Increasingly, adult education in churches has depended upon discussion formats and less on lecture formats.  An increasing number of students expect there to be some level of discussion, whether that takes place in smaller discussion groups or with a larger class as a whole.  This shift has some very positive qualities to it, as it enables perspectives to be heard that otherwise would not, asks students to contribute from their own experiences, and think on an application level.  It also can help produce a warm, casual, and comfortable environment.

The shift has negatives as well, though, which often go unnoticed in the rush to adopt the new style of teaching.  It’s easy to imagine that because of the time used by discussion, then the teacher needs less time to prepare for the class.  As a result, sometimes discussion times are used as a crutch to cover over poor class preparation.  This robs the class!  It’s important to make sure that we are using discussion as a tool for the right reason.  As a teacher, I have to ask, am I doing this just to take some of the pressure off of myself, or because it’s what everybody expects, or is it the best way to accomplish the goals of the class?  Starting off with the right reasons for using discussion as a mode of teaching goes a long way towards making sure I’m using it the right way, because done properly, managing and encouraging effective discussions is a lot of work!  It takes thinking ahead, using the right balance of active energy and passive receptivity to elicit the right responses, and using the right kinds of questions.

Good Questions

But what are the right kinds of questions?  It takes some skill and practice to realize what will work and what won’t when preparing to lead discussions, and even master teachers sometimes ask a dud.  Here are some things to keep in mind as you develop the skill of leading discussions and grow into a master teacher!

What’s the purpose of this question?  Is it to discover new perspectives or to just get everybody talking?  Am I trying to get people to provide information or express feelings?  Think through what you want to accomplish with each question you ask.  How does it fit into the overall plan for your class?  Does it contribute to what you are wanting to accomplish, or does it just fill space?

How many different answers to this question are possible?  A question that has only one right answer is a dead end discussion.  Most people won’t even give that answer, because they sense the dead air that’s going to follow it.  A good discussion question has not only the possibility, but the probability of many different answers.

Who can reasonably respond to this question?  In a related sense, there are some questions that only invite certain members of the class to respond.  Does the question require extensive pre-knowledge to answer, or a certain type of job or life experience?  This isn’t a deal-killer for a discussion question, but it can help you think through what is likely to happen and what is not likely to result from a particular discussion question.

What can I follow the discussion with in order to enrich the discussion and validate it?  This is both a question of preparation and one that is ongoing in the mind of the teacher in the middle of the discussion.  This does not only mean validating the responses given, but demonstrating that the whole discussion moves the class closer to a desired goal.

How does the Word respond to the discussion?  In completing the process, what are some ways that scripture might respond to the discussion, or add to it?

In this post from a few years ago, I thought about some roles the church plays for people, and looking back on it now, I can see that my thinking then was oriented towards how the interaction of the church and the individual—still one of my modes of thinking about the functions of the church.  Now though, I think I am pulling back a little bit, and thinking about how the church functions in relation to the city (or community) and how the church functions in the story of God.

I think the coming year for me will be important in shaping my ecclesiological thinking. I’m sure some of that process will be reflected in my preaching and here on the blog, as well as in some more private and internal shifts in the way I think about and interact with the church.

No surprise here, but I’m picking Bama.

No offense, my hog-loving amigos. You guys have a great football team this year.  Mallett has apparently grown up a lot this year, and is showing signs of maturity—not the least of which is finally throwing the pigskin to DJ Williams much more frequently than in last year’s campaign.  Beyond that, Arkansas is loaded with skill weapons in the passing game, and is going to give our young secondary fits.  Mallett’s good enough to cash in on the blown coverages we’ll inevitably have in this game, and I’m sure you can put some points on the board.

Your defense is a little better, I think, but I’ve got news for you: So is our offense.  I think Alabama’s offense is one of the most balanced in the country, and we really can come at you in a lot of different ways. Most folks think you’ll stack the box on us, and try to channel us into the air attack.  McElroy desrves more respect than that—he comes into this game leading the country (yes, even Mallett) in passing efficiency, and is a decision making machine built to avoid mistakes and take whatever is given to him.  He may not have the best arm in the country, but you could make a pretty good argument that he has the best mind in the county.  Greg finds ways to get it done, and his selection process is getting better with every game and in every day between the games. Beyond that, I really don’t think it matters if you stack the box. I really believe that if we want to run, you can’t stop us. Put eleven guys in the box, and throw in that big stupid inflatable hog if you want…ain’t nobody stopping the country’s best running back duo, running behind an extremely good offensive line.    And when it comes down to it, I think our ability to grind out a long drive or two on the ground (and Arkansas’s lack of a good running game) will be the difference in this game.

Alabama ends up with four touchdowns and a couple of field goals.  Arkansas, I’ll give you three TD’s and a pair of field goals as well.

It’s going to be a fight, but Bama ends up on top.  Roll Tide!!!

Six years later, that’s still the most important thing I know. It’s crazy how different our lives are now than they were back then, but that one single constant—our growing love for each other—is a pretty good buffer against all the frustrations and anxieties that come with life’s changes.

It is my great joy to have Kelly as my wife. We laugh together so much, and it really has been so much fun. tho woman somehow gets me in all my eccentricities, and she still rolls her eyes and laughs a little bit, despite herself.  She’s pretty much the bomb.

She makes me a better man, and we’re not just growing old together, but I think we’re growing more godly together, too. Marriage has been a great discipline for me, a gift from God for my sanctification.  I know the holy spirit uses this woman to teach me all kinds of things.

Happy Anniversary, Punkin’!

I love you!

One: I was at a birthday party for a lady who was turning 93.  Her friend looked at her, and said frankly, “You look old.”

Her friend is 97.

Later on, they decided she meant to say, “You look young.”

I’m not really sure, though.  There are so many thought provoking angles on this conversation.

Two: Thanks to Matt Dabbs for posting this.  The video included there made me laugh, made me uncomfortable, and made me think.  I’m not sure I really buy it all, but I can’t think of anything that’s different with it than what Jesus taught.  That’s what really makes me squirm. My biggest reservation is the question, “so what do you think you should do on the beam to really impress God, anyways?”

The Hole in Our Gospel calls for the church to fully engage in the various humanitarian crises that affect the poor of the world, such as hunger, injustice, AIDS or other diseases, and the lack of clean water. Stearns effectively uses three rhetorical weapons to issue this prophetic call. The backbone of the book is autobiographical, chronicling Stearns own spiritual awakening and professional transition into leadership at World Vision, an evangelical humanitarian organization with a wide reach. Stearns breaks from the autobiography into sections that detail the span of several humanitarian issues. Using the broad strokes of statistics and more focused stories of individuals, Stearns does a really great job of bringing the reader into the realities of poverty in the modern world. These are facts most of us want to hide from, and at times the book is brutal in forcing the reader to recognize the reality of human suffering in the world. The last part of the book, and perhaps the weakest, is a smattering of Biblical interpretations and theologizing. It’s not that Stearns is way off the mark in those areas, but a book can only do so much, and this is the weakest part mostly because it can only be minimally developed.

As a whole, I think the book was very compelling, and makes my short list for books I think I’d like the whole church to read, and really absorb. We wealthy Christians really must wrestle with what our wealth means before God as we live in a world full of suffering. There will certainly be a reckoning for our failure to do so.

(Thanks to Thomas Nelson for a complimentary review copy through Booksneeze)

-Ananias of Damascas, Acts 9:17

Everything is different now.

At least, that’s what I hear Paul saying. Within every argument and every chapter, he meets each circumstance with the whispered implication or shouted declaration that everything is different because of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Used to do what you wanted without considering others, particularly the less fortunate? Everything is different now.

Used to be lazy? Did a lot of taking, but not a lot of giving? Everything is different now.

You used to resent your work and your bosses, and cut corners wherever you could?  You used to milk your slaves for everything you could get out of them, without regard for their well-being?  Everything is different now.

Your life is endlessly filled with the search for a man or woman?  Everything is different now.

You find yourself wrangling for power and control, following the normal way of the world?  Don’t you see how foolish that is, because everything is different now?

You feel powerless over evil, helpless against temptation?  Everything is different now.

Scared about the people you’ve loved and lost? We no longer mourn like those who have no hope, because everything is different now.

Paul had what we call an apocalyptic worldview.  It’s an odd, dramatic expression. It means that for him, all of reality had fundamentally changed, the turning point between the eras being in the cross and resurrection of Jesus. That change still remained hidden from most of the people in the world, who moved through life as if with veiled eyes. Paul himself used to live like that, continuing in his old way of understanding the world, and living as though nothing had changed. The values, identities, and rules of the old world were fixed, in continuity with the way things had always been.

But then, he experienced an apocalypse, or revelation. God revealed to him, directly, the reality of the resurrected Christ. On the road to Damascus, he was confronted by Jesus, and the possibility of continuity with the old world was demolished.  Paul understood for the first time that everything is different now.

It was a revelation that happened in an instant, a single moment where his own personal world fundamentally changed because he realized that the reality of the whole world had become different in Jesus. But, it was also a realization that was confirmed and developed over time, as he learned to follow and listen to the holy spirit, and as his experience in the church gave him the opportunity to think about about how truly everything had changed. Struggling with the church in her divisions, ethical and moral problems, confronting her fear, despair, and selfishness, Paul could not help but understand ever more clearly that central fact, that everything had changed.

Everything is different in the world whether we like it or not, or even whether we know it or not. But once we step into that realization and allow the blindfold to be taken off of our eyes, we step out of the illusion of the world as it used to be, and the new reality becomes our reality. We see everything around us differently, and the more carefully we look, we see with increasing clarity the difference that the gospel makes to the world.  Our lives can begin to change, to be shaped by the gospel of Jesus, which is profoundly important, because the day is coming when all the veils will be torn away, and the primacy and power of that gospel will be inescapable.

This may strike you as an odd subject for a final sermon, for a last word. “Apocalyptic Theology” is not exactly conventional goodbye sermon material. But that’s a little bit of the point. I want to plead with you to be less concerned with what it means to live by the conventions of the old world. Rather, ask what it means to live by the truth of Jesus. What does it mean to model your life by the one who willingly accepted the cross, and who was raised in power?  What difference does this revelation mean to you?  What difference does the gospel make?

I think this is very close to the meaning and identity of the church.  We are bound together by this revelation, we have had the blindfold lifted and who pursue a clearer vision of this reality.  We proclaim the new reality to the world around us. Just as boldly, we proclaim it always to each other, taking each other deeper into the revealed gospel as we live in community with each other.

Tonight, I want to give you this testimony:  Here I have encountered the resurrected Jesus. I’ve met him over a thousand cups of coffee, been in his home for dinner and games. I’ve seen the crucified one in the dedication of teachers, accountants, contractors, students, and coaches —in the service of people who make sacrifice a habit. I’ve had the veil lifted from my eyes, and seen the world made new at weddings, funerals, baptisms, and baby blessings. The resurrected Lord has been revealed to me here in holy friendships, and in our partnership in God’s kingdom.  In energetic and passionate work, in tired eyes and choked-up voices, in laughter and joy, here I have encountered the resurrected Jesus.

You have indeed been my apocalypse.  What I mean is that here, my blindfold has been repeatedly torn away by God’s voice in the scriptures, but also in the way those scriptures are enfleshed by this community of faith.  God has used you to powerfully reveal to me that, indeed, everything is different now.

May it ever be so.  May the Spirit of God be at work in you, so that you consistently and boldly proclaim the kingdom of God to the world around you, to the stranger in your midst, and to each other, so that you and they may know the truth of the gospel, that everything is different now. Amen.

Noted lately:

Donald Miller steps up his blogging game.

Again.

Randy Harris steps in the ring.

Shannon Cooper explores wordpress.com

As does Ryan Rampton.

Richard Beck explores demonic politics.

Want to read blogs consistently? Google Reader.

Discipleship without Jesus Christ is choosing one’s own path.  It could be an ideal path or a martyr’s path, but it is without the promise.  Jesus will reject it.

“Then they went on to another village.  As they were going along the road, someone said to him, ‘I will follow you wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’ To another he said, ‘Follow me.’ But he said, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus said to him, ‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’ Another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord; but first let me say farewell to those at my home.’ Jesus said to him, ‘ No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God’” (Luke 9:57-62).

…

The third one called, like the first, understands discipleship as an offer made only by him, as his own self-chosen program for life. But in contrast to the first, he things he is justified in setting his own conditions. doing so entangles him in a complete contradiction. He wants to join Jesus, but at the same time he himself puts something in the way between himself and Jesus: “Let me first.” He wants to follow, but he wants to set his own conditions for following.  Discipleship is a possibility for him, whose implementation requires fulfilling conditions and prerequisites.  This makes discipleship something humanly reasonable and comprehensible. First one does the one thing, and then the other. Everything has its own rights and its own time. The discipleship makes himself available, but retains the right to set his own conditions. It is obvious that, at that moment, discipleship stops being discipleship. It becomes a human program, which I can organize according to my own judgment and can justify rationally and ethically.  This third one wants to follow [Christ], but already in the very act of declaring his willingness to do so, he no longer wants to follow him.  He eliminates discipleship by his offer, because discipleship does not tolerate any conditions that could come between Jesus and obedience…”

Isn’t that a tail-kicking bit of writing?  It’s not just these unnamed wannabe disciples that get the terms mixed up.  All of us do.  It’s tough to honestly come to Jesus on his terms, to check ourselves so that we don’t impose ourselves on the one we call Lord.  I want to be a straight up follower, one who is willing to do discipleship like Jesus wants it done, who comes purely to follow, with no agenda of my own except the commitment to follow.  It’s clear that If I want to be a disciple at all, this is how it has to be.  I’m finding this terribly convicting this week.

Okay, that might be an overstatement.  This isn’t: Missing people is a byproduct of some of the best things in our lives as human beings. It is perhaps possible to live without this experience, but I don’t think it’s possible to live well!  To live well, in my view, necessarily involves things like love and living in community, which always involve risk.  To experience community means exposing oneself to hurt and the costs of immediate pain, but it also means the long term risk certainty that the bonds of love will someday expose us to the experience of missing people, what we call all the feelings associated when we can’t be with those whom we have grown to love.

Can you blame me if I’m thinking about this a lot lately?

It sounds like the downside of loving people.  (It certainly feels like the downside sometimes.)  In reality, missing people is just a check.  It’s a little bit of feedback for your heart, letting you know that you’re actually connecting with people.  It lets you know that you’re taking community seriously, that you’re opening your heart to the people around you, or at least you have in your past.  It does pose the risk of the future, though, and tempts us to close our hearts to new relationships, lets we feel the hurt again.  Accepting the reality of missing people opens us up to the possibility of the future, though.  It lets us see not just the costs, but the possibility of how people can touch us and affect us.   Missing people shows us that we really do value people, that we are giving to and receiving from them on a substantial level.  It is, on some level, a measure of our willingness to expose ourselves to pain for the sake of community.

I’m in this stage right now where I’m already anticipating missing the people with whom we’ve lived in community over the past decade.  It hurts.

But I wouldn’t trade it.  This is the way I want to live my life.