Jill Briscoe's Laugh

I was asked to give an update on our church planting efforts this past Sunday at the Greater Toronto Spiritual Life Convention, an annual multi-church event. Because of this, I had a front row seat to hear Stuart Briscoe preach. I’ve heard Briscoe preach before, and as usual he did a masterful job. But that isn’t what I’ll remember the most from that evening.

Sitting in the front row, I was one person away from Stuart’s wife Jill as he preached. As Stuart preached, Jill laughed. She laughed a lot, and genuinely. She’s probably heard all of his jokes before, but after 57 years of marriage, she was engaged in what her husband said, and able to laugh at every one of his jokes.

One of my friends was asked recently by a church search committee what a successful ministry would look like if he came to that church. They probably expected him to describe goals about the growth of the church, and the great things that would happen under his ministry. After thinking a minute, he said that he would consider his ministry there a success if his wife still loved him at the end of his tenure, and that he had some true and significant friendships with others. It’s not the usual definition of success, but it’s not a bad one either.

I’ve been around long enough to understand that it’s hard, and that ministry and life can take its toll on one's life and marriage. On Sunday night I saw two things I loved: a man in his eighties who continues to serve faithfully, and his wife who still continues to laugh. 

I appreciate Stuart Briscoe’s preaching, but I may have appreciated his wife’s laugh even more. If I reach my eighties and have remained faithful, and have a wife who still laughs at my jokes, I will count myself a blessed man indeed.

In Praise of Hobbies

I’m a big fan of Sam Javanrouh, a Toronto street photographer who posted a picture a day for ten years. I’m still sad that he only posts the occasional picture now.

When we moved to Liberty Village in December 2012, I thought it would be a good time to try to take some street photography myself. I’ve taken a street photography course with Javanrouh a couple of times, and have been wandering around the Liberty Village community with a camera. I still haven’t run out of things to photograph, and I've posted a picture a day at LibertyVillage365.com for 673 days and counting.

My original intention was to use photography as a way to make connections in the community. It’s a creative and technological community, and I thought a photoblog could allow me to build relationships. Along the way, I discovered that I enjoyed photography. Not only that, but posting a picture every day gets me walking in the community, and it slows me down to observe what’s around me.

In some ways, the photography hasn’t done what I’d hoped. It hasn’t led to connections in the same way that other initiatives have. I’ve participated in one art show, and I’m about to participate in another. I’ve been able to publish a photobook using Kickstarter, and I’m about to order a few more for a Christmas show in a couple of weeks. I’m still posting a photo every day. We’ve been able to use some of these photographs in our ministry. I've met at least one significant community leader through the photoblog. All of this is good, but I won’t be writing a book about how to grow your church using street photography anytime soon.

When are you free to be fully yourself without your ministry leadership role? In what ways are you developing your hobbies?
— Resilient Ministry: What Pastors Told Us About Surviving and Thriving

But I’d do it again in a minute, not as a means to an end, but as an end in itself. I’m learning the joy of avocation, and in taking the time to enjoy my community in ways that I might not in the busyness of life and ministry. Plus, it’s fun to know that my photos are hanging in some people’s homes now.

I’ve met a few other pastors and theologians who enjoy photography too. If you’ve ever thought about pursuing photography as a hobby, I’d encourage you to pursue it. Today, I’d like to sing the praises of hobbies when they’re rightly pursued.

Being Present in a World of Cell Phones and Social Media

So much of the time I’m not completely present. I’m thinking of what else I need to be doing, or somewhere else I would rather be. I don’t think I’m alone, either. I sometimes sense that others are half-present, suffering from what one person has called continuous partial attention. We can end up skimming through life, ministry, and relationships.

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One of the culprits, to be honest, is technology. I find myself checking Twitter and Facebook more often than I’d like to admit. I sometimes suffer from phantom vibrations of my cell phone. I forgot my cell phone one evening at a concert and felt a little lost. I also felt strangely judgmental towards others at the concert who spent the evening looking at glowing screens rather than at the artist who was right in front of them.

And that’s the point: we miss what is right in front of us — stunning, average, or even negative — because we are plugged into screens that are roughly 8-10 square inches.

What’s hard to believe is how new a problem this is. I remember seeing the first iPhone from a friend who is a tech journalist, and it was only seven years ago. When I sent my first round of Facebook friend requests in 2007, I received this puzzled response from a university professor:

I have no idea what "Facebook" is. I'll have to ask my boys...I suspect that they know what this is. Do let me know what you have in mind with this.

When I joined Twitter in 2007 (the same year as I joined Facebook and saw the first iPhone), it wasn’t the time suck that it is today. My first tweet, by the way, was a lame and only one word long:

In his book The End of Absence, Michael Harris observes that this is all so new that we haven’t even stopped to consider what we’ve lost when we’re always connected. “Soon enough, nobody will remember life before the Internet,” he says.

Just as previous generations were charmed by televisions until their sets were left always on, murmuring as consolingly as the radios before them, future generations will be so immersed in the Internet that questions about its basic purpose or meaning will have faded from notice. Something tremendous will be missing from their lives— a mind-set that their ancestors took entirely for granted— but they will hardly be able to notice its disappearance.

We went camping this summer, and were completely unplugged (no cell phone signal, no Internet, no power) for two weeks. By the time I came back, I found that I had no desire to immerse myself in social media again. Since then, I’ve drastically cut back on the number of blogs I follow, and the number of tweets I read. (I follow over 2,700 people but make use of lists to help me manage that number.) It took a complete break from social media for me to be ready to make drastic changes. And yes, I’ve thought about going back to a dumb phone, although that may be a little too drastic. (See David Wells, though, on six ways that cell phones are changing us. The article is definitely worth careful thought).

There’s no going back, but there are some steps we can take. I’ve found these ones helpful:

  • Consider a digital fast. It is hard to be aware of how deeply we are immersed in technology until we take a break from it. Take a break as an experiment to see how you feel.
  • Make it a little bit harder to pull out your cell phone when you’re bored. At least you will be aware of when you pull it out absent-mindedly to pass the time, when you could instead be alone with your thoughts or the people around you. (Surprisingly, some people would rather be shocked than to be alone with their thoughts.)
  • Turn off the screens at a certain time of the day. We’ve tried to start putting our screens (except for the Kindle) away at 8:00 at night. It’s made my evenings a lot more enjoyable.
  • Cut back. Stop reading so many blogs and tweets. Separate the essential few from the trivial many. (Greg McKeown’s book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less is helpful here.)

I continue to live both online and off, but I want to be deliberate about where I am choosing to focus. This will no doubt be an ongoing struggle, but I want my life back. I want to be present.

I’m guessing that you do too. I’d love to hear your thoughts on how you are managing your life so that you are present despite the new technologies that can capture us before we even think.

Be There

I’ve experienced it. I’ve been talking to someone important, and felt that they are completely present with me. They are not thinking of what they are going to say while I’m talking; they are not in a rush to get to the next appointment. They are completely present. It’s such a rare thing to experience that it’s almost unsettling.

In his new book The Organized Mind: Thinking Straight in the Age of Information Overload, Daniel J. Levitin reflects on a time that he met Jimmy Carter when he was campaigning for president.

He spoke as though we had all the time in the world. At one point, an aide came to take him off to the next person he needed to meet. Free from having to decide when the meeting would end, or any other mundane care, really, President Carter could let go of those inner nagging voices and be there.

The secret? In Carter’s case, and also in the case of famous musicians Levitin mentions, it’s assistants who handle distractions so that you can “narrow your attentional filter to that which is right before you, happening right now.”

For those of us without executive assistants, he writes, we need to rely on our own wits in making decisions so that whatever is in front of us is the most important thing we can be doing right now, so that we can let go of the rest. Easier said than done!

I want to reflect on this a little, though, because it’s so important. I want to unpack a few ideas over the next week or so:

  • the importance of being present for ministry;
  • the power of being present compared to the tragedy of being continually distracted;
  • some practical ways to make this happen, and
  • the implications of a God who is always present with us.

I am blogging about this because I need to think about it as much as anyone. Stay tuned, and let me know what you think as I try to unpack some of my thoughts on this important topic.