the running rev:

When you read Mark 1.18-25 who or what do you see?

I see a God-man (Jesus) who is a teacher whose teaching is unlike anything that the people have ever experienced.

This teacher, however, doesn’t just expound upon the scripture authoritatively. He speaks authoritatively to and confidently addresses the brokenness, the fragmentation of a man who interrupts the synagogue gathering that is already in session.

The God-man’s stern reply was born out of a concern for the demon possessed man. Jesus was confident that the man had a problem, which resulted in brokenness and fragmentation. Yet, he was equally confident that he could do something about this problem. Thus, with authority, he addressed the demon. He commanded the demon to come out of the possessed man.

In an instant, with authority, the God-man Jesus transformed the man and his story. No longer was he the fragmented loon who barged in and interrupted the orderly synagogue meeting. Instead, his story became one whose plot contained the dual themes of restoration and wholeness.

Being a prude is something that I have never been accused of.

Nor had it been suggested that I have an aversion to technology, social media and the like.

I share those two bits of information only because they provide much-needed perspective for what I am about to say.

A little less than two weeks ago I posted a response to what I believed to be a sincere question inviting honest responses. The question was posed in a Facebook group that I was part of. (Please allow me to stress that I was, but no longer am part of this group. So, if you are my friend on Facebook, or are thinking about trying to become my friend, so that you can find out what groups I belong to and other juicy details – forget about it.) Within two hours of posting my response, that spoke from the perspective of my experiences regarding the particular subject, I received a few tweets and Facebook messages that were rather unsavory (yeah, that’s probably the best way to put it).

I wish I could say that my comments were outlandish and pertained to a hot-button issue. But, my comments weren’t outlandish or off base. They reflected my experience as a pastor, both in a medium church in a suburban environment and in a small church in a rural context.

So, I removed my response to the question. I left the group, which has been founded to serve as a sounding board for those who seek change at a grassroots level.

The response to my comment made it clear that any thoughts that did not provide support (artificial or otherwise) would be met with resistance and anger, which is a sad thing, especially when my comments were merely pertaining to why stories of success in the small church aren’t often heard.

Yet, even after removing my comment, I continued to receive emails and Facebook messages. So, I unplugged. I disconnected. Those who have tried to reach me via Facebook have likely found that they have not received a response. (Something for which I apologize and ask your forgiveness if you have tried to reach me. Likewise, if you have attempted to email me, you will notice that my response time has been sorely lagging – this is intentional and is the result of increased email filtering.)

For a little over a week, I’ve taken step back from my online activity (Twitter and this blog being the only exceptions). I can honestly say that I feel less anxious about things. I no longer approach my computer or phone with fear of what messages might await. I no longer sit, with head shaking in disapproval, and heart grieved as people argue about trivial issues while the rest of the world debates issues that are far more pressing.

So, do yourself a favor and unplug. Take a week or so and get some perspective. What you’ll likely discover is that the relationships and conversations taking place in close proximity to you are probably far more important than the relationships and conversations that are taking place online.

(And just in case you didn’t make the connection between my two initial statements a d the rest of the post, here it is: I’m the last person you would expect to hear say, “Unplug. Facebook and social media are toxic and are damaging your life and your relationships.” Yet, here I am and that is what I’m saying. Lay off Facebook. Quit exploring Second Life, instead go and live your first life.)

A few years ago I authored some curriculum that might best be described as a “discipleship intensive.” Beginning on Ash Wednesday and spanning 46 days, a group went through the curriculum together.

Their involvement included completion of the “Project Manual,” which included:

• Daily lenten meditations.

• Daily Scripture readings. Participants read the vast majority of the Bible over the span of 46 days. Intense? Yes. But like I said, it was an intensive discipleship journey.

• Daily study questions to aid in digesting the text.

• Designed to be used in a group setting, there were weekly accountability questions (they could be answered/discussed more frequently if those in the group desired).

• The Project Manual also included weekly reflection questions and questions designed to get each individual (and the group) to think about how they might enact what they’ve studied at home, at church, and in their community.

The Project Manual was done in conjunction with a group Sunday School class (where we’d review the study questions) and a weekly group meal (where we would debrief and have a conversation about where the week’s material had especially “hit home”).

The Metamorphosis Project, as we called it, was received rather well. We had two groups graduate. Over 30 people went through the program, considering that we were a church of 70 at the time, that’s a relatively high level of involvement.

Feedback was solicited and received. Modifications to the curriculum were made.

I’m pleased to say that a few publishers have approached me about the publishing the curriculum. Most wanted to produce a three-product package: Project Manual; Small Group Curriculum; and Weekly Messages on DVD. Standalone products would have started around $15 for the Project Manual, with complete kits retailing somewhere in the $125-150 range.

These prices, I believe, were too high. So I’ve shopped around. After much searching, and some incredibly value conversations with a friend who has recently done some publishing, I’ve decided to self-publish through CreateSpace. This avenue will allow for relatively decent exposure, lower pricing, while still allowing for digital copies via Kindle.

Unfortunately, for now, that means only the Project Manual will be available. I don’t have the time or resources to produce the weekly message DVDs or the small group curriculum. Thus, these things will have to be put off until time, resources, or demand dictate otherwise.

Regardless, I’m excited to announce that within a few weeks, I should have some details about where and when you can begin to purchase the book. Even without the DVD and small group curriculum, the Project Manual (as I continue to call it until it is officially released under its title) will make a wonderful companion for you and yours this Lenten season.

Throughout our married life, Crystal and I have elected to forgo television to practice focus our time and attention elsewhere. A few years ago, however, we decided to take the plunge and once again “tune in.” Not wanting to pay a lot and hoping not to become TV junkies, we checked to see if it might be possible to get an antenna.

Research revealed that an antenna was not a viable option, thus we were left weighing the pros and cons of the cable/satellite debate. In the end satellite won out on the basis of price and programming.

A little over two and half years into our contract, I can honestly say that satellite was a good option. We were able to watch sporting events, stay abreast of the latest news, and enjoy some mindless entertainment when it was needed.

Sadly, our satellite package that initially cost $31 now costs almost $50. Our satellite provider, after a number of phone calls agreed to lower our bill by $10 if we would be willing to stay with them.

Yet, at the end of the day, we couldn’t do it.

We knew that the price would eventually go up (they could only guarantee it for a year).

Continuing with our satellite provider would mean paying for lots of program that: a) we didn’t view and, b) we could get elsewhere.

What we’ve decided to do is purchase a Roku player. We can stream Netflix and instant videos that are available free through Amazon Instant Video to Amazon Prime members through the device. For a mere $7.99 per month (and currently without sales tax, service fees, and governmental fees) we are able to subscribe to Hulu+ and have on-demand access to most of the television programs that we enjoy.

The big downside of what we’re attempting is that we will have limited access to live sports.

The upside: lower cost (even with Hulu+ we’ll end up saving around $40 per month); fewer commercials; and access to both current and previous episodes of many television shows.

Thus far, after a week of experimentation, we have found that we are using the Roku more than our satellite service. The selection of programs has been fantastic and streaming quality is as good as our satellite feed.

Another benefit: there are a number of new apps springing up daily for the Roku. The TED conference has a nice little app that allows us to watch videos from the 1000+ TED talks that are now available. Churches, such as Elevation Church, have apps available so that you can stream their services (if that’s what floats your boat). There are also a number of apps related to news, weather, and indie films.

At this very moment I am sitting in bed typing away on my iPad while watching reruns of MacGyver on Netflix. As I watch I can’t help buy chuckle. In this particular episode MacGyver has been buried in an avalanche. Someone, using just the handful of items he finds on his person, he manages to survive.

As a kid, I was amazed by MacGyver’s ingenuity and his ability to patch together a solution to whatever problem he might be presented with in a particular episode. Then, it was good TV. Now, however, it is both irritating and laughable.

It hit me as I was watching tonight’s laughable rerun that many a pastor and a church operate from an ecclesiological paradigm that is very MacGyver-like. The shifting tectonic plates of culture collide causing an avalanche that seemingly buries the church alive.

The church and/or its leaders survey their surroundings looking for some “thing” that will keep them alive. Some thing that will allow them to hang on at least a little while longer until help comes.

In more than a few instances that “thing” has been a convenient and easy to digest theology (e.g. the “prosperity gospel”) that fills the pews for a time.

Other handy solutions have presented themselves in the form of material and/or programs that have worked in another church. “If it has worked before,” the argument goes, “Surely it will work again and breathe new life into our situation.”

When times get tough and the pews get barren, the church gets resourceful.

Unfortunately, these changes, born out of necessity, are often reactionary. As such they tend to be based upon “what works.” “What works,” however, has a short lifespan. What works, and draws crowds to fill the pews one week, may not the next week. What works, and results in a need for bigger buildings, may not work a year down the road, resulting in a big but empty building that has mortgage and utility payments that still need to be made.

The MacGyver approach to church ecclcan (and does) work for a time.

There is a time and a place for the MacGyvers. There is a need for them.

But this world, God’s kingdom, and the church also need those who do more than simply improvise and react when a crisis comes.