"To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." - William Shakespeare
If you're gonna be a church planter, you've just flat gotta know yourself: your personality, your emotional needs, your strengths and weaknesses, and where you fit into the world - and just as important: where you don't.
In 1994, I worked for a slowly imploding family-led NGO and, unfortunately for me, I was not part of the family. We clashed. In an effort to try to "fix" me, our patriarch took the whole staff for a pysch review to have our personalities looked at and to learn why we didn't mesh. (My favorite part of the review was when my boss shouted about me, "He's not a team player!" The Pshrink pulled out the paperwork and said, "Actually, he's the only who is a team player.") As a part of that review, I received hundreds of pages of objective observations/information about myself. As I read it, there was no doubt whatsoever in my mind that it was accurate. It was as if someone had looked into a hidden box in the secret closet within my heart of hearts - a place I didn't even want to acknowledge existed. I saw on paper, for the first time ever, my quirks, my actual - not "perceived" - strengths, my real weaknesses, and the challenges of my personality.
Hearing a Pshrink describe me was painful, but it was a good painful - like relocating a dislocated shoulder or having the stabbing pain of a broken tooth end when it's pulled. It was information I could use. It was a resource that gave me the chance to change and to do something about me, and it gave me a way to measure the change.
I still read that paperwork a couple times year - and it's been 17+ years ago since I was a part of that, but it reminds me of my nature and keeps me moving forward.
I've become content knowing I best serve in a blue collar, average Joe setting. I simply love and understand common people who are just trying to get by day to day and who struggle with living out the Christian life in a grimy, gritty, not-so-friendly world. And I can help them, not because I'm better, but because I'm only a little further down the trail in my own spiritual journey.
The bottom line is this: Because I knew those things about me, I could do something about me. And I did.
If you're interested in church planting, all I can say is that if you think you can skip or don't need the assessment process, you probably think you're the exception to many other things, too, and the universe levies a heavy tax against that level of arrogance and ignorance.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #10: Identity and reputation are not the same thing.
I started learning this concept back in late 1994 just before I moved to pastor my first church in Iowa. I first saw it when I was checking up on that congregation during my interview process with them. (I'll guarantee I did more research into them than they did into me.) I called four unrelated congregations in the area, explained who I was, and asked those churches what they knew about the congregation I was interviewing. Three knew nothing except where it was once I gave the address, and the remaining one didn’t even remember seeing a church at that location. One of the three who remembered it only when I gave the address pastored in a church building about 100 yards south of the one in question – on the same street!
I worked hard at that congregation to make sure it had an identity within the community, but due to their reputation (in some cases a lack of one) I was starting with their deficit. The experience helped me realize how important this concept is.
I put a lot of effort into identity management when Adventure began 12+ years ago. To this day, when people see our logo or even my Jeep, they know who we are, but I've learned about something even better than identity.
I was driving to a meeting at my office one day when I saw a woman parked between the lanes on the interstate (yes, we have interstates in Iowa) with a flat. I made eye contact with her but kept going because I didn’t have time and was sure she’d call someone and be fine. As I pulled off my exit, I felt a pang of guilt and headed back to help her.
I pulled up behind her, got out, asked her to stay in her car, and if she could pop the trunk from the inside. She did, I replaced her flat with her spare, and went up to tell her good bye and to have someone check that spare for her. Her cheeks were wet with tears when I went up to the window. She told me something that shook me: “I saw your Jeep go by, and I saw you see me. I’ve never been to your church, but I’ve heard things, and I knew you’d be back to help me. Thank you.”
Your identity will get you recognized within a community, but your reputation will determine how you are viewed and whether or not you're accepted. Put your emphasis on developing your reputation, not your logo. Think in terms of the reputation and the identity will take care of itself.
I worked hard at that congregation to make sure it had an identity within the community, but due to their reputation (in some cases a lack of one) I was starting with their deficit. The experience helped me realize how important this concept is.
I put a lot of effort into identity management when Adventure began 12+ years ago. To this day, when people see our logo or even my Jeep, they know who we are, but I've learned about something even better than identity.
I was driving to a meeting at my office one day when I saw a woman parked between the lanes on the interstate (yes, we have interstates in Iowa) with a flat. I made eye contact with her but kept going because I didn’t have time and was sure she’d call someone and be fine. As I pulled off my exit, I felt a pang of guilt and headed back to help her.
I pulled up behind her, got out, asked her to stay in her car, and if she could pop the trunk from the inside. She did, I replaced her flat with her spare, and went up to tell her good bye and to have someone check that spare for her. Her cheeks were wet with tears when I went up to the window. She told me something that shook me: “I saw your Jeep go by, and I saw you see me. I’ve never been to your church, but I’ve heard things, and I knew you’d be back to help me. Thank you.”
Your identity will get you recognized within a community, but your reputation will determine how you are viewed and whether or not you're accepted. Put your emphasis on developing your reputation, not your logo. Think in terms of the reputation and the identity will take care of itself.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #9: People attend where they prefer, not where they are impressed.
I like cool stuff. I've always liked the bleeding edge of creativity. I like being unique. I like doing things that make other people just go "huh?"
I was pushing Saturday evening service as an outreach more than 20 years ago, and the congregation I proposed it to (the one I was pastoring at the time) nearly lynched me. One guy - an elder and a local school district administrator - actually asked me if I really thought the apostles (or any early Christians) would have ever gone to church on Saturday night. So much for the state of public education. :) That's how it's always been for me - a square peg in a round hole.
When I came to Davenport to plant, I was given more freedom than most pastor-types can even imagine in their wildest dreams...and with that came the freedom to be so novel and to be so *"purple" that people would flinch. I still like being that way, but I've learned that being novel and getting people to look at what you're doing and listen to what you saying isn't the same thing as reaching people. It's also not really that good of a goal.
A lot of people knew who we were, but they didn't love us. Being purple got us known, but I still wanted people to prefer us...I wanted them to want to be here with us. We had people, no doubt, but it wasn't until things got boring to me and people still kept on coming that I started to get it.
We were so broke at the time that we kinda gave up on being so unique and just tried to pay the bills. Then when I'd ask new people how they heard about us, it wasn't the direct mail, the (serious waste of money on) TV ads, or even our special events. The truth was that out best outreach was the changed lives they saw in their friends - and it was those changed lives that gave the personal invitation from their friends actual credibility. It was actually accomplishing our goal that made us purple.
That realization caused me to focus more on meeting basic personal needs via our teaching from God's Word and other ministries than worry about being unique. I still like uniqueness (that's part of how God has gifted me), but it's actually about people, about meeting their needs, about seeing their lives changed for the better, and about keeping the focus on those things instead. And now, there's been a different by-product: people not only love our uniqueness, they contribute to it! But better yet, they love us.
And they continue to choose us over many other things they could be doing or places they could be going!
-----
*Godin, Seth (2009). The Purple Cow: Transform Your Business by Being Remarkable. NY: Portfolio. ISBN-10: 1591843170 / ISBN-13: 978-1591843177
I was pushing Saturday evening service as an outreach more than 20 years ago, and the congregation I proposed it to (the one I was pastoring at the time) nearly lynched me. One guy - an elder and a local school district administrator - actually asked me if I really thought the apostles (or any early Christians) would have ever gone to church on Saturday night. So much for the state of public education. :) That's how it's always been for me - a square peg in a round hole.
When I came to Davenport to plant, I was given more freedom than most pastor-types can even imagine in their wildest dreams...and with that came the freedom to be so novel and to be so *"purple" that people would flinch. I still like being that way, but I've learned that being novel and getting people to look at what you're doing and listen to what you saying isn't the same thing as reaching people. It's also not really that good of a goal.
A lot of people knew who we were, but they didn't love us. Being purple got us known, but I still wanted people to prefer us...I wanted them to want to be here with us. We had people, no doubt, but it wasn't until things got boring to me and people still kept on coming that I started to get it.
We were so broke at the time that we kinda gave up on being so unique and just tried to pay the bills. Then when I'd ask new people how they heard about us, it wasn't the direct mail, the (serious waste of money on) TV ads, or even our special events. The truth was that out best outreach was the changed lives they saw in their friends - and it was those changed lives that gave the personal invitation from their friends actual credibility. It was actually accomplishing our goal that made us purple.
That realization caused me to focus more on meeting basic personal needs via our teaching from God's Word and other ministries than worry about being unique. I still like uniqueness (that's part of how God has gifted me), but it's actually about people, about meeting their needs, about seeing their lives changed for the better, and about keeping the focus on those things instead. And now, there's been a different by-product: people not only love our uniqueness, they contribute to it! But better yet, they love us.
And they continue to choose us over many other things they could be doing or places they could be going!
-----
*Godin, Seth (2009). The Purple Cow: Transform Your Business by Being Remarkable. NY: Portfolio. ISBN-10: 1591843170 / ISBN-13: 978-1591843177
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #8: From perfectionist to friend.
I'm a perfectionist. When I was in high school, I often spent 30 minutes just on my hair! I think I was the paleontological ancestor of the metro-sexual. Ha! (I'm sure I would hate that kid today if he were still around!)
I think my perfectionism hurt me in my early ministry days. No. Actually I know it did. I didn't call it "perfectionism." I called it "excellence" because that made it God-honoring and sounded professional, but it was still perfectionism - something that masks the fear of not being accepted by others. Doing things “polished and shiny” was my goal. Then I had an epiphany in a really strange location.
It was a restaurant called "Meers" outside of Lawton, OK. It’s a dirty, out-of-the-way, greasy, dilapidated building (last time I was there it was insulated by being wrapping in plastic - the WHOLE building). I went there twice with a friend. The first time, the waitress addressed him by his first name. The second time, she addressed me by mine. It was a strangely welcoming event. I felt as if I were with friends.
I barely remembered her, but she taught me a lesson: People skipped Red Lobster and the Beefeater with their servers in starched and pressed uniforms and drove 25 miles into nowhere to eat in a plastic lined shack because the server knew their name. Their decision was made by personality preference - over quality, by choosing welcomed over catered to. They were choosing where they were comfortable over what made a better social impression. They simply wanted to like where they were.
In reality, the food was just "okay" at Meers, but it was the atmosphere of friendship and the preference people had for that atmosphere that caused the half-hour drive and the sale. Whoa.
Too many of us want the church experience to be perfect rather than comfortable. You can’t have both.
So I've worked hard to put my perfectionism to rest and instead worked to create a place that people would choose to enjoy. Things are still done well - competently, but I'm not so anal about perfection. And guests are greeted on their first visit with the words, “Welcome home.” Some smile. Some cry. Some don’t get it until later. But it works.
I think my perfectionism hurt me in my early ministry days. No. Actually I know it did. I didn't call it "perfectionism." I called it "excellence" because that made it God-honoring and sounded professional, but it was still perfectionism - something that masks the fear of not being accepted by others. Doing things “polished and shiny” was my goal. Then I had an epiphany in a really strange location.
It was a restaurant called "Meers" outside of Lawton, OK. It’s a dirty, out-of-the-way, greasy, dilapidated building (last time I was there it was insulated by being wrapping in plastic - the WHOLE building). I went there twice with a friend. The first time, the waitress addressed him by his first name. The second time, she addressed me by mine. It was a strangely welcoming event. I felt as if I were with friends.
I barely remembered her, but she taught me a lesson: People skipped Red Lobster and the Beefeater with their servers in starched and pressed uniforms and drove 25 miles into nowhere to eat in a plastic lined shack because the server knew their name. Their decision was made by personality preference - over quality, by choosing welcomed over catered to. They were choosing where they were comfortable over what made a better social impression. They simply wanted to like where they were.
In reality, the food was just "okay" at Meers, but it was the atmosphere of friendship and the preference people had for that atmosphere that caused the half-hour drive and the sale. Whoa.
Too many of us want the church experience to be perfect rather than comfortable. You can’t have both.
So I've worked hard to put my perfectionism to rest and instead worked to create a place that people would choose to enjoy. Things are still done well - competently, but I'm not so anal about perfection. And guests are greeted on their first visit with the words, “Welcome home.” Some smile. Some cry. Some don’t get it until later. But it works.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #7: From my head to my heart.
This post will be twice as long as usual because of the scope of the struggle and who it affects.
I used to be a legalist. It comes from my perfectionist personality and my spiritual heritage of being from a group who loved their reputation as “People of the Book”. When you're a legalist, you learn to esteem knowledge with great sincerity and enthusiasm. However, legalists tend to believe the more they know the stronger they are in their faith. They subtly trust in head-knowledge rather than heart-faith (not necessarily mutually exclusive, but not the same thing). My faith was in what I knew, not what I trusted in. (Btw, a legalist will readily object to what I am saying and accuse me of disrespecting God’s Word. If you’re doing that right now, the alarm sirens going off in your head are about YOU, not about me.)
Two things helped my knowledge become actual faith by making the leap from my head to my heart.
The first came when I met a severely mentally handicapped young man. I don't even remember his name or the circumstance of our meeting. I just remember that he talked about how much he loved God, how'd he given his life to him, and how he loved living every day for him. That really bugged the snot out of me. That kid had something I had not yet experienced, and that was beyond my ability to understand. This kid could barely speak, let alone understand the Christian snob languages of Greek and Hebrew. In fact, he couldn't read at all! All he could do was listen to what he was taught and believe it.
It forced me to be honest with myself: I didn't love God so much as I knew He was Sovereign and gonna get His way anyhow, so I didn't have a lot of choices but to do what He said. Doing the right things were my defense, not actually loving Him. I figured a lot of people "loved" Him and yet weren't gonna be in Heaven.
The second came when I was studying a rabbinical commentary (like any good MacArthurite legalist – or disciple of Rob Bell! Ha!) and read the footnotes on the story of Abraham and Isaac. I'd always thought that God had flatly ordered Abraham and that he had no choice but to offer Isaac. After all, God was sovereign. Abraham had to obey or he was toast. "Take your son..." Yeah, let him be the toast instead.
Then I learned about a little participle in the Hebrew: na'. When na' is added to the imperative command in the Hebrew, it "softens the command to an entreaty" (The JPS Torah Commentary on Genesis, 1989, page 151). It makes it a request between friends. "Abraham had absolute freedom of choice. Should he refuse, he would not incur any guilt" (ibid). So it hit me that a hero of the faith actually demonstrated trust because of the relationship rather than the fear of punishment. Wow. And had Abraham chosen not to offer the boy, God would not have counted it against him as guilt.
I heard a guy say once that most people will miss Heaven by 18 inches - the distance from the brain to the heart - but it was only then that I understood it. Strange that a character from the OT would introduce a student of the NT to grace.
I'm not discounting "fearing" God. One of my favorite scenes in the movie Evan Almighty is when God (Morgan Freeman) shows up in the car Evan's in and Evan (Jim Carrey) jerks and screams in terror. God laughs and says, "It's okay, son, that's the beginning of wisdom”. :)
The thing is, under the New Testament, God calls us "friend." Who fears a friend? Remember this verse?
John 15:15 - "No longer do I call you slaves, for the slave does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you."
Friend. God is still sovereign, but I actually like Him - no, make that LOVE Him - and while I still respect God extremely and profoundly, I don't live and act out of fear of Him. Maybe that's what the Bible means when it says:
1 John 4:18 - "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love."
I think I really like being a Christ-follower. And I love that I don't hafta be fearful to be one, nor do I hafta fear God or what He wants from me. In fact, it's not scary at all anymore.
I used to be a legalist. It comes from my perfectionist personality and my spiritual heritage of being from a group who loved their reputation as “People of the Book”. When you're a legalist, you learn to esteem knowledge with great sincerity and enthusiasm. However, legalists tend to believe the more they know the stronger they are in their faith. They subtly trust in head-knowledge rather than heart-faith (not necessarily mutually exclusive, but not the same thing). My faith was in what I knew, not what I trusted in. (Btw, a legalist will readily object to what I am saying and accuse me of disrespecting God’s Word. If you’re doing that right now, the alarm sirens going off in your head are about YOU, not about me.)
Two things helped my knowledge become actual faith by making the leap from my head to my heart.
The first came when I met a severely mentally handicapped young man. I don't even remember his name or the circumstance of our meeting. I just remember that he talked about how much he loved God, how'd he given his life to him, and how he loved living every day for him. That really bugged the snot out of me. That kid had something I had not yet experienced, and that was beyond my ability to understand. This kid could barely speak, let alone understand the Christian snob languages of Greek and Hebrew. In fact, he couldn't read at all! All he could do was listen to what he was taught and believe it.
It forced me to be honest with myself: I didn't love God so much as I knew He was Sovereign and gonna get His way anyhow, so I didn't have a lot of choices but to do what He said. Doing the right things were my defense, not actually loving Him. I figured a lot of people "loved" Him and yet weren't gonna be in Heaven.
The second came when I was studying a rabbinical commentary (like any good MacArthurite legalist – or disciple of Rob Bell! Ha!) and read the footnotes on the story of Abraham and Isaac. I'd always thought that God had flatly ordered Abraham and that he had no choice but to offer Isaac. After all, God was sovereign. Abraham had to obey or he was toast. "Take your son..." Yeah, let him be the toast instead.
Then I learned about a little participle in the Hebrew: na'. When na' is added to the imperative command in the Hebrew, it "softens the command to an entreaty" (The JPS Torah Commentary on Genesis, 1989, page 151). It makes it a request between friends. "Abraham had absolute freedom of choice. Should he refuse, he would not incur any guilt" (ibid). So it hit me that a hero of the faith actually demonstrated trust because of the relationship rather than the fear of punishment. Wow. And had Abraham chosen not to offer the boy, God would not have counted it against him as guilt.
I heard a guy say once that most people will miss Heaven by 18 inches - the distance from the brain to the heart - but it was only then that I understood it. Strange that a character from the OT would introduce a student of the NT to grace.
I'm not discounting "fearing" God. One of my favorite scenes in the movie Evan Almighty is when God (Morgan Freeman) shows up in the car Evan's in and Evan (Jim Carrey) jerks and screams in terror. God laughs and says, "It's okay, son, that's the beginning of wisdom”. :)
The thing is, under the New Testament, God calls us "friend." Who fears a friend? Remember this verse?
John 15:15 - "No longer do I call you slaves, for the slave does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you."
Friend. God is still sovereign, but I actually like Him - no, make that LOVE Him - and while I still respect God extremely and profoundly, I don't live and act out of fear of Him. Maybe that's what the Bible means when it says:
1 John 4:18 - "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love."
I think I really like being a Christ-follower. And I love that I don't hafta be fearful to be one, nor do I hafta fear God or what He wants from me. In fact, it's not scary at all anymore.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #6: From self-focused to Kingdom-focused.
I've worked in a string of several very shallow, very selfish congregations. That sounds harsh, but it's true. It's also true that each of those shallow, selfish congregations had a shallow, selfish pastor at the time I was there. So, honestly, we both got what we deserved. :)
We live in a me-oriented society - so people (including Christians) are trained to be selfish from their first breath. That carries over into the church-at-large, too. Many Christians believe that the Church exists to serve and cater to them, but not to actually grow them or challenge them.
Rather than baptize people when they made their confession of faith, I saved up those baptisms until Sunday when we could do them in front of the church and people could say, "Man, that pastor's sure doing a good job getting those people baptized." You know, it was job security - as I've said before, I didn't see those people so much as additions to the Kingdom as I saw them as job security, the proverbial loaf of bread.
I had to move from fulfilling a perverted personal need (the need to be liked and affirmed) to instilling a kingdom motivation inside me: the desire to be like Jesus. Unfortunately, my unhealthy need for approval was burying the healthy choice I needed to make. I was trapped in a life-paradigm I couldn't get out of.
A pastor friend I admired finally confronted me: "I don't know what to do with you. You're so concerned about what people think. You're so locked into doing rather than being. You wanna do what the apostles did, but you don't wanna be what the apostles were. Ministry wasn't a career for them. It was a lifestyle. It had nothing to do with a paycheck. They would have done it - and did - for free while doing other things. Until you come to that point, you're never gonna get it."
Those were some of the most painful words ever spoken to me, and it took me several more years of professional abuse and quite a few hours with a Christian counselor before I could start to get it. Honestly, I know that I still don't get it, not at the level I should, but at least I've headed in that direction and away from my own phobias and insecurities. That feels good.
We live in a me-oriented society - so people (including Christians) are trained to be selfish from their first breath. That carries over into the church-at-large, too. Many Christians believe that the Church exists to serve and cater to them, but not to actually grow them or challenge them.
Rather than baptize people when they made their confession of faith, I saved up those baptisms until Sunday when we could do them in front of the church and people could say, "Man, that pastor's sure doing a good job getting those people baptized." You know, it was job security - as I've said before, I didn't see those people so much as additions to the Kingdom as I saw them as job security, the proverbial loaf of bread.
I had to move from fulfilling a perverted personal need (the need to be liked and affirmed) to instilling a kingdom motivation inside me: the desire to be like Jesus. Unfortunately, my unhealthy need for approval was burying the healthy choice I needed to make. I was trapped in a life-paradigm I couldn't get out of.
A pastor friend I admired finally confronted me: "I don't know what to do with you. You're so concerned about what people think. You're so locked into doing rather than being. You wanna do what the apostles did, but you don't wanna be what the apostles were. Ministry wasn't a career for them. It was a lifestyle. It had nothing to do with a paycheck. They would have done it - and did - for free while doing other things. Until you come to that point, you're never gonna get it."
Those were some of the most painful words ever spoken to me, and it took me several more years of professional abuse and quite a few hours with a Christian counselor before I could start to get it. Honestly, I know that I still don't get it, not at the level I should, but at least I've headed in that direction and away from my own phobias and insecurities. That feels good.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #5: They're "people," stupid, not “prospects”.
Here's a dirty little secret most pastors won't share: They keep "prospect" lists - like a potential sales list...a sort of "people I need to get to buy into us" list. I even know pastors who have quotas. For years I believed a statement made by a pastor I respected and wanted to be like: "A pastor who isn't leading two people a week to the Lord isn't worth his hire."
I used to keep Prospect Lists - two of them, in fact: One a short-term list, the other a long-term list. The short-term list had the names of the people I thought I could persuade to join the church within the next six months. Anyone longer than that was on the long-term list.
I realize now that at that point in my life, I had more in common with a hooker than a shepherd. After becoming healthy and returning to the ministry in 1995, I was struck by this verse:
"...for the prostitute reduces you to a loaf of bread (Proverbs 6:26)..."
In other words, the hooker looks at you and says to herself, "If I can entice him to join me for a few minutes, it'll be worth X-number of dollars to me, and with that, I can buy (whatever)." I looked at my prospect lists and knew in the past I'd said to myself, "If I can entice him to come to church, that'll please my eldership and that's job security and financial security for me..." Ouch.
I dropped that list.
I stopped seeing them as "things to be conquered for Christ" and started seeing them as friends at a different point on the same journey as me - friends who will listen to those they trust and love. My goal is now to be that loving, trusted friend who can tell them what was over the next horizon on their spiritual journey - and who could walk with them as they looked at the horizon.
And suddenly, my ministry began to grow. Go figure.
Btw, I don't lead two people to the Lord in a week EVER. The Holy Spirit does that. But I often have the privilege of being there when they "get it." Sometimes that's zero in a week. Other times, it's 15 or 20 people in a week.
It's amazing what happens when ego gets out of the way and God gets to be God on His terms rather than mine. :)
I used to keep Prospect Lists - two of them, in fact: One a short-term list, the other a long-term list. The short-term list had the names of the people I thought I could persuade to join the church within the next six months. Anyone longer than that was on the long-term list.
I realize now that at that point in my life, I had more in common with a hooker than a shepherd. After becoming healthy and returning to the ministry in 1995, I was struck by this verse:
"...for the prostitute reduces you to a loaf of bread (Proverbs 6:26)..."
In other words, the hooker looks at you and says to herself, "If I can entice him to join me for a few minutes, it'll be worth X-number of dollars to me, and with that, I can buy (whatever)." I looked at my prospect lists and knew in the past I'd said to myself, "If I can entice him to come to church, that'll please my eldership and that's job security and financial security for me..." Ouch.
I dropped that list.
I stopped seeing them as "things to be conquered for Christ" and started seeing them as friends at a different point on the same journey as me - friends who will listen to those they trust and love. My goal is now to be that loving, trusted friend who can tell them what was over the next horizon on their spiritual journey - and who could walk with them as they looked at the horizon.
And suddenly, my ministry began to grow. Go figure.
Btw, I don't lead two people to the Lord in a week EVER. The Holy Spirit does that. But I often have the privilege of being there when they "get it." Sometimes that's zero in a week. Other times, it's 15 or 20 people in a week.
It's amazing what happens when ego gets out of the way and God gets to be God on His terms rather than mine. :)
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #4: Jesus builds the church; I don't.
I used to flat old-school work my butt off and I prided myself on it. Yet my perfectionist side considered me a failure. I could not get my stupid churches to grow. I could blame a lot of different people and different things, and those would all be valid, but since I believe everything rises and falls on leadership, I can't hide behind those other things. I had to take responsibility for my part. I wasn't a leader. And I considered myself a failure - such a failure that I left pastoral ministry for a year and even messed up my body's ability to regulate itself and its moods, so I wasn't just a crash and burn. I was an epic crash and burn.
Then I went to a godly counselor in Columbus, IN, named John Brumbaugh, graciously paid for by our then-church home (a great congregation named New Hope Christian Church). John took me on a several days long cathartic journey that brought out my failings, my insecurities, my arrogance, and let me purge them for my own health.
One day he mentioned a verse where Jesus was talking to Peter about the foundation of the church, but it was the center section that hit me and rocked my life: "And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it (Matthew 16:18 NIV)." In all of my years of study and education, how in the world did I miss that? Jesus said He would build the church. In fact, He didn't ask me to do anything of the kind.
With that new perspective, I went back into ministry and for the first time in my life actually enjoyed it - and it was a fairly unhealthy, dysfunctional church! :) I had learned that my role wasn't to do God's construction work for Him, but to make sure that I didn't interfere - and that no one else did either.
That's why I have a pang of conscience when I use the term "church planter" in reference to myself. I'm not really a planter. God's the Planter. I'm just a gardener that works to keep the weeds out of His way as much as I can. I still work my butt off, but my focus is now His, not mine pretending to be His.
Then I went to a godly counselor in Columbus, IN, named John Brumbaugh, graciously paid for by our then-church home (a great congregation named New Hope Christian Church). John took me on a several days long cathartic journey that brought out my failings, my insecurities, my arrogance, and let me purge them for my own health.
One day he mentioned a verse where Jesus was talking to Peter about the foundation of the church, but it was the center section that hit me and rocked my life: "And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it (Matthew 16:18 NIV)." In all of my years of study and education, how in the world did I miss that? Jesus said He would build the church. In fact, He didn't ask me to do anything of the kind.
With that new perspective, I went back into ministry and for the first time in my life actually enjoyed it - and it was a fairly unhealthy, dysfunctional church! :) I had learned that my role wasn't to do God's construction work for Him, but to make sure that I didn't interfere - and that no one else did either.
That's why I have a pang of conscience when I use the term "church planter" in reference to myself. I'm not really a planter. God's the Planter. I'm just a gardener that works to keep the weeds out of His way as much as I can. I still work my butt off, but my focus is now His, not mine pretending to be His.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #3: Not everyone worships or learns like I do.
I am from an American home-grown church movement that officially began on the frontiers of the late 18th Century. From the beginning, we’ve often been called "The People of the Book (Bible)" because of our hard-core commitment to Scripture and it's authority. I'm proud of that heritage, and I wouldn't have our teaching do anything BUT rely on The Book.
But ultimately, history has borne out a problem with our approach: We have a lot of seriously book-smart people with lots of head knowledge, but not a fair amount of heart application. That makes for legalists who don't consider the spirit or the context of God's Word.
Back in the 1980's, Leadership Magazine carried an article that talked of how there are basically three kinds of people who attend church (I'm paraphrasing from memory now): Those who respond to auditory stimulation, those who respond to visual stimulation, and those who respond to content stimulation.
Auditory-focused: Those who respond to auditory stimulation don't place high value on what the building looks like or even so much what is taught. They are focused primarily on the sound value: Is the music good? Is the sound good? Are there distracting noises? Can I clearly hear what is going on or being said? Is it pleasant for my ears?
Visual-focused: Those who respond to visual stimulation don't place high value on what they hear or what is taught. They are focused primarily on the visual value: Is it clean? Is it respectfully maintained? Are the colors right? Can I see things being done well and competently? Is it pleasant for my eyes to observe?
Content-focused: Those who respond to the teaching content don't place high value on anything but the content. They will meet in dirty barns and put up with horrible music and sound just to have what their brain considers solid teaching.
It has to do with individual learning methods. God wired each of us differently from many others, yet we all fall into one or more of these three categories.
The challenge? I’m a content-oriented person, but we need to be more concerned about the whole person. Without compromising the content, the church-at-large still needs to be more intentional, more experiential, more engaging on all levels - not just the one learning style we like. Our priority should always be teaching the Word of God skillfully and accurately, but if we can engage the whole person in a multi-sensory experience where what they learn goes deeper into them, why wouldn't we be eager to do that?
But ultimately, history has borne out a problem with our approach: We have a lot of seriously book-smart people with lots of head knowledge, but not a fair amount of heart application. That makes for legalists who don't consider the spirit or the context of God's Word.
Back in the 1980's, Leadership Magazine carried an article that talked of how there are basically three kinds of people who attend church (I'm paraphrasing from memory now): Those who respond to auditory stimulation, those who respond to visual stimulation, and those who respond to content stimulation.
Auditory-focused: Those who respond to auditory stimulation don't place high value on what the building looks like or even so much what is taught. They are focused primarily on the sound value: Is the music good? Is the sound good? Are there distracting noises? Can I clearly hear what is going on or being said? Is it pleasant for my ears?
Visual-focused: Those who respond to visual stimulation don't place high value on what they hear or what is taught. They are focused primarily on the visual value: Is it clean? Is it respectfully maintained? Are the colors right? Can I see things being done well and competently? Is it pleasant for my eyes to observe?
Content-focused: Those who respond to the teaching content don't place high value on anything but the content. They will meet in dirty barns and put up with horrible music and sound just to have what their brain considers solid teaching.
It has to do with individual learning methods. God wired each of us differently from many others, yet we all fall into one or more of these three categories.
The challenge? I’m a content-oriented person, but we need to be more concerned about the whole person. Without compromising the content, the church-at-large still needs to be more intentional, more experiential, more engaging on all levels - not just the one learning style we like. Our priority should always be teaching the Word of God skillfully and accurately, but if we can engage the whole person in a multi-sensory experience where what they learn goes deeper into them, why wouldn't we be eager to do that?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #2: The "Cool" Factor.
Never underestimate the power (nor importance) of "cool", or at least “decent”.
My family lived in a big apartment complex while pastoring a very traditional congregation that had been hemorrhaging people for years. Leading by example, I worked to get our apartment friends to visit our congregation, but very few ever visited twice. They'd come to our apartment to seek spiritual answers or Bible study and they'd ask for prayer and pray for me, but our congregation was a one-shot event for them. Then I heard a shocker that froze my blood: People I’d shared Christ with were now attending church – elsewhere. It was a good congregation—good solid teaching, great ministries, rapid growth—but it wasn't ours. That hurt.
I eventually asked about it. God spoke through their words: "We like you and your teaching, but everything else is so unfriendly and boring. We found a church that's actually cool, and we like it. It speaks to us on a lot of levels." BAM.
That seems rather carnal if you're secretly shallow and more into religious appearance, but pretty deep if you really wanna reach people.
There are a lot of churches out there in any given town who all believe the same thing, who all teach biblical truth very well, who hope to expand the Kingdom, but why do people choose one congregation over the other? I think it's what I've now heard called "the Cool Factor."
For the church, the Cool Factor is about nurturing the kind of bond with people where they are secure enough to drop the old barriers and open themselves up to being taught God's Word in new, creative, relevant ways. It’s not about giving up theological distinctive, but about how they are presented. What the Cool Factor looks like will vary from congregation to congregation and community to community, but it's gonna be a presentation that consistently grabs the attention of a person and creates a dialogue between the church and the unchurched.
Remember: It’s not theology OR “cool” methodology. That’s a false dichotomy. It’s about the marriage of truth with relevant presentation. That’s cool.
My family lived in a big apartment complex while pastoring a very traditional congregation that had been hemorrhaging people for years. Leading by example, I worked to get our apartment friends to visit our congregation, but very few ever visited twice. They'd come to our apartment to seek spiritual answers or Bible study and they'd ask for prayer and pray for me, but our congregation was a one-shot event for them. Then I heard a shocker that froze my blood: People I’d shared Christ with were now attending church – elsewhere. It was a good congregation—good solid teaching, great ministries, rapid growth—but it wasn't ours. That hurt.
I eventually asked about it. God spoke through their words: "We like you and your teaching, but everything else is so unfriendly and boring. We found a church that's actually cool, and we like it. It speaks to us on a lot of levels." BAM.
That seems rather carnal if you're secretly shallow and more into religious appearance, but pretty deep if you really wanna reach people.
There are a lot of churches out there in any given town who all believe the same thing, who all teach biblical truth very well, who hope to expand the Kingdom, but why do people choose one congregation over the other? I think it's what I've now heard called "the Cool Factor."
For the church, the Cool Factor is about nurturing the kind of bond with people where they are secure enough to drop the old barriers and open themselves up to being taught God's Word in new, creative, relevant ways. It’s not about giving up theological distinctive, but about how they are presented. What the Cool Factor looks like will vary from congregation to congregation and community to community, but it's gonna be a presentation that consistently grabs the attention of a person and creates a dialogue between the church and the unchurched.
Remember: It’s not theology OR “cool” methodology. That’s a false dichotomy. It’s about the marriage of truth with relevant presentation. That’s cool.
Monday, January 31, 2011
For the Monday Morning Hangover: "Pastor, we wanna make sure we buy the right Bible"
I love working with new Christ-followers.
One day I got a phone call from a a lady who had taken a friend to buy her first Bible. As they were standing in the Family Bible Bookstore, they became confused with all the types of Bibles on the shelf, so they called me. The call basically went like this:
Caller: "Pastor, we're at the Family Bookstore to buy a Bible, and we wanna make sure we're getting the right kind of Bible."
Me: "Okay, so what did you find?"
Caller: "We found that NLT that you were talking about, but we're not sure it's the right Bible. We think there might be some books in it that aren't s'posed to be there."
Me: "Is it a Catholic Bible? Are you seeing the Apocrypha?"
Caller: "Well, no. The lady working here says it's not a Catholic Bible, but we're not sure. It's got a strange book in it we don't recognize."
Me: "Really? What's the name of it?"
Caller: "It looks like it might be pronounced 'lamentations'. That can't be right though, can it?"
Me: "Yup, that's a real book. It's supposed to be in there."
Caller: "Really?!"
Me: "Yup."
Caller: "So it IS s'posed to be in there?"
Me: "Yup."
Caller: "Wow. Okay. We didn't see that coming."
Me: "It's safe. It's supposed to be there."
Caller: "Okay, if you say so. It just didn't seem right. It just sounds like such a really sad book, but we serve a happy God, so we just thought someone might be trying to sneak something in on us."
Me: "Good catch. But it does belong there."
Caller: "Okay, if you say so. Just didn't see that coming. We'll buy it."
:)
One day I got a phone call from a a lady who had taken a friend to buy her first Bible. As they were standing in the Family Bible Bookstore, they became confused with all the types of Bibles on the shelf, so they called me. The call basically went like this:
Caller: "Pastor, we're at the Family Bookstore to buy a Bible, and we wanna make sure we're getting the right kind of Bible."
Me: "Okay, so what did you find?"
Caller: "We found that NLT that you were talking about, but we're not sure it's the right Bible. We think there might be some books in it that aren't s'posed to be there."
Me: "Is it a Catholic Bible? Are you seeing the Apocrypha?"
Caller: "Well, no. The lady working here says it's not a Catholic Bible, but we're not sure. It's got a strange book in it we don't recognize."
Me: "Really? What's the name of it?"
Caller: "It looks like it might be pronounced 'lamentations'. That can't be right though, can it?"
Me: "Yup, that's a real book. It's supposed to be in there."
Caller: "Really?!"
Me: "Yup."
Caller: "So it IS s'posed to be in there?"
Me: "Yup."
Caller: "Wow. Okay. We didn't see that coming."
Me: "It's safe. It's supposed to be there."
Caller: "Okay, if you say so. It just didn't seem right. It just sounds like such a really sad book, but we serve a happy God, so we just thought someone might be trying to sneak something in on us."
Me: "Good catch. But it does belong there."
Caller: "Okay, if you say so. Just didn't see that coming. We'll buy it."
:)
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transition #1: "New" Requires Change. Change Requires Risk. Risk Requires Permission to Fail.
At Adventure, we admit failure. In fact, we encourage people to risk it in ministry. If they're never failing, they aren't taking risks, and that means they're not changing — and if there's no change, there's no hope of growth. (This is hard for me because I’m a perfectionist. In fact, even admitting being a perfectionist is a challenge because to confess perfectionism is to confess being imperfect – something tough for a perfectionist!) :)
I look back on our launch in 1998 and think how many things we totally screwed up, but those same mistakes ultimately added to our strength and our appeal later on.
One of the funnier things was that we hand delivered cook-out invitations to 2500 homes, giving two dates and locations to choose from, and promised people friendly conversation with no obligation. We prepared for the onslaught.
The first night, five people showed up, all in one family, and it was the wife of a pastor who was coming to cheer us on.
The second night, we moved our cookout to a new spot. Three people come (one family). The whole idea was a strategic failure.
Yet that pastor's family who came by that first night was a contact that 7 years later would give us the opportunity to love and minister to 40+ inner city kids from broken homes who needed - now have - a loving church home.
The three who came the second night, was a family who owned a direct mail company. They offered to handle our direct mail at only the cost of the postage — a savings of several thousand dollars for us!
Over the years, we’ve done more things that failed than succeeded, yet none of those positive things would’ve happened had we not been willing to risk failure.
We frequently tell the stories of our failures, and we laugh (some are simply hilarious). But what has often appeared to be a failure at the time has turned into a success later on. Because of that willingness to fail or let people fail, we've done some unique things you won’t find in many other congregations.
The bottom line: New requires risk. While not all change is progress, all progress involves change and risk. Risk requires the opportunity to fail, to change, and to try again. If you’re a perfectionist like me, get over it. Success requires the possibility of imperfections – and lots of them.
I look back on our launch in 1998 and think how many things we totally screwed up, but those same mistakes ultimately added to our strength and our appeal later on.
One of the funnier things was that we hand delivered cook-out invitations to 2500 homes, giving two dates and locations to choose from, and promised people friendly conversation with no obligation. We prepared for the onslaught.
The first night, five people showed up, all in one family, and it was the wife of a pastor who was coming to cheer us on.
The second night, we moved our cookout to a new spot. Three people come (one family). The whole idea was a strategic failure.
Yet that pastor's family who came by that first night was a contact that 7 years later would give us the opportunity to love and minister to 40+ inner city kids from broken homes who needed - now have - a loving church home.
The three who came the second night, was a family who owned a direct mail company. They offered to handle our direct mail at only the cost of the postage — a savings of several thousand dollars for us!
Over the years, we’ve done more things that failed than succeeded, yet none of those positive things would’ve happened had we not been willing to risk failure.
We frequently tell the stories of our failures, and we laugh (some are simply hilarious). But what has often appeared to be a failure at the time has turned into a success later on. Because of that willingness to fail or let people fail, we've done some unique things you won’t find in many other congregations.
The bottom line: New requires risk. While not all change is progress, all progress involves change and risk. Risk requires the opportunity to fail, to change, and to try again. If you’re a perfectionist like me, get over it. Success requires the possibility of imperfections – and lots of them.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Leadership Fridays: Malicious Service Disruptions
As crazy as it sounds, there are people who want to disrupt worship services - for any number of reasons from simple internal disagreements to outside invasions.
A transgendered man had begun attending our services and our people - true to their form and reputation - welcomed him as a person. Within a few days it became clear that his intention was not to find Christ or to get his life together, but to raise money for a sex change surgery. He began approaching people and asking them for money every weekend. When they would hesitate to give him money, he would accost them, accusing them of being "hateful", "intolerant", and "unChristian". I was forced to approach him and tell him he was welcome to continue attending - but that the requesting of money had to stop.
He immediately became quite angry and warned us that the next weekend he intended to return with "friends" to disrupt our services and to teach us "a lesson about intolerance". Finding ourselves now targeted by a militant transgendered group, we were forced to take action in an attempt to prevent any disruption.
His threats forced me to issue a "no trespass order" to preserve the peace, and I then contacted an attorney about creating a warning sign to protect our services. This sign is the result of that conversation.
Because I don't believe the days are gonna get any easier for those of us in the Church, I wanna share this sign with you so you can have this resources in the eventuality that it is needed in your situation. (I hope you never need it, but it is better to be prepared for something that doesn't happen than to be ill-prepared for something that does.)
The text of the sign reads:
ATTENTION:
NO CASH IS KEPT ON THIS SITE, NOR IS IT DISBURSED FROM THIS SITE.
NO CASH IS KEPT ON THIS SITE, NOR IS IT DISBURSED FROM THIS SITE.
ATTENTION:
WORSHIP SERVICES & CHURCH-SPONSORED EVENTS ON THIS SITE ARE PROTECTED BY FEDERAL LAW FROM DISRUPTION OR INTERFERENCE.TITLE 18, U.S.C., SECTION 247
CHURCH ARSON PREVENTION ACT OF 1969
Prohibits [1] intentional defacement, damage, or destruction of any religious real property, because of the religious, racial, or ethnic characteristics of that property, or [2] intentional obstruction by force or threat of force, or attempts to obstruct any person in the enjoyment of that person's free exercise of religious beliefs. If the intent of the crime is motivated for reasons of religious animosity, it must be proven that the religious real property has sufficient connection with interstate or foreign commerce. However, if the intent of the crime is racially motivated, there is no requirement to satisfy the interstate or foreign commerce clause.
Punishment varies from one year imprisonment and a fine or both, and if bodily injury results to any person, including any public safety officer performing duties as a direct or proximate result of conduct prohibited by this section, and the violation is by means of fire or an explosive, a fine under this title or imprisonment of not more than 40 years or both; or if such acts include the use, attempted use, or accordance with this title and imprisonment for up to 20 years, or both, and if death results or if such acts include kidnapping or an attempt to kidnap, aggravated sexual abuse or an attempt to commit aggravated sexual abuse, or an attempt to kill, shall be fined in accordance with this title and imprisoned for any term of years or for life, or both, or maybe sentenced to death.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Wednesday Planter: Personal Transitions in Planting
Personal Transitions in Planting
My whole entry into church planting was spurred by a series of ministries I had in congregations which (at least at the time) had no interest in being effective or in changing. They feigned interest in reaching new people, provided those new people thought like them, dressed like them, talked like them, and did what they were told by them. That raised serious concerns for me.
My brother Tim was the first up close church planter I knew. My brother Matt was the second. They spurred me on by showing me how we could break out of the traditional mold and reach people many Christians would simply write off.
Since my ordination in 1983, it’s always jumped out at me was how the rest of the world was changing its styles, tastes, focus, and energy, but the church wasn’t: The church saw change as a threat. Communities were growing, yet congregations in them remained flat or declining. I pondered, “Why is everything booming but the church?”
I eventually realized businesses and communities were thriving because of change, something in which the church seemed to have no interest. My Bible College years found me — much to the chagrin of a couple profs — questioning what was essential for the church and what was not. I didn’t question theology. I questioned methodology. I began working to distinguish the difference between biblical teaching and modern practice. (In my childhood, you'd have thought short-hair, suits and ties, and hymns WERE biblical!) To this day, I know if I ask a pastor whether he understands the difference between biblical teaching and his denom’s practices – and he glazes over – he's in trouble.
The conclusion I came to is that in order for the church to be relevant to real life and to survive into the future, it needs to understand the change taking place around it, and transition its methodology (not theology!) to reach people.
At Adventure, we say up front in our Articles of Incorporation and our By-Laws: “Each generation of this congregation will continually prepare itself to minister to the following two generations.”
The message stays the same, but how it's delivered and presented must change. That requires a lot of personal transitions for church leaders. Over the next ten Wednesdays, I wanna share with you the transitions I had to make for this to happen for me personally.
My whole entry into church planting was spurred by a series of ministries I had in congregations which (at least at the time) had no interest in being effective or in changing. They feigned interest in reaching new people, provided those new people thought like them, dressed like them, talked like them, and did what they were told by them. That raised serious concerns for me.
My brother Tim was the first up close church planter I knew. My brother Matt was the second. They spurred me on by showing me how we could break out of the traditional mold and reach people many Christians would simply write off.
Since my ordination in 1983, it’s always jumped out at me was how the rest of the world was changing its styles, tastes, focus, and energy, but the church wasn’t: The church saw change as a threat. Communities were growing, yet congregations in them remained flat or declining. I pondered, “Why is everything booming but the church?”
I eventually realized businesses and communities were thriving because of change, something in which the church seemed to have no interest. My Bible College years found me — much to the chagrin of a couple profs — questioning what was essential for the church and what was not. I didn’t question theology. I questioned methodology. I began working to distinguish the difference between biblical teaching and modern practice. (In my childhood, you'd have thought short-hair, suits and ties, and hymns WERE biblical!) To this day, I know if I ask a pastor whether he understands the difference between biblical teaching and his denom’s practices – and he glazes over – he's in trouble.
The conclusion I came to is that in order for the church to be relevant to real life and to survive into the future, it needs to understand the change taking place around it, and transition its methodology (not theology!) to reach people.
At Adventure, we say up front in our Articles of Incorporation and our By-Laws: “Each generation of this congregation will continually prepare itself to minister to the following two generations.”
The message stays the same, but how it's delivered and presented must change. That requires a lot of personal transitions for church leaders. Over the next ten Wednesdays, I wanna share with you the transitions I had to make for this to happen for me personally.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Leadership Fridays: Life Coaching v. Counseling
IMHO, a lot of young pastors (I was one) are naively misguided with the best of intentions. We want to help people. We want to bring to them God’s compassion. Unfortunately, the counseling process is often the opposite of God’s call on us. I don’t do counseling. In fact, I’ve never met a lead or senior pastor who is both 1) in a growing church and 2) any good at counseling.
A large component of our congregation is in recovery of some sort or another: From addictions or abuse, both active and passive (Active meaning they willfully initiated it – alcoholism, substance, gambling, porn; Passive meaning they were afflicted by someone else – sexually, physically, financially, relationally, etc.).
When people ask me if I will counsel them, I explain “I am a triage specialist, not a therapist”. I will then apply the Four Sentence/30-second Rule, and will give them a referral to the appropriate professional people.
If I determine it isn’t counseling but coaching, I’ll meet with them again, but with expectations. Life coaching is a collaborative process in which the coach looks at the player’s attitudes, behaviors and actions directly and gives direction from an outside point of view. He’s not so concerned with how they feel about something as what they do about it. Feeling follows behavior. Let’s work the right behaviors first. If you can’t punch through the feelings to make right choices, well, no one can help someone who isn’t willing to help themselves - and that's why I'm no occupational threat to counselors. I will coach someone for as long as they are making an effort, but I will refer a counselee to a professional counselor.
A specific question follows the process: "How do I know if the player being coached is seriously making an effort at it?" One simple test: Each brief meeting with them gives them three to five things to work on for the next week. I ask them to, within 24 hours, email me what was on that list (as well as to remind me anything else I told them I would provide). I log it into my iPhone to send them a note 48 hours after the meeting if I still have not received their to-do list. Unless there is a really good reason, if I have not heard from them within 72-hours of our meeting, I’m done. If it’s important enough to merit my time, it’s important enough to merit theirs as well.
A large component of our congregation is in recovery of some sort or another: From addictions or abuse, both active and passive (Active meaning they willfully initiated it – alcoholism, substance, gambling, porn; Passive meaning they were afflicted by someone else – sexually, physically, financially, relationally, etc.).
When people ask me if I will counsel them, I explain “I am a triage specialist, not a therapist”. I will then apply the Four Sentence/30-second Rule, and will give them a referral to the appropriate professional people.
If I determine it isn’t counseling but coaching, I’ll meet with them again, but with expectations. Life coaching is a collaborative process in which the coach looks at the player’s attitudes, behaviors and actions directly and gives direction from an outside point of view. He’s not so concerned with how they feel about something as what they do about it. Feeling follows behavior. Let’s work the right behaviors first. If you can’t punch through the feelings to make right choices, well, no one can help someone who isn’t willing to help themselves - and that's why I'm no occupational threat to counselors. I will coach someone for as long as they are making an effort, but I will refer a counselee to a professional counselor.
A specific question follows the process: "How do I know if the player being coached is seriously making an effort at it?" One simple test: Each brief meeting with them gives them three to five things to work on for the next week. I ask them to, within 24 hours, email me what was on that list (as well as to remind me anything else I told them I would provide). I log it into my iPhone to send them a note 48 hours after the meeting if I still have not received their to-do list. Unless there is a really good reason, if I have not heard from them within 72-hours of our meeting, I’m done. If it’s important enough to merit my time, it’s important enough to merit theirs as well.
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