Monday, May 23, 2016

The Numbers Game

A while back, I was visiting the offices of another mission. As we were being shown around, a guy was introduced to us and was asked to share what he's involved in. He immediately launched into "the sale."

I know what it looks like because I've seen it a hundred times from organizations around the world. I know "the sale" because I've pitched it as many times. It usually goes something like this...

"We're working in more than 100 countries, working with more than 500 indigenous partners in over 8,000 languages. We've planted 1,000 (take your pick... schools, churches, radio stations, wells) all over the developing world."

Change the length, numbers or some of the language, but that's the gist. This is what we've accomplished. This is why we're a valuable asset to the Kingdom. And, ultimately, this is why you should give.

We are addicted to numerical growth.

It's no different in the church. Pastors are constantly being judged and judging each other by numerical growth and giving.

I get it. It's steeped in our culture. We have to justify ourselves to get a job, a raise or a promotion. We have to prove our value.  And how can you possibly measure the success of a mission except by who has been reached or what's been built?

Here's my struggle, when I start taking a count it is almost always about me. How much have I done? How do I measure up to everyone else? What have I accomplished?

Of all his sins, David taking a census may have been his most egregious. And the people of his kingdom paid dearly for it. Why? Because he wanted to know how great he was. And his accomplishments didn't belong to him. They were a gift from God.

When we start throwing out numbers, we run dangerously close to doing the same thing. Yes measuring effectiveness is healthy, good and necessary. And, before we tell our story, we should always ask ourselves, "Who am I trying to glorify?"

Friday, May 20, 2016

We Walk in Winter

My friend Gary walked in my office the other day and said, "I hate Colorado in May." I understood exactly where he was coming from. There are a lot of good things about living in Colorado Springs. There's tons of sunshine, trails to walk and bike, parks, Garden of the God's, Pikes Peak. It is just a beautiful place.




But there's something about May. May is when my basement flooded. Warm Spring days morph into cold winter nights with wicked wind and wet snow. Tulips come up in April then May snows will bury them.



In May we see the hope of Summer, but it remains illusive, distant. Winter continues to mock us.

We walk in a world of Winter. It's a place with the cruelty of ISIS. It's where 1 in 5 girls are sexually assaulted before 18. It's where slavery is on the rise. It's where cancer can rob a family of a young mother or Alzheimer's can take the wisdom of a beautiful mind.

It is a hard and wicked place.

As a follower of Christ, it's like Colorado in May. Because I have tasted Spring. I've experienced unconditional love, grace and forgiveness. I've felt the warmth of the Gospel. I've seen my depravity yet experienced acceptance.

I know Summer is coming. It's coming for all of us. Until then, I'll just try to brush the snow off the tulips.