My alarm went off at 6:00 am on Saturday morning, as it does almost every day. But Saturday was different. As I rolled over to turn off the alarm everything began spinning violently. It took several seconds to figure which of the phones blurring in front of my eyes was the real one. I laid back and watched the room spin around me, thinking it would stop as soon as my eyes adjusted. When I got up to use the bathroom, however, the floor lurched violently to the left, then to the right. I stumbled wildly to the bathroom and then back to bed. I lay on my back, eyes closed tightly to block out the jumping, spinning world around me. Waves of nausea and panic swept over me as I realized something had gone horribly wrong in the night. Either the earth had been knocked off its axis, or I was having my first encounter with vertigo. Three days flat on my back, several medical tests and a cocktail of meds later I have concluded the earth is ok and I’m slowly recovering from vertigo. I imagine hell will be vertigo for eternity, with a side of flames.
Here’s the thing about vertigo, it’s not real. The world appears to be jumping and spinning out of control, but it’s not. It’s all in my head. Something in my inner ear is messed up, and it’s changing my perception of the world. The earth is fine, I’m the one with the problem. The disconcerting thing, however, is that all my previous experience tells me I’m ok, it’s the world that’s messed up. The knowledge that the ground is not actually moving, and my arm around my incredible wife’s steady shoulder are what gets me through the tough parts of the day.
There’s a saying that perception is reality, but vertigo has convinced me that it is not. Perception is just the tiny window I have on the world, and I wonder how many times my perception of that world is completely wrong? My perception of God, of relationships, of the “real” world. The Apostle Paul said,
“Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.”
1 Corinthians 13:12 NLT
To paraphrase, we all suffer from vertigo. The things we think we know are only our flawed perceptions of the world around us. That is why we have to stand on the solid ground of biblical truth, and rely on the steadying hand of unconditional love. We cannot trust what we perceive to be true, and we cannot find balance without friends we love and who love us in return. Because of the vertigo brought on by living in a world warped by sin, daily grounding in God’s word and regular time spent with a small group of Christ followers is our only hope of making sense out of this tilt-a-whirl life.
That sounds so religiously trite, doesn’t it? “All you need is the Bible and a good Christian friend”‘ sounds like something a TV evangelist would say right before selling you a timeshare in Jesusland. And it is trite until you realize how completely tainted your worldview really is. Last Friday I never gave walking down a set of stairs a second thought; today every step is a triumph. When we realize just how out of whack our worldview really is we’ll grab the Bible and hold onto friends like I grip the handrail and Sherry’s shoulder. We all have vertigo, the question is how we will deal with it.
As for me every day brings a little improvement. Today I can walk without falling down. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll leave the house. Or maybe the day after…
I recently attended a heresy luncheon. That wasn’t the official title, but I’m pretty sure the speaker would have been burned at the stake in another age. Doctrines such as original sin, substitutionary atonement and election were tossed aside along with inerrancy of scripture. This was the Super Bowl of revisionism. One of the wrappers for the belief system espoused was “alternative orthodoxy”, which is a little like “modified monogamy”; I’m fairly sure the alternative to orthodoxy is apostasy. By the end of the meeting my conservative nerves were frayed from not shouting “The Bible said it, I believe it, that settles it”. (Which is a phrase I hope to never utter out loud.)
There are three kinds of friends. First there is the friend who you can call at 2:00 a.m. because you are taking your son to the hospital and you need someone sane to talk you through the next few minutes. You know each other’s stories and you have each other’s back. This is the kind of friend you’d lay your life on the line for. You only find this kind of friend a few times in a lifetime. Never let that friend go.
I recently had a fascinating conversation with a sharp young leader. They had just returned from an amazing vacation in the Caribbean. The food, the scenery, the weather, the company; everything was perfect. They were incredibly grateful for the opportunity to enjoy this vacation of a lifetime, but one they were overwhelmed by the economic gulf between them and the people who served at the resort. The shacks, the broken down roads, and the abject poverty were heart breaking. They could not shake the disconnect of experiencing opulent luxury surrounded by crippling need. They stopped in the middle of sharing their experience, looked at me with deep sincerity and asked, “What am I supposed to do?”
When we started down the multisite road at Seacoast Church 16 years ago we had no idea what we were doing. There were no books on multisite and very few models to learn from. Today there are over 8000 multisite churches across the country, dozens of multisite consultants and several books specifically written for churches considering becoming one church in multiple locations. Even with all of the available information, however, there are some hidden multisite secrets almost no on talks about. Here are my top ten:
I had a dream for many years. It doesn’t matter what the dream was, its mine not yours. I always thought this dream would happen, it was just a matter of time. Several times it felt like I was at the edge of the dream being fulfilled only to see it fall away like dust. Soon I was 40, then 45, then 50 and the dream never materialized. The hardest part was this wasn’t something I just passively hoped for, I did everything I knew to do to work toward the dream. And it wasn’t a pipe dream, many trusted friends and mentors confirmed that they believed the dream was in my wheelhouse, something I was wired up to do. I finally realized, however, the time for this particular dream was over. I don’t know why it never happened, but it was time to move on.
These eleven men spent three years, 24/7, with Jesus. They saw him feed thousands of people with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. They were there when he gave sight to blind men, cleansed lepers and set demon possessed people free. All eleven stood at Lazarus’ tomb as the stone was rolled back and a dead man walked out. A few days before they saw Jesus’ body hanging lifeless on a Roman cross, but before the weekend was over Jesus walked out of a sealed tomb and joined them for lunch. And in spite of all they had experienced some of them doubted. How is that possible?
I hate to admit that when I see a headline like the one above I always want to click through to find out who failed. Is it someone I know? Is it someone I dislike? Is it someone I feel in competition with? Every time I click on a headline about a fallen pastor I’m the one that falls. Why do we secretly rejoice when someone else fails?