http://www.harvest-tv.com/video/VOD_GetShow.cfm?ShowID=276

Read more about this plan and Todd’s questions here

What is it? Can it be accomplished? How?

Spiritual practices seem so empty at times.

I have been led to a beginning question. One that is more perplexing than the first. If we are to gain any knowledge or experience of spiritual formation maybe we should contemplate this question first. Maybe it holds the key.

What is the soul?

There, I asked it aloud. Now it must be dealt with.

What if the soul is not something we have but it is more something we are? “It is the very life-pulse within us, that which makes us alive…As such it has two functions:

First of all, it is the principle of energy. Life is energy. There is only one body that does not have any energy or tension within it, a dead one. The soul is what gives life. Inside us it, lies the fire, the eros, the energy that drives us…

Ronald Rolheiser states in The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality, “But the soul does more than merely give energy. It is also the adhesive that holds us together, the principle of integration and individuation within us. The soul not only makes us alive, it also makes us one.”

What if spiritual formation was the nurturing of the fire that burns within us—the energy and tension that defines “alive?” What if it’s about finding a way for peace and tension to live in harmony?

What if spiritual formation is less about spiritual practices and more about nurturing that which keeps us from falling apart? What if it is about nurturing live giving relationships/communities?

What if spiritual formation was more about living with Christ than practicing Christ?

It seems that if this is true then spiritual formation would have a more organic order for our practice than a master plan mindset toward our practices. Our practices would have more descriptive patterns than prescriptive patterns.

Patterns are integral to our lives. They protect us, help us organize what we do from day to day, and even entertain us. Most of the time, we don’t even think about them. We simply absorb them.

When we see a man coming toward us in the distance, we observe the pattern of his walk and know instantly that he is a good friend and not someone intending to do us harm. When we wake up in the morning, our first thought may be: What day is it? Weekdays tend to follow one pattern; weekends another. We hear three or four notes of a melody and we begin to sing along.

Patterns, as organizational tools, can be prescriptive or descriptive. Master plans tend to follow prescriptive patterns. Prescriptive patterns are “prescribed”; they are specific, rigid, and regular. A physician dictates which medication you should use, how often you should take it, and for how long. A general aviation pilot knows to follow a basic airport traffic pattern when no air traffic control tower is present. The patient gets better; collisions are minimized. Sometimes prescriptive patterns are good and necessary.
But when we talk about spiritual formation, prescriptive patterns may not be helpful. Forcing behaviors to accomplish spiritual health may not be the “silver bullet” we are looking for.

Organic order is strengthened by descriptive patterns. Descriptive patterns have an expressive, evocative, and eloquent spirit. They describe reality. They don’t force it. We discover descriptive patterns through observation, as they emerge.

Maybe it would be more helpful to think of those elements that keep us alive and together and describe those as our journey of spiritual formation.

Lord, help me to be alive and soulful…

I’m driven. Ask anyone who knows me I have am italic bent to my life.

But, do I have a purpose? Does God have a purpose for me?

If He does He seems to be a little confused about it. I mean, why does he keep it so secret? Why is it so illusive that over 20 million bought a book to discover it?

If God has a purpose why does He make it so hard to find?

What if He doesn’t have a purpose but, possibilities? What if God’s plan is emerging and liquid not static and set? What if God’s plan is organic and not a Master Plan?

When I was a boy, I started showing an interest in art. My parents often found me with pencil and paper, drawing anything and everything I could bring to mind. The front of the refrigerator door filled quickly with pieces I had completed.

I remember one Christmas, in particular, I had started to show a growing competency in art, my family encouraged me by giving me supplies and instructional books. The more presents I opened, the more excited I became.

My expectations ran high when we arrived at Grandma’s house. In her own way, my grandmother was an artist. Grandma would give me presents selected with the wisdom and insight of a fellow artist!

The first gift came. Brushes. Then the second: a large, rectangular box. I couldn’t suppress my excitement. This would be the gift that would set me on the path of Artist. I unwrapped that present like a starving dog devouring a bowl of food, all the while composing in my mind the wonderful acceptance speech I would give to honor this gift and my hopeful future.

There it was: a paint-by-numbers kit. I was shocked into silence.

Grandma kept looking at me as only grandmothers can, eyes full of love, a voice full of tenderness: “Now you can paint beautiful paintings.”

Beautiful paintings! What did she think of the ones I had already done? Weren’t they beautiful? Weren’t they art? Her gift told me that in her mind I was no artist at all. I was just a little boy trying on a new hobby. Maybe if I could learn to follow somebody else’s plan, I could produce “beautiful paintings.”

It is not true that an artist is someone who manufactures art. An artist is someone who enables art to emerge from a canvas—someone who has the strengths, competencies, and patience to bring that miracle into being.

Art is not formulaic, like a paint-by-numbers kit. It has life. It is viewed and appreciated. It moves and inspires. It invites participation, intermingling its own story with those of its observers.

God invites our artistic participation in life. He does not have a master plan—paint-by-number experience waiting for you to discover. God invites you to paint your life and discover the masterpiece!

Why?

For several reasons but, let’s unpack just one that confuses me.

There are at least two times where Jesus has an opportunity to lead an anxious group forward and he runs.

First, Jesus is describing the competencies of a good shepherd and he says something like “If it were me, I would leave the 99 in the desert to find the one who has lost its way.” That doesn’t sound like a great leader. I’ve never heard any of the books describe a leader who would escape the responsibility of the group for one rebellious soul. That just doesn’t sound like “getting the right people on the bus” mentality.

In another place, Jesus is talking to a group who are in their hour of need. And, again He runs. “I must leave you. I can not stay. But, don’t worry someone else is coming.” I haven’t seen a leadership model like this in the literature I’m reading.

It seems to me that a leader is to lead by presence more than being present. To build a movement based on being present will surely die. To lead a movement on presence requires one to leave.

So, maybe the question is “Can you leave knowing whatever you are leading will continue to move forward?”

Leading with presence may require an organic use of power.

Master Plan tries to deliver power to individuals through position. A person is set into a position on an organizational chart and given control, authority, jurisdiction, permission-granting rights, and influence. He or she is trained in how to use these tools to achieve the master plan.

Organic Order asks, “Who is now the steward of power?” and “Who is now leading?” Positions have no place of permanent importance. There is a revolving understanding of power.

In a framework of revolving power, there is no dominant member. Like the dynamic game, “rock, paper, scissors,” no one element stands as permanent leader. Rock is covered by a single sheet of paper. Paper is cut down to size by scissors. Scissors are crushed under the rock. This revolving understanding of power gives flow to the game and makes it competitive. (And interesting!)

Feel free to lead with presence and a revolving understanding of power. Let go of your fleeting positional power. Not even God tries to control your life with positional power

God you left the kingdom in some messy hands, please let me be as wise.

“Myers is a great apologist for the way we are doing church, and what he’s advocating, though certainly more easily appropriated in a smaller setting, isn’t just for small churches. What he’s talking about will push you towards some ways of doing things and away from others, but as with his last book, everyone from big church people to house church people would do well to wrap their heads around what organic ministry means.”

Read the rest of Bob’s post here…

I pulled up just as the sun was returning to the other side for the night. I parked the car, locked the door, swung the computer bag over my shoulder and was heading up the driveway when my stroll was interrupted by a voice from across the street.

“How was your day?” It was the Donelan’s, my neighbors.

“It went well,” I turned and replied.

“Sure is a nice evening.”

“Yes,” I agreed and then I continued toward the front door.

It’s reassuring to know the Donelans will be on their front porch when I get home. I’m envious. I’d like to have a front porch, too. Their home is the only one on our street that has one. Most of our homes sport a wood deck on the back yet, the Donelan’s front porch makes this street seem more neighborly, secure, and peaceful.

I want a front porch. I’m not alone.

In our time people have a hunger for “median spaces”. Median spaces are where we make social and personal connections. Median spaces are where people experience that “front porch” feeling.

The American front porch further represents the ideal of community in America. For the front porch existed as a zone between the public and private, an area that could be shared between the sanctity of the home and the community outside. It was an area where interaction with the community could take place. For ‘the master’s farm business, the mistress’s selection of goods and produce, the home craftsmen’s sales and sundry negotiations of the cooler sort (with the hired man, the foreman, the slave or house servant, the distressed or disgruntled neighbor, even with the unpredictable stranger form the muddy road) could all be conducted in the civil atmosphere offered by the shade of a prominent porch, apart from the sleeping and feeding quarters and without serious risk to the family’s physical and psychic core’ (Out on the Porch). The porch further fostered a sense of community and neighborliness. In the evenings, as people moved outdoors, the porch served to connect individuals. The neighbors from next door might stop by one’s house, to sit on the porch and discuss personal and community issues. The couple walking down the street might offer a passing ‘Hello,’ as they passed house after house of inhabitants rested outdoors.¹

While researching material for my new book, The Search to Belong: Rethinking Intimacy, Community, and Small Groups, I stumbled across the concept of the front porch. In the book A Pattern Language: Towns, Building, Construction², there is a discussion about the effective and affective use of front porches, side porches (gardens), and back porches (decks).

The back deck has become the new standard for the American home. Americans wanting to reclaim the experiences of their childhood memories on their grandparent’s front porch, built pressure treated decks on the back of their homes. But the back deck provides a different kind of experience, one that is more exclusive and intimate than its front porch ancestor. The location is the wrong space to provide a front porch experience. Consequently, back decks are rarely used.

Unfortunately, along with its host culture, the American church has moved evangelism to the back deck. Congregation are instructed that effective evangelism uses the exclusive, intimate, and “pressure treated” language of the back deck. Get people away from the world, talk to them as though they were intimate friends, feed them the biblically marinated food from a grill, and argue them into faith.

Regrettably, evangelism marketers have convinced us that people really need this back deck kind of experience.

The front porch is a social space—an entry point for neighborly conversation. Watch Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Opie and Helen and you will see the Front Porch conversation practiced at its best.

People in our time yearn for this kind of conversation. They want to engage in a neighborly conversation about life—including their spiritual life. They do not however want to be dragged inside or to the back deck. Forget “spiritual” BBQs. They can smell that one coming like burnt burgers.

Want to discover how to teach your church the lost art of front porch conversations? Start by watching an Andy Griffith rerun together, then head to your local Starbucks and eavesdrop on the Barista’s conversations with some of the regulars. And don’t forget to ask the servers how their day is going.

¹The Cultural Significance of the American Front Porch

²Alexander, Christopher, Sara Ishikawa, Murray Silverstein, with Max Jacobson, Ingrid Fiksdahl-King, Shlomo Angel, A Pattern Language: Towns-Buildings, Construction, Oxford University Press, New York, 1977.

“Doing well,” I replied.

Not missing a beat, I went on with my search. I did make eye contact and I didn’t want to. However, in the back of my mind I knew the greeting was entirely too jolly for the salesman to let our conversation end.

He let me search for a few seconds. Then, interrupting the silence he asked, “Can I help you find something?”

My knee-jerk reaction is always a quick, “No thank you, I’m just looking.” There, I had done it. I had brushed him off like a fly on a cow’s back.

It wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t just browsing to see what was available. I was looking for something specific.

A few more seconds went by as I diligently went into “hunter-gather” mode. I rapidly scanned the shelves looking for the familiar container size, color, and design. Thank God for franchising. You can count on the franchise, from city to city, to shelve product in approximately the same place. I went to my right, stopping mid-store. There it is. “Grab it and go,” I said to myself.

Just as I reached for the item I noticed a similar formula to its left.

“I have a couple of customers that swear by that product,” he said as he moved closer.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want his input. I knew what I wanted. “Get it and get out,” I shouted to myself.

A few steps away he started spouting a laundry list of nutritional information. He said, “I needed to this or that. I should supplement this with that.” The information formed a mountain around me.

“I’ll just get this,” I said moving toward the check out counter.

“Great, have you tried…?”

I reminded him, “No, I think this will be all.”

He continued to engage me as he rang up my two items.

“Do you have one of our Gold Member cards?”

“No, and I don’t think I want one tonight, thanks” I promptly informed him.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“No, I’m from Cincinnati.”

“What brings you to these parts?” he inquired.

“I am writing a book, and I thought…”

He enthusiastically interrupted, “You’re writing a book? What’s it about?”

This question along with his enthusiasm slowed my exit strategies.

“It is about how we communicate space to help people connect, belong and develop community.”

With a very inquisitive look he responded, “Hey, that’s cool. Tell me more. What do you mean “communicate space.””

“People want to connect,” I proceeded to share with him. “All of us have a need to belong. Belonging happens in four spaces: Public, Social, Personal and Intimate. When we recognize that people have different spaces they want to connect with us in we can match our communication tools to the context and help them feel safe and comfortable. When we speak a spatially foreign vocabulary they have a sense of unease and anxiety.”

“Wow, that’s real cool. But, how does all this relate to someone like me,” he wisely asked.

“Well, you asked me if I wanted a membership card, right? Do you know why I didn’t want the card to get the discount?”

“No, but there are several people who say, “No” and they come in here all the time. They could really save a lot of cash. It’s a good deal,” he rambled.

“I didn’t want the card because I didn’t want to be that close to you. I didn’t want you to send me mail. I didn’t want you to have all my personal information in your data base. It is simply too close,” I informed him.

“I can see that. You really fought me as I was trying to help you. I was getting too close, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. You see people come here to buy personal items and sometimes intimate items. People come to find help with their weight. Others come because of an illness or the fear of illness.”

“And some come for help with their sex life,” he interrupted again.

“That’s right. You are not a grocery store or a department store. You sell personal and intimate product, much like Victoria Secret. People are cold to you when you invade personal and intimate space with a public or social sales model.”

“So, how do I develop a sales model that helps them feel comfortable,” he asked.

“I’m not sure but, I think that most people like to open their own doors to let people walk into personal and intimate space. Maybe the model looks like a gentle knock to let people know you are here if they need you and then step back and let them open the door.”

“Yes, that’s it. Like with you, I invaded your space, which was not good, however, I finally knocked in a way that you opened up. It’s all about giving people the space to decide how they want to belong to this store and product. Wow, that’s cool, a selling space,” he replied.

As we help people with their lives, we could allow them to live in the spaces they choose. We could encourage them to belong in the space that is comfortable for them at the time. We could treat them as a significant part of the “family.” We could stop forcing people into a space that is closer than they want to be. Forced belonging is called assault. “Family” is an open and free space, not closed and controlled.

Be at peace, even if you are selling the most intimate product, others will find it in their own space. Gently knock and wait for them to invite you to the space they choose

Petite and pretty, Sheila (not her real name) was on her way to visit friends for the weekend. After the preflight “safety show” we resumed our small talk. One of five children, Sheila lives just outside LA., and was a little concerned about the temperature in Atlanta. We didn’t talk long, just long enough to feel a sense of peace.

Strangers to Friends

Airplanes are public spaces. Although the seating arrangement, with everyone side-by-side looking forward, makes conversation difficult, the environment encourages public belonging.

“Ladies and gentleman.” The captain’s deep voice sounded over the intercom. “Although we’re ready to push back from the gate, we’ve been instructed to wait.” The deep sighs of resignation were audible all around me. “We’ve got to squeeze in thirty more people whose flight has been cancelled due to a problem with their aircraft.” People groaned. The sighing turned to swearing.

Finally we took off. During the four-hour flight, people slept, watched the movie, read, and worked on their laptops. There was very little conversing.

As we landed and deplaned, conversations began again. People wished each other good luck and safety in travel. Everyone new the next few minutes were going to be frustrating as we discovered just how messed up our schedules were. Most were good-natured about it.

The gate-connections counter was a mess; no one seemed to know what was going on. Frustration was turning to anger. One guy threw down the ropes that kept us in a line and screamed at the gate agent. Expletives filled the air. He became more agitated when security showed up. Just as the security guards were about to take him away, something amazing happened. People from our flight talked to him and calmed him down. They also convinced the security guards that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and that it was unnecessary to take their friend away.

“Friend?” We barely knew the guy. But here we were, defending him to airport security and helping him stay out of trouble. At what point, I asked myself, in our four hours together did this guy go from being a complete stranger to a friend? Watching public belongers care in such a significant way amazed me.

This small group had become a one-time, episodic community.

Instant Community - Act II

“Ladies and gentleman we are about ready to load the aircraft. However, this flight is in an overbooked situation. (More groans.) If you would like to volunteer to give your seat please come to the gate counter.”

What more could happen? No one was in the mood to give up his or her seat. By this time most thought they had earned it.

Suddenly, one man from our group stood and explained, “I know you would all like to get where you are going, but this lady and her family really need to get back to see their sick mother. They don’t have confirmed seats. Anyone willing to give up their seats for them?”

Immediately people moved toward the counter to give up their seats for this “stranger” and her family. The gate agent finally had to announce that she no longer needed seats. Again, “total strangers” became neighbors.

It Only Takes a Moment to Connect

It only takes a few short moments for people to connect in significant ways. One person’s spontaneous generosity or kindness can create an instant tipping point that creates environments where groups of people connect and help each other with their lives.

I believe we can create such environments in our congregations where people connect in significant, spatially-specific ways. We can bring value to the public way people connect through honoring these environments.

Next time we think about how episodic public encounters are insignificant, we would do well to remember that connections-significant connections-happen in all four spaces: public, social, personal, and intimate.

“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Dayton International Airport where the local time is 1:30 a.m.” I started that journey a stranger among strangers. I arrived no longer a stranger. I had connected in significant ways to people I didn’t know in public space. It felt good to be a human.