Recovering Pentecostal

Archive for October, 2009

Pain is inevitable… but it doesn’t have to be permanent. This book walks the reader through seven universal struggles that cause pain: Injustice, Rejection, Loneliness, Loss, Discipline, Failure, and Death. The authors share stories from their own lives, as well as other examples of individuals who have been through difficult and painful situations. For each universal struggle, the authors define the problem, spend some time talking about things in our lives that can contribute to it, and then offer practical advice and solutions to those who find themselves wrestling with those issues.

You won’t find anything shockingly new or different in these pages, but you will find solid advice built on biblical principles and presented in a well organized and easily digestible format. If you’re not dealing with one of these “universal struggles” right now… you will face them eventually. Even though this book is “self-help,” reading it can also help you understand the pain of those around you – and perhaps even help you help them.

This book was especially timely for me. Sometimes we all just need to be reminded to look for God’s purposes regardless of our struggles.

It’s easy to worship when you’re celebrating a victory. Praise almost comes naturally when things are going well.

But after you’ve been dealt a blow or experienced a failure — it’s so much harder.

Last week, Pastor Nathan preached about worship. One of the definitions for worship was “honoring someone of greater importance.” Another was “showing submission.” He encouraged us to honor and submit to God by giving EVERYTHING to Him… even our failures. Even the things that didn’t go well. At first, that sounded a little weird to me — don’t we want to give only our very best? What did it really mean to give our failures to Him? How could that also be an act of worship?

I had no idea how quickly I’d get a chance to put that into practice. By the middle of the week, I was slammed hard by three things at once: things that were all failures in some way. They made me question my intelligence, my judgment… and even my worth. One of these things resulted in some data being lost — and that hurt not only me, but some folks I really care about — including my pastors. I felt absolutely horrible about it. I was haunted by an endless string of “what ifs,” wishing I could change things. I felt like I was in a deep pit… and wouldn’t have minded much if someone just wanted to bury me there.

When you’re agonizing over your worthlessness, worship isn’t exactly the first thing on your mind.

When I told my pastor what was happening, he could have chosen to focus on the inconvenience that this caused… but he didn’t. Instead, he used that moment when I was at a real low point to remind me that my worth in his eyes and God’s eyes doesn’t depend on my performance.

I was still in a bad spot — I still had a lot of work ahead of me — but that one statement changed the atmosphere in my little personal pit. Before that, I felt mostly guilt and shame and wanted to hide. After… I was both humbled and honored that I could still be valued even when things didn’t turn out so well.

How can you help but respond in worship to such an awesome realization?

I gave those failures to God. That doesn’t mean that I’m not still working on fixing them, but it does mean that I’m leaning on Him for help rather than hiding from Him until I can sort it all out on my own. For me right now, that’s raw worship — worship stained with tears and dirt and blood — a real “just-as-I-am” surrendering, before I even attempt to make myself presentable. An acknowledgment of His superior worth and acceptance of the nearly incredible fact that this God of infinite worthiness and power sees me exactly how I am… and still sees value in me.

The message this morning at Christian Challenge was all about worship. It was really good… and it is making me re-think a couple of things.

I came out of a manipulative church where people were judged by externals. Worship & altar ministry were super-emotional, super-hyped-up experiences. It wasn’t unusual for the leaders to ‘whip things up’ and give directions during the worship time. (For example, when they say stuff like “Everyone raise your hands,” “Let me hear you shout,” or “Get out into the aisles and dance.”) In a manipulative church, if you didn’t follow the directions, look happy enough, shout loud enough, jump high enough, etc, you were in rebellion or (at least) on a lower level spiritually than those who did. So now, even when the direction given isn’t nearly as extreme and the environment isn’t nearly as judgmental, there’s a part of me that gets very defensive / suspicious whenever any directions like that are given. I just cringe.

But I’m not in a place like that now. I trust my pastor, and I know that he wouldn’t try to manipulate our emotions. Yet I have to admit that this morning when he taught about worship, I was still a little uncomfortable when he told the congregation to lift our hands. I understood that he was giving more of a gentle suggestion than a judgmental direction (he even said, “if you’re comfortable, lift your hands…”), but it still felt a little awkward to me at first. I hesitated, but I did lift my hands — and even tho I was “following directions,” it was also an appropriate response in that situation (singing about surrender) and it wound up being a positive thing. When I began to participate physically (by lifting my hands), it helped me focus on what I was doing and why… and the worship was actually more real to me.

So why was this morning “real” while many past experiences seemed so plastic and fake?

First… I think the teaching helped. Everyone comes to church with their own concept of what “good worship” should look like. Those ideas are colored by past experience and style preferences… things that usually have nothing at all to do with the true definition of worship. Clearing out all that clutter helps a lot. To be perfectly honest, the style of worship at my church is not my first preference… and sometimes I have used that as an excuse to be more of an observer than a participant. The message this morning challenged that mindset.

Second… I truly understood that while I was being challenged to do some specific things, there would be no penalty for NOT doing them. If I had just stood there and NOT raised my hands, NOT clapped – even if I didn’t sing a single note – there would be no disapproving glances or warnings that I needed to shape up. It is much easier be genuine when you know you’re not being judged… and worship should never be about putting on a show for someone else’s benefit. It’s about you & God.

Third… there is a difference between giving advice and making demands. Because I’ve had bad experiences in the past, I tend to see all worship-related direction as a demand… but now I’m learning to see it more like advice or encouragement. And I say “learning” because I know that I still have a long way to go

And there’s still plenty more for me to chew on from this morning There might be another blog post coming…

Ralph de la Vega is no stranger to obstacles. This is a true American success story: born in Cuba, coming to America alone at a young age with nothing but the clothes on his back, working hard, going to college, and ultimately earning his place as a top level executive at AT&T. The author shares lessons from his life and offers plenty of advice for those who aspire to write their own success stories.

While the author’s life is a fascinating tale of overcoming obstacles… I found the author’s style at times to be somewhat of an obstacle to reading the book. When he shared personal stories about his childhood or business challenges, I was glued to the pages. I often wished he had shared more about those experiences. Unfortunately, much of the book was explaining and re-explaining the author’s “Takeaway Messages,” which often overlapped from chapter to chapter. (A couple of times, I found myself wondering if I had accidentally turned back and started re-reading a previous chapter.) That doesn’t detract from the value of the lessons; but de la Vega would have done better to heed his own advice: “A well-honed, effective message makes its point without superfluous clutter.” (p 141)

Yet, there is enough in this book to make it well worth the read. His chapter on sacrifice, while not nearly as unique has he imagines it to be, was refreshing and insightful. His thoughts on inclusion (diversity) were also excellent. There’s nothing “new” in this book — but de la Vega’s perspective is unique and deserves to be heard.

What does God have to do with brewing beer?

This book explores the history of Guinness and lets us peer into the lives of those who turned the dark brew into an internationally recognized brand. Along the way we meet real people with genuine faith and a deep commitment not only to improve the quality of their product, but to improve their employees’ quality of life.

Guinness was far ahead of its time in providing education and health benefits to its workers. They also had a tremendous impact outside of the brewery through social activism and missionary work.

This book caught my attention because God and Guinness struck me as an odd couple. The title might even seem sacrilegious to some. Yet Mansfield reminds us that only a century ago, Christian attitudes towards alcohol (beer in particular) were very different.

If you believe that beer always was and always will be indisputably evil, you may not like this book – but you should read it anyway! Beyond the brewery, this book tells the stories of Christians who lived out their faith in the workplace. They stood up for unpopular social causes. They gave back to their communities. They took care of their workers. And they did it all despite famines and wars, economic downturns and political upheavals. Those are lessons we could all stand to learn.