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The Boring Ways of Jesus

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Boooorrrrrriiiinnnngggg (is that how you spell it?)! It is so so boring. Incredibly boring. At the very least it’s plain ol’ boring. It is. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Yet we churchy people think it’s cool (we do). There are books upon books (many of which I own and continue to purchase) written about it, there are whole conferences dedicated to it (of which I wish to attend), there are whole movements predicated on it (Grassroots Conspiracy anyone?), and yet it’s the most ordinary thing in the world. Some might say it is even a bit boring.

Christians call it missional living. Other people probably call it something more along the lines of being a nice person. I call it ordinary. (ok, I called it boring, but that was more just for sensationalism…feeling sensational anyone?)

Let me explain my thoughts a bit.

The idea of living missionally is very exciting to most Christians because it invites us into a way of life, a way of doing church, a way of following Jesus that’s not weird or creepy feeling. Evangelism, as we’ve understood it for many years, has felt weird and a bit creepy. At the very least it’s felt coercive–and most of us don’t want to be salespeople (even for something that we believe very strongly in). Living missionally, as I think it is understood, is all about the Great Commission’s phrase “…go and make disciples” which more rightly is translated “…as you are going make disciples…” or in other words: go about your business and live in such a way so that people see Jesus, fall in love with him, and see reason to dedicate their existence to his love movement (there’s some interpretation happening here obviously). That’s my off the cuff definition of missional living–and I think it’ll work well for us here. As a way of life I think most of us would agree that it sounds quite appealing. As a matter of fact it is essentially the underpinning idea that the Grassroots Conspiracy movement is built on. We dig that way of life and think that a movement founded on it in radical ways just might be an exciting experiment to create. And so we have. (or we are in the process of it…creating it, that is.)

Here’s the interesting thing: lots of Christians from outside our circle are intrigued by what we’re doing at Grassroots. They want to be a part in some way, they want to send their youth group to do a mission trip with us, they want to partner with us in ways that will get their church people excited and living on mission, they want to be involved!

But (isn’t there always a but?) the Grassroots movement is really pretty boring. Right? Isn’t it? And so is living missionally. Right? Do you realize what it means to live missionally? I mean, seriously, in reality have you caught the implications of what missional living demands from you? Practically speaking think about what it would look like for someone from outside your world to come and participate in your “missional living”!*

Missional living demands that you listen to people (and actually remember what they said to you!), it demands that you show hospitality, that you’re willing to receive hospitality, that you slow your life down enough to borrow a cup of sugar from a neighbor, that you go to the same restaurants repeatedly so you can get to know people, it means you sit on your front porch and drink coffee, it means you’re home more nights than you’re gone (how else will you be available to neighbors?), it means that you take your dog for walks, it means that you attend people’s parties, essentially it means that you live a life of availability to others. IF you ever get to do something seemingly spectacular: organize a food drive, throw a block party, volunteer at a soup kitchen, etc. it is usually BECAUSE of your willingness to listen people around you into free speech. And THROUGH your listening you and your friend discover needs that should to be responded to. It is that posture of responsiveness that gives missional living it’s more exciting bent at times, but it usually follows the boring process of availability. Right?

Did you notice how boring all of that is? If you send your youth group to work with us do you realize what they’d be doing? They’d be doing my dishes (you’ve got to do something as you’re slowing your life down, being a good parent/spouse, and being available to neighbors), or they’d be sipping coffee with me at Mon Ami (’cause that’s where me, my friends, and my neighbors hang out!), or they’d be walking my dog down the street around the same time every day. Here’s the trick: it is in the ordinary things of life that God does the extraordinary. God thrives in ordinary, I mean come on(!) the guy was born in a feeding trough and raised by a poor teenage mom! Talk about extraordinary things emerging from the ordinary! Jesus was a carpenter…shoot, even the idea that Jesus had a nine to five is incredibly ordinary! And yet JC was anything but ordinary.

Extraordinary emerging from the ordinary–that’s what missional living is all about–the spectacular emerging from the routine of every day life. If I defined missional living as: going about your business and living in such a way so that people see Jesus, fall in love with him, and see reason to dedicate their existence to his love movement. Then a working description of what it looks like would be just that: the spectacular emerging from the routine of everyday life.

And by “spectacular” or “extraordinary” what I am referring to are those simple and beautiful stories of people falling in love with Jesus and the Jesus way. They are stories of the “gospel” that Christians speak of actually becoming good news to those around them. ‘Cause if it’s not news that is tangibly good then what is it?

So get ready to be bored. Do what you’ve got to do to slow down a bit, be available, listen, show hospitality, be a recipient of other’s hospitality, respond, dialog, remember, be a learner, be a lover, show compassion–read the stories of Jesus and be fascinated by the Jesus way. Study him and allow his radically (often times ordinary) existence to inform your ordinary (hopefully becoming more radical) existence. At Grassroots Conspiracy we are a developing collection of partners who are committing to a way of life together that is marked by the Jesus way. In virtually every aspect we are ordinary boring people but we are attempting to live out an existence that is marked by the simply radical ways of Jesus. What happens after or around that is beyond us, it’s beyond me. But I do know that there is something tangibly beautiful about a collection of people who are wholly sold out to practicing the ways of Jesus together. Many people call it the church. We’re calling it a movement (though we anticipate a church one day emerging). My friends probably call it being nice. I’ve been accused of calling it boring (or did I say boooooorrrrriiiinnnnggg?). Call it what you want, but give it a chance and I bet it’ll blow your mind.

 

* I hesitate to even talk about it like this because it begins to make it weird. I fear that it makes my friends feel weird when I talk about it like this. Am I loving them because I’m simply trying to “live missionally”? When I have them over for dinner am I just trying to “missionalize them” (yes, I made that word up)? The reality is that it gets weird anytime you talk openly about things, about motivations, etc. So, yes, this is a bit awkward. But please know (friends) that what this means is that I’m just trying to follow the ways of Jesus through the (sadly) radical practices of hospitality, listening, responsiveness, compassion, etc. I put words like “missional” to it so that we can have communication and invite others into this way of life. Sorry that it makes it weird. Just know that I’m the weird one…you’re not.

Our Dating Story

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Don’t tell anyone (as if its not already clear) but Jess and I are hardcore nerds. Yes, that’s right, we both grew up homeschooled. I even grew up a preachers kid. As teenagers when we were doing the Running Start program at our local community college (where high school students take college classes) my dad would drop us both off either in a church van or in a beater truck that was painted like a solar system. I didn’t get my licensee until I was seventeen. Jess didn’t wear jeans to church until she was like thirteen. I could attempt to convince you more, but I don’t see the point. My guess is that you’re already convinced…and, oh, how I’ve just begun.

Neither of us dated much. Jess had one boy friend that could be considered legit. I technically dated two girls before Jess…I think I may have held their hands once. Lets just say it never got hot and heavy and there wasn’t much depth to the ‘relationships’!

Essentially we are both of our first loves. As an eight year old Jess journaled about me as her “hunk”. I think early on had I journaled about her it would have been as my “best friends annoying little sister”. But oh how things change!

We fell in like over my last few years of high school. Jess’ brother moved away and I (relationally) moved in. I started to see this girl for who she was, not as a little sister but as a genuine hottie. Jess claims she always knew that I was a hottie and was just biding her time. As is the case for most of you, I’m certain, your first venture into sharing your love for your new bff was via email. Right? Isn’t that how guys and girls do it these days? So I wrote Jess an email proclaiming my love for her in not so many words. Over time we decided that there would be no reason to date unless we were going to get married (remember, we’re still acne riddled fifteen/sixteen year olds right now). So what did we do? We talked to our parents of course!

“Mom, dad, I really like Jessica and I was wondering if you thought she was someone that I might one day marry?”

 

…crickets…

 

“We were thinking about dating but we didn’t want to do it unless it might one day lead to marriage. And we wanted our parents approval and advice”

 

…crickets…

 

(I’m sure my parents said something but it was the verbal equivalent to…crickets…which could probably be translated as “my son is effing nuts. What is he talking about and why is my nerdy little boy talking about getting married? Maybe the kid should get his drivers license first!”)

Jess did the same thing with her parents and received about the same type of response. I don’t remember chronologically how things happened next, but it was on January 1 of Y2K that we started officially dating.

Our first kiss was at Scarpelli Hall. What is Scarpelli Hall? Well it’s only one of Clark Community Colleges buildings with one of the nicest waiting rooms on campus! Plush blue chairs, little to no privacy, pop machine, foot traffic. What more could a boy ask for? And remember this: I’ve never kissed a girl before in my life (mom, sisters, aunts–you don’t count). I think the scene went a little something like this:

Me: Hey Jess I’d really like to kiss you. I’ve never kissed a girl before and I think that I deserve to finally do so. I’m kind of a dweeb and I don’t really know how to…

 

Jess: quietly sings ‘hush little baby don’t say a word…”

 

Me: (I begin my pucker about ten inches away from any known face in the region and slowly move in)

 

Jess: (She quickly cuts the distance between my long pucker and her mouth by kissing me in a more appropriate fashion)

 

Me: (in shock and surprise I receive a real kiss.)

 

Some kid from some unknown science class lights off sparklers and dances around us as another student lights off some mortars in the background to celebrate my first kiss and, more importantly, OUR first kiss.*

So we started dating in January and it was in July that I moved to Lubbock, TX and eventually Lisbon, Portugal. For two years we did the long distance thing. Jess spent lots on phone cards (lots!). I spent lots of time charging my phone. We wrote letters, we made each other videos. We made lots of gifts. From pillows with my smell on it, to ugly shirts with my face. From her sending my whole Lubbock class (about fifty of us) home made cookies and gifts to her sending me specially made journals to write her back in. We did the long distance thing well. All the while, however, knowing that it was a long shot that it’d last. We tried to break up numerous times but it just never worked. We just couldn’t do it. We knew we were made for each other.

There was no one else like Jess. Seriously. I traveled the world, I sailed on the Greek Mediterranean seas only to discover that the only woman for me, the only woman who would do, the only woman who had ever capture my heart was the woman waiting for me back in the ‘Couve. Loving long distance was miserable but probably the best thing that ever could have happened for the two of us. It forced us to get to know each other in ways that we never could have experienced otherwise. We talked. And talked. A lot. What more do you have over an ocean than to talk or sing to each other? (yes, that’s right, she made me sing to her sometimes)

When I finally moved back things had changed. Jess was funnier than she had ever been before.** She was more confident as a person, more sure of who she was, and she was funnier (did I say that already?). She had new friends, she was more beautiful than before, and–oh, and I was different too. It took some adjustments but by September it was clear that we were still in this together and that the awkward request we put to our parents some three years prior was still right on. We were gonna get married. And so on the day before her October 4th birthday I surprised her and offered her a ring. And come June of the following year we tied the knott.

And we’ve never ever looked back.

 

* I may have embellished some of this portion of the story.

** Some would argue that she was always funny and that I only now realized or gave her credit for it. But only SOME say that.

Perfection or Maturity?

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I read this from my friend Ron yesterday and felt like I needed to repost it. While I don’t have the gift of being able to look back over fifty years of experience, I have had similar thoughts concerning men in general. I’ve been blessed to spend some of my life around guys who are great examples of what it looks like to die to yourself for the sake of others (first and foremost your wife and children) but I’ve also been shocked in my thirty years to see how many terrible fathers, husbands, and men I’ve seen who have chosen to live as children rather than grow up into mature, loving adults. Ron captures much of this tension in a really poignant way.

Ron shares:

Over the past few weeks since I passed 50 I have felt sadness and joy. I’m not looking for comfort or validation—just venting in this post.

Sadness over the fact that as I look at men my age or older I see those (some/many who claim to be followers of Jesus) who have failed to be the men that their wives, children, and community needed. Guys who have spent time with pornography, sexual affairs, physical and emotional distance from their kids, and tried to serve the almighty dollar or offered their lives on the altar of success. Even worse, many lived a life vastly different from the one they pledged to Jesus when they were baptized. I know that there are a lot of good men out there, but (and maybe it’s the job I do) over the past few years the “sins of the fathers” have hit me between the eyes. It hurts to get hit between the eyes, especially when you weren’t expecting it, or expected better from those around you. I know we are supposed to be patient, compassionate, and forgiving. But this has been exhausting. I spent many years as the “young Christian man” or the “young preacher” submitting to guys who reopened my father wounds. Sadly, there were very few elders or older ministers who I respected and was wanting to model in my own marriage and role as a father. It was like living with my dad all over again. Even worse, they used the same excuses, “Lighten up, we all make mistakes…” or “You still need to submit because we are older…” or my favorite, “No one’s perfect.” Oddly enough the Greek word used in the Bible for “perfect” is actually “mature.” I don’t think any of us were expecting perfection, just maturity.

 

I am sad for the many young people who have to experience this in their homes. I am sad for the many young ministers who will struggle with their faith and trust while preaching in a church—I was mouthy, at times. I probably made it clear on a number of occasions that, “I don’t respect you but I will do what I’m told.” Unfortunately we as a generation didn’t learn from the “sins of the fathers” but have somehow repeated them in our own lives. This is the danger of young people with “father wounds” being lead by other wounded men, there is no healing and infection spreads from one generation to the next. Again, not everyone is infected and there are men I know who have healed and are great mentors for others. I know that God will continue to point them out to me as I grow older. It is interesting that many of these men share the same sadness I feel.

 

However, God has shown me the things that bring great joy. Joy in the work of this younger generation. I see young men and women, and God sends many to us, who want to struggle against the “sins of the fathers and mothers” to become the people God wants and that they need to be. While I hear older people tell me that they worry about the future of this generation, I actually am excited at what they can do, if we help them heal. If we are willing to lead them. If we are willing to be the men and women Jesus called us to be. If we are willing to repent of the sins of the fathers, our sins, and show them that getting older means influencing others for their good. Age doesn’t have to be an excuse to be cranky—it can be an opportunity to love people and live life with a passion. We don’t need wounded healers, we need healed, mature men and women. I see younger people rising up to take the challenge that Jesus has laid before us to help people heal. The future is exciting, but it can only happen if they have mentors who today model what the young people can be, or want to be, or even aspire to be.

 

Just my thoughts.

I couldn’t agree more Ron.

Why I’m a Little Confused

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It makes me laugh even as it regularly confuses me. You see, I fall asleep constantly. For example, as I watched the new Batman movie the night before last night I fell asleep at least six times throughout the epic film (while watching it on one of the largest screens known to mankind). I can fall asleep at any given moment in any context. It’s been amusing to be sitting on the front row of a venue where I’m about to speak only to find myself fighting to stay awake! Shouldn’t I be nervously alert and wide awake at those moments? How about while I’m getting pushed around a grocery store in a wheelchair? How about as i’m in a conversation with my wife about important things?! Don’t worry, though, Jess doesn’t take it personally, she realizes that it’s a combo of pure exhaustion, medications, and actual sickness. She knows she’s not boring (clearly she’s not boring!).

I just. I just fall asleep. Everywhere. Anywhere. All the time. Right now….

…

Here’s the funny part though, because I live in a constant sleep/awake state and because the sleep that occurs is instantaneously a very deep deep sleep–I often am unaware of what is real and what has been a dream. No joke. No exaggeration.

Just last night I commented to my mom about how many weeds had popped up in our front yard overnight! I mean, seriously, it had turned in a virtual weed-locked mess out there…oh, wait, nope…yeah, that was a dream wasn’t it? Crap. Never mind mom.

Or the other day I told Jess about seeing Southwest Washington’s famous Dave at the oncology clinic. I started to tell her about it and then we both laughed ’cause we both quickly realized that it was a dream. Ha, Dave doesn’t go to my oncology clinic! Silly Ryan is getting dreams and reality mixed up again…until we were there a few days later and there was Dave at my oncology clinic! Turns out this one wasn’t a dream! How’s a boy to know?!

Over and over again I start sentences and stories with Jess only to realize that they never really happened. To be honest it’s often a little disappointing ’cause they’re usually interesting things to talk about. I wish I were crazy enough to get confused about big awesome things like aliens coming to earth or apple pies growing in our garden or Cheez-its coming out with a new flavor, or something fantastic like that. But, no, it’s usually more connected to a new stretch mark that turned green or our car getting dented or or our towels all getting bleached or…or something simple like that. But it’s still just the weirdest and strangest thing to live in this mystery of what is real and what isn’t. It’s a bit disconcerting but honestly more awesome than anything else. It’s a power that I’m glad my wife doesn’t abuse (could you imagine the power she could wield over me?!)–Actually, hmm, what if she were to constantly play it up? What if she always threw fake things out there to mess with me? I’d be a mess…a hilariously confused mess! Hmm…this gives me an idea. A gift. A gift I could bequeath to my wife right here, right now, forevermore….

Here’s the official deal:

if I ever get to that place where I’m clearly dying soon and I’m practically in a  veggitized state I hereby give my wife permission to confuse me with my own ‘dreams’. Hear ye hear ye let this officially be known: Jessica Woods has my permission to do such dastardly deeds without the social ramifications of being considered a jerk in any way whatsoever. This will allow Ryan in his last days to still be a part of something fun and amusing–to which he will be forever grateful. Let it be so.

 

Yours Truly,

Ryan Woods

Stealin’ a Blog: How to Suck at your Religion

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In my opinion it is so incredibly important to be able to laugh at yourself at times–even (and especially) things that you value. Granted there are many things that are inappropriate to make light of but in my (very humble) opinion faith in Jesus is not one of them. (He did, if I’m not mistaken, create humor in the first place. I think he likes a good joke)

So while I don’t agree with EVERYTHING written in the sarcastic article linked below…it makes some pretty flippin’ awesome points that are both funny, offensive, and…yes, dead on.

Enjoy.

http://theoatmeal.com/comics/religion