Creating space for good ideas

Posted on February 27th, 2012

In the March issue of Wired, Jonah Lehrer recounts that statistician David Banks once wrote a paper on what he called the “problem of excess genius.”

Banks noted that the people who generate new ideas that radically change the world are not scattered evenly across time and space, but are clumped together in roughly the same times and places. Between 440 and 380 BCE, Athens produced Plato, Socrates, Herodotus, Euripides, Aeschylus, and Aristophanes. In Florance, between 1440 and 1490 CE, we were treated to Michelangelo, da Vinci, Botticelli, and Donatello.

Lehrer contends that, while this clumping of genius is a mystery, it’s not a total mystery. He says that the result of a flourishing in creative ideas is actually the result of the presence of “meta-ideas”: ideas that make is possible for other ideas to be born and spread.

As I travel around the country speaking to various groups, one thing I like to say is that there are a lot of people out there with good ideas about where the church can go. The problem is that there aren’t enough. Having recently transitioned from “front line” ministry in a congregation to a level of my denomination that seeks to support these front line folks, this notion of meta-ideas is very important to me.

First, Lehrer raises the importance of “human mixing.” As he writes

Research indicates that in the overall population, a 1 percent increase in the number of immigrants with college degrees leads to a 9 to 18 percent rise in patent production. Open immigration policies are a feature, not a bug.

That is a serious stat, and it makes me thing about my Presbyterian Church where we are around 95% white. If only a 1% increase in input changes the output by 9-18% we are stupid for not finding ways to encourage/invited/bribe persons who are not-Anglo to join our ranks.

As I wrote in Open Source Church, “diversity” is the number one criteria we should seek to fulfill if we are to become a wise crowd. Our denominations must develop and implement a comprehensive strategy for increasing the number of non-white persons in our ranks and particularly in our leadership.

The second meta-idea Lehrer notes is that each of the periods where geniuses were clumped were cultures pioneered new forms of teaching and learning. Florence developed the master-apprentice model. Elizabethan England concentrated on educating its middle class, which resulted in a glover’s son being able to write Romeo and Juliet.

If we are going to produce a culture where genius can thrive we have to take seriously that our forms of theological education must be revolutionized. We have to take seriously the “witness” of the Khan Academy and other models of online education.

I know, I know: you don’t think that community and pastoral identity can be formed online. I challenge you to say that to all of us on Twitter who were devastated when Gideon committed suicide, or who have walked with each other through death of loved ones, death of marriages, and death of dreams.

Lastly, genius arises in cultures where there are institutions that encourage risk taking. Historically this meta-idea has taken the form of a protected patronage: Shakespeare got it; the Medicis gave it. Who will be the patrons of today? How will we create this culture of risk taking?

I would like to be a part of a church that has an excess of genius, wouldn’t you? That would be the classic “good problem to have.” So, I ask, what are the steps we take to get there?

Categories: Church

What I don’t want the future of Christianity to look like

Posted on February 23rd, 2012

Sometimes we first need to identify what we do not want in order to articulate what we do.

-Christopher Butler, “Future Daydream”, Print, February 2012, 66.1

When you think about the future of the church, what is it that you think of? I know it’s a difficult image to conjure, given that we’re in a time of so much upheaval in the life of faith, but surely you’ve thought about it.

Perhaps you can just glimpse some nascent truths you hope flower into something larger. Perhaps you’ve been able to articulate something quite robust in a particular area. However, my guess is that you are like the rest of us and you fall back on a very tried and true notion of many an amateur futurist: You imagine the future to simply be a “better” now.

Periodically, a company will release a video of a design concept they’ve been working on as a way to show what kinds of experiences we might be able to look forward to down the road. Recently, Microsoft released one they’ve called “Productivity Future Vision” and design critics and technologists alike have widely panned the vision presented. This led Christopher Butler to write in the current issue of Print that the hump we need to get over is one of simply assuming that the future will be a pristine version of all the things we like to do now. As he put it, “It would be a shame to be remembered as the generation that tweeted while the world crumbled around us.”

To open up new vistas, Butler suggests that we might want to spend some time talking about what we don’t want to see the future become before we further attempt a positive vision. I think that’s wise advice. The truth is that tomorrow’s problems are going to be caused by today’s solutions.

I don’t want a better tomorrow. I want a different one.

Here are bits and pieces of a Christianity I don’t want to wake up to in 30-50 years years:

Leadership

When I try to glimpse the future of the Christian faith, I don’t want to see old white men in a suit. Don’t get me wrong: I’m gonna be that guy some day and I’d like to be valued for my gifts. However, we’ve traveled this road for long enough. The truth of the matter is that white guys represent the very top percentage of privilege and power in the world. Given that the faith is increasingly moving to southern, not-white regions, I’m not convinced that having me and my pale brothers “in charge” is a very good idea any more. The fact is, we do not understand the world most Christians are or will live in. It’s time to step aside, boys.

Theology

As I have recently written, I want to challenge our understanding of theology as law or science. In an increasingly diverse world, where faithful disciples live in countless different contexts, it is ridiculous to me that if we just try a little bit harder we’ll find that one magic word that brings us all together. Our faith in a unifying theological expression is more of a hurt than a help. We have beat each other up over our doctrines for years and, at the current course and speed, I see no reason why we would stop.

If I wake up in 30 years and all theology has amounted to is a continued argument about whether [insert favorite theologian] was right and whether or not you’re living up to the legacy of [insert favorite theologian], I’m giving up my ordination.

Membership

Modern church membership, as a category, was conceived of by Mainline denominations. By and large, the reason congregations began to keep membership rolls was so that a per captia (“by the head”) apportionment could be assessed in order to pay for the workings of the levels of the denomination beyond the congregation. At the congregational level, there are always concerns over how many members are on the rolls so that the Board can ascertain what the yearly budget might look like based on the number of current “giving units.”

Although we have developed very sophisticated theologies of membership, and although it cannot be denied that church boards genuinely care for the people they serve, on thing is clear: church leaders are concerned about “membership” because they are concerned about cash. I am all for good stewardship, but I do not want to see the Church of the future judging its ministry by asking “How much? How often? How many?”

Mission

“Missional” is still a buzz word for Christians. We try to encourage one another that “missions” is not something we do as the people of God, it is a way of approaching our work as the people of God. It seems as if every variety of the Church wants to conceive of itself as a “Missional Church,” but as I look to the future I hear many predicting I’m afraid that we are still conceiving of missional activity in terms of an institution directing large scale activity. We are still conceiving of the Church largely as a social service agency. I’m no longer convinced that judging the viability of our congregations rests in their ability to design, implement, and sustain large scale social service programming.

So… what would I like to see?

Regarding leadership, I want to see a lot more women, particularly young women of color. As one example, I believe that my friend and colleague Theresa Cho is one of the most gifted and visionary leaders I’ve met in the last ten years. She represents everything I want my own denomination to be, and I bet she’s close to what you want as well.

When I think of the future of theology, I want to see an understanding that allows and accounts for multiple visions of God work in creation. I don’t want us to continue arguing for an understanding of God that seeks to lock down and limit, but one that suggests, sets free, and expands our understanding of God. In my opinion, the only thing that can do that is see theology as an art form.

Frankly, I’d like to do away with the cheap version of membership that we currently have. Rather than hunt people down and then try to sap money from them as they casually engage our community for a while until they slip away leaving us to wonder where they went when it comes time to review the membership roster, I suggest that membership becomes a serious endeavor. Feel free to engage the community in any way you wish, but don’t be a member until you’re ready to dedicate a serious portion of your “time, talent, and treasure” supporting others in the work of ministry. In short, membership becomes willful servitude.

But this “willful servitude” is undertaken to a particular end: ensuring that others can live a life of mission. Rather than mission being a program that is directed by the congregation, which people do in their spare time, I would like (instead) to see congregations providing nurture, support, and education for people as they dedicate their lives to endeavors which seek to bring freedom to all.

Categories: Church, Leadership, Spirituality, Theology

You know that great idea you have for a church? It’s probably not so great…

Posted on February 22nd, 2012

…but it’s okay. There’s a way around that.

Last fall, I read a great book on startups called The Lean Startup by Eric Reis. I know, I know – you have problems with the mash up of business talk and church talk. I do, too. The great thing is that this book hates “business talk” as well.

Everything Reis writes is based on the idea that traditional business practices are good for traditional businesses, but that start ups are completely different beasts. Much of what he offers is golden, but here is the most golden thing:

The #1 job of a startup is to learn.

Here’s what Reis has to say on theleanstartup.com:

Too many startups begin with an idea for a product that they think people want. They then spend months, sometimes years, perfecting that product without ever showing the product, even in a very rudimentary form, to the prospective customer. When they fail to reach broad uptake from customers, it is often because they never spoke to prospective customers and determined whether or not the product was interesting. When customers ultimately communicate, through their indifference, that they don’t care about the idea, the startup fails.

I think this has HUGE implications for starting new churches because it is the difference between emphasizing the product and the people.

About a year and a half into my ministry at the church I was serving, I tried to reframe the way our congregation did missions work. Influenced by my time at Covenant Community Church in Louisville and the work of The Church of the Savior in Washington, DC, I was convinced that the best way to help persons engage in service to the world was to help them arrange themselves in to smaller “intentional communities.”

To that end, I embarked on a months long planning and implementation process to help persons discern their gifts and the needs of the world, to train them to lead communities, etc. When all was said and done no one took advantage of the training I had given them by starting a community.

The hard lesson I learned was that the people I was serving wanted to serve God’s world, but they didn’t want to do it through these intentional communities.

The Lean Startup method suggests that every entrepreneur begin with a “minimum viable product” (MVP). The MVP is a bare bones, rudimentary version of the product that allows that startup to learn whether they have a sustainable model on their hands. By placing the MVP into the hands of a continuous series of customers, they will learn what does and does not work or whether they are even in the right market sector at all.

As I wrote in Open Source Church, I happen to think that the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the point of the church is to actualize freedom. Given this, what is the church version of the MVP?

Categories: Church

Tagged: church of the savior, covenant community church, intentional communities, start ups

Religio Reductio: What Liberal Christians are Giving Up for Lent 2012

Posted on February 21st, 2012

Categories: Religio Reductio

Giving up chocolate and beer for Lent is not what Jesus had in mind

Posted on February 19th, 2012

In three days, it will be Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. Naturally, folks are all abuzz about how to best observe. As I read through Facebook comments, tweets, and blog posts, I find that I have had all of the typical responses.

“I’m gonna give up chocolate or alcohol.”
“Giving things up is ridiculous. God wants us to live fully live. This whole practice is just stupid.”
“Instead of giving something up, I’m taking something on this year.”

Like I said: I’ve said and done each of these things. I’ve given up something that was that important, I’ve wholly rejected the practice as a part of my rejection of conformist religion, and I’ve tried to reframe “self-denial” into “self-giving.”

But each of these responses makes a mistake, in my opinion. Notice that all of them are about me. They have very little to do with what God might be doing, but about something that I’m doing. Each of these responses betray a belief that I am the one in control, that I am the one, ultimately, who matters. As Richard Rohr says,

Resurrection takes care of itself. It’s getting people into tombs that’s hard. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, most contemporary people, both liberals and conservatives, abhor boundaries.

This realization was a hard truth for me, and so I have returned to the classic Lenten disciplines of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. I encourage you to do the same.

Prayer

Prayer is not about asking God for things. It is about establishing, maintaining, or strengthening your connection to God in Christ. We do this so that we can begin to see the world as Christ sees it.

This is the first, most foundational Lenten practice. If you do nothing else during Lent, commit to the practice of daily prayer (preferably silent and contemplative, like Centering Prayer or praying with beads). Lent is the perfect time to reignite your prayer life. It is the time of the year when we intentionally focus on dying in order to rising.

Fasting

Fasting (what we typically mean when we talking of “giving something up”) is not about doing without “something you LOVE,” but doing without something you need. We should be limiting our chocolate and alcohol intake anyway. What do you say we not use Lent as an excuse to go on a diet?

The point of fasting is to recognize our dependence on God’s provision. Typically, fasting is done once or twice a week. Try John Wesley‘s practice of sundown to sundown on Mondays to Tuesdays and Thursdays to Fridays.

Almsgiving

If you are submitting to Christ through prayer and fasting, you will begin to see Christ in “the least of these.” When you do, offer yourself to the Christ you find in them. It’s really very simple, and it can be planned or spontaneous. Either way, it will be countercultural.

If you’re anything like me, you have to fight making spiritual practice into a self-improvement project. The Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are the best ways to avoid that impulse that I’ve found. As Craig Dykstra wrote in Growing In The Life of Faith, Spiritual practices are actually not ours. They are the practices of the Holy Spirit that we get to inhabit. That these practices are not mine is important, in my opinion. Whereas Lenten disciplines are intended to remind us of our dependence on God, we more often inhabit these practices as if we are the ones responsible for the outcome of our lives and the world.

In the end, whatever you do during Lent is between you and God, but let’s commit to engaging in disciplines that remind us of our dependence on God not ones that prop us up as the saviors of ourselves.

Categories: Spirituality

Tagged: almsgiving, fasting, Lent, prayer, social justice, spiritual discipline