October 2007 Archives

Dancing with the Stars is now a joke. No way should Sabrina have gotten voted off. She was consistently near the top. The judges were astounded. But alas, she lacked the fan base of Jane Seymour and Marie Osmond. The people voted...and, though clearly the best dancer, she wasn't the most popular.

American Idol has seen its share of injustices, but nothing on this scale.

Democracy has its place. Iraq may or may not be one such place. Determining who goes and who stays on Dancing with the Stars--definitely not something you let "the people" decide.

I joined the Twitter craze. It enables you to keep people micro-informed about your doings. For instance, that you're getting ready for work, and now you're driving to work, and now you're checking your email, and now it's break time...little postings throughout the day.

When I first heard about Twitter, I deemed it terribly stupid and intrusive. But some other Communications people I know are messing with it, and merely posting something once a day. And it is, I must confess, just slightly interesting.

So I signed up, and installed the code on my blog (over on the right). Now, this page is kinda like two blogs--one with my major postings, which generally occur at least every few days, and then my Twitter postings. FYI, there are three ways I can post: from the Twitter website, using a Dashboard Widget called Twidget, and directly from iChat as an instant message. Convenient.

I'm not enamored with Twitter, and not advocating that you climb aboard. I'll do the Twitter thing until I decide my first impressions are correct--that it is, indeed, a stupid time-waster--and then I'll delete it. But for now, I'm tweeting.

Last Sunday, Pam and I attended The People's Church in Franklin, Tenn., basically a suburb of Nashville. It was the last thing we did on vacation, before heading home. Just a month before, I had attended the MinistryCOM conference, which was hosted by The People's Church. I thought it would be neat to actually attend a service there. So we attended the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday night, and the next morning attended a Music City church service.

It was a great experience. I loved the service, loved the music, loved the message. But first, let me back up and give you a negative first impression.

We arrived around 8:50, with the service scheduled to start at 9:15. Interestingly, nobody greeted us. Nobody said a word to us. I stood in the lobby for a bit, and I might as well not have existed. I picked up some literature at an information booth, and the lady sitting there said hello, but that's it.

When we entered the sanctuary at 9:00, only a few people were there. We found a seat toward the front. A few more people gradually filtered in. But by 9:10, the place still seemed rather empty. But the worship team came out at 9:15, we sang a few songs, and suddenly I realized that the place was well-filled with people. And I realized, "That's the way it works at Anchor---only a few people come early, a bunch of people settle in right at starting time, and they keep coming through the first couple of songs. Why should a Nashville church be any different?"

The worship team, led by Integrity artist Michael Neale, was outstanding. I'd heard the scaled-down version at MinistryCOM; on Sunday, there were seven singers and six instrumentalists. We sang about five songs, and I'm pretty sure we stood the whole time. Neale's song "More and More" blew me away. Drop what you're doing (which is, reading this blog), go to the iTunes store, and download that song right now. While you're at it, do the rest of his album. Good stuff.

Another Chinese toy that, after several months of US government study, was ordered to be recalled. Thanks to Brian Magnus for alerting me to this.

Pam and I had a meeting at church tonight. About a dozen people were there. It's the first "chuch" thing we've had since returning from vacation. And almost every person there, upon seeing us, said "Welcome back," or "We missed you" or "How was your trip?"

We were missed. We were really missed. That's not necesssarily the case in some churches; you can be gone for several weeks, and people say, "Oh, you went somewhere? I didn't know that."

Makes me appreciate Anchor all the more.

That's me with some of the llamas at the Cherokee Llama B&B. The llamas always acted like they were ready to spit. Kept me on edge.

Pam and I did something new last week on vacation: we stayed at a bed & breakfast. Two of them, in fact. I've been interested in B&Bs for a long time, but we've always gone the corporate route (Hampton, Fairfield, etc.). But for this getaway in Tennessee, I searched for B&Bs in remote mountain locations where we could kick back and relax. I found two such places.

We started with the Cherokee Llama B&B near Jonesborough in eastern Tennessee. The description said they had actual llamas, two cats, and four dogs. From the pictures, I knew at least three of the dogs were labs. I love dogs, but our lifestyle isn't conducive to giving dogs the attention they need, which is why we have cats. But I loved the idea of being able to romp with some labs for a couple of days.

The B&B was located up a long drive, which went between two pastures--the four male llamas on the left, the girls on the right. As we pulled up to the two-story brick house, the four dogs emerged from their doggy door, barking. Three were labs--the tan Amber, black Abi, and chocolate Brady. Then there was old and gray Sam, a non-lab of indeterminate breed who didn't move too quickly but was a friendly fellow.

Jennifer, the innkeeper, came out to greet us and show us around the property. She's a former lawyer with a very impressive and varied resume (state supreme court, attorney general's office, state prosecutor's office, private practice). She introduced us to the dogs, to Rocky the cat, to the trails surrounding the house, and to our lovely room on the second floor. We had a lovely porch overlooking the hills and the land housing the male llamas, plus comfortable chairs sitting under some pine trees in the yard. Several trails curved through the property.

We stayed two nights. Also arriving that night was Russ, a young fellow from New York City who was installed computer equipment for Embarq in nearby Johnson City. He was a big fan of B&Bs. We enjoyed getting to know him and, on our final morning, walking the trails with him and seeing the llamas. Amber and Abi walked with us, though they chased off into the woods on sniffing sprees.

The breakfasts were wonderful. Each morning, two carafes of coffee (decaf and regular) awaited me downstairs). I would pour me a cup, go track down a dog or cat, and then sit out in the early morning on a chair reading. Nice.

Jennifer and her husband, Charlie, a builder, were great hosts and downright interesting people. Charlie sported a short ponytail. On Monday afternoon we sat out on the porch chatting for quite a while; Jennifer brought us delicious apple cake and ice cream.

We stayed Sunday night, and on Monday took a trip into Jonesborough, the oldest town in Tennessee. It was nothing special. I preferred when we returned to the inn and just sat around reading. That was relaxing, especially with Rocky and the dogs at our sides. The dogs couldn't get enough attention. And that's exactly what I wanted.

Here are some photos. Click on the thumbnails to see a larger version.

	The Cherokee Llama Bed & Breakfast sits on a hill behind a bunch of trees. Very peaceful setting. The two guestrooms are on the upper floor, and the door on this porch is the entrance to the guest area.
	Russ with the male llamas. They made sounds like they were getting ready to spit, as llamas are known to do. But they mainly spit at each other. None of us got nailed.
	Pam with Rocky, one of the two cats. Rocky spent a great deal of time laying on me as I read. He still has his front claws, which left little puncture marks and mini-scratched all across my shoulders, chest, and belly. I told Jennifer that if Rocky turned up missing, it was because I snuck him into a suitcase.
	I loved these dogs. They soaked up all the attention I would give them. They also accompanied us as we hiked the trails.
	Rocky was interested in climbing into our trunk as we prepared to leave.
	Russ with Abi and Amber, and Sam off to the right. Grady, the chocolate lab, hung around but didn't want to be petted. He'd been abused before coming to live with Jennifer and Charlie.

We made it home. Finally.

We attended church in Nashville, Tenn., yesterday morning and started back for what should have been a seven-hour trip. A nice, casual Sunday drive, right?

We took I-65 north. About 30 miles from Louisvile, Kent., we hit a major logjam caused by an accident. We were stuck for an hour. Traffic finally got moving. After about 20 minutes, I pulled off at an exit to let Pam drive. But as we headed back onto the highway, things were backed up again. Just beyond the exit another accident had occurred. If I hadn't pulled off there, we would have been long past before the accident occurred.

This time, we consulted a roadmap and found a suitable detour which eventually reconnected us with I-65. We cruised into southern Indiana. But about 30 minutes from Indianapolis, we hit another logjam, which tied us up for another 30 minutes or so. We took an exit and found a detour. It took us through some towns and was slow driving, but at least we were moving.

So that was traffic jam number 3. Between Anderson and Muncie, we hit number 4. Back to a full stop. Things finally got moving, but another 15 minutes and we were stopped again.

Five traffic jams on the same highway I had taken a month earlier, when I had a conference in Nashville.

So our seven-hour trip ended up being over 11 hours. But we made it, and Molly and Jordi were excited to see us. And we them.

Tonight Pam and I went to the Grand Ole Opry here in Nashville. That was a neat experience. Neither of us are avid country fans, but like country music enough to enjoy something like this.

Tonight, the 82nd birthday of the Grand Ole Opry, they began broadcasting it live on the GAC cable channel. The show lasted 2.5 hours, 6:30 - 9:00, but only the 7-8:00 portion was broadcast on TV. It was interesting watching the camera work. One boom camera circled right above us.

The line-up for the televised part included Carry Underwood, Travis Tritt, Emerson Drive, and Ronnie Milsap. That's a pretty high-powered bunch. Carrie Underwood, the reigning Country Female Artist of the Year, did the most sings, five. Emerson Drive did 3 or 4, Travis did just 2, and Ronnie Milsap, our least favorite, did three. I'm sure you wanted to know the song count of each. Always glad to provide the information my readers seek.

The non-televised portions included some people I'd never heard of, and two I had: Hal Ketchum and Vince Gill. Lots of good bluegrass. A fun, new experience for us.

On Sunday, we attended Quest Community Church, a fast-growing, outreach-oriented church we had become familiar with through a media conference. The church started in 1999 and now runs about 2700 people, most of it conversion growth. Pam and I occasionally listened to MP3 sermons by Pete Hise, the pastor. He's easy to listen to.

They hold four services each weekend, all identical (one on Saturday night). We targeted the 10:22 service (yes, that was the advertised time), which is also broadcast to "V2" (video venue) and live on the web.

The church doesn't look like a church. More like a converted warehouse, we decided, as we sat in the gravel parking lot. Actually, it was a former indoor sports facility (bowling, indoor soccer, video arcade, all kinds of stuff) which they bought and converted.

The 9 a.m. service was showing on monitors all over the lobby, and even one in the bathroom. As we waited, a man with a namebadge approached us, introduced himself, and struck up a conversation. Very natural. We talked to him for a while, and he told us lots about the church. After he left, after some time elapsed, another fellow came and talked to us. Not just a cursory greeting, but spent major time talking. Both of these greeters were leaders in the church. And they were genuinely passionate about their church, and particulary about all the people they were winning to Christ.

Signs hung around the lobby, advertising the current "Revolution" sermon series; this was the last of six weeks. Thus far, 250 people had come to Christ through this series. Wow.

I was surprised at the sanctuary, located on the upper level. Much smaller than I expected. Maybe 400 movie-style seats, max, arranged in a sideways orientation, maybe 12 rows deep. Huge platform. As we entered (with the 9 a.m. service quickly emptying through another door), a countdown on the screen showed less than four minutes. They move people in and out quickly. You don't hang around and chat in the sanctuary after services.

The band came out, and the music leader, a woman, invited us all to stand. We sang a song I didn't recognize; I think it was called "Ignite." Then she had us sit down. That was the only song we would sing. From then on, it was more like a concert, with the band singing to us. And they were good. They did three more songs, each with a different lead singer. One, I learned later, was a Van Halen song. They did Chris Daughtry's "I'm Comin' Home." And one other--and this one was spectacular. It had a lot of rap influence, but was actual singing. Everyone on stage was jumping and moving. Maybe a Tobymac song, I don't know. But I've never seen anything like it in a church service. It was amazing. I loved it. And so did the crowd.

At our national conference in May, someone, on a comment card, complained about the "gyrating" by the leader of one of the two worship teams we used. The "gyrating" consisted of periodically dropping one foot back and leaning back. This person, had he/she been at Quest on Sunday, would have run screaming from the service, banging fists against her/his head, certain that the devil himself was giving chase.

"I'm Comin' Home" was actually the last song. Just before it, we heard a testimony. A 30-ish man, bald, tall and lean, sat on a stool with a microphone. I thought he was one of the pastors, at first. But then he began telling his story. A story of being called "fag" and "queer" and worse as a kid, being given "an identity I didn't want," but then, starting as a teen, descending into the gay lifestyle. In the church and at school he found no acceptance. But in the gay community, he did find acceptance. He lived that life for a number of years, yet felt the proverbial emptiness. Through a variety of circumstances, he ended up at Quest 14 months ago and gave Jesus control of his life. It was a powerful testimony.

Pete Hise, the founding pastor, is a superb communicator. Energetic. Humorous. Creative. He used a bunch of different props, some of which people brought onstage, behind him, as he spoke (which means he was following a script closely, and things had been planned out very well). Very well done. He led up to a presentation of the gospel, but in a way designed specifically for people in 2007.

For response, he had people lower their heads and asked people to raise a hand if they wanted to give their lives to Christ. About 20 people in that service did. He invited them to a certain room immediately after the service, so he could talk to them and serve them communion.

How cool is that? People accept Christ, and right away you serve them communion. I'd never heard of that.

It was an enormous thrill to take part in that service. An enormous thrill to see a church being the church, hitting on all cylinders.

Pam and I are on vacation. We turned over the house to Allen, Carolyn, and Connor, and headed south to Kentucky and Tennessee. Our first stop, last Saturday, was Lexington, Kent. That was the only stop where I hadn't reserved a place to stay. I figured we'd get to Lexington and have no trouble finding a motel room.

But, before leaving, I decided to reserve something anyway, just in case. So I checked various places online--no rooms available. Hmmm. I called a Ramada Limited. No rooms. "Is anything big happening in Lexington this weekend?" I asked the girl.

"The LSU and Kentucky football game is today," she told me.

Okay, that explained it. Number 1 Louisiana State was in town. So I backed up all the way to Florence, just across the river from Cincinnati. That would leave a mere 90-minute drive to Lexington the next morning for church.

Must have been quite a game. Triple overtime. Kentucky wins. The town went nuts. Always a basketball town, they had now discovered that football could be just as thrilling.

I love this quote from a Wittenburg Door Interview with Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill church in Michigan.

We say, "This isn't the church, this is a church service. It's just an hour where we have some teaching, some singing and you'll hear about things in the community." If there are 43 "one anothers" in the New Testament—serve one another, carry one another's burden's, confess to one another—you can only do a couple of those in a church service. Until you have a community that you are journeying with, please don't say you are a part of this church. You just come to a gathering.

Wow, isn't that true. Our church services are just "a gathering."

Who is it that I'm journeying with? Well, there's my wife, Pam. I'm sure our joint ministry takes in a good number of those "one anothers." (I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to word that sentence without eliciting smirks from people with dirty minds; if you smirked, then I obviously under-estimated your depravity.) The worship team at Anchor is the group I'm closest to, the people I'm most likely to open up with. So perhaps our Thursday night practice is more "church" than what happens on Sunday morning.

Anyway, we all need to not think too highly of what happens at the Sunday Morning Big Show, and to recognize that what happens in people's lives the rest of the week is what really counts. Of course, we all know that, so unlike most of my posts, I'm not delivering any Grand New Insight.

• On Friday I had lunch with Evan McBroom, who heads a Christian communications consulting firm called Fishhook, out of Indianapolis. It's always fun talking with someone else in my field. I've spent my whole career working, basically, alone when it comes to people in my areas of expertise. Nobody with whom to talk shop. Evan's a great guy with lots of expertise and what sounds like a first-rate staff.
• I really like Bruce Springsteen's new album. Downloaded it from iTunes.
• The Colts are doing a lot better than I expected this year, considering all the folks they lost. But they're humming right along.
• Pam and I are watching the third season of "The Office," which came out on DVD a few weeks ago. That is such a hysterical show. Last night I dreamed that I was working for The Missionary Church denomination, and that Jim (from the Office) was their bookstore manager. No sign of Pam the receptionist.
• A terrible injustice occurred last week on "Dancing with the Stars." The fellow who got booted, some model whose name I don't even know, was among the best and certainly the most entertaining. And they kept Wayne Newton? He of the plastic face, the result of way too many facelifts?
• On Saturday Pam and I traveled to Mason, Mich., to attend one of the Lay Training Events our denomination is holding in six different regional settings. Probably 40 people attended, plus another dozen in the youth tract. Pat Jones, our Director of Healthy Church Ministries, led the sessions, and he had lots of good stuff and superb stories.

What is most important to a first-time visitor to your church? David Zimmerman, writing on Church Marketing Sucks, says, "First-time visitors care most about not embarrassing themselves." He then gives some examples of what a visitor might fear:

• How they are dressed. Too casual, or too dressed-up?
• Will their kids acts up and make a scene?
• Will they get confused and stand up at the wrong time?
• When the offering is taken, will they feel pressured to give?

Zimmerman mentions how some churches ask visitors to stand. I haven't seen that since college, when a UB church here in Huntington had visitors stand and introduce themselves (for the record, it didn't make me uncomfortable then, but would now). He also mentions attending a church that reversed it, asking the regulars to stand and the visitors to remain seated. He then found himself "surrounded by towering members in this intimidating church, each hanging over me as they offered me an obligatory welcome and handshake." Yeah, that would make me claustrophobic.

Here are some other things that can cause a visitor some anxiety or awkwardness.

• As you enter the church, someone shakes your hand and states a boilerplate welcome, and then goes on to the next person. You're left standing by yourself, feeling conspicuous and wondering, "Where do I go now?" Contrast that with a greeter who sticks with you, shows you around, and genuinely takes an interest in you.
• Uh oh, they're doing communion. What's the procedure? Do I need to get out of my pew and go somewhere? Can visitors even take communion here or do you need to be a member? Do I drink and eat as soon as I get the elements, or do I wait? I need to watch everyone closely to make sure I don't screw it up.
• Standing around by yourself, waiting for the service to star. Nobody comes up to speak to you, even though it's obvious you're a visitor. You feel sooo conspicuous.
• As a lifelong church attender, I know that people stake out regular pews. I'm afraid of sitting in someone else's "personal" place. At a UB church some years ago, an older couple gave me a bothered look, because I apparently took "their" pew. Hey, I'm sorry.
• If the church has a greeting time during the service, this can be a nice thing. But it can also be terribly awkward if you're a visitor and people still ignore you. Or if they give you a quick "Nice to have you" welcome, and then turn to someone else--a regular, someone they know--and begin talking about how their week went.

At any event, I'm always hyper-conscious of how I'm dressed. Am I over-dressed, or under-dressed? I need to get over that, but at age 50, it's pretty ingrained and I'm not sure my apparent low sense of self can conquer this persistent insecurity.

Isiah Thomas was a phenomenal basketball player with an engaging personality. But his post-NBA career has been an example of living above your competency. He hasn't shown success in anything he's done--a couple GM positions, a couple coaching position. He killed an entire basketball league when he helped buy it (the Continental league, which had a team here in Fort Wayne). And now his stupidity has cost his employer $12 million. And he's still young, with many years in which to wreak further havoc.