Important Discoveries

Part 1: When I soften my facial expression, I actually feel happier.
Part 2: Most people don't get irony. Incidentally, many of my jokes are misunderstood.
Part 3: Telling jokes that other people don't get is still fun.
Part 4: When I put less soap in my dishwasher, the dishes get cleaner.
Part 5: People pay closer attention when I whisper than when I yell.
Part 6: If my son calls my web page butter, that's a good thing.
Part 7: Not everyone likes to be the center of attention. I know. Isn't that weird?
Part 8: If I quit thinking about whether I want to do something and just do it, it gets done.
Part 9: Alice Cooper is not a girl.
Part 10: When I don't get my way, everything turns out fine anyway.

Church Is Not a Social Club

I once was part of a church where one of my good friend wasn't allowed to play on the church softball team (which competed against other churches in the league) because she wasn't a member. Ironically, she was gladly welcomed to teach Sunday school each week, shaping the lives of the members' children.

Given the sometimes arbitrary ways rules are applied, does church membership make any sense at all?

I posed this question on Twitter and Facebook, and heard strong opinions on both sides.

Here are some of the reasons (all of which I agree with) why people support membership:

• It encourages commitment, investment, and ownership
• It is a public pronouncement that benefits others
• It creates a strong sense of belonging
• It is mutually beneficial (for members and the church)
• It is a formal acknowledgement that you can't be a Christian alone
• It forces you to consider carefully before leaving

Here are some of the reasons why people opposed membership:

• "I feel at home at my church, but I sometimes wonder if I'm not considered as important as the members."
• "It seems to discourage independent thought."
• "It's only a formality, so not necessary."
• "I don't want to join a social club."
• "The pressure from church leaders to join was off-putting."
• "I once thought I was saved just because I was a member. I didn't know there was more to it."
• "It divides churches and denominations."

As for me, I'm an optimist. I think it's possible to enjoy all the pros of church membership while avoiding the cons.

• I believe we can truly value all people, whether or not they are members ... or even attendees.
• I believe we can probe spiritual issues deeply even as we hold to basic tenets of the faith.
• I believe the formality of membership can have great significance in people's lives.
• I believe membership creates a sense of belonging to a community that is much deeper than companionship.
• I believe church leaders can affirm people by inviting them to membership without using pressure.
• I believe truth can be communicated about the difference between membership and faith.
• I believe churches and denominations can work together even more effectively if they have a strong sense of identity based on who they are in Christ.

In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I've been a part of the church all my life. I was baptized as an infant, made profession of faith as a young teen, and have been a church member ever since. I have served on church boards and am now married to the pastor-elect of my own local church. I may be a bit biased.

The church is intended to be a community that gathers to worship God, encourages each other in the faith, and invites others to experience God and his people. All should be welcome and valued in this place, whether they are long-term leaders or first-time visitors. If membership is introduced in such a way that it hurts others, it has lost its true purpose.

Whether we like it or not, the church is a human organization, and we need the structure that membership provides. Don't get me wrong; the church is not a social club, as if our whole purpose is to meet new people who have similar morals. Jesus himself created the church. I will not minimize it. Even so, it is run by people like you and me, and without clear guidelines, we will not have order. How can we call people to account if we have not agreed on what we believe? How can we select leaders if we don't know whether they adhere to any set of principles? Truth is not relative, and scripture is not easily interpreted.

Membership should be offered to people who would like to make a personal and public declaration of commitment to their local body and who would like to become leaders in their church. However, church leaders should be wary of pressuring others to make this step, and they should be intentional about avoiding the potential pitfalls that are sometimes associated with membership.

Regardless of how many mistakes the church makes, I am in love with this institution, and it has my undying commitment. It is because of the church that I know Christ and his love.

Fat and Happy

I’m happy. How could I not be? I’ve got me a good man and a plethora of children. I have meaningful work and a gorgeous home. Best of all, I am in love with the Lord and know how treasured I am by him.

Sometimes I feel guilty for being so happy. Some of my closest friends are going through difficult times; I read the news; I’ve been to Africa and seen the suffering there. The world is not always a happy place. But then I remember the words that held me when I thought I would die of despair. “Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,” (Psalm 90:15). God must have been smiling when I bawled out those words, knowing he would answer that prayer beyond what I could ask or imagine.

I know what it is to suffer, but as I always say, “Through all the circumstances of my life, I have gained more than I have lost ... and I'm not just talking weight.”

Maybe I should talk weight, though. I mean, all this happiness is causing my scale to malfunction. (Certainly, I don’t weigh that much!) I’ve been enjoying my life so much—“taking time to heal,” as my friends all say—that I’m edging toward gluttony. My blessing intake is not balanced with my blessing output.

In Africa, fat is in. Not many there can afford the amount of food it takes to get overweight, so big bellies are shown off the way Americans might show off a new Porsche or a fancy home. I've seen a large woman in Liberia rub her jelly belly as lovingly as one would pet the family dog ... as I held a starving, orphan boy in my arms. Her arrogance disgusted me.

It disgusted me all the more when I realized I was just like her.

I don’t want to be fat and happy. I don’t want to be rubbing my jelly-belly blessings when others are suffering. God blesses me so I can be a blessing to others. God didn’t give Abraham a son so that old Abe could show off his family photo album to his friends; God gave Abraham a son so that all nations could be blessed through him.

With this in mind, I took a small step and volunteered at a homeless shelter today. I was surprised to discover that I was nervous about going; I mean, it wasn't so long ago that my own home in the inner city acted as a sort of homeless shelter for my struggling neighbors. It’s scary how quickly I became uncomfortable around the type of people I used to live with, the type of people Jesus loved so madly. Anyway, I went and sorted clothes at the second-hand store they're starting up. And it was fun! I’m going to go again next week.

I’m glad I’m realizing before it happens that fat and happy doesn’t last forever. If I’m not giving as much of this joy away as I can, I’ll end up fat and miserable.

Tiny Little Babies

My friend Brian Lovell—whose wife Amy is in the hospital on bed rest as their twins grow within her—wrote a touching entry in his journal on the CaringBridge site. She is 23-weeks along, and one of the babies is struggling.

Here's what he wrote:

"We believe that God knows all and is holding us in His hands. As [4-year-old] Kaleb said to me in the car the other day while listening to the song (He's got the Whole World in His Hands): 'Daddy, Jesus has our tiny little babies in His hands, right?' And as I held back my tears, I knew God was speaking to me through the innocent eyes of my child."

Please pray for Brian, Amy, Kaleb, and the twins.

It's Not Just a Game

If only Dungee had challenged the call in the first quarter. Or if Manning had called tails. Or if the Chargers' punter wasn't so good.

I woke up with these thoughts swimming in my sadness, and I'm a relatively new fan of the Colts, having just discovered football three years ago. Imagine how Dungee and his team must be second-guessing themselves.

Or maybe they're not. They played with passion and skill against another playoff-achieving team, and could be beat only through chance and overtime. They fought hard throughout the season, stunning us with their athleticism over and over again. Maybe they're not looking back. Maybe they're looking forward to what they can achieve next year.

Perhaps we love football so much because it represents so much more than a game. We can share communally the great emotion of wins and losses. When we see our beloved players training themselves so ruthlessly and achieving great success, we are inspired to pursue excellence ourselves, realizing that hard work pays off. When our team loses a critical game and we plunge into misery, we eventually remember that there is always next year—for the trials in our own lives as well.

Yesterday's match may have been just a game, but football certainly isn't.