another merry christmas

I was intrigued by something Tim Timmons said at a Christmas concert last week about the meaning of the word “merry.” To wish someone a Merry Christmas is more than just wishing them happiness, (which we could also use a little more of, right?).  And it’s certainly not the same thing as wishing them a super sparkly season.

Tim pointed to Robin Hood and his merry men to find the deeper, historical meaning of the word. You know the story. Robin’s merry men were anything but super sparkly consumers of good cheer. They were rugged radicals. They lived on little and fought against greed. They sought justice and they gave their lives to overturn the prevailing culture of callous privilege.

“Merry” described the counter-cultural commitment that characterized their lives. To be merry was to be filled with courage. So when we wish someone a Merry Christmas this year, lets wish them courage to do what is right, to live justly, to resist greed, and to seek the common good during this sacred season.

structure is the second thing

I tend to think like an architect, so if something seems a bit off in an organization, in a community, or in a project, my mind naturally goes right to structural changes that could be made to address the issue.  And sometimes that’s exactly what is needed to get things working right. But rarely is that the best place to start.

I was coaching a gifted young leader yesterday who is operating within a structure that doesn’t suit him perfectly, and we naturally began to focus on possible structural tweaks that would help him lead more effectively. But going directly after those external changes—changes that would take time to implement even if they were widely embraced—was actually distracting him from the internal changes he could make right now that would make him a better leader regardless of what happens around him.

I asked him these 2 questions:

Given the structure you’re in right now,

1. Are you leading as well as you could?

2. Are you loving people as well as you can?

That shifted the conversation from the future to the present, from focusing on external circumstances to focusing on being a better leader from the inside out. And that’s where we usually need to start.

Regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in, we would do well to ask ourselves these two questions:

1. What can I do to be a better leader right now, right here?

2. How can I love people better right here, right now?

When we live into the answers to those two questions we might even find that the structures we’re in are not quite the obstacles to success that we thought they once were.

it’s the doing that counts

My good friend John Reed recently wrote, “In the end, it’s not really what I heard or what I felt, or what I thought about, considered, intended or understood that counts. In the end, it’s the doing that counts. Application is everything.”

John’s words reminded me of a story that Jesus told in Matthew 21 about a vintner and his two sons . The father asked each of his sons to go spend some time working in the family vineyard. The older son said, (paraphrased), “You bet, I’m on it,” but didn’t actually go. Conversely the younger son told his dad, “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” but then actually went and did the work anyway.

Jesus left no doubt which son did the right thing, and he went on to teach us that he’s really not all that interested in our words or intentions. Jesus expects us to act because he knows that all of us are capable of doing good. And in the end, it’s the doing that counts.

For 8 years the Pangani Guesthouse in South Africa was NieuCommunities’ home. It was also where our family lived from 2005-2006 and it’s filled with sweet and transforming memories. Pangani has always been a special space and thousands of guests’ lives have been moved and formed here over the years. When we sensed we needed to relocate our ministry into a downtown neighborhood, we gulped hard and put Pangani on the market. We had really hoped another ministry—maybe even a ministry partner—might be able to buy it to continue its legacy and maybe even let us use it from time to time too for workshops and retreats at a “friend’s rate.” Well, this week Pangani finally sold…to a local veterinary school for student housing. We love dogs and all, but dang, it looked like our days at Pangani were over. Until we met the owner! On a walk through of the property this past week Joe—our site leader in Pretoria—had a chance to tell the buyer a bit of our story in South Africa over the past decade and about our hopes for the future. He was super encouraged—even moved—by our story and by our dreams and he responded by telling us that we can keep using Pangani anytime we want to…for free! That was even more than we had hoped for and a sweet affirmation of things yet to come. May many, many more special memories be formed in this sacred place.
Pop-upView Separately

For 8 years the Pangani Guesthouse in South Africa was NieuCommunities’ home. It was also where our family lived from 2005-2006 and it’s filled with sweet and transforming memories. Pangani has always been a special space and thousands of guests’ lives have been moved and formed here over the years.

When we sensed we needed to relocate our ministry into a downtown neighborhood, we gulped hard and put Pangani on the market. We had really hoped another ministry—maybe even a ministry partner—might be able to buy it to continue its legacy and maybe even let us use it from time to time too for workshops and retreats at a “friend’s rate.”

Well, this week Pangani finally sold…to a local veterinary school for student housing. We love dogs and all, but dang, it looked like our days at Pangani were over. Until we met the owner! On a walk through of the property this past week Joe—our site leader in Pretoria—had a chance to tell the buyer a bit of our story in South Africa over the past decade and about our hopes for the future. He was super encouraged—even moved—by our story and by our dreams and he responded by telling us that we can keep using Pangani anytime we want to…for free! That was even more than we had hoped for and a sweet affirmation of things yet to come.

May many, many more special memories be formed in this sacred place.

stand up and applaud

Super encouraged today by this email:

“I picked up the book Thin Places at the Wild Goose Festival. Little did I know that it would impact me the way it has and resonate so much with the direction we are moving at Hopesprings Community of Faith here in Bangor, PA. I just wanted to thank you and Jon for sharing your hearts and the heart and practices of your communities with the rest of us. I am the community development director here at Hopesprings so I read lots of stuff, (kind of obsessively read way too much stuff about missional living, missional communities-you know the drill), but I don’t believe I have ever wanted to stand up and applaud after I have read a book or said to myself so many times when reading: that’s it! You guys succinctly expressed in a couple hundred pages what we have been trying to live and teach the past few years. Thanks so much!” - Terry Wilson

This fall we are thrilled to invite 10 more aspiring missional leaders into our one-year NieuCommunities apprenticeship in Golden Hill (San Diego). In the apprenticeship we seek to form leaders—in the context of a community that is deeply rooted in a neighborhood— for the life and mission they were created for. Our apprenticeship is geared toward 20 or 30 somethings. If you or someone you know is interested, I would highly recommend coming down for one of our long-weekend “Taste and See” experiences happening over the next few weeks.

For more information email rebecca.chase@crmleaders.org

We are late to the game in caring for our world and the people who will inhabit it because we’ve been living an evacuation theology instead of a kingdom theology.
Inspired by conversations with Colin Richard and Pamela Wilhelms at Inhabit 2012 conference.
The story of Jesus doesn’t start in Capernaum or end there, but most of it takes place there. Today you will only find the ruins of this ancient fishing village along the shore of the Galilee, but I saw something in those ruins last month that I had never seen in a lifetime of reading the Jesus narratives. And somehow it made the story more magical and more human all at the same time. I’ll come back to that, but it might make more sense after first taking a moment to remember just some of what took place in this small town. It was in Capernaum where Jesus selected and chose twelve regular guys to join him and form his revolutionary band. Most of those blue collar disciples were residents of Capernaum. Peter’s family house was in Capernaum and Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in law there. That house became the hub of the church in Galilee during the 1st century and the ruins of the house can still be seen. It was in Capernaum where Jesus first taught that the Kingdom of God was near. When Jesus tells Peter to walk down to the lake and get a coin out of a fish’s mouth to pay the temple tax, it was for the temple in Capernaum, (pictured here), which was just steps away from Peter’s front door. Jesus calls a dark spirit out of a troubled soul in that temple and commands the spirit to leave. Later, in that same Capernaum temple, Jesus tells his followers that they will leave him too. It was in Capernaum where the Roman centurion asked Jesus to heal his servant, and Jesus does. The un-named royal official who risked his job when he asked Jesus to heal his dying son also lived in Capernaum. That’s where his son was spared and probably played in the streets. It was in Capernaum where four tough-mined men carried their paralyzed friend up onto a roof and busted a hole through it to get their friend down to where Jesus was. Matthew worked a toll booth on the road out of town, and when he invited Jesus to join him and some other unsavory characters at his house for dinner, they dined in Capernaum. On the hillside just above Capernaum Jesus delivered perhaps the greatest teaching ever offered, a talk often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount. I was struck by the small footprint of the town that was referred to so often in scripture. The entire village of Capernaum is about the size of two football fields lying side by side. So all the people mentioned above were neighbors. They would have known each other. Most of them probably grew up together. Occupying forces, seditious fishermen, corrupt tax authorities, temple priests, the privileged and the working poor would have all passed each other every day in the narrow alleys of this ancient village. They not only would have known each other, they would have known each other’s stories. The above stories weren’t just the stories of isolated individuals, they were the stories of a neighborhood that would have been talked about over every table. But the thing that really struck me was that Jesus chose this little village to become his new home. He could have moved to a larger, more strategic city, but he chose to move into a neighborhood where everybody knows your name. He launched his global initative by becoming an integral part of a little neighborhood that his disciples called home. The scriptures are so dense with stories revolving around Capernaum because Jesus submerged so deeply into its life. It was far more than just a place to work out of; it was the neighborhood Jesus inhabited and made his home.
Pop-upView Separately

The story of Jesus doesn’t start in Capernaum or end there, but most of it takes place there. Today you will only find the ruins of this ancient fishing village along the shore of the Galilee, but I saw something in those ruins last month that I had never seen in a lifetime of reading the Jesus narratives. And somehow it made the story more magical and more human all at the same time.

I’ll come back to that, but it might make more sense after first taking a moment to remember just some of what took place in this small town.

  • It was in Capernaum where Jesus selected and chose twelve regular guys to join him and form his revolutionary band. Most of those blue collar disciples were residents of Capernaum.
  • Peter’s family house was in Capernaum and Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in law there. That house became the hub of the church in Galilee during the 1st century and the ruins of the house can still be seen.
  • It was in Capernaum where Jesus first taught that the Kingdom of God was near.
  • When Jesus tells Peter to walk down to the lake and get a coin out of a fish’s mouth to pay the temple tax, it was for the temple in Capernaum, (pictured here), which was just steps away from Peter’s front door.
  • Jesus calls a dark spirit out of a troubled soul in that temple and commands the spirit to leave. Later, in that same Capernaum temple, Jesus tells his followers that they will leave him too.
  • It was in Capernaum where the Roman centurion asked Jesus to heal his servant, and Jesus does.
  • The un-named royal official who risked his job when he asked Jesus to heal his dying son also lived in Capernaum. That’s where his son was spared and probably played in the streets.
  • It was in Capernaum where four tough-mined men carried their paralyzed friend up onto a roof and busted a hole through it to get their friend down to where Jesus was.
  • Matthew worked a toll booth on the road out of town, and when he invited Jesus to join him and some other unsavory characters at his house for dinner, they dined in Capernaum.
  • On the hillside just above Capernaum Jesus delivered perhaps the greatest teaching ever offered, a talk often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount.

I was struck by the small footprint of the town that was referred to so often in scripture. The entire village of Capernaum is about the size of two football fields lying side by side. So all the people mentioned above were neighbors. They would have known each other. Most of them probably grew up together. Occupying forces, seditious fishermen, corrupt tax authorities, temple priests, the privileged and the working poor would have all passed each other every day in the narrow alleys of this ancient village. They not only would have known each other, they would have known each other’s stories. The above stories weren’t just the stories of isolated individuals, they were the stories of a neighborhood that would have been talked about over every table.

But the thing that really struck me was that Jesus chose this little village to become his new home. He could have moved to a larger, more strategic city, but he chose to move into a neighborhood where everybody knows your name. He launched his global initative by becoming an integral part of a little neighborhood that his disciples called home. The scriptures are so dense with stories revolving around Capernaum because Jesus submerged so deeply into its life. It was far more than just a place to work out of; it was the neighborhood Jesus inhabited and made his home.

coast to coast

We are sometimes criticized for wanting to be tightly woven into the fabric of our neighborhood. The concern is that we’ll get too entangled in people’s lives, that we’ll succumb to tunnel vision and lose our ability to make an impact in the world. I suspect there’s validity in those concerns; it just hasn’t been our experience. We’ve found that by submerging into our neighborhood we actually learn to understand the world better and our influence in it runs deeper…and in turn wider. This short story in my friend Matt’s blog about a friend of ours is truer to what we experience in our neighborhood and what we celebrate. 

I didn’t know what to expect as I descended the steep stone steps into the candle-lit chamber lying beneath the Church of the Nativity. I certainly didn’t expect to feel the kind of butterflies I’ve often felt before playing in a big game or giving a presentation, but the sensation was surpringly familiar. There was a gravity in this place that cut through the commercialized veneer that clouds much of the holy land, a sacredness that filled my heart with a sense of wonder. That was an unexpected gift. I also didn’t expect what happened next. As Laurie and I lingered in the space where God entered our world, a large group of Muslim teenage girls filed down the steps and entered the sacred chamber with curiosity filling their faces. They instinctively flocked around Laurie and peppered her with questions. What is this place? Why are people kneeling and kissing the cold stone slab? What happened here? It’s easy to forget that Bethlehem is a Palestinian city in the occupied West Bank and that its population is predominantly Muslim. And even though Jesus is spoken of in the Koran, his story is largely unfamiliar to many Muslims, even to those born and raised in Bethlehem. After tackling their questions and sharing a bit more of The Story, we ascended the steps into the Catholic side of the church to observe the mass that had just begun. What happened next was perhaps the most unexpected of all. As we walked towards the gate leading into the Catholic sanctuary, the priest stopped the Muslim girls and told them they were not allowed in. He shooed them away while simultaneously inviting us to enter. Sheepishly the girls left the church. We walked out with them to apologize to them for being so rudely treated and to stand with them as any friend would do. Bewildered, and admittedly angry, I walked back into the church to ask the priest why he had turned the girls away. He told me Muslims weren’t allowed to attend mass. I told him they were curious to know more about Jesus. He looked at me as if I were a naive tourist and told me it was impossible. He invited me to either come into the mass or leave. I left. The realities in the West Bank are certainly dicey and complex. I get that. But Jesus invited the curious to come and see and to come and be with him. No one with a hungry heart was turned away and there was always room for more. With Jesus, the impossible was always possible…and it still is.
Pop-upView Separately

I didn’t know what to expect as I descended the steep stone steps into the candle-lit chamber lying beneath the Church of the Nativity. I certainly didn’t expect to feel the kind of butterflies I’ve often felt before playing in a big game or giving a presentation, but the sensation was surpringly familiar. There was a gravity in this place that cut through the commercialized veneer that clouds much of the holy land, a sacredness that filled my heart with a sense of wonder. That was an unexpected gift.

I also didn’t expect what happened next. As Laurie and I lingered in the space where God entered our world, a large group of Muslim teenage girls filed down the steps and entered the sacred chamber with curiosity filling their faces. They instinctively flocked around Laurie and peppered her with questions. What is this place? Why are people kneeling and kissing the cold stone slab? What happened here?

It’s easy to forget that Bethlehem is a Palestinian city in the occupied West Bank and that its population is predominantly Muslim. And even though Jesus is spoken of in the Koran, his story is largely unfamiliar to many Muslims, even to those born and raised in Bethlehem. After tackling their questions and sharing a bit more of The Story, we ascended the steps into the Catholic side of the church to observe the mass that had just begun. What happened next was perhaps the most unexpected of all.

As we walked towards the gate leading into the Catholic sanctuary, the priest stopped the Muslim girls and told them they were not allowed in. He shooed them away while simultaneously inviting us to enter. Sheepishly the girls left the church. We walked out with them to apologize to them for being so rudely treated and to stand with them as any friend would do.

Bewildered, and admittedly angry, I walked back into the church to ask the priest why he had turned the girls away. He told me Muslims weren’t allowed to attend mass. I told him they were curious to know more about Jesus. He looked at me as if I were a naive tourist and told me it was impossible. He invited me to either come into the mass or leave. I left.

The realities in the West Bank are certainly dicey and complex. I get that. But Jesus invited the curious to come and see and to come and be with him. No one with a hungry heart was turned away and there was always room for more. With Jesus, the impossible was always possible…and it still is.

An 8 meter high concrete wall cuts through Palestinian streets and neighborhoods…and hearts and lives. Only 5% of the separation wall is built on the Green Line; the rest of it is illegal. All of it hurts.

As you watch this video, please pray for Palestine and the tens of thousands of Palestinian Christians in the West Bank. May they experience the freedom and dignity that God created all of his children to enjoy.