len on July 26th, 2016

I’ve been invited to teach the Missional Leadership course in Auckland this summer. These are some of the books going into preparation.imageObviously, we’ll have to define some of the critical components: culture, leadership, missio Dei. But beyond that, the critical factors are formation, discernment and innovation. And this means that identity and imagination are the root and the fruit we are seeking. We first know who we are and where its all going, and then we step forward into an unknown future. Sure, we know that future in broad terms when we know who God is. But how that future unfolds in and around us is the key piece. Do we have eyes to see? How do we develop that kind of sight? How do we help others to find it?

Preparation for a new course involves a lot of work. But I’ve been on this track a while through another frame, that of “broken futures.” And I’m thinking another good outcome of this work will likely be a book on missional leadership, in the same format as my two last short volumes. So look for an 85-90 page work with lots of images: a walk on the creative side into the spaces between.

len on July 25th, 2016

Inagrace Dietterich writes, “The concept of practices has a specific meaning: socially established cooperative human activities carried in traditions that form people in a way of life. The cultivation of a people who follow the way of Jesus Christ is a lifelong participation in “a community that embodies the language, rituals, and moral practices from which this particular form of life grows… [because] the Christian gospel is at once a belief that involves behavior and behavior that involves belief.”

“Cultivating Communities of the Holy Spirit.” In Missional Church 153

len on July 23rd, 2016

“You never go away from us, yet we have difficulty in returning to You.
Come, Lord, stir us up and call us back. Kindle and seize us.
Be our fire and our sweetness. Let us love. Let us run.”
– St. Augustine.

len on July 20th, 2016

And so empires of ideas, as well as empires of wealth and power, come and go. To live well is to observe in today’s apparent order the tiny anomalies that are the seeds of change, the harbingers of the order of tomorrow. This means living in a state of a certain insecurity, in anguish and loneliness, which, at its best, can push us toward the new. Too much security and the refusal to evolve, to embrace change, leads to a kind of death. Too much insecurity, however, can also mean death. To be human is to create sufficient order so that we can move on into insecurity and seeming disorder. In this way, we discover the new.

Jean Vanier, Becoming Human. Massey Lectures, 1998

len on July 11th, 2016

“We are all now, more or less, epistemological pilgrims.” Paul Helm

I spent a few days in Chilliwack, then nearly two weeks in Kelowna — a nice change of pace and of scenery, and time with family and friends. I’ve learned not to take more than a couple of books along – that is the most I am likely to read, and I always have KINDLE on my laptop anyway. So I did manage to have a better look at Mulholland’s little classic, “Invitation to a Journey.” There are useful resources there that I plan to use in NZ this summer.

Then this past week I joined an in-progress MDiv class in Altanta. Many years since I’ve been to Georgia – but now I have made a virtual appearance to talk about the relationship of “place” and mission. A good and interesting conversation, one that left me thinking again about learning and change.

As soon as one is dealing in the real world with people in process, one discovers that there is a world of difference between learning and change. The first may be mostly a cognitive process, the latter, because it requires disturbing a system that is in some kind of balance, is much more than cognitive. In fact, it is frequently deeply emotional and disturbing. All this leads people in noetic and learning sciences to talk about orders of change.

First order change is simple. I change my clothes or my car. Done.

There is an age when one teaches what one knows.
But there follows another when one teaches what one does not know…
It comes, maybe now, the age of another experience:
that of unlearning..
Roland Barthes

Second order change impacts my life and relationships. I move to a new town. I marry or divorce. Or I attempt to change a fixed habit. This level of change involves the way I know myself, and so it touches on epistemological change. For example, shedding an addiction requires an admission of powerlessness. That requires me to see a different kind of person in the mirror. I know myself in a new way.

The third order of change is complex, because it requires another kind of epistemological shift. It requires that I admit my powerlessness, and it requires that I surrender to something outside myself. This is a deeply holistic process and that’s why it is so profound and enduring. This level of change involves paradox. And it’s this level of change that occurs when people encounter a new paradigm.

When people encounter a new paradigm, the first response is confusion. How can this be? It requires a re-ordering of my world. It is a little like stepping out the door of your home and discovering that you are 100 feet off the ground. It’s frightening. The inner response is generated from the limbic system – “fight or flight.” Knowing that this is what occurs gives the leader an edge. If you see surprise, confusion, and angry faces, you are moving in the right direction. Unless people get in touch with something more than their heads in this process, there won’t be any deep understanding or any real change.

This is why the leadership literature — the useful stuff — deals with managing conflict. You have to disturb the system, rock the boat. People get used to boats being safe and dry places. Now you are drilling hole in the bottom. It creates anxiety!

This shouldn’t be a big surprise. We see all the possible response in the gospels. The Pharisees are often furious. Others are puzzled. Nicodemus queries Jesus about being born again – everyone knows its impossible! But notice how Jesus leads others into the new world. He does it indirectly, with parables and metaphors. He tells the truth slant, as Dickinson’s bit of poetry reminds us. He is going for the right brain. The left brain is a dead end in this process. We get stuck in analysis. We take things apart, when truth is whole and aimed at the whole person. Poetry is useful because, as David Whyte puts it, “poetry is the language against which we have no defenses.” And we are well defended, so we’ll need some help. We’ll need to engage paradox, and the left brain, oriented to control, firmly rejects all paradox.

So why not use images and poetry. We are going where we haven’t been before. The transition to a new world requires not just new tools and new ideas, but a new language. Rubem Alves reminds us, “poetry is the language of what it is not possible to say.” And there is a lot to say, and a lot to leave behind. A big part of the challenge is that deep learning requires unlearning, we have to let go before we can let come. This is the surrender aspect, but it includes the epistemological challenge. When we embrace a new paradigm we don’t only feel like we are entering new territory, we feel we are leaving something of our self behind. Self and the world are always in collusion. When they are not, bad things happen. But entering a new world means leaving an old world behind. There’s grief work here, and it’s always personal.

For all we know about change, there is a lot of mystery in the process. One would expect artistic types to be better at this than technicians, yet it’s not always the case. No one knows how this wind blows. But at least we know that deep change is possible. If it were not, literally ‘who could be saved?’

len on June 30th, 2016


len on June 23rd, 2016

Sometimes called “the oddest inkling,” mentor and friend of CS Lewis. I discovered this introduction to his poetic work, “Taliessen Through Logres.”

“Read Taliessin through Logres straight through from beginning to end, as Charles Williams designed it. Lewis, surprisingly, missed the poetry, narrative, logical, and spiritual structure of this book in his commentary in Arthurian Torso. He was looking for purely chronological plot elements, thinking to simplify the reading for a newcomer, but I think his suggested reading order ruins the poems. Just take them as they were designed.

“And then, read just for the sounds and the images. Revel in the phonoaesthetics and the lavish visual descriptions. That is the really first thing to realize about Taliessin through Logres; it is beautiful. The poems are rich with musical appeal and dancing with gorgeous imagery.”

Find the post HERE

len on June 19th, 2016

Jacques Ellul saw technique as ‘the totality of methods rationally arrived at and having absolute efficiency (for a given stage of development) in every field of human activity.’* So what is our stance: embrace, or avoid? One article concludes,

“Neither of these two options — wholeheartedly embracing the technological imperative or shunning it with anti-civilizational escapism à la Rousseau — is a fitting response to the warning of The Technological Society. We ought instead to take Ellul’s book, placed in the context of his larger work, as an appeal to walk a middle path between unrestrained technophilia and reactionary technophobia, a path we see only if we refocus on human ends, which are familial, communal, political, and ecclesial. This requires that we are willing to admit that among our vast array of technical means many fail to serve us well, that progress on this path has often little to do with innovation, and that control over our means is not simply given but something we must struggle for by confronting them with these higher than technical ends.”

From Confronting the Technological Society

len on June 11th, 2016


len on June 3rd, 2016

from Merton, The Wisdom of the Desert

A brother asked one of the elders: What good thing shall I do, and thereby live? The old man replied: God alone knows what is good. It is said that someone inquired of Abbot Nisteros the Great , the friend of Abbot Anthony, asking: what good work shall I do? and he replied,, “Not all works are alike. Scripture says that Abraham was hospitable and God was with him. Elijah loved solitary prayer, and God was with him. David was humble, and God was with him. Therefore, whatever you see your soul desire according to God, do that thing, and you shall keep your heart safe.”