h/t to Deacon Greg at The Deacon’s Bench.
Preparing for Today’s LA Congress Workshop
March 25, 2012 By 4 Comments
After yesterday’s workshop “Fishers of Men or Keepers of the Aquarium–Reclaiming Our Call to Minister to the Unchurched, Non churchgoing and Uninvolved” I received emails with questions and requests for specific content in today’s follow up session “What Got Us Here Wont Get Us There: The New Skills Needed for the New Evangelization.” Much of it wasn’t what I had planned to say and as odd as it sounds, I was pumped about that. My favorite part of every workshop, etc is Q & A. It is an opportunity for me to hear the actual needs of folks in the ministry trenches, and offer specific help within their specific situation. And often, we get to continue the dialogue via Facebook or email after the session if I deem the content not applicable to the larger audience.
Also, since I get asked this question a lot “How do you write your talks?” I figured this would be the best way to answer. As you can see I don’t “write them” I brain dump. After this brain dump in my notebook, I’ll try to order ideas, points and stories on a yellow legal sheet of paper–all the while deciding what to leave out. What doesn’t make it into the “presentation” is just as important as what does. Then I’ll write a about ten points on a note card or some other page in my notebook that I’ll refer to if necessary during my presentation. It is at this point, and not until this point, that I begin organizing, amassing visual/audio aids. Most often I use Keynote which is very light on words and image heavy. I use LOTS of slides…because they’re free! I always use 42 pt Impact font w/ black and red text on a white background because this is easiest to see even in poor lighting–which you can almost always count on–poor lighting.
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Prayer and Unmatched Socks
November 10, 2011 By 1 Comment
Prayer time often feels like an unsuccessful sifting through my basket of unmatched socks, saying “screw it”, throwing all of my unmatched socks in the trash 
and heading to Wal Mart to buy a new batch.
Today was much the same. Of the 50 minutes I sat on the couch in my office to pray my time was spent roughly like this:
20 minutes thinking about the stuff I have to get done.
3 minutes looking for the perfect pen and paper to record these interruptions.
2 minutes doodling because I’d forgotten what I wanted to remember.
5 minutes beating myself up for things that won’t get done or done to my perfectionist standards.
1 minute feeling guilty that my wife has to work and I don’t provide enough for her to stay home with our youngest son.
1 minute thinking about emails I received about my last article telling me how wonderful I am.
1 minute thinking about a recent Facebook post which prompted one person to message me suggesting I’ve forsaken my faith and God and were pretty sure I was on the verge of inventing a new heresy.
1 minute on my iPhone looking for an app on prayer.
Laughed when I thought about my friend choking on a piece of pizza last night when his mother in law greeted me saying “I hear you’re a renowned speaker. And then seeing my wife’s face which indicated she could substitute a number of other words for ‘speaker’ and knowing she’d be more correct.
Felt a sudden pain in my side and worried for several minutes I was having appendicitis.
Realized it was a result of the bologna sandwich, cheese puffs and diet coke I had slammed down for lunch in honor of my late cousin Howard–whom when we were four I allegedly (according to HIS mother) slammed a real phone over his head for finishing his cheese puffs and reaching into my plate and taking two of mine. Belly laughed out loud because I’d nearly done it again three years ago when we were 34.
Concluded I wasn’t praying well and I should do something productive.
Stood up and threw darts—missed the board, hit my damn diploma and sat back down to give God another chance.
Felt sad. Sensed God put his arm around me and say nothing.
Started to cry.
Stopped crying.
Sensed God say, “I’m really sorry about Howard.”
Nodded, and said “Its good to know you noticed and care.”
Felt awkward, thought about changing the subject to darts, but couldn’t bear to hear God validate the fact that I suck at darts.
Heard God say, “I know how much you loved him. I can’t imagine how much you miss him.”
Started crying again.
Got up to start working and said “I may not be here tomorrow, or the next day. And Sunday, as you know I focus more on the boys than I do you, so… maybe Monday?”
God smiled.
“But I may be back tomorrow, it just depends how I feel.” I said.
Sensed God say, “I’ve got an iEverything now and have Hanging with Friends and Angry Birds, so I have plenty to keep me busy while I wait. Don’t worry about me. I’m good. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
“Thanks.”
Prayer: Lord, help me to pray as I can, not as I cannot. Amen.
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Guest Post: “Thank God I’m Wrong”
November 3, 2011 By Leave a Comment
I’m grateful to my colleague Melissa Lowery, L.P.C. for allowing me to post her excellent article on handling the inevitable disappointments we experience when “life” doesn’t go our way. 
I was inspired by a recent women’s event at Asbury United Methodist Church to think on my own spiritual journey, and if I had my own pearls of wisdom, or “pearls of faith” to pass on, what would they be? It simply comes down to one pride-swallowing admission: Thank you, Lord, for being so much smarter than I am.
I am a planner. I will not say that I am a control freak (who wants to admit that?), but I do like for things to go predictably according to my expectations. No one likes the feelings of disappointment and anxiety that go along with adjustment and, dare I say it, being wrong. But, I am infinitely grateful that my mistakes and well-intentioned plans are overseen by someone who knows so much more than I do about what is right for me.
So, how do we engage in a relationship with God that is not equivalent to that of a petulant child (“Here, Lord, I give this over to you… No, now I want it back… No, you can take it… No, it’s mine.”)? Is it humanly possible to trust God more than we trust ourselves? Larry Crabb suggests there are steps in the spiritual process that allow for pain, change, and healing, all in the journey of bringing us closer to God through self-awareness:
1) “Shattered dreams are necessary for spiritual growth.” We often feel we know what is best, and we establish dreams and hopes in pursuit of that perception. So, we experience disappointment and even grief when they do not go according to plan. Some dreams need to be broken in order to proceed the way God intends.
2) “Something wonderful survives everything terrible, and it surfaces most clearly when we hurt.” Looking back, some of my most challenging times in life brought on the strongest, most fervent efforts of soul-searching. I was open to new emotions, insights, and relationships, because I recognized whatever I was previously doing had not worked.
3) “Some dreams important to us will shatter, and the realization that God could have fulfilled that dream pushes us into a terrible battle with Him.” When a most cherished dream is shattered, such as the death of a loved one, our nature is to question God – why did He allow it, or why did He not prevent it? At some point, we experience tension with God.
4) “Only an experience of deep pain develops our capacity for recognizing and enjoying true life.” If I always give my daughter candy, she will never learn to like vegetables. Just as we experience lesser wants to our satisfaction, we never know to strive for something greater.
5) “No matter what happens in life, a wonderful dream is available… That experience, strange at first, will eventually be recognized as joy.” The past is not to be recaptured but to be used as a launching pad for new, joyful dreams as God designs.
If we trust God’s dreams for us, not our own, we are open to experience joy. If a dream is shattered, we should feel as we need to feel – hurt, sad, confused – then, we open ourselves to what is next on our path. The more confidence we have in God, the more confidence we have in our own judgment to make sound and faithful decisions for our lives.
Melissa Lowery is a counselor at Pax Renwal Center where she specializes in working with adolescents, phase of life issues for women, and couples counseling. She lives with her daughter Claire and husband Rob in Lafayette, LA. Email her at melissa@paxrenewalcenter.com .
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Keeping Our Eyes on the Goal
September 28, 2011 By Leave a Comment
I’ve recently taken to the “sport” of darts. For a long time I focused on hitting the Bull’s Eye. I always assumed (as do most non-dart throwers) that hitting the bullseye was the most important, valuable shot.
Not so. Its slightly above that—the triple 20. The bull’s eye scores 50, while triple 20 is…you get the math
It can be easy to focus on the wrong goal. In no area is this more true than in Spirituality and Religion.
In Old Testament times we focused on a poor goat sending it off into the desert with our wrongs on its back. In the New Testament we did the same to non-Jews, hookers, tax collectors… and Jesus.
Religion is a Latin word which mean “To put back together.” Its purpose is to help put us “back together” with God. To that end, it is a great tool. For me, Christian Catholicism is the best tool I can find—and I’ve shopped a lot!
Yet even today the pattern of losing focus repeats itself. For many religion has become an end in and of itself. Going to Church, praying, and following a certain ways of living are the goal—instead of a means to an end.
Intimacy with God is, always has been and always will be the goal.
An increasing number of people today are disenchanted with the Church and formal religion because they have experienced them portrayed and treated as idols. They’ve been told critiquing the tool or its craftsmen are tantamount to blasphemy. So they quietly slip into a passionless resignation, stop showing up, or stop caring while going through the motions. Their legacy? Bitter, cynical, cafeteria catholics who “can’t handle the truth”, and “have lost their way.”
This is not my experience of these people who comprise 85-90% of our Church. They are resistant not because they are bad, relativistic or lackluster, but because they don’t feel heard and understood. They’ve grown weary of being “fussed at” and talked down to because they don’t dress appropriately, contracept, cohabitate, listen to the wrong music, don’t spend enough time with their kids, work too much, spend too much, don’t give enough, don’t take the faith life of their children seriously enough and don’t make enough time to read Theology of the Body.
If the New Evangelization is going to be New, we must do something new. We must spend more energy and time understanding our target demographic and speaking to their perceived needs, hurts and fears offering them hope by holding up the goal, not the method. If not, our evangelization isn’t going to be new, it’ll be an ineffective, albeit refurbished model of scapegoating which drives shame laden sinners into the desert instead leading burdened sons and daughters home to their Father.
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Needing to Be Right
August 5, 2011 By 4 Comments
Most of us, most of the time are driven by three ego needs:
1. Look good
2. Feel good
3. Be right
Accuracy is an objective reality. Either the widget is or isn’t green. If it is green, whether or not I acknowledge that is immaterial. The widget is green—my not acknowledging it does nothing to change that reality.
Being right, on the other hand, is a subjective need of the ego. You say the widget’s green and I say its white. The green widget doesn’t need you to advocate for its greenness, it will be green regardless.
When you need me to agree with you that the widget is green you are no longer concerned about accuracy, but are being influenced by your ego’s need to “be right.”
Some protest, “But Roy, the widget is green.” So? Why do you need to convince me? Why do you need me to see things the way you see them? Your need for me to see the widget, world or even God the way you do is coming from your ego’s need to be right.
In relationships, the need to be right always, not just sometimes, but always, interferes with experiencing intimacy. We narrow the criteria for connecting by saying “I can only be close to you if you agree with me.”
So can we only be intimate with those who agree with us? Is it possible to experience intimacy (closeness) when we cannot agree? The answer is yes. But it can only happen if we value the relationship more than being right.
This is just as clearly seen on an institutional level. When I see “Catholics Come Home” signs I see “We’re right. You’re wrong.” We’re here, you are the one who left. Come home.”
What about a sign that says “We miss you. We’re here to listen. We would love an opportunity to apologize and help right anything we (as a body of Christ) may have done to hurt you.” Such a sign would not be pithy or catchy, but would be dangerous. The sheer shock of that sign would cause traffic accidents.
Whether we like it or not, many people, young and old, experience a vast disconnect between “Church” and the Christ who repeatedly took the humble stance, knelt down, girded himself with a towel and offered to wash their feet.
What about “Catholics, where are you? Can we come into your home?
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Thank God It’s Friday (for only 12 more hours…)
March 25, 2011 By 11 Comments
A snapshot of my day (mind) last Friday…
Perform random act of kindness for a stranger.
Feel proud.
Hide a box of Girl Scout Cookies from Mindi for my Midnight snack. (and as a passive aggressive payback for putting us on a budget).
Feel devilishly proud.
Leave home to go minister.
Make the sign of the cross in front the Church.
Make a profane gesture to some jerk who wouldn’t let me out of my driveway.
Refuse to look at the lady who’s screaming at me for not letting her out of her driveway.
Think about handing her my card and a Lexapro.
Think: “cards are expensive and I need the Lexapro.”
Work hard trying to help people.
Drive home committed to being nice to fellow drivers.
Open a beer but remember I gave beer up for Lent (since I seldom drink it).
Think: “Damn.”
Uncork a bottle of wine.
Wonder: “What was I was thinking giving up alcohol for Lent? No more M&M’s it is!” I resolve (quietly in case I need to change again).
As its’ Friday forego the $4 hamburger for $50 worth of boiled Shrimp and Crawfish.
Think, “It’s good to be Catholic.”
Begin thinking about tomorrow night’s supper.
Think, “I should have done the Stations of the Cross.”
Ask Mindi what she thinks about tomorrow night’s dinner.
Remember that she eats to live, while I live to eat. And its 10pm and she’s sleeping.
Wonder if I’ll be up past midnight to enjoy a leftover link of boudin…
Resolve to make it happen.
Think about my Cajun Catholicism as I hear my mom’s voice (while she’s mauling a Popeyes fried chicken thigh on Good Friday and stuffing other items from the buffet in her foil lined purse) “Baby, Jesus didn’t have boudin on the cross.”
Feel guilty, because dispite the evident hypocrisy, I know there’s some merit to what she’s said.
Admire mom’s piety, paradoxical as it may be.
Think: “I should be more pious.”
Resolve to think more about that next week when I’m not meat deprived.
Start preparing evening soliloquy (prayer).
Wonder if my Friday fast will pay off on the scale tomorrow.
Think: “That’s the least God could do.”
Feel twinge of guilt and remember the people of Japan.
Resolve to play with the boys all day tomorrow.
Open an email telling me a recent talk was unclear and un-Catholic.
Think: “Doesn’t this person know who I am?”
Remember: “I grew up in a trailer.”
Think: “They may be right.”
Get a call from a recent host saying my words changed their life.
Obsess about the first call.
Call three friends hoping they’ll tell me I’m a good person.
Remember: “God loves me in my mess.”
See God grin at me in my mind’s eye.
Resolve to do better tomorrow.
Hear alarm go off to remind me its boudin time…
Pray: “Thank you Lord for boudin…and for my faith…and for loving the complete mess that I am. Amen.”
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