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With three boys aged four, two, and 10 months, our home is your basic wildlife sanctuary. The same goes for Crossroads Church, about a year old, and our informal services in the Arts Incubator (started November 2009).

Last Sunday, Kansas City was drenched by thunderstorms, and during our morning service we unplugged our floor lamps and used buckets to catch the spray from the leaky ceiling and window frames. When the heat index rises above 90, we bring in multiple tornado fans to simulate tropical breezes. When there’s a band rehearsing on the floor above us or someone operating a table saw in the ground floor workshop, we crack jokes and turn our mics up. Off the cuff. It’s how we roll. A little chaos never hurt anyone.

Like I said, Lindsay and I have three boys, Aidan, Asher and Ezra. All three are intense, high-energy, and double as midget clowns. In addition, our place is almost 100 years old and requires a lot of TLC and outright remodeling, much of which Google and I are tackling together. So preferences aside, the reality is that our home is part circus, part construction zone, part trauma ward. All this is so fascinating that we invite people over all the time to enjoy the show.

All of which raises the question: When craziness is a regular life rhythm, how do you make it a dance step? How do you make it the way you roll, and learn flexibility, as opposed to becoming an insomniac and getting a bad nervous twitch?

Well, number one, you look for furniture that could withstand small arms fire.

Number two, you place a premium on spontaneity. “Stay loose” becomes more than a sports mantra. Creativity is huge, because the first plan is rarely the final word.

Having things just right becomes a good punch line. You get used to dramatic mistakes, multiple vehicle smash-ups (with Tonka trucks), and leaks that you might have been able to fix without smashing a hole in the wall. You learn not to take yourself so freaking seriously, because the illusion of control, which is always fragile, frequently gets fried like an old circuit.

My best answer for developing an aesthetic of chaos? Humility. Laughing at myself often, repenting more frequently than I have, shrugging when plans boomerang away. It’s OK, they were just good ideas.

But I’m not just trusting the Universe, here. Pro bono joy is not the vibe of our politics, culture, economy, local repairmen (trust me on that one). I’m definitely not in control, and I’m amenable to this because someone more qualified is in control. Jesus.

Paul, one of Jesus’ earliest and toughest followers, describes, “the immeasurable greatness of [God's] power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come” (Ephesians 1:19-21).

The kicker is that Paul writes this letter under arrest, chained to a Roman soldier, awaiting a rigged trial that will result in his execution. Paul writes about Jesus’ invincible power, stronger than death, on his way to death row for following this very Jesus.

Not quite what you’d expect. Apparently chaos is best countered with an equally unexpected bravado. Appearances are misleading. When life is a tornado, it turns out that God uses tornadoes. That tornado never had a chance. We listen to guys like Paul, a man like Jesus, who was something more than a man, and it turns out that God isn’t beyond making death his pawn.

In light of this, a baby church, a three-story, 100-year-old brick house, and three kids who practice mixed martial arts on each other are manageable. Humility makes sense when God has a startling plan for bedlam. I’ll keep trying to laugh, and hang loose, and not take myself so freaking seriously. If I smash an hole in this wall, maybe we’ll remodel the bathroom sooner. If I can’t sleep, maybe I’ll get some writing done.

Jesus is our aesthetic of chaos.

Time for another story from the Crossroads Church KC start-up. Today’s metaphor is spicy chili (something Lindsay is the maestro of). The longer it simmers and marinates, the better it gets. You can’t throw it together quickly. It needs to stew.

Crossroads Church has been growing slowly and steadily. Like most people who start churches or businesses, my ideal scenario was a community that grew from 4 people to 100+ in a couple months, shattering records in the process. This would be something like the hot dog model of start-ups. With about five minutes notice, you can have a smoking pile of, er, food.

The reality has been different, but I’ve come around to the point of appreciating this slower growth rate. So long as people continue to encounter Jesus, I’m happy.

Over a year ago, Mark and I connected on Facebook. A downtown resident with an interest in Jesus, he was curious about Crossroads. Eventually–as in 16 months later (remember the chili metaphor?)–Mark grabbed grabbed lunch with me and Steven, another of our guys, and we swapped stories. Before our burgers were gone, we were discussing God’s love for cities, Jesus’ perspective on other religions and what the Bible says about sex.

As a theology-loving dude, I walked out thinking, This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. In the months since, we met numerous times for coffee and conversation about Jesus. Mark started hanging out with our folks, coming to Arts Incubator services, and joined a Core group, the small groups that meet weekly for Bible, prayer, and vision.

Mark has moved from placing Jesus on his roster of spiritual influences to actually joining Team Jesus. In a recent text he wrote, “I want to understand what it means to seek the Lord with all my heart…my goal as of yesterday is to seek him mind, body & soul, ultimately learn what that means.” “Absolutely,” I replied. “Awesome goal. Will do everything I can to help. My ultimate goal is to see people doing that.”

And it is. Seeing people encounter Jesus as he is–not as dysfunctional religious people have portrayed him–and thereby being changed is what keeps us going. Pray that there will be a continuous stream of friends entering the Crossroads community and meeting Jesus. We’re in it for the long haul…we want spicy chili.

News & Notes

We’ve switched our Sunday night Arts Incubator services to Sunday morning at 10:30am. Most of our friends downtown think “Sunday morning” when you say “church.”

In May, we set up our space in the Arts Incubator for First Friday with seating, coffee, and acoustic music and met dozens of people. This month (June) we had a good crowd at our place for a First Friday pre-party before people headed downtown to hit the art galleries. Great times taking advantage of KC’s First Friday atmosphere and hanging with friends.

We’re still working on remodeling the first floor of our home/groups staging area/office, and it is taking FOREVER. I’ve started threatening to learn electric and plumbing to finish this thing out, but Lindsay is smart enough to know that would be catastrophic. If you know anyone in the construction trades interested in volunteering, put us in touch…do it yesterday. Thanks!

Peace, out.

In the last month, we witnessed the collision of three wonderful things: NCAA basketball season, coffee weather, and our kickoff services at the Arts Incubator in downtown Kansas City. God has a great sense of timing.

It was about this time in 2008 when Lindsay and I began taking serious steps toward planting Crossroads Church. We began with two people (four if you count Aidan and Asher) meeting in our loft apartment with slim resources, no backers, and a dream to see the gospel take root downtown.

In the year that followed, God did some amazing things. We’d like to take this Thanksgiving to pause and take a look in the rear view mirror.

In the last year…

God began sending us people who love Jesus, love people, and are happy to serve downtown. This team came from across KC and out of state, and is still growing–last month we were joined by Ajay Goforth, a talented worship leader who also happens to share my initials. If you feel the tug to get involved, get in touch.

After eight months of agonizing negotiation and lots of prayer, God moved us into a big Brick House (yeah, that’s what we call it). Now our family is within walking distance of downtown, meeting neighbors, throwing parties, and using this place as a staging area for our team.

Through lots of prayer and conversations over coffee, God led us to a handful of generous church partners who share our passion to see Jesus’ kingdom grow in KC. Crossroads wouldn’t exist without their prayer, financial help, volunteers, and friendship. If your church could get involved in some way, shout–we are praying for several more solid partnerships for 2010.

Finally, and most importantly, God has helped us build relationships downtown (neighborhood associations, art galleries, friends and neighbors). In a post-church, post-Christian culture like ours, cynicism toward church gives way to friendship very gradually. We’re blessed to have a growing network of people that we’re serving alongside, and we’re here for the long haul, communicating the gospel with our words and deeds.

This was also the year that…

• We had baby 3.0 (Ezra, born August 4). Just because we could.
• We celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary (also August 4). Double party.
• We lived in Lindsay’s parents’ basement for 6 months. (Insert appropriate in-law joke.)
• We gave so many downtown tours that we lost count. All we need is a bus.
• And AJ single-handedly kept at least three coffee shops in business. But he’s not addicted.

As we look back at the last year, we’re amazed and grateful.** It’s more clear than ever that God is the one who saves us, keeps us breathing, and grows his church. Thank you for your prayers and partnership. As Crossroads moves into its second year, can we keep relying on you? Please pray:

That we’ll grow and excel in serving and befriending people downtown.

That we’ll faithfully communicate the gospel in our relationships.

That we’ll gain several more solid church partners for 2010.

That Jesus will be glorified as more people believe.

Peace,

AJ (Ariel) & Lindsay

Crossroads Church Kansas City

** Since we are sure that you, like us, are irritated by sugar-coated stories, it seems only right to point out that in the last year we have been stretched like a sprained ankle, angry, exhausted, disappointed by people, very pregnant, strung out on caffeine, covered in plaster dust, desperately praying for things not to fall apart, and very, very reliant on God’s grace which is “never without effect” (1 Corinthians 15:10). We don’t expect this situation to change much for the next 60-some years.

Time to give a nod to another book that, from where I’m sitting, looks can’t-miss.

Ever since reading a blurb about a new title by Derek Tidball, I was interested in cracking this book and exploring his premise. From the intro of the disarmingly titled Ministry by the Book:

This book seeks to open the imagination about ministry, not to close a discussion down. It seeks to sketch several models of ministry, all of which have their origins in the New Testament, and challenge the stunted understanding of ministry that so often characterizes our churches today. I hope it provides a number of “models of permission” that enable a freer approach to ministry and the way it is conducted, and provides encouragement for those who don’t fit the “McDonaldized” version of ministry so common today.

It became obvious fairly early in my life that I wasn’t going to grow into one of the soft-spoken, bleeding-heart pastor-counselors I saw in churches around me. I wished I could, and speculated about whether I could pump up enough tender, gentle qualities to qualify for ministry.

When I entered seminary, I once again felt the bite of square peg/round hole syndrome, as I struggled through classes that tried to groom me for a suit-and-tie-wearing, Sunday school-class organizing, business meeting-driven model of church leadership. This also was not happening, and at times it made me wonder what the heck I was doing.

During these years, I began to realize that leadership and ministry was not homogeneous in the New Testament, shouldn’t be homogeneous today, and that I didn’t need to fit myself into various homogeneous existing models of ministry. So I stopped trying, continued to read the Bible carefully, and did my best to figure out Jesus’ vision for my gifts and ministry instead of taking my cues from various church cultures.

Now, as I start through Derek Tidball’s Ministry by the Book, I’m thinking, This one would have saved me a lot of angst, confusion, and wasted time if it had existed 5 years sooner and, say, been required reading at my seminary. Hopefully it will prove as eye-opening and liberating for readers today as it would have for me back when I was trying to change myself into a soft-spoken, tie-wearing, pastor-counselor. (Who I’m not, but who of course have a place in the church.)

The full title of Eugene Peterson’s classic on spiritual formation is a small book review in itself, and sheds some light on his thesis—namely that to doggedly follow Jesus is to defy the conventions of our society. Check out the complete tagline:

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society

You just scan the book’s spine, and Peterson is already up in your face, softly but sternly suggesting, You’re probably going about this “spirituality” thing in the wrong way. You smile pleasantly and nod. Then you get past the introduction, and feel his fingers on your jugular. If you’re serious about this, some things will need to change; otherwise, just shut the book, ok?

Admittedly, I’m overstating the polemical tone of Peterson’s writing, but I’m doing so to mirror the book’s fundamental message: Slow down, forget religion-in-a-box (1.5 hours, once a week), and start plodding. Excellence is never quick and dirty.

Sometimes you read a book so needed, so deliciously counter-cultural, it makes you want to jettison everything else on the topic in your library—is there really anything left to say? For anyone consumed by doing everything yesterday—including learning how to act like Jesus, which I should have mastered last year—this may well be one of those books.

Peterson paints a picture of what Jesus-discipleship could really look like, and the travelogue is enough to make an explorer out of you. He fleshes out the panorama with contemplative writings on the “Songs of Ascents” (Psalms 120-134 in the Bible), which form a handbook for life on the road, the road toward Jesus.

The spirituality Peterson espouses is dynamic, straightforward and refreshingly “un-produced.” Combine this direct approach with a highly perceptive mind and you have a classic. Initially rejected by 17 publishers, this was Peterson’s first published work: a bracing discipleship text I would recommend to anyone.