“We are working for a weird business.”

Those words spoken over lunch made me consider the place of the church in the world. Who are we as an institution? What have we become?

In the business world, your priority is either on quality, quantity, or customer service. Seldom does one cross back and forth in equal balance. With churches seeking to be more business savvy, it begs the same questions asked above.

This is a terrible quandary. In classes, we are told that it’s not about the numbers, yet the is an emphasis on numbers in order to keep records. We are told to strive toward excellence, yet the pursuit of excellence can distract us from worshipping through our ministry. If we seek to make people comfortable and provide the best possible “customer service” church, there would never be a confrontational message.

This paradox attacks the heart with pure intentions for ministry. The demands of expecationalism have the same, lasting effect on a pastor as pornography has on a young man. It causes us to be forever plagued by thoughts of wanting more performance driven ministries and our feelings of inadequicy causes us to gauge our ministries by how much better or worse we are than others. Something is not right. Something has to give.

I was glad to be a sounding board over lunch, to simply listen rather than talk. But it saddened me that someone whose heart and motive was once so pure had to ask how they disappeared or where they got lost. It is almost as though his heart had been violated by the business mentality of the church.

What have we become? We have become , as my friend put it, become “spectators in the sport of life” who like to sit back and watch from the stands, occasionally yelling strategies and moves to the players. All the while, we are so happy to sit in the stands rather than diving into the game and enjoying the victories, defeats, pains, and rushes of life.

Who are we? We’re supposed to be the body of Christ. But as I sat and listened to this young pastor, I couldn’t help but think of the words of Casting Crowns: “If we are the body, why aren't His arms reaching ? Why aren't His hands healing? Why aren't His words teaching? And if we are the body why aren’t His feet going? Why is His love not showing them there is a way?”

Providing Care... for a price:

We've all heard about gas prices and how some places are increasing the margin between cost and sale price - I suppose that is crafty marketing - not good marketing. I don't want to spend this blog complaining about that though. Here is what I am miffed about though.

Back in July, about one week before I was to leave for Croatia on a missions trip, I got really sick. Being the stubborn person that I am, I refused to go to the doctor. The need to get well and the prodding of people who cared about me forced my hand and I went.

While I was there, I was told that I had nothing more than a simple cold. Ok, I know my body and I know when a sniffle is a sniffle and that having no voice, spiking a fever so high that it made me curl up and fall asleep on the floor, no energy, a splitting headache, loss of hearing, and an imbalanced equalibrium says to me that this is a little more than the common cold. The doctor hands me a perscription for what is a glorified Psudaphed (an over the counter decongestant)....

I had to go back AGAIN because my head felt like it was going to explode and that I was going to rupture my eardrums. The medicine which I was told would make me feel better actually made things worse. I almost had to beg for an antibiodic.

Here it is now 2 months later and I am being told that I owe them $77. I am insured - this doesn't add up. I have claim numbers, check numbers, dates received/cased, and an explanation of benefits that says otherwise. In conversation with my parents, I discovered that some places will actually send you a bill hoping that you'll pay them ON TOP of what your insurance pays them. This is a load of crap.

So on my slate of things to do tomorrow, I have to add a special visit to Noblesville to make my case. But for now, I make a phone call.... if they will not listen then, I will make my case face to face. I pray for patience and the love of Christ to fill me in times like this because inside, I know that the raging Italian is just waiting to burst forth in vidicative rage... and we don't like it when that happens

"We Ain't Got No Place to go,":

Blessed anticipation! I have not been this excited for quite some time! I just found out that there is a happening on October 9th about a half an hour away from here. This happening will be glorious... This happening is none other than the Panic with a K Tour!

"So let's go to a Punk Rawk show!"

Next Sunday night, I will be bringing the mosh to the Eagle Center and I will dance, skank, and mosh my silly brains out to the glorious tunes of MxPx, Relient K, and Rufio!

"Darlin' take me by the hand, we're gunna hear a punk rock band"

I can't wait... 12 days..... MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!! I can almost feel it... the loud music, the energy of the kids, the joy of the circle pit.

"There's no use in TV shows or radios or rodeos."

Punk Rawk Madness ensues.

"I wanna get into the crowd, I wanna hear it played REAL loud!"

A Ridiculously Long and Personal Post:

9/24/05: I saw her name again. Too many times, in too many ironic place have I been reminded that what my mind says is over, my heart refuses to accept. Why is it that I cannot go anywhere without being confronted by this? Whether it is on a roadside monument or a random magazine article (all of which have happened), I am reminded of what I no longer have.

I was several states away and with so much more to be on my mind and there it was. Her name was written in the sand, as if my mind had contrived some fantasy of a romantic outing. I shook from my shock to see that it was real... just her name written on an abandon seashore, just another reminder that even two months later, my heart still hurts.

The Damien on the surface says, “It’s cool, I totally understand. What’s done is done.” I shrug off the misconceptions that I actually have someone significant in my life with seamless ease. But deep down, I still question the reason for our abrupt end, though it’s apparently for the best, and our even more untimely beginning. As always, the unanswerable question of “why” rings in my head.

I never asked to feel like this, but the realities of life and love are that it’s a risk. You lay your heart on the line with all your chips and you bare your cards for others to see. The gamble is not knowing how far you’ll play (or be played) without them taking advantage of you.

It makes me wonder if I just outlived my usefulness. Was I used? Was there ever anything there? Was this just one of those behind-the-scenes, interpersonal liaisons that nobody will talk about, but everyone knows? I don’t have the answers.

I will survive because I am not leaning on my own strength. I know that can seem awfully cliché, but in all honesty, without being able to talk to God, who fully understands my heart and my head (more than I do), I’d be sunk.

Someone once pointed me to James 1:2 - 4 during a time like this a few years back. It says: “My brothers and sisters, when you have many kinds of troubles, you should be full of joy, because you know that these troubles test your faith, and this gives you patience. Let your patience show itself perfectly in what you do. Then you will be perfect and complete and will have everything you need.”

We’re pretty much told that life is going to go down around us and it’s so true about every situation in life, good or bad. This doesn’t say anywhere that I have to be happy - being full of joy simply means to be content. If I can make it in times like these without snappy someone’s neck (bitterness or jealousy) and remember to be patient with people, keeping faith that God - not just a principle or a set of rules, but an actual personal person - knows far more about this crazy game of life.

So for now, I’ll show Him my cards and wait until He says it’s right to show them to someone else. Now, if I could only find

a reliable partner....