Tim Clark’s Blog

I remember first meeting Tom Ferguson when I was 28 years old and getting ready to plant a church in Seattle. He was to be my District Supervisor, and we were getting to know one another since I was coming from out of the area. After talking and praying with him for an hour I recall that I had two distinct thoughts:

First, that he was a godly man. Here was a leader who didn’t just talk about praying, he prayed. When most of us see the encouragement to ‘pray without ceasing’, we somehow read it as slightly hyperbolic; Tom saw that, and lived it literally. There was a constant connection to the Source of his life and that connection was clear to those who knew him.

His humility was just as marked as his prayer life. Tom seemed to embody Romans 12:3—“Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.” There wasn’t false-humility or heavy self-deprecation; he simply came across as unpretentious and solid.

Second, that he was a very authentic Christian leader. Though his life of prayer and devotion was evident, when I asked him what he liked to do with his time he said that he and his wife and friends loved to go see movies. I don’t know why that impressed me so much—it wasn’t about the movies as much as it was about the down-to-earth way he answered that question. It was just so apparent that he wasn’t trying to impress anyone; that he was a real guy who loved Jesus, loved his family and friends, and was faithful to fulfill whatever assignment God had given him.

In other words, his position of leadership (one of the highest positions of leadership a person can have in our denomination) didn’t change who he was. His role didn’t shape his reality. This was simply an assignment that he would steward well, but that didn’t cause him to forget his identity, either.

In subsequent interactions, I would realize that Tom was a very positive guy. I never heard him speak a negative or cynical word, and many others didn’t either. This was a man for whom hope was reality and that flavored the way he talked. One person said that “his vocabulary was always tied to the future”.

That was said last week at his funeral. Tom, who was only in his mid-60′s, died on May 20. A guy who could have had 20+ more years to encourage younger leaders to be godly and real and positive went to be with the Lord. I moved away from the Northwest and hadn’t connected with him for a few years, yet I will miss his influence. And the Foursquare Church I am a part of is poorer today because of our loss.

As I watched his funeral live, online, from 3,000 miles away, there was one more thing I learned about Tom, and it doesn’t surprise me. A friend of his said that Tom didn’t believe that structures or systems or organizations were anointed, but that he was convinced God takes delight in anointing people. I think that is easy to forget. But I want to be more concerned with the anointing on my and other’s lives than I am with the structures or systems we seek to build.

And, I want to be like Tom!

So, for the last few years I’ve been following the TV show LOST. I’m not a pastor who uses his favorite shows as the foundations for sermons—I think the Bible is the best place to start there—but I don’t mind posting a few thoughts about it in a personal blog. (WARNING: If you have not seen the finale and intend to watch it, the following does contain SPOILERS)

1. Mystery: This show has taken viewers through a massive mystery. What is the smoke monster? What is under the hatch? What brought everyone to the island? But if you’ve watched it you realize the answers to all of those mysteries (and more) was not a “what” but a “who”.

One of the tensions created by this show was that though the sci-fi and mythological mysteries didn’t all get answered, the character arcs did find conclusion. People who wanted satisfaction regarding all the ‘why’ questions didn’t get them (See this TED talk to better understand original LOST creator J.J. Abrams’ take on the importance of cultivating and keeping mystery in a story).

At the end of the day, I’m reminded that in real life we don’t always get the answers we seek about what is happening or why it happens; our real job is to focus on the, ‘who’. Who is it we need to worship? Who is in control? Who is it that we get to live our lives with? Who do we need to encourage and support? That leads me to my second thought.

2. Community: In the end, this show was really about the important connections that are made between people.

“Live together or die alone” was a common refrain for the survivors of flight 815. When they didn’t know what was going on they knew they had to stick together or they were done for. Though a theme that emerged is that every one of the individuals on this show was a deeply flawed and broken human, each of them could be accepted as part of the family, with a clean start, if they chose to join the community.

The touch and connection that came through community was a part of the path of redemption for these messed up characters. And this was the core of the deep spirituality found in LOST.

3. Death: Speaking of spirituality, although it was an extremely spiritual show, LOST only borrowed from Christian spirituality. Ultimately there were great theological flaws because it liberally picked from false spiritualities as well.

However, LOST was a great window into how our pluralistic culture may feel about certain spiritual issues, especially about death and what happens after death. As Jack’s dad told him in The End, “Everyone dies sometime, kiddo”; but usually our culture does not encourage people to look hard at what they believe happens after they die. As it wrapped up, one of the big themes of this show seemed to be that while we won’t get answers about why and how things like death happen, they are going to happen, and we’d better learn to prepare for the inevitable.

While LOST suggests that we prepare for the end through community, and reconciliation, and forgiveness, and redemption, and sacrifice, and selflessness, and right choices (all ideas that can be found in Christianity), it stops short of revealing relationship with a personal God as the doorway to these things. The message of the gospel is that humans are not good enough to earn redemption on our own but that we need a Savior, an unflawed Shepherd who will sacrifice Himself to purchase forgiveness and redemption for us.

That redeemer was Jesus Christ. And for a culture not used to really thinking much about what happens after they die, the finale of this show might have opened a window in our culutre for Christians to share the truth with others.

4. Good TV: Finally, we need more TV that is well written. Though I’ve admitted that I didn’t always agree with the worldview of LOST, it was written well and well produced. It was intelligent TV that made you think even if you didn’t like the answers, or non-answers, it provided. It inspired spirited conversation and encouraged communal experiences with groups of people getting together to watch, and then dissect, every show.

In fact, I won’t miss LOST as much as I will miss the small group of friends who gathered at our house every week to watch the show, eat popcorn, and share life together.

Because by next January, when we would normally be gathering on a Tuesday night to start a new season, someone else will be living in our house that just sold, and many in our group will be scattered all over the country due to new jobs and ministry assignments.

It’s even possible that this unique group of valued friends may never all get together in the same way again: Maybe, not even until we die.  But because we all know Jesus, the day will come when we can sit in the same room and enjoy our community once more…

…and maybe then we’ll even understand why Walt was so special!!!

Are you intentionally looking for people who will speak challenging truth into your life?

This is one of the most effective ways to grow: Cultivate real relationships with people you trust who will tell it to you the way it is. We need those who will say, “you really blew that and here is why”, or, “that was pretty good, but it wasn’t great…and this is how it could have been great”.

In the debrief meetings our church has after events and services, we always ask people to weigh in on what went well (the good), what could have gone better (the bad), and what was a potential train wreck (the ugly).  I’ve discovered that most ministry folks are good at talking about the good, and can even muster up the courage to acknowledge the truly ugly, but they seem to be pretty timid about bringing up the bad and have an even harder time communicating why the good could have been great.

Why is that? I think a big reason is our bent towards encouragement in the church. We want to build others up, not tear them down—and that’s good! But our understanding of the word encouragement is flawed.  Encouragement literally means to put courage into someone, and encouragement is only needed when there is a reason to be courageous.

It takes courage to recognize your weaknesses. It takes courage to see where things fell apart. And it takes courage to admit that you missed the mark. Then it takes courage to stand back up and try again!

Who is going to help you find that courage? Who is there to say, “this is not going well for you, but I believe in you, and think that by digging deep and making a few adjustments, this thing can turn around”?

If you don’t have a friend who will tell you the truth in love, start looking for one. He or she will make you a better, more effective person. And when you find that person, really listen, without defending yourself, and figure out where change is necessary. Then thank them for the honesty.

If you are a leader, one of your primary responsibilities is to be that person in other people’s lives. It may not feel good to correct or challenge people, but the alternative is to let them stagnate and never become all they are called and gifted to be.

Remember: Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses. (Proverbs 27:6)

Most churches I know have a great volunteer challenge. It takes a high percentage of volunteer workers in order for everyone to be served well within a given structure. But, season-by-season, those workers are hard to come by, and sometimes even harder to keep.

Most mature believers will step up to the plate and fill a slot that needs to be filled—for a while. But when push comes to shove, they’ll look for a gracious way out. I’ve even known people who leave the church altogether because they served too long in a role they had no passion for, and didn’t know how to say they were done—so they simply left.

John Fehlen is a friend of mine who pastors the effective and exploding West Salem Foursquare Church. Earlier today he tweeted the following question: “Awesome 3000: a study in volunteerism. How come churches can’t find volunteers for children’s ministry but a race attracts hundreds?”

The Awesome 3000 is a huge annual run in his town of Salem Oregon. Hundreds of adults come out to volunteer and thousands to celebrate as over 3,000 kids participate in this non-profit fundraising event for local schools.

Anyways, I couldn’t stop thinking about John’s question today. But my mind wandered from the kids ministry volunteer question to why non-profit runs that take place all over the country attract so many participants in the first place, and how anyone who works with volunteers can learn from this:

A Calling: Let’s call it passion—something that really floats your boat. Some people just like to run. Give them any opportunity to do so and they will sign up. But many didn’t figure that out until a friend invited them into the activity. You usually need to be introduced to something to catch the ‘bug’ and find the passion. Most volunteers don’t just ‘find’ their calling, they have to be introduced and invited into it.

A Community: Running solo is for the few, the proud, the…(fill in the blank).  What people really love is carbo-loading before the race; running with others; knowing there are people cheering them on; looking forward to the after party—that is what attracts even non-runners to this thing. It’s also interesting that most long runs have ‘mini-versions’ of the race too so even more folks can be included into the community—and for every runner there are usually multiple people providing logistical support, encouragement, and participating in the community in other ways. Volunteers, too, can’t operate in a vacuum, but are seeking a real community to join.

A Cause: In many of these runs there is more than just running going on. Whether it is raising money or raising awareness, there is usually some focus for which the race exists. Another example: I’m never going to buy a candy bar from someone simply selling sweets door-to-door, but when it is tied to a cause that I understand and believe in, I’m at least tempted to do so (even if I’m on a diet). What is the clear cause our volunteers know they are joining?

A Competition: The thrill of victory; the agony of defeat—It may sound unspiritual, but I’m convinced that if we could clearly articulate what we are fighting for, people with a competitive spirit would have an inner drive to step up to the plate to help bring the win.

A Completion: Even in a Triathlon, there needs to be a finish line. I’m not talking about having a defined season of service (an end date to your volunteering), but about understanding the definition of completion in your ministry. Andy Stanley says that every ministry needs to establish what a win looks like, because people need to be able to determine whether they are winning or how to adjust if they are loosing.

A Celebration: At the end of a race there is usually a massive celebration. It’s the afterglow that makes it all worth while; the stories of how you felt when you hit the wall, the play-by-play of the little and big details that made running satisfying; the hours on the couch with your friends while your body recoups. This celebration is the culmination of all of the other elements combined. Volunteers want to be able to regularly celebrate with one another for the important and impacting things they are accomplishing together.

For a first hand account of the kind of experience I’m talking about (that, frankly, I can’t provide) you might want to read this ‘running’ post from a guy I met in Wisconsin a few weeks ago.

But lets get back to John’s original question: Why will hundreds of volunteers show up to help with a kids race but not sign up to help in kids ministry? It’s not just about their personal calling, community, cause, competition, or completion (though I think it is part of it), but it’s about helping the kids discover these things, too. When you volunteer for an epic event that engages kid’s imaginations and impacts the way they see the world, you know it was worth it.

Does our children’s ministry engage the passion of both the adults and the kids, or is it mostly about asking adults to fill necessary slots and about providing obligatory care and teaching for kids in the church without fully contending for that which is epic and passionate and impacting and memorable? I think the answer to this could make a big difference with our volunteer situation.