The Flinch Reflex

Please read The Hardest Thing You Will Ever Do for the context of this post.

One thing I’ve had to learn to let go of while launching Fulcrum is the “flinch reflex” I picked up while working with established churches for 12 years.

I’m easily bored with the status quo. I’m wired to try to new things and to tinker with whatever is already in place. I can’t help it. I go crazy if I don’t. One of my favorite statements is, “Let’s try it and see what happens.” My favorite question is, “What if?”

I’m one of those who believes that “change for the sake of change” is a good thing. I preached a sermon once that said as much and justified it theologically by saying that regular change keeps us from falling into the trap of idolizing whatever remains static too long. Not many bought what I was selling that day, even though I had a mountain of scriptures backing me up.

I’ve also been, at times, easy prey to the accusation that I’ve made an idol out of change or novelty. So there.

When I graduated from college I was fascinated by the creative process. On my shelf are several books from back in my early days of ministry when I thought that creativity would be useful in church work. I haven’t opened those books in a long time.

To be fair to the churches I’ve worked with, both gave me ample freedom to be creative in my preaching. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I got away with in my sermons. Remind me some time to tell you what I did to a communion table. If preaching hadn’t been a creative outlet for me, I’d be developing real estate right now.

That being said, the longer I worked in established churches the less creative I felt. Finally, I just gave up and stopped asking “what if?”

Why?

Because I got tired of running into road blocks.

“What if we try this?” I’d ask.

“We can’t, ole so and so might leave.”

“What if we moved this?” I’d suggest.

“We can’t. We’ve been doing it this way so long it would confuse everyone if we changed it.”

Several times, I’d use whatever leadership capital I had and push forward anyway, only to be overwhelmed with unrelenting criticism and complaints.

If every time a mouse goes for the cheese, he get’s his head smashed in the trap, he’ll eventually stop going for the cheese, especially if he has ten heads. (Feel free to tweet and re-tweet that one ad nauseam.)

Eventually, when I came up with a new idea I’d automatically flinch in anticipation of the difficulty and frustration that would accompany its implementation. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve had with myself where I throw out a wild and crazy idea and then systematically talk myself down from the precipice of a creative leap by listing all the reasons it wouldn’t work and how much opposition I’d have to overcome. Those conversations always left me exhausted, as well as with the feeling that everyone in Starbucks was afraid to make eye contact with me.

As we dream and plan for what Fulcrum may someday become, I’ve had to fight against the flinch reflex. When I have an idea now, I don’t have to talk myself out of it before I ever go public with it. Instead, I can give each idea the room it needs to fully form and then either take off and fly or be turned into mulch that will fertilize future brainstorming sessions.

I still have plenty of ideas that will never be implemented. Some are too expensive. Others would undercut our values in the long run. Others are just goofy. Regardless, I love it that i don’t have to abort an idea for political reasons or because “we’ve never done it that way before.”

This is one of the biggest differences between launching a church and working with an established one.

How long will this last? I don’t know. There could surely be a day when the Fulcrum Community becomes so set in its ways that it begins to stymie creativity. I may even be the one who becomes resistant to all these changes suggested by the young bucks. I hope not. We’ve tried to make experimentation a value of the Fulcrum Community from the very beginning so that we’ll always be willing to try new things in the future.

Will it work?

I don’t know.

Let’s try it and see what happens.

The Hardest Thing You Will Ever Do

One of the questions I’m occasionally asked is, “How is starting a new church different from trying to turn around an established one?”

The short answer is that it’s different in every way imaginable.

In the next several posts, I’ll explain why.

Every time I start writing something like this I worry that some of my friends in established churches will think I’m throwing rocks at their churches or thumbing my nose at them because they’re working in an established context. This is never my intent.

It’s so easy to create an either/or between the two. I’ve had people in established churches question the entire enterprise of church planting. Such a great conversation starter with someone who has just swallowed hard and stepped out in faith to give it a go. I’ve also heard church planters talk about established churches like they were shacks condemned by the city. These same planters seem to have a hard time raising support from established churches. Imagine that.

I worked with established churches for 12 years. One was a small congregation in the Northwest whose growth had been hampered by past conflicts. The other was a larger church whose perceived “better days” were behind it when I arrived. In each case, I was asked by the leadership to help the church find its missional groove.

I struggled in both contexts. Not because there was something inherently wrong with either church, but because I lacked the temperament to flourish in those settings. So I have absolute respect and admiration for those pastors who are able to not only survive, but thrive in their work with established churches. Their job is stinking hard and so many of them do it with a kind of patience and grace that escapes me.

One of the things that is common at church planting conferences like Exponential, which is happening in Orlando, Florida even as I type this, is that speaker after speaker will stand up and tell potential church planters that planting a church “is the hardest thing you will ever do.” It’s meant to be a scare tactic that will weed out those who shouldn’t do it. This assertion is true in so many ways. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I started struggling with lower back pain after only a couple of months on the job here in Austin. However, doing the hard work of pastoring a church over the long haul is also “the hardest thing you will ever do,” just in a different way.

To church planters who’ve used the “hardest thing you’ll ever do” line on me I’ve wanted to say in response, “Try preaching at my last church for six years and then get back to me.” (It’s a joke Garnetters! But let’s not kid ourselves, those six years were hard on all of us. I gave as good as I got. Or maybe you were giving as good as you got. Hmmm.)

Launching a new church doesn’t mean I’ve given up on established ones, but rather it’s my attempt to be true to a calling I struggled against for over a decade. To all my friends in my former church I say, “It’s wasn’t you, it was me!” I think I have a personality designed to be perpetually frustrated in established churches while also being a perpetual source of frustration to many people in them. As I talk about some of the ways church planting is different than my old way of life, I think this point will become clear like crystal.

Before I talk about the differences between the two, let me start with these similarities. Both are good. Both are necessary. Both are hard. Neither is for the faint of heart.

At some point, both will require the use of an ice pack.

Need a Guest Speaker?

Because of the twice a month schedule of Cafe Fulcrum, I have a couple of Sunday mornings open each month for being a guest speaker. With summer coming up and knowing that many preachers will be making summer vacation/sabbatical plans, I thought I’d post the dates I’m available. If you think I might be a good fit to be a guest speaker at your church or event this summer, let me know by leaving a comment below or by sending an email to wadehodes at gmail.com

One way to look at this is as a way to support our efforts to launch Fulcrum. I’ve heard from plenty of churches who are in our corner but don’t have money in their budget to help support us financially. However, these same churches may have money in their budget for a guest speaker. By inviting me to speak (and providing a generous honorarium), you’re getting a quality guest speaker and supporting a church planter, all at the same time.
 
Open Dates:

June 13th and 27th
July 11th and 25th
August 8th and 22nd

Pressfield on Resistance

Here is a bit more of what Steven Pressfield says about Resistance:

“There’s a secret that real writers know that wannabe writers don’t, and the secret is this: It’s not the writing part that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is Resistance.”

“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands resistance.”

“Any act that rejects immediate gratification in favor of long-term growth, health, or integrity. Any act that derives from our higher nature instead of our lower. Any of these will elicit Resistance.”

“Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. Resistance is the enemy within.”

“Rule of thumb: The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.”

“Procrastination is the most common manifestation of Resistance because it’s the easiest to rationalize. We don’t tell ourselves, ‘I’m never going to write my symphony.’ Instead we say, ‘I am going to write my symphony; I’m just going to start tomorrow.”

“Are you paralyzed with fear? That’s a good sign. Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tell us what we have to do. Remember our rule of thumb: the more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.”

“You know, Hitler wanted to be an artist. At eighteen he took his inheritance and moved to Vienna to live and study. He applied to the Academy of Fine Arts and later to the School of Architecture. Ever see one of his paintings? Neither have I. Resistance beat him. Call it overstatement but I’ll say it anyway: it was easier for Hitler to start World War II than it was for him to face a blank square of canvas.”

The War of Art

Some people can trace key movements in their life story back to important conversations, chance encounters, or dramatic events. For me, it’s been mostly books. One of the primary ways God has guided my life has been by putting certain books in my hand at just the right moment.

When I was struggling through a faith crisis, it was Brian McLaren’s Finding Faith. When I was trying to sort out the Church’s role in the world it was Lesslie Newbigin’s The Gospel in a Pluralist Society. When I was trying to make historical sense of who Jesus was and why his death matters, it was N. T. Wright’s Jesus and the Victory of God. Dang it, I’ll go ahead and admit it. When I was trying to decide whether or not I wanted to continue leading a church, it was John Maxwell’s “The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership” that kept me in the boat. Each of these books, and several others, have shaped the trajectory my life has taken and explain why I’m a pastor instead of a real estate developer.

In the last week, I’ve been spending time with another book that I’m pretty sure I’m going to look back on someday and say, “That book saved my life.” (Please excuse the hyperbole, but if you’re a book lover, then you know what I mean.)

 I first heard of Steven Pressfield’s “The War of Art” several years ago. It sounded interesting at the time, but I wasn’t compelled to check it out. Recently, Donald Miller mentioned it on his blog and I decided to give it a go. Within five pages I sensed that the timing was perfect.

You see, I’ve been in kind of a funk lately. I’ve had a hard time figuring out why. Things are going well with Fulcrum. My boys are a delight. Heather is flourishing. Yet I’ve been deeply unsettled. I’ve struggled with depression in the past and I was concerned that maybe I was heading back into that abyss. If so, I think Pressfield has helped me understand why.

I’ve been getting my butt kicked by what Pressfield calls “Resistance.”

Pressfied says, “Resistance cannot be seen, touched, heard, or smelled. But it can be felt. We experience it as an energy field radiating from a work-in-potential. It’s a repelling force. It’s negative. Its aim is to shove us away, distract us, prevent us from doing our work.”

Resistance is what keeps us from doing the one thing, that if we were to start doing, would make us happy the moment we began to do it.

Over the past few days, I’ve attacked the resistance I’ve felt and done the one thing I know deep down inside I’m supposed to be doing. Each time, the dark clouds have parted and I’ve felt my mood brighten immediately. Some of what I have to do as a church planter drains me, but when I do my one thing I’m energized beyond belief.

Resistance never stays down for the count, however. Defeat it one day and the next it will be up and waiting for you when you crawl out of bed. It’s an ongoing battle, but now that I know the name and nature of my enemy, I’m prepared for war.

What about you? Does any of this talk of resistance strike a chord with you?