imagine/Northampton is Planted, (Check); Now What's Next?

Lately, I've been wrestling with a different set of issues from the ones I wrestled with in planting imagine/Northampton. We've been in Northampton for 4 years now. The Eagle has landed so to speak. I don't talk about planting imagine/Northampton anymore. It's planted.

The questions I'm asking and the concerns I'm working on are different now. When imagine became more than a "What if we could . . .?", or "Is God calling us to . . .?" idea, the questions were:

Where do we begin? Who do we need to learn from?

How do you actually do this?

What will it look like?

What will each of our roles be?

What will imagine's culture look like?

What are our core values?

Can we pay for and sustain the planting?

How will all the critical pieces take shape?

Those first days, weeks and months were a heady, exciting period. We weren't experts at this. We were older, and all sorts of challenges lie ahead with no assurance beyond faith we could pull off any of it. We were starting from scratch. Nothing existed, but a longing, and a compelling idea.

But today, I think there are different questions to answer and challenges to meet. For me, the most crucial  has become centered around how do you deepen and ignite a movement, rather than maintain an organization or build an institution? The "danger" I see at this point in our young life as a church is settling into equilibrium. It happens subtly, almost imperceptibly for many. We have an established identity and church culture with "rituals" (albeit simple), core beliefs, structures (also simple), and commonly held ways of relating. Imagine/Northampton looks and acts a certain way. The problem arises when who we are and how we relate internally becomes our raison d' etre. We settle for the groove we've gradually created.

Before I go further, let me explain what I mean by "equilibrium" related to church. In general, I mean a church's central focus slowly settles into how to sustain internal relationships, values, systems, protocols, programs and cultures. To that end, we ask questions such as:

How can we make our Sunday Service better, more inviting and relevant to our people.

How can we make our building better meet our needs?

Where can we rev up Children's Ministry or revitalize our Men's Ministry?

How come we don't have a Healing Prayer Ministry?

When can we do something about the Nursery to make it more inviting?

How can we ramp up giving?

How can we get a tighter hold on the budget?

We need more small groups and small group curricula. Who can we get to make that happen?

The Worship Team sounds a little tired. How can we get them to kick it up a notch?

How can we get more volunteers, produce better outreach events, offer more Bible study, entice greater attendance on Sunday and on and on?

Equilibrium is the church sinking gradually into managing and maintaining itself. The focus is us, becoming an end in itself. We manage or improve what we have and what we've become. What's wrong with that?

Now don't misunderstand me. Any of those questions can be important to consider from time to time, especially within a larger Kingdom context. I know people need to be healed, taught, cared for, and involved.there are plenty of practical "management issues to address in the on-going life of a church community. Internal matters need attention, but only in light of keeping our forward movement vibrant for what God calls us to in his mission.

So for the last few months, I've been growing unsettled, out of sorts spiritually and motivationally; something seemed consistently out of kilter. The feeling was/is disorienting, as if I'm in one of those liminal states again where I've passed through a stage of my particular journey to a place of unformed potential needing shaping. I didn't like where I was. Adding to the dissonance has been the niggling sense that what I seek lies just out of reach. True, but the feeling won't stop pestering me. 

Recently, however, very different questions have surfaced in my head; they all gather around our stated vision:

Building Kingdom-focused communities which creatively engage the culture to help 

people discover and follow the God who is far more than they imagine.

In an earlier blog I detailled imagine/Northampton's vision: 

 http://oldmenplantingchurches.blogspot.com/2011/10/imaginenorthamptons-visionation-meeting.html

Hence, the new questions center on the words: building, Kingdom focused, and creatively engage. For instance:

Are we really building (developing) a Kingdom-focused communitas where the Missio Dei has become compelling in us all? If so, how? How does that "compelling" play out in our daily lives? What do we need to do better? Where are we mis-aligned with it, and thinking we aren't? Where are we treading water, but feel like we're moving forward? Where are we resisting?

Are we creatively engaging the culture or do we just talk about  it as if we are? In actuality, does it really matter to us - to what degree or in what way? What do we need to change or dismantle to get to really serving the creative community in Northampton? Can we innovate or engage creatively; is it even in us?

Where might we be slipping slowly into being church with a few quirky community habits expressed in worship, or how we do groups, or the language we use? One person said in response to my question about how Sunday worship was at imagine by using the word "routine." Yikes!!! I don't like the sound of that, but might we be drifting into the well-worn "rut of the gradual familiar?" Most churches do. Then, the creatives and innovators who might be attending end up having little or no influence in the church culture. Losing their out-of-the-box voices heightens the inevitability of equilibrium - a kiss of death in my mind.

How common is it for we imagineurians to work hard at helping people discover and follow the God who is far more than they imagine? Where are the stories we are telling each other about what God did in so-and-so's life because we helped her discover him? There have been a few, but would a guest get the sense by being in our midst that helping people this way is truly at the core of our DNA because of the stories we tell each other when we gather, and the evidence of new life?

So it seems to me that if we're going to do what our vision says we're about, one of the ways we need to go about it is by beginning taking seriously the call to replicate who we are, i.e., begin laying the groundwork for planting other imagine churches, whether they begin in homes and neighborhoods, adjacent towns on Main Street, or cities in New England and beyond. I suspect such a notion probably feels grandiose, but is it really in light of the Scriptures and how the first Christians set the example of, at great cost and risk, going out into the world to make disciples and teach them what Jesus commands all his followers to be and do? Are we exempt from this call? These folks were not professionals, yet they changed the world through the indwelling Holy Spirit, because they, by vigorous faith,  followed the living Christ in his redemptive mission. They saw it as a mandate, privilege and duty--the normal Christian way of life.

We certainly have had our share of trials and troubles here in Northampton, and we don't have a lock on how to do this thing (it often seems more like one step forward and two steps back many times), but we're planted, and there is a small group of gifted, wonderful people gathered in this church. 

Potential abounds. Yet it needs to be focused, vivified, and set free as a vibrant culture of collaborators with one heart and mind centered on God's glory, the furthering of his ways, and freeing blind captives wandering about. We look to make it happen, and will be spending time and energy doing so in the days ahead.

When Toasted is Where You've Arrived.

I wrote this a few weeks ago, but I don't feel the same way as I did. I'm not completely out of the woods though. My reason for writing was to describe what it felt like. It was an authentic portrayal of what was going on. I'm making changes and recovering. Just so you know. Also, my father-in-law died a few days after writing this as well. Being with family took the emotional focus off me. It helped.

 I'm sitting in one of the front bedrooms of my mother-in-law's lovely family summer house in Ventnor, New Jersey. We've spent many a summer vacation here. On vacation here we are again.

To be completely honest, I can't remember when I've needed a two-week summer vacation more than this one. In fact, I've gone along without a substantial vacation at all beyond a jam-packed week, a day here or a long weekend there. It's not been unusual for me to work extended strings of week's with no day-off whatsoever. The flow of my work has lent itself to such a pace as rule. Nobody but me is requiring it.

But what I've been experiencing feels different, and very uncomfortable.

I realized a few weeks back I'd headed into a spiritual, emotional, psychological, creative, mental and relational vacuum people euphemistically refer to as being toasted (I'm using the slang term in the sense that most of my internal circuits are fried, not in the sense I'm higher than a kite, or I'm going to die). Here's what it's felt like the last month or so:

1. I am tired, really spent on many levels.

2. I'm emotionally at my limit in terms of how much I can navigate people's (non-counseling related) stuff right now. I've never been there before to this degree. The reality is, I have fumes in the emotional IQ tank right now. At the worst, it has been traumatizing of late for me to be around painful people stuff. (What has been able to neutralize the negative effects some is the life I see in very talented imagineurians who are stepping to the plate and owning the work we share). Such a response is still living a dream for me.

3. I turned off my sense of humor; it's not safe to let it respond naturally; sometimes people get hurt when I do. I can't remember experiencing that before.

4. My creative juices seem congealed, so there is little insight or imagining taking place. It feels just not present.My left-brain is standing guard, so my right brain is quiet.

5. My mind has no savor for problem-solving or thinking through a difficult issue. In fact, it feels on autopilot, skimming the surface of what I perceive, never landing anywhere for a closer look.

6. Playing music for me is flat and uninspiring of late with the exception of practicing mechanics. In fact, my drumming is less creatively "playful" or adventurous than I'm capable.

7. I have meager patience, transactional flexibility, forbearance, and ""roll with the punches latitude giving" than is characteristic of me. My nerves jangle and over-fire unpleasantly way too much.

8. I find myself longing repeatedly to be away in the woods, sitting by a lake or the ocean, driving up north into Vermont, prayerwalking in the very early morning with Tricia, or standing atop a peak looking at a breathtaking vista.

9. I've noticed I'm more jazzed when reading about ministry innovation than ministering in the trenches day in and day out. I care, but I'm empty.

Just so you know,  having been seriously depressed at least once in my life, I recognize the difference between what I'm experiencing of late, and the "slough of despond."  I'm not depressed. I'm just toasted at every circuit because of being way overexposed and foolishly overextended. Prudent guarding and balance were necessary, but absent.

The frustrating reality for me is I let the toasting creep up. I didn't notice the warning signs of growing irritability, anxiety flashes, emotional numbness, and protective withdrawal. I'm a counselor and can name that stuff  in others quickly, but sadly be utterly oblivious to the subtle changes wrapping my heart. I deeply believe in what God has called us to do in Northampton and gave 110%. Neither imagine/Northampton nor the Kingdom mission God has given needs or requires my 110%. For my part, it needs me to be submitted to Christ, and wise about how much I can give and how often, so as to stay the course for as long as he has me involved. Prematurely flaming out and toasting is just foolish and sinful.

So getting to be away here in Ventnor with Tricia, Dan and Lindsay and their beautiful family (including new baby granddaughter, Piper Rose) and later in the week, daughters Eslie and Alyn, is a balm and a sanctuary. I'm nobody recognizable here. I just get to be a 63 year-old husband, father and grandfather: walking on the boardwalk, being at the beach, swimming, having great meals together, sitting on the front porch under the awnings; walking at sun-up and/or sunset with Tricia, playing with my full-of-life grandchildren, hanging out with my kids, riding bikes, napping, reading, eating ice cream, and doing nothing is what I need right now. Grace abounds!

I do want the missional and creative juices flowing again, but with more sensibility, releasing and wisdom. I let me get ahead of myself (and Jesus I suspect) way too often. I will seek balance and rest to make sure I don't put myself in the toaster again. I want a long race, not a 220 ending with a blown Achille's tendon..

And my more artistic self needs to stumble again upon startling beauty all around me, touch the smoothed edges of perfect symmetry; smell the fresh breezes of  life made living by the Life waiting with the door ajar and the light on; taste the richest flavors of unsullied goodness; and be stopped in my sorry tracks by the poetry of illimitable hope.

I'll get there, but in a different way I suspect, than I've yielded to up to now.

imagine/Northampton's Newest Video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=c1oi8_ofplA

Check out our latest video describing who we are, what God is doing in our midst, and how people are being affected. Love to hear your thoughts!

Peace.

Two Hours With Ned.

I'll call him Ned. He has two other names: one given at birth and one he's given himself.

I've been around him for most of the time we've been here. He's on the street, but for periods of time he disappears. He looks to be in his mid-30's. He's a gentle soul which comes through most of the time. I wonder why he's on the street. For most, it's because of addiction and/or mental illness. For some of the youngest ones being on the street is a summer of "walking on the wild side," and being free from life's responsibilities for a while.

Anyhow, days ago, Ned was at  his usual place soliciting change with his cardboard sign (mandatory gear for the homeless in Northampton). As I normally do, I walked by and asked how he was. He mumbled something about being in a car accident. He has a bike and was hit on Pleasant Street a few days before. He showed me a swollen ankle. I asked him if he'd had it looked at. Ned said emphatically "no!" I'd later find out why.

Later that day, I was heading to a meeting in another town. Ned was still at his usual place. He didn't look good. I was in a bit in a hurry, but stopped. I asked if it was his ankle. He mumbled, looking down, "It hurts so f---ing bad." I said again he had to get to the hospital. He looked me directly and said," I HATE f---ing hospitals. They scare me." I said I understand, but "Your ankle might be fractured. It's not going to go away." He looked away and nodded his head. I told him I would take him to the hospital. He shook his head "no." Right then, two guys he seemed to know showed up and handed him a slice of pizza. I had to leave, but I repeated my offer. He wouldn't budge.

As I headed to the car, I prayed that if God wanted me to help him, he would create another encounter. I couldn't force the situation, but I've always felt a tug toward Ned. Perhaps he was a "son of peace," like Jesus refers to in Luke 10 when sending out the 72.

Well, the very next day, after I'd  gone to Hopkinton to fetch Tricia and meet our newest granddaughter, Piper Rose, we were heading from our car to the apartment to drop off Tricia's luggage and then grab a bite to eat in town. As we sometimes do, we decided to take the Kirkland Avenue shortcut. It's a dismal stretch of dumpsters, graffiti, discarded liquor bottles -- smelling of urine and garbage. It also feels spiritually dark. As we entered, I looked to my left, and there between two dumpsters was Ned. I knew this was the answer to yesterday's prayer. I also knew we had to help him. He was in excruciating pain, grimacing with the smallest of movements. He complained he could not stand on it at all. It was true. He couldn't. The pain was written on his face. He was hyperventilating also because of pain and fear. He'd say a number of times, holding up his hand, "Give me a minute," until both subsided. It was sad. He was sitting amidst the garbage as if he is discarded garbage too.

Both Tricia and I told him he had to go to the hospital to get his injury treated, and we'd take him. He have kept shaking his head "no" repeating he was afraid and hated hospitals. He added to it that he preferred to his entire foot cut off. He would repeat this "solution," even in the hospital. Ned looked and felt utterly miserable. We affirmed that he was afraid and felt alone, but we would go and stay with him until he got treated. Assuring him so calmed him and he agreed to go. We packed him and his backpack (1 of 2 possessions besides his clothes, the other being a decrepit bike), into the rear seat.

We dropped off Tricia's stuff and got crutches we'd kept since her fall on the stairs. Carefully, we were able to get him in the car. I could smell alcohol on his breath. I assumed it was his way of numbing the pain. I also knew he had a drinking problem from word on the street. They all know each others junk intimately, and are quite free to share it, almost with glee sometimes.

All the way to the hospital he apologized for inconveniencing us. He let us in on the fact he hates asking anyone for anything. Over and over, he'd also return to his preference of having them cut off his foot (problem solved in his mind), and that he really, really hated "f---ing hospitals."  He'd suffered serious burns on both legs 12 years before and was in hospital for over as month. Apparently, he'd had an earlier and equally traumatic stay before the burns incident. He truly was terrified about the prospect of going. We promised we'd walk through the entire ordeal with him. Again, he'd calm for a minute, then we'd go through the whole dialogue again.

The ride to Cooley Dickinson took just 10 minutes. We got him admitted with no glitch. I called imagine folks to get prayer going.When he got into an examination room his anxiety heightened; he was agitated, ripping off the ID bracelet they put on folks in the ER, complaining about everything. He'd go in and out of the fear. We kept praying silently and offering comfort. Soon he was whisked away to X Ray to assess the scope of the damage. He didn't like it, but a very patient and persistent X Ray Technician gradually got him to cooperate. We could hear her from outside the X Ray room.

It was only 10 minutes before the Doc came into his room with the good news that nothing was broken, but he had a bad sprain. A nurse came in with an ace bandage and a soft cast. She helped him put it on. She was gentle and resourceful. He made a big deal about "hating crutches," and would not use them, no way. We'd left ours in the car. She gently overcame his resistance. His choice was one crutch and one cane. Gradually, he calmed because this terrifying part of the ordeal was coming to an end. Soon we were out the door. He tried to do a wheelie with the wheelchair. I cut that short and got him in the car.

Driving back (he wanted to go to his home -- the space between the dumpsters), I mentioned the Doc said he could have over-the-counter painkillers. I told him we'd get them for him. He responded with an adamant "no." Ned looked me right in he eye and said, "I have my own painkiller." Then he looked away, repeating how hard it is to ask for anything, but soon blurted out, "I need five dollars for a pint." I told him we can't do that; it was a matter of conscience for us. He didn't press it, and apologized for asking.

Back at his "home" he was overwhelmed with gratitude. He said we were people "with big hearts,"; "we were now family." He called me a "father-figure," and hugged me for about a minute. I'd never hugged a homeless man before. He smelled terrible, but it felt a holy moment to me. I doubt he's hugged much. I told him his life mattered. I didn't know how he got where he was, but he was a person and it was our privilege to help him. I told him God cared and people were praying for him. He said he didn't believe in God, but was grateful for our kindness. He asked for my number because I told him I wanted to help sort through his life and see if he could get back on his feet. Earlier he told me he'd been a landscaper. Maybe he could do that again if he could deal with his stuff and find God in the process.

I realize the entire experience was full of God at his initiative. I know God is pursuing Ned. I'm sure the process of recovery would not be easy at all, but if he wants to try, I'm ready to help. God can and does do miracles

Amazing to me was God honored my prayer and we got to make a difference. Being with him for an hour or so gave me fresh insight into homeless people who are addicts. They're fiercely independent and expect little from others. They have been injured emotionally; fear and anger influence them profoundly. They've suffered loss, abandonment and dehumanization. Ned said he'd lost his father and brother and missed them terribly. He also let me know he responds when treated like someone who matters. His self-absorption is a survival skill, not cultivated arrogance and meanness. He has a heart and craves human connection.

People like Ned is one of the reasons imagine/Northampton is planted on Main Street. Helping him was another step toward serving Christ in people like him (Matthew 25:31-46). Jesus says those who follow him will do so. His Kingdom example has to be our Kingdom mission.

I didn't see Ned yesterday, but I hope to today. I hope he'll call me too.

Simple Missional Questions to Ask Ourselves All the Time.

1. How in your life do you see folks around you encountering Jesus through you?

2. How do you incarnate his love so that people in your sphere of influence want to know him?

3. Would anyone be inspired to follow him by the way you live?

4. Besides indirect evidence of your religious or spiritual practices (going to church, praying, reading the Scriptures, etc.) does anyone not a Christian know why you follow him?

Take frequent time to reflect on these questions and listen for his "still, small voice." Thank him for evidence of him working through you if he has, but also ask him to "make you able" if you've little evidence of his working through you missionally of late or perhaps ever.

The hour is late.

Of Baptisms, Tag Sales, and Missions Fairs.

In the last couple of months, we've had opportunities to experience new life-together stuff. Each a bit different, but all a part of how we're wending our way though the missional life we have together in imagine/Northampton.

Nhung Bui's Baptism:

In April, we had the joy of celebrating our second baptism. Nhung Bui, a graduating senior at Smith College had been coming to imagine for a number of months. She was part of the Intervarsity Christian Fellowship at Smith, and imagineurian, Crystal Fryer, the full-time Staff Worker there, invited her to our group. We grew in relationship with her, and she felt at home with us. She'd become a believer a year earlier, but was ready to be baptized. She wanted us to do it.

So on a bright, sunny Sunday morning after church we headed over to Puffer's Pond on the Smith Campus for the sacrament. Tricia and I had the honor of baptizing her. It was the first time for us doing it together. A number of students and friends showed up, including some who were not believers, but were curious and wanted to support her. I was glad to see so many, including our friends David and Anne Hulley who've had a major Christian influence on young women at Smith for years.

So down into the murky water we went about 12 feet out from the bank. It was a tad slimy and the cold water immediately let us know we were alive! I took a minute to explain the meaning of what we were about to do, asked her a couple of questions for her to affirm she knew what she was doing, and then Tricia and I gently laid her briefly under the surface of the water. When we lifted her back up, everyone applauded, and she was smiles from ear to ear. Back on the bank there were hugs and pictures, especially with the women in her house group.

After, we headed back for our monthly Pot-of-Grace meal as part of the celebration. Later that week, we gave her a Bible and some other gifts to remember imagine/Northampton by. It was all lovely.

What struck me was the beauty and grace abounding in this sacrament. Love and Life were evident each step of the way. We had the privilege of celebrating the reality that Nhung had committed her life to Jesus at her conversion, and now was publicly testifying to that truth with unbelieving friends and committed brethren. The Kingdom shone through at the pond for a few minutes that day. We all at imagine hope God will grant us more baptisms and often!

Nhung will begin her graduate studies at Princeton in the fall. We hope to see her again.

The First imagine/Northampton Tag Sale:

As a few of you might be aware, we are considering moving to a building called the Round House in the fall. It's contingent somewhat on whether we can raise monies sufficient for the first year's lease ($46,200) -- at least, that's the thinking right now. So a couple of weekend's ago we had our first all-church tag sale to begin the process. Many of us gathered our stuff for sale and hauled it over to Jenn Swick's and Kait Brink's apartment, It was Kait's idea to have the event, and they graciously offered the yard  and porch of their apartment to hold it. The location was good.

So we had the usual assortment of books, clothes, toys, knick-knacks, records, some baked goods, and various other used household items. As they always do, the dealers came first, looking for particular things. They didn't stay long. Soon after, all manner of people trickled by to browse. They bought stuff; $455 worth. Not bad for a first try.

While I was happy for the results, I most enjoyed all of us being together in a common effort, getting a chance to hang out and engage people. For instance, I got to know Wednesday (her nickname), better. Tricia and I stayed for about 2 1/2 hours, then left, returning in early afternoon to help clean up. I was also pleased to know people inquired about who imagine/Northampton was, and what we were about. It's always important to help our neighbors put faces with names; such connecting breaks down barriers, particularly with how folks in this community view Christians. Neighborhood tag sales let us engage people on a common ground. We all have tag sales at times. We all buy stuff. The community gathers around a mutually beneficial transaction, and conversation happens.

Good stuff for missional relationship building. The Kingdom has a face. Labels fade when relaxed talk happens around the common good, shared reality and a bargain.

So we'll do more of this. If you know us, you know we have considerable talent around food, so I can see a smash-hit bake sale in our future: "Hazelnut Peach Frangipane Tart anyone? Oh you want 2? Coming right up, madam!"


The Mission & Ministry Fair at THE BARN in Simsbury:

Yesterday, imagineurians Jim LaMontagne, Eslie McDermott, Dave & Karen Sweeney, Jenn Swick and Jon G. Hill traveled to The Barn in Simsbury for their Mission & Ministry Fair. It's was our home church (McDermott's, LaMontagne's & Bayne's) prior to coming up here. They have been supporting from the beginning.

The event was a great opportunity for us to have folks there meet some of our folks, and see the fruit of their support. Also, folks at the Barn are wonderful people and so are our imagineurians; they are related through us in a way. We also wanted our people to see the place where imagine/Northampton began as an idea, prayer, and dream. And the physical plant itself is quite beautiful just to experience. Jon mentioned more than once after seeing it all that we were "very fortunate." to have lived there for 20 years. Indeed we were.

The centerpiece of our presentation was a 7-minute video  generously created for us by Dave Sweeney with his partner, Marty Langford. They have a video production company called Viz-bang, www.viz-bang.com
and spent time with a number of us filming interviews, showing Northampton, and even giving glimpses of our jazz group1FlightUP, www.reverbnation.com/1flightup . As Dave says, it's "still a work in progress," but even now it communicates well how we understand ourselves and our mission from more than one person.

So we spent the 2 hours in the Celebration Hall talking with old friends and meeting some new folks. I was delighted to see other missional colleagues representing their work: Betty Means, Bob and Becky Cooley with AIM, Gary Moorehead with Marigold Fund, and Jeff Kraines with The Navigators, for instance. Catching up with people was satisfying, and seeing us all doing missional work in our own spheres of influence was heartening to me.

I also enjoyed talking to people about what we are doing. They asked intelligent questions which gave me a chance to respond about work which is a great passion for me. Telling the story of what God is doing in our midst and through our efforts together is how we connect them with imagine. I hope it inspired, and built their faith a bit.

Perhaps the most fulfilling was seeing Jim, Eslie, Dave, Jenn, Karen, and Jon representing our mission together to people they didn't know (Jim, was a member of the Barn, and Eslie, grew up on the property at the Center For Renewal). I feel such pleasure at witnessing imagineurians express a life-giving identity with our community, and the Kingdom mission we are undertaking together as we follow Christ in Northampton.

This stuff never gets old for me, whether lived out through imagine Baptisms, Tag Sales or Mission Fairs. I never thought I'd be any of this in the first place.

When the World Sparkles Enough That It Blinds, the Kingdom Fades to Gray.

One of the hardest, and sometimes most heart-breaking, experiences I've had in ministry, whether as a counselor or church leader has been when someone I have a relationship or am working with seems to gradually cool to Christ and his brilliant Kingdom mission. He or she quietly slips away, yielding a part or all of their heart to lesser joys and pastimes.

Over the years, I've come to understand unless what people pursue is disturbingly sinful to those who love them (abuse of drugs or alcohol, risky sexual habits, destructive irresponsibility such as not being able to hold a job because of willful immaturity, etc.), their progressing blindness often appears benign on the surface: a promising new relationship takes center stage, the long-sought-after job or career path opens and consumes the best of who they are, or family becomes the main source of life and well-being, for instance. Nobody's going off the deep end; they're just wandering away slowly because they can't see the Kingdom as their most compelling way of life

The central issue for me gathers around what the heart prefers as it's deepest longing and loyalty, pleasure and joy, meaning and purpose. We have the freedom to give our hearts to what is good or what is evil. All of us do this all of the time to varying degrees depending on how much we've embraced with conviction God's summons to holiness:  " . . . you shall be holy because I am holy." (1Peter 1:16) . He holds out this summons 24/7 if you're a Christ-follower. We move toward and away from this summons, but by the amazing grace of God, through steps forward and steps back over years, our spiritual momentum is toward him and what he cares for.

Nonetheless, I've heard people who eventually lost sight of the way say the whole Christian thing was too hard; they just couldn't be good enough.

I've known others who when confronted with their love of certain sins, and the need to turn aside from them, decided the price was too great.

A few took care of the salvation deal (yes, I believe), then lived as they pleased, confident that the salvation endgame was won; no need to go overboard with the religious stuff.

A scarier group of folks knew that they were rejecting Christ and didn't care. In fact, they became convinced it was all a load of baloney. They took the high ground of enlightened understanding, little aware they had lost the means to see reality.

So painful to me was the reality these folks were being given the opportunity to be loved, healed, and freed, but they kept looking elsewhere. Their blindness was gradual but insidious. 

I know the Scripture warns frequently about the terrifying dangers of falling away. Such knowledge sobers me. But I have a sadness for those who could not grasp the exquisite beauty of God, and his grace-drenched Kingdom. How tragic is the reality that some who are summoned say "no thanks," I like this stuff better. What a loss of potential for the Kingdom mission they were invited to.

How is it LOVE can be shoved aside for love? I get it that we can choose soul poison or medicine, but the stakes are astonishing. This world's sparkling unto blindness kills; the Kingdom faded gray is the ultimate of lies.

I think we Christians do not do anywhere near enough to reveal the brilliant shine of the freeing Kingdom reign and rule of God through the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We settle for ho-hum in our church cultures;. the routine is safe and manageable. Who among expects miracles? We think the power of God is for maintaining the mundane, not rolling away the stones from tombs.

I have to say, I've had the most disappointing experience of watching young believer's being slowly spiritually blinded by a cultural Christendom so boring, superficial and insular that they became convinced it was a feckless sham. Conversely, this world lures them constantly with endless promises of excitement, intense feeling, a steady diet of pleasure, and the promise of a good life (on their terms) free from anything that fetters you doing what you want, when you want, and how you want. It's dreck with a hidden death sentence.

When we all decide to follow Jesus at all costs into this jangly, sparkly world to manifest the brilliantly shining beauty of simple grace and the resurrecting power of love, I know the color of true life will return and dazzle those still able to see it.