Blog

Courage is almost a contradiction in terms.  It means a strong desire to live taking the form of readiness to die.  ~G.K. Chesterton

Today my regularly scheduled post can be found over at my friend Andi’s blog (link at the bottom of the page). It’s about writing and life and courage – check it out.

Andi’s got a fabulous thing going over there, writing about art and books, music and life. Her mother passed away on Thanksgiving Day, about 6 weeks ago, so if you’re looking for someone who knows what it’s like to suffer loss and writes about it in a raw, beautiful way, you’ll want to add her blog to your feed reader.

But before I hand over that cherished link, here are three things I’m super-duper excited about these days:

1) We had our first week of “8 Weeks in the Red” and the whole thing was remarkable. If you are looking for a place to safely explore ideas around religion, faith and spirituality, (and you live within driving distance of Gap, PA) you should think about coming.

2) I’ve got a few speaking gigs lined up to talk about my latest book, “83 Lost Sheep,” co-written with Gerry Stoltzfoos. If you’d like me to come to your church to talk about it, let me know.

3) I’m doing a lot of guest posts this month, including visits at AndiLit, Janet Oberholtzer, Crazy Widow, Rachel Held Evans, and The House Studio. I love each of these blogs.

Now head on over to Andi’s blog and check out my guest post on writing and courage.

There are two things I think about when I think of my friend, Gerry Stoltzfoos:

The man has big feet (size 14 to be exact).

The man has an even bigger heart (at least three sizes larger than is good for anyone in this world, where kindness and gentleness are so underrated).

So it was with great nervousness and excitement that I responded to his January, 2010 request to help him write his book.

Let’s do it, I said.

We called it “83 Lost Sheep.”

* * * * *

First of all, let me explain the differences between Gerry and I.

Gerry is a pentecostal, evangelical preacher with a faith even bigger than his feet.

I am a postmodern, introverted, nondenominationalist who rarely is comfortable being certain about anything.

Gerry spends his life caring for people – not church people or Christians or holy people. Just people.

I spend most of my days sitting in front of my keyboard, putting one…word…in…front…of…the…other.

But somehow we came together and created a book based on Gerry’s teaching of Luke 10, when Jesus sends out his disciples. “His instructions to them: the Harvest is so great, but the workers are so few…” I think the teaching is compelling, interesting, even inspiring. Hopefully the writing has captured Gerry’s over-sized heart.

* * * * *

It’s a book of stories, mostly, about the beginnings of churches (Gerry is passionate about starting new churches). He also talks about why fifty years ago so many people found value in, and attended, church. Yet today so few people go anymore.

But my favorite part is in Chapter 8 (a chapter entitled, “It’s About Blessing, Stupid”):

Want to know why most parents can’t influence their teenagers?

They criticize their kids’ music.

They criticize their kids’ clothes.

They criticize their kids’ friends.

They criticize their kids’ choice of career.

They criticize EVERYTHING about their kids! And then they wonder why they have no influence.

Pastors want to know why no one comes to their church.

Often it’s because in subtle ways, and in big ways, they put people down. No one wants to hang around that – it doesn’t matter how good of a speaker you are. The bottom line? People will not go to a place that makes them hate themselves. They’re not coming back.

I’m not saying that preachers have to water down their messages – even fire and brimstone preachers can be good at it, if they help the listener feel redeemable. But being an endless critic will get you nowhere. This is precisely why we’re not influencing our world today. The first thing the world thinks about when they hear “Christian” is the list of things they think we’re against:

Swearing.

Homosexuality.

Abortion.

Liberalism.

Alcohol.

Smoking.

Fun.

Until the world feels complimented and blessed by us, we will never have influence.

* * * * *

If the path the church is on interests you, if you like thinking about how the church can get back on track, or if you like to read a great speaker telling insightful stories, then this is a must read.

You can find out more about it HERE.

You can order the audio version HERE.

You can order the paperback on Amazon, and if you’ve read it you can use that link to go and leave a review, for which I would be eternally grateful (or at least grateful until next week).

Or if you live close to Gap, PA, send me an email (shawnsmucker@yahoo.com). I’d be happy to deliver a signed copy to your door for $15.00.

I heard a “seasoned” journalist on the radio the other day dismiss blogging.

“If you are a writer, why would you do it for free?” he scoffed.

What do you think? If you’re a blogger (and you don’t get paid to do it), why do you blog?

And if you don’t blog, where is the strangest place you found a stink bug this winter? Ours was melted into candle wax. Also, a group of them huddled around our furnace’s pilot light and put it out.

So finally this Sunday it begins.

Eight Weeks in the Red. Or, as we’ve started affectionately referring to it, “The Red.”

I’ve been looking forward to this for about six months.

* * * * *

Earlier this year my good friend and old college roommate Jason got in touch with me. We’d always connected, perhaps because we both played soccer or are deep thinkers or were born on the same day, same year. He was going through a time of spiritual exploration. I was too. And even though we were on slightly different trajectories, we had a lot of ideas to throw around.

He is not committed to a Christian world view, and I am, but there was this thing: I was learning all kinds of spiritual truths from him, things that lined up with scripture and some of the more traditional aspects of Christianity, stuff I had never been taught in my evangelical upbringing. Some of the conversations we had blew my mind. Some made me feel very, very lost. Some brought a lot of my doubts to the surface. But for the most part, our discussions made me dig even deeper into the Bible, made me analyze what Jesus really said (and not just what I was taught that he said), made me ask difficult questions about my faith.

Then this thought hit me: the Christian church needs people like Jason in their seats. And not just sitting there, but asking difficult questions, dialoguing, spurring them on. But for the most part, we don’t like it. People like J make us uncomfortable because they don’t agree with our faith statements or our denominational emphasis or our “blind faith.”

But why? Why does the church work so hard to create congregations of people who, like robots, all believe the exact same thing?

Why is the church so uncomfortable with having people of different faiths come along for the ride?

Why is the church tailor-made for only Christians to enjoy?

If someone is genuinely seeking spiritual truth, does it matter if they are a Buddhist or a Muslim or a Christian? I’m not saying the church has to change its teaching or that it has to stray from Biblical truth, but can’t we create an environment that is open to questioning and dialogue and spiritual introspection?

Then came The Red.

* * * * *

For eight weeks, beginning this Sunday morning at 10am, we are going to try to create an environment that digs into Biblical truths in a way that is open to dialogue and questions. We hope you don’t have to be a Christian to enjoy it. Our main goal? Furthering the conversation on faith and spirituality.

We’re not so sure that people want the one-hour services that are so popular these days in “seeker” churches, so we are starting at 10am for anyone who wants coffee and doughnuts. The main experience is at 11am – we’ll have a time of silent meditation, a time to interact artistically, a time to talk about some aspect of Jesus’ teaching (this week we’re discussing Theological Humility), and an optional time of prayer. If you’re not comfortable praying, go get a jump on the line for lunch.

The (in)famous potluck lunch.

We did a trial run this past week with the volunteer-leaders, and from coffee time to the end of lunch, all in all we spent about four hours together. It was kind of refreshing, not rushing in and rushing out, actually getting to speak with people for more than five seconds on your way to the car.

* * * * *

We’re also going to try to incorporate as much social media as possible, so anyone who comes is encouraged to bring their computers or smart phones, get on the web while we’re in the middle of it. We’ll be updating our Facebook page and Twitter account (@8weeksintheRed) through the whole thing, so feel free to jump in and ask a question if you’d like. Or join us for the time of silent meditation. It would be nice to know that other folks out there, all over the place, are coming along for the ride.

* * * * *

8 Weeks in the Red. I can’t believe it starts this Sunday. Stay tuned. And, if you don’t mind, help us spread the word by sharing this blog or our Facebook page with your friends.

Click HERE for details on location, time, etc.

“There is a point at which everything becomes simple and there is no longer any question of choice, because all you have staked will be lost if you look back.”  Dag Hammarskjold

* * * * *

We all want to create something. We all want to be the lords of our own little worlds, to create caverns of new realities that others can enter and look around with awe-filled eyes.

We want to start a business.

We want to have a child.

We want to write a story.

* * * * *

But then the problem: we want to create, but we are so rarely willing to give up ourselves completely. We want to grab the fresh new thing without letting go of the old self. We want to cross the stream but hesitate when it comes to leaving the bank we are on. But these streams are too wide to straddle.

We are frightened of giving ourselves up, of ratting ourselves out. We are frightened of telling the truth. The many masks we have taken on are not easily removed.

* * * * *

In the journal John Steinbeck kept while writing East of Eden, he wrote about how the story took over his mind. He told about how, night after night, he would go without sleep while contemplating the tale’s twists and turns, the character’s intricacies, the setting’s subtleties.

I did not sleep last night and I look forward to those nights of discovery…And after everyone is asleep there is such quiet and peace, and it is during this time that I can explore every land and trail of thinking.

Yet I shy away from writing too late – not enough sleep, and my eyes dry out. I don’t feel like feeling tired the next day.

I am scared of writing plot lines which echo my own life, or are the complete opposite of it, keeping me stuck in this muddy middle ground of mediocrity.

* * * * *

This year, don’t look back.

Lose yourself in a new creation.

Take yourself to the point at which choice no longer is an option.

* * * * *

They are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but sea.  ~Francis Bacon

Maile and I have been in the child-raising stage of life for roughly 7 1/2 years now. We’ve had at least one child in diapers for all but a few months of that time period (and usually two in diapers).

If there’s one thing we’ve had our share of, it’s crying children. According to thechildrenshospital.org, the average baby has 1-2 hours of unexplained crying every day. That means, up to this point, we may have made it through 2920 hours of unexplained crying.

Sheesh.

Just the other night the six of us went to the mall so that Maile and I could spend some of our hard-earned Christmas gift cards. Maile waited dutifully with the kids at the play area while I did some shopping, and then we switched. After watching all those strange kids at the play area, I’m pretty surprised none of ours got The Plague, or at least dysentery.

Maile came back, and I thought the night was about to ease into a painless finale, but when she saw the clothes I had picked out for myself, it was back to the store to return the clothes and find something “that worked.”

By this time it was around 8:00pm. There was tiredness involved, there was crankiness, there were even a few tears…and that was just me. But by the time Maile had helped me find something “that worked,” 18 month old Sam had had enough. He lapsed into one of those “I’m-so-tired-that-you-have-no-right-to-discipline-me-it’s-your-fault-we-ve-reached-this-point-let’s-just-get-the-heck-out-of-here-so-that-I-can-fall-asleep-in-the-van” sort of moments.

So we ran from the mall.

It got me thinking – we’ve come across some creative ways to get our kids to stop crying (none of which worked that night). And we don’t have all of these ideas because we are experts at getting them to stop; it’s just that when you’re not an expert at getting them to stop, you have to try SO MANY different things.

Best Ways to Quiet a Crying Child

1 – Bribery. I recommend skipping all other methods and going straight to this one. But if you’re a first-time parent, and still have a conscience, try out some of the others. Just for kicks.

2 – Threats. Not recommended. Eventually the kids get so jaded to threats that you have to increase the level of threat to something akin to Homeland Security’s Threat Level: Red, just to get them to brush their teeth.

3 – Ignore. This one is surprisingly effective. But you look like a complete idiot of a parent. People walk by frowning and whispering to one another, “That poor child!” or “What a lousy parent!” or “Is that guy deaf?”

4 – Young children can be placed in their car seat on top of the dryer. The cycling, bumping sound puts them to sleep. This is not recommended. Or even legal. And we never, ever, ever did this.

5 – Take them for a drive. This sometimes works, unless your child is in the stage where they hate sitting in their car seat even more than they hate sitting in a pile of manure. Which does not put them to sleep. No matter how warm.

6 – Read Leviticus to them. This comes with a guarantee: someone will fall asleep.

7 – Give them a pacifier. I can hear some of you without children exclaiming, “But they look stupid!” or “But what about the thousands of dollars of orthodontic bills down the road?” To which I reply, “Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would pay thousands of dollars for a full night’s sleep. A pacifier seemed a small price to pay in the moment.”

8 – If the child’s not yours, just walk away. Get far enough away, and the crying stops. This one works every time.

9 – Hug them. Saved the best for last. This one works both ways (ie ways to quiet a crying parent)

So anyone out there have better ideas? I need one more to complete the list…