yes I do.

Across the nation, across every denomination, church leaders are asking, "Where are the young people? How do we get them into our church? How do we effectively minister to those 18-35 year olds?" Very few people are doing it well. Very few churches are doing it well. Why?

I am not sure where Dan Kimball is going to go with this text, but Amanda Stallard has a few thoughts. I cherish and honor my faith traditions. I am a theologian. I love the church.

That being said, my Jesus met in small, intimate groups for study and conversation. My Jesus ate EVERY day with the poor, the hurting, the "unclean." My Jesus cared less about politics and more about people. My Jesus lived social justice. My Jesus lived hospitality. My Jesus was relational. My Jesus was dirty and ridiculed and passionate and... radical!

Can we say those same things about our churches?

From what I have seen, my parents' generation was one who sought anonymity. They slipped into the backs of churches and wanted to be unnoticed, unrecognized, unbothered. Folks, my generation is exactly the opposite! In a culture and era of instant social networking, where cell phones and iPods and laptops replace actual human interaction, my generation is crying out to be known. To be recognized. To be relational!

Until the American church finds a way to bring us more Jesus and less religion, I think we will continue to scratch our heads and ask, "Where are the young people?"

Where my peeps at?

For the last week or so, I have been following Peep stories. Yes, Peeps. I have taken great joy in hearing about the "peeping"... and couldn't resist the opportunity to share with each of you!

For those of you who don't know, there is more to these sugary marshmallow holiday treats than the joy of finding them in Easter baskets or competing to see which one will expand fastest in the microwave. Peeps are changing lives... at least in the town of Hickory, NC.

A church that I had the pleasure of attending and interning at (Christ Church, Hickory) is revolutionizing the concept of hospitality in their community with Peeps! The attendees of Christ Church have been commissioned to practice random acts of kindness in the name of Peeps (and Jesus!). Church members are reaching out to people in grocery stores, nail salons, buying the meal of the person behind them in drive-thrus, and canvassing their neighborhoods with Peep boxes in hand. At last count, 8,500 boxes of Peeps had been dispersed into the community. 8,500 acts of kindness. 8,500 physical representations of God's love.

Each box of Peeps was attached with an invitation to attend Easter services at one of Christ Church's campuses. I imagine the invitations consisted of witty words like "Our peeps invite your peeps to Easter service," "Bring your peeps to Christ Church," or "Tell your peeps it's happenin' at Christ Church." While I applaud the marketing technique, I am much more impressed with the motivation behind peeping.

Christ Church is not simply trying to get folks in their doors. Rather, they genuinely care about the "peeps" in their community, and seek to be a beacon for those around them. This is not a ploy for membership, money, or attention. This is a sincere effort by the church to say, "We care about you. We do more than just spit out religious epithets... we practice hospitality. Radical, Christ-centered hospitality."

Over the last week, my facebook feed has been full of powerful stories of how peeps are changing the lives of church members and strangers alike. I have been moved by the power of kindness and hospitality and I have been reminded that this is what the very nature of my faith is about.

I imagine that if Jesus were here today, he'd hand me a box of sugar-coated marshmallows and ask, "Do you love me?
Then feed my peeps.
Clothe my peeps.
Visit my peeps.
LOVE my peeps."

I can almost hear Jesus saying to us, the Church.... "Where my peeps at?" How will we respond?

Hee Haw

For my very first blog post, I find myself at a loss for anything to say that is creative or witty or interesting. So, instead, I think I may simply share my Holy Week insights.

Each year, I read the story of Christ from the Triumphal Entry through the Resurrection and, each year, I find myself in different places in the story. Some years, I am in the crowd waving palms. Some years, I am at the Last Supper. Some years, I am Peter-- denying Jesus. Some years, Joanna-- amazed at the Resurrection of Christ. Most years... I am in the crowd shouting "Crucify!"

This year, I think I am the donkey.

Yes, you heard me right. Many of you know my call story and how, until the very day that I accepted my current job as a Christian Educator, I fought tooth and nail with God. I was NOT going to work full-time in the church. I had spent years refusing to accept the call, even though I was working in churches and attending seminary... I had literally stomped my foot, crossed my arms, and said "NOPE!" And this Holy Week... here I am. In the church. Ministering. Full-time.

In the story of the Triumphal Entry (my favorite version is in Luke 19), Jesus tells the disciples to go find a donkey that has never been ridden. It is tied up and when the disciples untie it, it's owners ask, "Why are you untying our donkey?" The disciples respond, "The Lord needs it." Then, the disciples throw their cloaks over the young, untrained animal and Jesus sits on top of it. Many would anticipate Jesus (the King of Kings!) to ride in on a glamorous horse, beautiful and well-trained and reflecting the perfect majesty of it's rider. Instead, Jesus calls the most unlikely colt to carry the burden of his weight.

Most days I consider myself ill-equipped, inexperienced, unable, and unwilling to carry the burden of Christ into the world of believers and non-believers alike. There are hundreds of others who would be better, stronger, and more fit to take my place. Until 6 months ago, sitting in a church office was the last place I wanted to be. And yet, sometimes "The Lord needs [us]." Sometimes, we are called (or led... or even dragged) into a place where we have the honor of carrying Christ to the people. Jesus sees in us, the lowly donkeys, a potential and a calling... even when we don't see it ourselves. There is nothing majestic or beautiful or holy about any of us when we stand alone... but as we carry Christ with us, we are transformed.

What a blessing to find myself as a donkey.