I’m sitting in the airport, headed to the east end of our fine country. My goal for the next 6 days is pretty simple:
Meet up with as many youth workers as I can over the next 6 days.
Talk until I’m blue in the face about two ministries I’m 1000% behind- PlanetWisdom [students] and YS Palooza [adult volunteers, parents of teenagers]
Here’s my rough schedule. If you’re in one of these areas or somewhere reasonably in between. Let me know… I’d love to grab coffee. (Or crash on your couch)
Some writers have explained the English constitution thus; the king, say they, is one, the people another; the peers are an house in behalf of the king; the commons in behalf of the people; but hath all the distinctions of the people; but this hath all the distinctions of an house divided against itself; and though the expressions be pleasantly arranged, yet when examined they appear idle and ambiguous; and it will always happen, that the nicest construction that words are capable of, when applied to the description of some thing which either cannot exist, or is too incomprehensible to be within the compass of description, will be words or sound only, and though they may amuse the ear, they cannot inform the mind,for this explanation includes a previous question, viz. HOW CAN THE KING BY A POWER WHICH THE PEOPLE ARE AFRAID TO TRUST, AND ALWAYS ABLIGED TO CHECK?
Thomas Paine, and his best-selling pamphlet, united ill feelings towards King George and solidified the people into a full-fledged declaration of independence from England and the war which followed.
Words, written bluntly, did that.
Paine didn’t dance around things or talk about them in a way so as not to offend. He went for the jugular with his pen and twisted when he found a vein so as to cause maximum damage. He went for the kill and got it.
As I’ve been reading Common Sense it reveals to me over and over again a simple truth: We have gone soft.
Something was wrong in his world. And he knew that others felt the same way. So he published his words with the hopes of putting his frustrations into action.
If he were to say those things today about our country? We’d call him a terrorist. (Or another label… even if we agreed with him, we’d have to disarm his words with a label.)
The pen is still mightier than the sword
Political-correctness is very effective. It leads to stalemates and exchanges of niceties. But being nice never leads to action. Compromise is the best you can do.
Meanwhile, the world is in desperate need of truths to be told, lies to be exposed, and convictions to be stood upon.
Millions will die in the coming decade because we are nice.
As believers in Jesus, we acknowledge that millions will go to hell because we are too nice (or want to protect our job) to do anything about our churches reaching 5%-10% of the general population of our country.
I’m 34 years old. I don’t have time to waste being nice.
This is what I tell people when they ask me, “If you know things you write will make people mad why do you still do it?”
Have you ever met someone in their 70s full of regret? Looking back on their life they tearfully tell you the things they wish they had done, said, or the person they wished they could have been?
I have. And those conversations drive me to do and say things based on my convictions today. I’m not going to sit back and play nice as it only leads to compromise and regrets.
You are who you are on purpose
I’m stupid enough to believe what the Bible teaches me. And I hope you are, too.
God doesn’t have you where you are at by accident. You don’t live where you live accidentally. You don’t work where you work accidentally. It’s no accident who your co-workers are. Or your friends. Or the board you sit on nor the role you play at your church.
You were created for this moment to have the thoughts you have today and to say them. Fear God alone, not the consequences of putting to action the things God has laid on your heart.
Knowing that, have no fear. Just say it. Do it. And live it.
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.Ephesians 2:8-10
I was listening to a message by Rob Bell a few years ago and someone posed the question to him, “Why do people drive for hours to be a part of Mars Hill.” His answer was profound and simple: “People will drive from miles around to see what’s on fire.”
Very true, isn’t it?
When I read the book of Acts I am sucked into the story of both the fire God started and the massive attention that fire drew wherever the Apostles traveled. Sure, there was spectacle on the day of Pentecost where God dropped tongues of fire on believers as they were indwelled with the Holy Spirit.
Yet they only grew by a few thousand that day.
By the end of Acts there were tens of thousands of believers. (Maybe more?) They had unleashed a virus of forgiveness of sins and restoration of relationship that the Roman army couldn’t stamp out. By Acts 28, what started as a small fire in Jerusalem was spreading. God had captured hearts whereas other gods and kingdoms tried to capture their bodies– and the Romans simply couldn’t shut down a virus that spread with love.
Because of the division between Luke-Acts we lose sight of the resolution of the story of Jesus’ ministry. While the credits roll and Easter is celebrated at the empty tomb, the story isn’t over!
The story is really just beginning.
It was a virus so strong that within three centuries it would topple the most powerful and dominant empire the world has ever seen.
The empty tomb is the climax. But the unleashing of God’s people by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit are the resolution.
Why did Jesus come to earth? Surely, to seek and save the lost. Surely, to make a way for salvation of all who seek him. Of course those are reasons He came to earth.
But it was also to unleash a fire through his believers that can’t be stopped.
For 2,000+ years the fire has burned as the only hope of the planet spreads. While evil has appeared from every direction over millennia the fire has spread. Even as martyrs were literally burned at the stake they passed the flames on with their love. The fire is shared from father to son, neighbor to neighbor, classmate to classmate, and homeless man to executive.
A lot of people I know are disappointed in God today. A new year has dawned and they look at the resources they have available, they scratch their heads, they look at the agenda God has laid on their heart, and they cry silently– God, there is no way I can do this with the resources I have.
Unfortunately, too many of my friends in ministry woke up this morning wondering if God has still called them to a life in ministry.
To both, I have this simple reminder from Acts: Fire is free.
The great Hope of the world flows from the pores of our weakness. While we may be depressed by a lack of resources or even a lack of a job– be encouraged the your greatest calling spreads fastest through people with no resources, no stock piles, and nothing left but a flickering flame.
The reason I [Paul] left you [Titus] in Crete was that you might put in order what was left unfinished and appointelders [some translations use the word leader] in every town, as I directed you. An elder must be blameless, faithful to his wife, a man whose children believe and are not open to the charge of being wild and disobedient. Since an overseer manages God’s household, he must be blameless—not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain. Rather, he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined. He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it.
Here is a trustworthy saying: Whoever aspires to be an overseer [elder, pastor, overseer are basically the same word] desires a noble task. Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of fullrespect. (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?) He must not be a recent convert, or he may become conceited and fall under the same judgment as the devil. He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil’s trap.
6 things that Paul doesn’t say that American church culture often says are qualifications to be considered a pastor.
You have to be a leadership expert, a proven leader with years of experience, a reader of books on leadership, aspiring to be a leader, and a regular at Willow Creek’s Leadership Summit and/or somehow tangentially related to John Maxwell.
You have to be an employee of the church. The same passage describes the biblical qualifications for a pastor as they do positions the American church almost never considers staff-level. (Elder, overseer)
Aspiring to be a well-known preacher. “Able to teach” is a pretty low standard. I am fully “able to run” but you won’t catch me out there doing it too often.
Be in possession of an Masters in Divinity from a denominationally approved seminary prior to seeking ordination. That said, education was a high priority in the early church. You couldn’t even be baptized or label yourself a Christian until you’d gone through about a one year process of intense discipleship. (Prior to baptism, new believers were called catechumen.)
Be a great manager of programs and projects. Since the early church was organized around the idea of family, you didn’t need to take classes in organizational leadership to understand the dynamics of a family.
You have to be an amazing self-promoter of both the church and your “personal brand.” Paul didn’t have a blog, Twitter, or Facebook. And yet he somehow managed to be spur on the most powerful viral message of all time.
Dread soaked excitement woke him up way too early. Still dark and too restless to fall back asleep he quietly rolls out of bed. He’s tossed and turned all night long. “I might as well take a shower and get ready,” he thought to himself. Having stared at his alarm clock for the past hour hoping the monotony would quiet his million-mile-per-hour brain he knew sleep would not return. Resolved, he carefully pulled off the covers and slid to the right so as to not shake the bed too much and wake his baby brother.
Last night, he’d rolled his eyes at his grandmothers warnings as he went to bed. “Butterflies in my stomach? Really? I’m 15… not 4. What does she know?” Butterflies were too dainty for what he felt all night. More like a hornets nest in his chest from the moment he slithered between the mishmash of sheets and scratchy wool blankets.
Thud.
He clenched his jaw so tightly at the pain of kicking the end of his bed that stars flashed before his eyes in the brilliant darkness. The little toe. Why is it always the little toe? He slowly exhales– releasing the pain silently under his breath. A few seconds of stretching out his foot and he’s ready to move forward, again. As he fumbled around the strange room he wonders if this is what it is like to be blind. The wandering continues as he tries to imagine where the door handle is while trying to remain silent enough to hear the deep breathing of the toddler in his still-warm bed.
Finally his hand bumps the doorknob and he is free. More confident, and with a little light sneaking into the hallway from the street light outside, he feels along the wall until he finds the bathroom.
As he closes and locks the door behind him he lets out the first noise of his day. “Crap.” Turning on the light he sees himself in the mirror and instantly realizes he’s forgotten everything he needs for a shower.
The light goes off and the process reverses. Down the narrow hallway to the bedroom door. Slowly opening the squeaky door, ever so softly, so the steady breathing brother doesn’t change. Waking him up right now would be a whole new level of problem he wants to avoid at all cost. Even at the cost of his still throbbing little toe.
Leaving the door open for a little light and good luck he reaches into a laundry basket and searches for something to wear. It’s almost pointless trying to think if things match as its so dark he couldn’t tell a yellow shirt from a black one. “Just get the parts and fix it later,” he thinks to himself as he looks for a pair of shorts, a shirt, and underwear.
5:28 AM. “How is that even possible? 11 minutes to walk to the bathroom and back? What is wrong with me?”
Back in the hallway he sees the shadow of his grandmother. “Honey, I’ve put out a towel. I’ll start some hot water for you so you can have breakfast. OK?”
“Sure.” He says as he quickly closes the door and locks it. He can’t decide which is more embarrassing, that he somehow woke her up or that she just saw him in his underwear. “Thanks grandma.” She’s probably in the kitchen and never heard it. But he said it anyway.
The hot water made his body feel as awake as his mind had been all night. Present in the moment but trying to hide from his reality at the same time. On the one hand it was too early to think too much, which, in his circumstances was all he wanted to do… to stop thinking.
Thinking too much wasn’t helping. Time to turn it off and just be for a while.
Yeah, right. Focus on today.
He had laid in bed all night running through the day to come. It was horrible and fantastic. He missed home. He missed his mom. He missed his friends. But he was ready for a new start. At least that is what he tried to convince himself all night. Over and over again he rehearsed his schedule in his mind. He knew the room numbers for each hour and had memorized the school map the counselor put in his folder when he registered.
A month ago he’d give his right arm for the anonymity he’ll have today.
But getting lost was still a big worry. “I’d better write everything down when no one is looking, just to be sure.”
Drying off he ran through the checklist one more time.
“Fresh start. New day. Start over. New everything.”
These were the words he’d heard from all of his relatives over Christmas. He couldn’t come up with the word for it, but in his mind he didn’t like the way they were saying it. Later he’d learn the word– patronizing. That would sum up the anger he felt towards their coy and meaningless words of encouragement. What did they know? It wasn’t them.
“Get a bowl. There’s hot water on the stove. There’s some oatmeal packets in the drawer. What were you doing up so early, anyway? The bus doesn’t come for an hour.”
“An hour? What time is it?”
“It’s 6:20. You were in the bathroom forever. What were you doing in there? It’s not like you shave or anything.”
6:21 AM. That’s what the microwave said, anyway.
“I don’t know. I guess I just lost track of time or something.”
He sat down at the little metal table in the corner of the kitchen, mixing his oatmeal. That’s when the quietness ended and his new daily chaos resumed.
“I hungry. Cheerios.” He looked down as his little brother was standing there, holding his blanket and rubbing his eyes. “Go ask grandma. I’m eating.”
It was mean. But he was busy. His tone was a little off, quite a bit more harsh than he wanted because as the little guy wandered away and started to cry.
Then the front door slammed closed. The apartment shook, not at just at the kerthunk of the door but also at the volume it brought to their relative peace.
“Jesus– I can’t stand my job anymore. I’m up all night and the first thing the supervisor says to me when he gets in is, ‘That’s all you did?’ He’s an idiot. I swear to God, I hate that place.”
Grandma met uncle Pete at the door.
“Watch your mouth. Everyone in the world doesn’t need to hear you. I’ve got problems of my own. Why do you have to… never mind. Just keep your voice down. We’re just waking up.”
“Have you been crying, mom? Your eyes are all puffy.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business.” Grandma said, cutting him off. “Can you make the baby some cereal. He wants Cheerios.”
She bent down and picked up the crying boy and stuffed him into his uncles arms before walking back into her bedroom and slamming the door.
His grandma was incredible at changing the subject. When he first saw her, as she left the bathroom as he made his way down the hall this morning, she was sniffling. But he thought she just had a cold or something. Maybe she’d been crying? But when you are in your underwear and your grandma is telling you meaningless information about hot water you don’t stick around too much to wonder if she’d been crying or not. You just shut the door and handle your business.
She was good at changing the subject. It’s how she handled everything complicated. He remembered how quickly she’d changed the subject at the school with the counselor. Any time they had questions she just changed the subject.
“Maybe that’ll help me today?” He said out loud into his oatmeal.
The next 45 minutes were a blur of chaos-filled activity. First his uncle yelled at his grandma. Then his brother started crying because his uncle’s loud mouth scared him. Then he’d helped his brother get dressed. Then his brother pooped his pants because he didn’t listen when he told him to go to the bathroom and he didn’t make it there on time. Then he’d gone through the nastiness of cleaning that up and resisting the need to take another shower by bathing himself in another layer of Axe.
Then he looked up at the clock in the bedroom and it was 7:18.
“Hurry up! I told you the bus will be outside at 7:20. You can’t miss it on the first day.”
Adrenaline took over. He grabbed his bag and a hoodie, closing the door behind him… wait, could he have a bag at school? He couldn’t remember. Down the stairs he went and out the front door. As he glided down three flights of steps he somehow managed to slip on the hoodie and keep track of his back back while not breaking his neck.
The crispness of the January air brought him back to reality. Looking down the block to see the silhouettes of others waiting for the bus, his feet froze to the sidewalk. His legs locked up and he felt a little woozy. He pulled his hood up, fished in his backpack for his MP3 player, put his earphones in, and turned the volume up as loud as it would go.
A pile of high school students waited at the end of the block. He kept his head down as he approached the crowd. He didn’t want to say a word. He was going to pretend he didn’t hear anything. “Just get through the first day. Don’t get lost. Don’t talk to nobody.”
No matter what. He wasn’t going to talk to a soul on the bus. It was just transportation and not some sort of invitation to friendship and all the questions that would follow.
The bus pulled up and he pushed his way into the pack. He sat down in the middle of the bus next to some kid. The kid looked a little younger than him. Maybe he was a freshmen? He smelled. Swinging his bag off his back and onto his lap he collapsed into the seat. Staring straight ahead. With a prophet blaring words he wanted to hear into his brain, he was in his own world. Starting fresh. Trying to not think about anything.
The new day starts now.
“Fresh start. New beginning. New everything.” He thought to himself as he closed his eyes in protest to the headlights of oncoming cars shining through the school bus window and into his eyes.
“Hey, what’s your name? Who are you?” That’s what he assumed the smelly kid said to him as he poked his shoulder.
My post last Sunday about megachurches (and their copycat little brothers) canceling services the day after Christmas generated a massive response. Apparently, there were a lot of people who also felt it was a smidge ridiculous that in America we found an excuse to take a Sunday off while those in other parts of the world risk their lives to worship Jesus publicly on any day. And a good amount of people, especially those who commented, thought the connection between the persecuted church and canceling services was unfair.
That’s OK. I’m a big boy and can handle people disagreeing with me.
There were several spin-off posts generated which I’d like to call your attention to as they are worth reading:
I learned three things from the post and its fallout.
In general, American Christians don’t feel much of a kinship to non-American Christians. At least the majority of blog commenters would not put kinship above their individual churches rights to meet or not meet.
Few people latched onto a central concept in the post that the church is our real family. I consider my community group part of my family, I’m left to assume that this family-feeling is not all that common. How can that be so?
The priesthood of the staff is so deeply engrained that it was nearly 30 comments before someone brought up that churches canceling services could have just managed their resources/staff differently by empowering more lay people and depending on the staff less.
In the end, the post did more than I could have hoped for. Rather than simply getting a pile of people to agree with me or disagree with me… it seems as though the post generated the exact discussion I had hoped for. And getting church leaders to critically think about their ministry is about all I could ever ask.
This has hardly been our theme song for 2010. Yet, Kristen and I have made some serious moves towards simplicity this year. Ever since I read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, I’ve been fascinated by the concept that less is more in my life.
The Simple Things
Quantity time with the kids, individually. As the kids are getting older we are making sure to schedule time for mom and dad to spend big chunks of time with each of us 1-on-1.
Gardening. I can’t tell you how many deeply simple Biblical principles have been illuminated to us through our garden this year. For me, the biggest one has been– You have to prune daily, you have to weed regularly– Otherwise good things will take over your life and bad things will choke out your growth.
Staycation- I suppose not everyone lives in a vacation destination quite like we do. But there was something so beautiful about renting a house 45 minutes away and spending a week with family.
Financially sound – I was shocked when I looked at some graphs on Mint.com the other day. I told Kristen, “We did a really good job this year. We’re ahead in every category and on target or ahead in every goal.” It’s amazing what can happen if you’ll just live within your means. In 2010, we were able to give or save 25.4% of our income.
Meaningful roadies- In November, I lamented a lot about being away from home 14 weeks in 2010. (27% of 2010) At the same time, most of those trips were really meaningful. And not all of that was away from family. (Including the mission trip with Kristen, probably the most valuable trips of our marriage.)
Friendship – It’s incredible to have a life full of friendships. (Or as a co-worker calls them, “Adam’s bromances and brarriages.”) While having a bunch of great friendships is huge to me… nothing has made me more excited than to see Kristen develop some deep friendships with a few women in our community group.
Real food – We’ve far exceeded our desire to buy/grow 25% of our food from organic sources in 2010. While it might not sound immediately like a step towards simplicity: Going to the farmers market (and even visiting the farm where our food comes from) has not only connected us to where our food comes from– we feel a lot better. There’s nothing finer than enjoying a salad or eating fruit that you’ve grown yourself.
Acting on convictions – Putting what you believe to action really is a step towards simplicity. That might not sink in at first, but remember that regrets and the conflict caused by sitting idly on your convictions creates stressful complexity. All year long I’ve asked myself, “Am I making the most of this opportunity? Am I acting on my convictions? Will I regret it if I don’t say that?”
Towards a small world – No doubt, I have many friendships all around the country and around the world. But taking the step to try to focus some of that energy onto the block we live has been rewarding. We’re looking to allocate more of our time/resources towards that in 2011.
Journalling – I’m headed into my seventh year of journalling my life online. This little discipline has transformed my life. It’s really interesting when I interact with people who are thinking about starting a blog. “When will I have the time? What will I say? Will people read it?” I come at it daily with the exact opposite thoughts. The time I spend journalling brings me life. What I write just comes out of my life. And I don’t care if anyone reads it.
It’s funny how simplicity is different for everyone. When I think of my life, filled with a calendar full of meetings, digital gadgets, hours online per day, on and on… I still consider it grounded in simplicity. Perhaps that makes me a digital simpleton?
I don’t have grandiose plans to drive this further in 2011. With baby #3 coming soon I think we’ll just be happy to hold on to the progress we’ve made in 2010. You know, keep it simple.
What steps towards simplicity are you taking? What are things you’d challenge me towards in 2011?
Confession: I do as much or more pastoral ministry now than I did when I worked in a church.
That is no knock on my friends in full-time vocational ministry.
It is more an affirmation for the myriad of people I know who have stepped out (or been pushed out) of their ministry job.
Leaving vocational ministry in a church for the great unknown is an identity crisis. These friends are left asking themselves, “Am I still a pastor?”
I went through the same thing 2 years ago. You are OK. You are still very much a pastor, even if your paycheck doesn’t come from a church.
I’m here to tell you this simple truth: When you are a pastor you are a pastor wherever you go. It’s a calling and not a vocation.
My reality
I opened this by saying that I do as much or more pastoral ministry now than I did while I worked at churches. So what does that look like?
Removed of the stigma of “going to talk to my pastor” I give a great amount of pastoral counsel. Instead of people coming to my office for that we meet at coffee shops, my house, and even bars. (Gasp!)
I love teaching at youth group. I don’t do it often enough to get into a groove… which keeps it from feeling like a grind.
I totally miss filling the pulpit. At the same time I’ve learned that I probably preach too much and act too little. I have a lot more time to do ministry rather than prepare a message.
We’ve rediscovered authentic relationships. When you work at a church your life is full of people who claim to be your friends– but it’s a positional thing. When you are a nobody in your congregation you have to develop friendships the old fashioned way. Better yet: When the positional ones come along you don’t feel obligated.
I’m ministering to people in my life that are a part of my neighborhood, work life, adult small group, and students in my youth group.
Straight talk, no B.S. (Stealing a line from a politician) That’s kind of how it feels. Free from the weirdness of people probing and constantly feeling like I’m answering every question on behalf of the church, I can just let it fly. Want to know what I think or what the Bible says? I don’t need a “church filter” anymore.
Conversely, when I was a vocational pastor I was constantly thinking to myself, “This is it?I rarely spend time with people. All I do is run programs. I want to be with people and do ministry!”
Interesting how freedom from the work of running a church has lead me to doing more pastoral ministry, right?
A global perspective for the naysayers
My fellow Americans, live in an ethnocentric culture. And American church culture is even more insular than American culture. Those of us who are in that culture have a very hard time seeing outside of it. So when I say things like “It’s a calling and not a vocation” most people in the church have no frame of reference. So while we’ve tied the concept of “I’m a pastor” with “I get paid to work at a church” we really get messed up when we no longer work for a church.
Two things to chew on…
Within Christianity: Outside of major Westernized countries almost no one who is a pastor does so vocationally. (Bi-vocational is the norm) In fact, the fastest spreading Christianity is spreading is absent of vocational staff and mostly without resources like buildings, Bibles, Bible study materials, etc. I’ve been pointing out the inverse relationship between church growth and church spending for months… but no one is lining up to cut their church budget/staff to see their church grow.
Other religions: Outside of the Christian church most religions are run by either volunteers or people who have taken vows of poverty, sustained only by the meager donations of people in their care. The Latter-day Saints are an excellent example of this. Very few people get paid within the Mormon church and yet it is one of the fastest growing religions in the world.
The book of James will punch you in the face. Repeatedly. This passage from James 1 came up at our retreat last week and was freshly illuminated to me.
Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do. James 1:22-25
Our students were doing an inductive study of Mark 4. And one of the groups was asked to act out and explain verses 21-25. When presenting, a student said something like this,”You shouldn’t just hear the Word and put it on the shelf, or even under something. You should put it over everything else you are doing.”
That hit me like a ton of bricks. How many times am I tempted to just understand God’s word? God’s not just asking me to understand the Bible, He’s asking me to “overstand it” by putting it above everything else.
So simple a 16 year old can teach it to me. But incredibly difficult to live out on a daily basis.
Oh, that I might be a man (and we a people) who doesn’t just understand your word, but is bold enough to overstand it by putting it into action.
You don’t have to be the President of the United States, Bill Gates, or Bono to change the world. Here are 10 simple things you can do to help make the planet a better place to live in 2011 and beyond.
Become a mentor or tutor to an at-risk youth. Every community has students who need help. For just a couple hours per week you can make a huge difference.
Shop local. Skip the big box retail stores/restaurants for local establishments. While you might not get the best prices or the widest selection, you are investing in the future of your community.
Start a garden. Even if it is just a square foot garden on your apartments balcony. Everything you grow and eat makes a big difference.
Loan some cash to a small business owner using Kiva. Starting at just $25, supporting small business owners in developing countries is literally giving freedom from oppression.
Buy a share in a Community Supporter Agriculture farm. (CSA) Redirect some of your grocery bill directly to the farmer by buying a share. You’ll get farm fresh fruits and vegetables and you’ll help ensure that local farmers stay in business. Shocker: Our grocery bill actually went DOWN in 2010. CSA’s are in every state, find one here.
Get to know your neighbors. This is the single most important thing you can do to ensure your neighborhood is a safe, friendly place to live and raise your family. Start with the basics– name, how long have the lived here, where did they grow up, what do they do for a living. Then sit back and be amazed.
Pick a local board and attend their monthly meeting. Most people only go to city council, zoning board, or school board meetings when they are mad. Choose a board of locally elected officials and go to their monthly meeting, just to learn the issues facing your community. It’s amazing the voice you will gain just by showing up.
Convert one week of vacation to a week of service. Naysayers call this a twisted form of tourism. That’s all they are– naysayers. If your heart is to serve, you can give a week of service in nearly any place around the world. I’ve learned from experience that this is the most rewarding/relaxing type of vacation available.
Step down to allow someone else to step up. If you hold a position of leadership, maybe this is a good year to intentionally raise a new leader while you still stay involved. I think you’ll find that this is what it really means to be a leader.
Support local middle school and high school sports. You don’t have to give money! Just show up and cheer for your local team.
