EL’s Dribble

From my friend David – it’s so short, I’ll just repost the whole thing… his quote and commentary. It’s very true. David’s last statement reminds me of the response the Pharisees had when this heretical Jesus guy started threatening the “institution”; they were very aware of what was at stake – per John 11:48.

Originally taken from here. An excerpt from Seth Godin’s book Tribes.

Leadership is scarce because few people are willing to go through the discomfort required to lead. The scarcity makes leadership valuable. If everyone tries to lead all the time, not much happens. It’s discomfort that creates the leverage that makes leadership worthwhile. In other words, if everyone could do it, they would, and it wouldn’t be worth much.

It’s uncomfortable to stand up in front of strangers.
It’s uncomfortable to propose an idea that might fail.
It’s uncomfortable to challenge the status quo.
It’s uncomfortable to resist the urge to settle.

When you identify the discomfort, you’ve found the place where a leader is needed. If you’re not uncomfortable in your work as a leader, it’s almost certain you’re not reaching your potential as a leader.

>> changed the title from “where does the bible talk about senior pastors?”

I remember being in seminary and a friend of mine came to me with a “huge” discovery. He said – I don’t see any where in the Bible that talks about churches needing a senior pastor. He pointed out that the early church communities functioned from a plurality of non-educated, regular Christian leaders and that we need to rethink how the church does leadership.

When he said that, I was flabbergasted. How dare he challenge the church. I couldn’t believe it – some young punk coming in and speaking against what generations of Christians have accepted. I remember a friend and I started throwing back rebuttals to his argument; of which none were biblical. We just couldn’t imagine a church without a singular pastoral head. In the end, I thought he was a loony. He can take his “infantile” ideas of church and start his own little commune.

Little did I know, I’d be taking my own advice. I’d even run with his premise and take it way further. Why was I so resistant? Here are a few reasons why:

• Threat – It threatened what I had believed in for so long and had never challenged. Because if he’s right, then I may be wrong [at least partially].
• Pride – I didn’t want to admit that he was on to something. If I gave credence to his question, I’d need to travel down the same road of questioning. And you never know where that’s going to lead.
• Fear – What’s going to happen to my master plan? My plan of getting lots of degrees and being a big shot? What if all I was trying to achieve is a waste of time? What do I tell the people who were paying my way?

I had to fight back. I had to… or else, I’d lose it all.

And in fact I did lose it all. God found a way to drive that nail of skepticism into my brain. I had to ask the questions I didn’t want to ask. I had to confront why I didn’t like asking them. I had to defend why I came to certain conclusions. And I realize that it was God’s way of helping me lose. Helping me lose it all… so that in turn I can gain something better. That seems to be a theme somewhere.

And now when I ask the hard questions to others and feel the push-back, I know the feeling. And when it’s coming from leaders who are supposedly more experienced and more knowledgeable than me… I don’t quite know how to respond. I can empathize… because they have way more to “lose” than I ever did. I’m 35… I don’t have 30 years of ministry life to reckon with.

But at the same time – I find myself assuming the elder brother role in the prodigal son narrative – and I judge. I judge the heck out of people. I wonder why they can’t see things the way the Bible so plainly states. I wonder why they are so defensive and inadvertently say things to put me down. I wonder why they are so obtuse – resistant to just asking the simple, unavoidable questions… just questions!

And then I remember myself… and how I shot down my friend and judged him for being so bold as to challenge the “church.” I want to judge some more and be angry… but I have not far to look but within myself to find the same crap that I’m so outraged by.

Lord, help me to forge ahead and yet have mercy on my friends/father-figures who may not quite see it yet.

From the Urban Dictionary:

Not to be (stereotypically) confused with Jesus freaks or aimless gang members. A Soulja, is anyone who has gone through hard times and fought against adversity. A Soulja’s strength comes from within, strength of mind, body, soul, and character. A true Soulja would have learned from his/her mistakes, taken responsibility for his/her actions and gained strength to never back down. Someone who knows no limits to his/her own power and God given abilities. A person who serves their people, lives by a strict code, and is never afraid to stand up for what they believe in. Someone who is willing to fight for their home, family, property, etc, but is not necessarily part of a conventional service (Army, Marines, Navy, Air Force, etc). A Soulja cannot be defined by race, age, background, location, or economic status.

I had my Tuesday day off today – it has not been an easy discipline honestly. I’ve been challenged by Pete Scazerro’s [and others] rebuke for people to take proper sabbaths – especially pastors. So I’ve been trying to really learn to relax, take my time, keep the rest of the world away and live in an unhurried mindfulness of God.

So I watched a movie… at home. It was raining all day and taking very “spiritual” walks in the woods don’t happen in the rain. I watched this documentary called Man on Wire. It was really interesting and the temptation is to wonder what kind of personality would do something so foolish as to string up a tightrope between the World Trade Center and walk across. Insane.

But it was really intriguing to hear Philippe Petit share about how his dream was spawned and the passion he had for something so crazy, so out of the ordinary, something that could demand his life in the pursuit. During all the meticulous planning and the numerous setbacks, he said that he needed to remind himself of the sheer exhilaration he’d feel once he’s on the rope.

The logical question would be to ask why we don’t live with the same kind of reckless passion. But I think we all know why. I sense that most of us live life placidly and occasionally embark on some death-defying challenge that reminds us that we can live, really live. It’s as if we strive to live ordinary existences needing occasional moments of the extraordinary [just to keep us sane]. What if we tried living extraordinary existences needing occasional moments of the ordinary [just to keep us sane]. Maybe life would be different… incomplete thoughts… but a few reflections after a pretty engaging documentary.

Some quotes:

“If I die, what a beautiful death. To die in the exercise of passion.”

“To me, it’s really so simple, that life should be lived on the edge. You have to exercise rebellion. To refuse to tape yourself to the rules, to refuse your own success, to refuse to repeat yourself, to see every day, every year, every idea as a true challenge. Then you will live your life on the tightrope.”

I love this movie. This might be to offset Henri Nouwen, but I think it analogizes how many of us buy into a lie about ourselves and never really live to our full potential. We need to stop believing in the lie and boldly live out who we are… without sticking knives in our legs.

Photo courtesy of Z is for Zoe

So I spoke at a retreat a few months ago and shared on simple ways to love the people around us. I had shared how I brought a pie over to a neighbor and endured a long 4 seconds of silence. The kind where you look at each other and wonder whether someone had pressed pause so as to enjoy the awkward moment just a little bit longer. The awkwardness stemming maybe from the fact that rarely do people really do anything for anybody with no strings attached. But we ended up developing a friendship and it’s good to connect with more of my neighbors.

Well this one guy came up to me during the retreat and shared that he felt like God was telling him to buy a pizza for his neighbor. He said he never talks to his neighbors and they were the kind of people his momma wouldn’t even want him to be around – chain smoking, fully tattoo’d up, the look of trouble.

I saw him tonite at Warren’s show [Phonofield] and he told me that he followed through on what God was telling him to do. But instead of the pizza, he brought over a box of Marlboro’s. Unopened, still shrink wrapped. He wanted it to be as “natural” as possible. So he bought himself some smokes, mosied on over… started talking, pushed his tongue a little harder… and said something like, “I had an extra box of cigarettes… thought I’d give ‘em to ya.”

The neighbor looked at him a little funny but took them and said, “I normally smoke Marlboro lights.” My friend felt a little bad that he got the wrong ones, but nevertheless was glad that he followed through. A few days later he came out of his house ready to get into his car and he noticed that his car was wet. He looked around, saw his neighbor across the street. They came up to him and said, “We had extra soap and water from washing our cars so we washed your car too.” And now each morning his neighbor gives him a little peace sign as he drives off.

Before this whole thing he had no excuse, no natural connection… and every reason to stay across the street, mind his own business, hold on to the bit of fear that keeps 97% of us from crossing the street, taking risks, building bridges. I’ve been reminded often that we don’t always need to get it right… we need to get over ourselves and have a willingness to step out, and just follow Jesus simply.