Recharging

    A few days ago I had a firsthand encounter with the church's overwhelming bias towards extroversion via a small Twitter feud.  A dear professor of mine, who is also an introvert, tweeted about his need to nourish his own soul after times of intense service.  He was simply pointing out that sometimes caring for people can be absolutely draining.  As an introvert he must (yes, must) pull away in order to be refilled emotionally, physically, mentally, and even (especially?) spiritually.

    Another tweeter grossly misread our professors statement to say "love yourself as much as you love others" and "care intensely for others as long as it doesn't suck you dry."  He adamantly insisted that Jesus' example teaches us to pour ourselves out completely, which means we don't have time to attend to our own needs.  We must be constantly serving or we aren't living the cross.

    While I absolutely applaud his radical approach to following Christ (which is truly a much needed word for most of us), I can't help but think he is drastically missing the point.  He simply cannot wrap his mind around the fact that there are millions of people that need down time after interaction.  There is even science to back it up - introverts have a specific brain chemistry that requires a recharging period because of dopamine sensitivity.  Too much activity or stimulation leads to intense feelings of exhaustion.

    So then what do we do with Jesus?  If we assume that he is an extrovert and that following him leads to a life of extroversion, all of the introverts of the world are in trouble.  We are sentenced to a life of complete exhaustion when the Savior promises rest for the weary.  Fortunately I don't think that is the case.

    Perhaps Jesus, the perfect man, is both 100% extrovert and 100% introvert.  At times Jesus appears as a deft public speaker, the life of the party, thriving in front of the crowds.  However, at other times he looks like a textbook introvert - going away to a solitary place in the morning, praying alone in the garden, associating primarily with a small group of friends, and even trying to get away from the masses to the middle of the lake.  Jesus is the best of both temperaments because he is the best of mankind.  By his actions, Jesus gives an OK to both introversion and extroversion.

    And what of denying ourselves and being poured out for others?  Certainly that is our calling as believers.  But if Jesus himself needed time for rest and renewal, alone and with close friends, can we not assume that pouring ourselves out completely is compatible with introversion?  Isn't there room in the kingdom for those of us who need to carve out alone time so that we can actually be whole people and serve to the best of our abilities?  I think so.

    Now introversion certainly does not grant us a license to neglect people for the sake of self.  That would be un-Christlike.  But I believe that nourishing our own soul is in fact a way of serving others.  By feeding our souls through solitude, prayer, silence, and even sleep we are allowing God to make us into better ministers.

    Unfortunately, the church will continue to embrace an overly extroverted model of faith.  Introverts will continue to be misunderstood and even labeled as selfish or unbiblical for their need of solitude.  Fortunately, Jesus says that need is fine.

    As one friend put it, the God-man himself had to get away for the proverbial cigarette break.  He needed rest and he grants it to his followers as well.

Preaching

    Next Sunday I will be preaching my first sermon in 5 or 6 years.  Somehow I managed to make it to my last year of seminary without yet taking a single preaching course.  Since I've spent most of my "work" time peddling coffee or cooking meals for large groups of international students, I haven't really had the occasion to preach outside of seminary either.  I guess you could say I'm long overdue.

    As I have been preparing for this one day for the last several weeks (and I literally mean several weeks) I've made a few observations about preaching.  For one, as an introvert I've really enjoyed the preparation process.  Its been great to read, take notes, and reflect with the purpose of sharing in mind.  Since I will be speaking I know that someone (probably 70 of them) will hear what I have to say.  Even if they don't really internalize what I have to say at least I've done my part by sharing.

    I also came across an interesting thought about preaching as I was reading Introverts in the Church.  The author pointed out the beauty of preaching for an introvert - uninterrupted speech.  Unlike conversation, preaching provides an opportunity to completely share reflections without anyone interjecting.  As internal processors, introverts hate interruptions because they provide new information that needs to be processed. The new data forces us back inside ourselves and prevents us from speaking until we have had time to thoroughly reflect.  That is why most introverts are bad at speaking on the fly and dread being put on the spot in social situations. 
    Thinking of preaching in this new light was incredibly freeing for me.  Before I had always thought of preaching as an introverts worst nightmare.  Why would I ever want to speak in front of a large group of people?  Now that I see it as an opportunity to share my thoughts without any interruptions, it actually sounds quite exciting.  Of course I'm still nervous about public speaking like most other people, but at least now I can't avoid preaching by playing the introvert card.

    Spending all of this time thinking about my sermon, I've also been forced to wonder if preaching is very effective at all.  I must have heard thousands of sermons in my life and I honestly can't remember more than a dozen.  That doesn't sound like a very high success rate to me.  Isn't there a better way to communicate the gospel?  Does it always require a 15-45 minute monologue by one member of the congregation?

    I'm reading Bonhoeffer's Life Together right now and in the section about community worship he doesn't even mention a sermon as part of worship.  Instead the focus is on reading scripture, praying, and singing together.  Have we missed something by focusing so much on the pulpit?  Perhaps we should focus more on simply reading the text together when we meet for worship and let it speak for itself.  Maybe explanation and interpretation of scripture should take place at another time in a conversational setting.  Of course that would be a lot messier for everyone and more uncomfortable for introverts like me but it might be the better alternative.  After all, I can remember countless conversations I've had about my faith compared to the measly 10 or so sermons I can recollect.

Call me naive but perhaps talking together is a better approach, one that recognizes that all of the voices of the congregation need to be heard.  It would be more difficult but it might be worth it.

Ministers?

    A couple of posts ago I mentioned the Taize Community.  I've been thinking a lot about Taize lately because of the link between Introverts in the Church and the contemplative type of spirituality fostered in the community.

    I've also been thinking about the communities' take on ministry in general.  For the brothers all tasks are equally ministerial.  Some brothers spend their days leading bible studies for pilgrims or running the welcome center for new arrivals.  Some brothers focus on planning the 3 daily prayer services.  Other brothers spend days making pottery or cooking or cleaning or simply praying.  Others are out and about in the world visiting churches and mission projects.  All of the brothers are doing ministry, regardless of the task.

    See, at Taize life is ministry.  All the brothers are ministers regardless of their different functions in the community.  So-called "religious" jobs are no more ministry than the "secular" jobs.  The distinction between "clergy" and "laity" is virtually nonexistent.  That is because the brothers recognize that every believer is absolutely necessary for the mission of God and each is also uniquely gifted and called to serve in different ways.  Since God's mission is broad enough to include spiritual, physical, and social healing, the work at Taize is broad enough to include all those aspects.  The cook ministers as he provides food, the teacher ministers as he shares the word, the potter ministers as he crafts a beautiful work of art, and the song leaders minister as they raise their voices to their Creator.

    I long for this kind of place in my world - a place where you don't necessarily have to be a preacher or a worship leader to truly be considered a minister. 

    I'm not just talking about a type of place where we recognize a mechanic telling someone about Jesus as a minister of sorts but a place where the work of a cook or an artist or a doctor or a technician is recognized as ministry in and of itself.  Since God's mission is big enough to include physical, spiritual, social, and even cultural healing, it seems like whatever we deem ministry should be at least that big as well.

    Jesus ministers to whole people and as his body it takes each and every one of us, preacher and janitor alike, to minister to his whole world, in all of its manifest needs.

Church?

    I've been spending a lot of my time this summer working at a ministry of FBC Abilene called City Light.  Its a sort of a combo soup kitchen/church/social ministry a la Mission Waco or Mission Arlington.  The ministry serves lunch three times a week, offers personal assistance for bills and gas, provides showers and laundry, and offers a worship service every Sunday morning.

    We are closed this week for yearly maintenance.  Once a year the whole operation shuts down for a week so carpets can be shampooed, ovens scraped clean, floors waxed, and pantries sorted.  It's a pretty massive endeavor.

    Yesterday as I was helping scrub down a serving station, one the directors began to tell me about something that happened earlier in the day.  A couple of the regulars  are lending a hand during the week with all of the maintenance.  She approached one of them to say thank you for helping out and his response was amazing.  He looked at her and said, "Why wouldn't I help?  This is my church."

"This is my church."

    Before that moment I hadn't really thought of City Light as a church.  After all, it is a ministry of another church, FBC Abilene, and I'm not sure that it does things like baptism or eucharist.  But when I heard that statement I realized that City Light most definitely is Church for these people even if it doesn't have a couple of the hallmarks we normally associate with a local congregation.

    In fact, City Light might be more Church than a lot of our churches.  This place meets the needs of its congregation in holistic ways.  It doesn't just provide a spiritual fix for them one day a week.  No, it offers them physical nourishment with meals throughout the week.  It gives them a place to clean up and helps them to make ends meet if they can't quite pay rent.  It gives them a ride to work when their gas tank is empty.  It provides a place of fellowship and solidarity with others that are having a rough time in life.  Because of this holistic vision of redemption and service, I honestly believe City Light is functioning more like the Church than many of our churches.

    What can I do back home to encourage this sort of holistic vision of salvation?  How can I allow my congregation to play this type of central role in my own life?

Sitting

    As I have been reading Introverts in the Church I have come to several great realizations.  The one that stands out the most concerns my proclivity for quiet times and reflection during worship.  I have always felt an inclination to sit down and reflect during times of song. One of my favorite things to do is to hunch over in the pew, close my eyes, and lose myself in my thoughts.  I've often felt really uncomfortable doing this, as if I'm being judged as less spiritual for not standing and singing with the rest of the congregation.  I've even had people tell me that the scriptures never mention sitting as a posture of worship so we should stand, kneel, or even fall on our faces.  But still, I find myself being drawn to sit.  There is something about sitting there thinking, praying and writing amongst my brothers and sisters that resonates with me, that makes me feel closer to God.

    Introverts in the Church helped me to realize that this inclination is simply a natural expression of introverted spirituality, which has a long tradition in the Church even if it isn't too popular in the contemporary evangelical world.  Throughout the centuries there have always been believers that connect with God through more contemplative practices than praise and worship choruses, hymns or even a sermon.  The community at Taize is a perfect example.  Three times a day they gather together to sit on the floor for times of meditative prayer, chanting, and silence.  And by silence, I don't mean a token 30 seconds at the beginning of a service.  I mean 10 or 15 minutes sitting together, not a single person uttering a word, only the sound of breathing filling up the room.

    Unfortunately for introverts like me, we live in a world saturated by noise and chatter.  Most of our churches tend to embrace this cultural bias towards extroversion.  Our worship is filled with noise from beginning to end.  We have songs and testimonies, sermons and readings, verbal prayers and even videos.  We enter the church in conversation about what we did last night and we leave discussing lunch plans and starting lineups.  There are hardly ever times of deep, honest, quiet reflection. 

    As a result I have tended to create the time for myself and often felt less spiritual for it.  I sit and think while other people are singing their hearts out.  I end up feeling like something is wrong with me, like my sort of spirituality is somehow defective because I'm not joining in with the crowd.  Not so anymore. 
   
    Reading Introverts in the Church and realizing that there are other people just like me (and more of them than we often think) that crave this type of introspective worship, has given me freedom to sit and reflect in worship.  Today when I felt the urge to reflect at the beginning of the service I sat down and wrote most of this blog post as an act of worship.  It is my hope that in the future more churches will integrate practices into their services that feel natural for introverts not just because we should make worship comfortable but because our God is just as much the God of silence as of song, and reflection as of exclamation.

Beginning

    I've tried to blog several times before but I've always quit after a couple months.  I would attempt to manufacture profound thoughts and spend hours crafting the perfect posts only to be completely exhausted by the time I was done.  After trying so hard I would always be tired of the whole process in a few short weeks.  Trying was always the death of my blogs.

    Now its time to take it up again.  This time I was able to work blogging into a syllabus for an assignment to give myself a little extra incentive.  Maybe if I have to write eventually it will develop as a natural rhythm of my life.  (That's at least my hope anyway.)  This time I also plan to try much less. 

    As we were driving to church this morning I was thinking about a book I'm reading right now called Introverts in the Church.  So far I have absolutely loved the book, not because it is the most profound book I've ever read, but because I have intimately connected with it.  It's almost as if he is writing my own thoughts for me, telling my story.  I started to think about other books in the past couple of years that I've loved like Evolving in Monkey Town and Questions to all Your Answers.  I loved both of those books, again, not because they were necessarily saying something groundbreaking but because I could relate to them.  They  gave me great encouragement, showing me that I am not alone in this journey.  There are other people just like me struggling to follow Jesus as best they can.  They struggle with doubts and cliches, with personality issues and questions.  Yet they keep going and they keep sharing their journey.

    This lead me to reflect upon my own writing.  Maybe I don't have to say something profound all the time.  Maybe I should just let my thoughts flow.  Maybe I should put my story out there so perhaps someone can recognize it as their own and be encouraged just like I was with Introverts, Evolving, and Questions.  Even when I don't have the best point to make, my thoughts could be exactly what someone else needs to make it through the day.  With that in mind, I begin.