I’ve always hated the “Its a Small World” ride at Disney land. I don’t know if its the incessant song, the Chucky-like dolls or just the bland predictability of it all. I prefer Mr Toad’s Wild Ride where every turn is a new adventure. Just when you think you have it figured out you are spun and around and sent off in an entirely new direction.

So I wonder why we feel compelled to sell the Christian life as more Small Word than Wild Ride? We tell people if they’ll take the six steps to a better life in Jesus their finances will improve, their spouse will love them more and their acne will clear up. While there might be bumps along the way, the more we follow Jesus the better our world will be. Sing along, “Its a Christ world after all, its a Christ world after all…”

When the cancer recurs, a husband leaves, a foreclosure happens good Christian people are devastated. This isn’t what stood in line for. What happened to the gentle boat ride, the pleasant song? They realize that the steps and keys and formulas for a better tomorrow are worthless when today slaps you in the face.

The funny thing is Jesus never soft sold discipleship. He spoke of taking up your cross, selling your possessions, hating your family. He promised his followers that in the world they would have trouble and they would be hated; he invited them join him on Mr Toad’s Wild Ride.

The thing about the Wild Ride is no matter how wild it gets you know that everything will be alright in the end. You’ll be spun around, jerked left and then right, stopped, started and stopped again. But then the ride will end and you will be ok. That is the promise of the Christian life. Not that we will figure it all out, raise successful kids, have an awesome marriage and live debt free. Those are incredible benefits that some experience and others don’t, but they are not the hope of the Christian life. The hope is that everything will alright in the end. To quote the movie “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”, if its not alright then you know its not the end.

Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life and have it to the full.” That full life will include wonderful things and things to awful to think about. But everything, every thing, will be alright in the end. Let’s tell people that. Because that is the truth.

I came across another “slippery slope” argument yesterday. A prominent theologian states that if you disagree with his position on a specific thread of his intricately woven theological quilt you will inevitably slide down the slippery slope to certain theological liberalism. Turn back while you can still save yourself is his implied plea, stay far away from danger. I am really, really tired of the slippery slope argument.

There are two ways to avoid a slippery slope. The first is to stay completely off the mountain, adopt the entire menu of self-assured certainty that your theological team offers. Ignore the fact that many brilliant men and women over centuries of study and debate have struggled to land on the same small circle of perfect clarity that your favorite dead author or podcast sensation espouses. There is comfort and safety in this approach. You appear to be a thinker without having to actually do any of the hard work of wrestling with difficult passages and disputed theological points. You simply cut and paste your favorite pundit to answer any challenge to your theological acronym and go to bed each night as smug as a bug in rug knowing you stand on solid ground far from the dreaded slippery slope.

The other approach is difficult, frustrating and dangerous. It requires that you anchor your theology to the undisputed pillars of the Christian faith; the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ; just as a mountain climber anchors himself to the very rock he is climbing. If you are tied securely to your anchor then you are free to explore the mountain knowing that you are in little danger of sliding down a slippery slope. It is much harder and more harrowing than never scaling the mountain, but a life at sea in the roiling waves of the Gospel is always an adventure.

I am 51 years old and I’ve been in and around church all of my life. I have seen my theological certainty over ancillary issues ebb and flow through the years, but this is what makes the Bible come alive to me. I find myself going back to Romans and Timothy and Galatians again and again and again, sometimes overwhelmed by Paul’s wisdom and other times almost shouting at his obstinance. I read through the Sermon on the Mount for the 100th time, feeling like I’ve never read it before. Not because Jesus’ words have changed, but because I have changed. The Bible is alive, it is difficult, it is scary. It is so deep I will never get to the bottom, it is so high I will never scale its heights. It is a mountain I cannot resist exploring, so every morning I check I’m anchored to the absolute truth of the Gospel and embark again on the adventure of a lifetime.

I am tired, bone tired, of the arrogance of absolute certainty and avoidance of all slippery slopes. If you have arrived at a theology that requires no discovery, no uncertainty, no adventure then I’m happy for you. But would you mind keeping it to yourself? The rest of us are on the ride of our lives.

When my zone is called to board an airplane there is a competitiveness that rises up in me. I have to maneuver to get the best spot in line as possible. I’ll step over babies and elbow old women aside to make sure I get to board before others in my zone. And I’m not alone, seasoned travelers have a variety of tricks to score the best place in line. There is Ms. Camper who hangs out right next to the red carpet awaiting her chance to pounce. Señor Loiter hangs out nonchalantly around the desk until the announcement and then dashes to the front of the informal line that has formed. My favorite is Mr Oblivious who continues to talk on his cell phone as he pushes his way to the front as though he is much too important to be bothered with things like “lines”.  I lean toward Loiter, though I’ve been known to Camp as well. The funny thing is that we gain no advantage pushing to the front. The seats are assigned and, unless you have a window seat, all getting there early accomplishes is having to stand to let the other people in your row get to their seat. (If you’re in the final zone there will be no overhead space by the time you board regardless where you are in line.)

I see this desire to be #1 everyday on Facebook and Twitter. We have the most awesome mom, the hottest wife, the most talented children. The volunteers at my church are way more awesome then the volunteers at your church. And when it comes to community service my congregation absolutely kicks butt!!! We baptize more, we serve more, we are just more. We’re #1. I’m #1.

Where does this thirst for first come from? What reward are we fighting for? I think it comes from deep insecurity. I must constantly prove I have value. I need a marker that says I am better, smarter, quicker than you. Or at least that guy. The airlines feed that insecurity by providing a well-defined pecking order. The most important are in 1st class, then Sky Priority, then Zone 1, then Zone 2, then the worthless peons seated in Zone 3 and beyond. Social networking gives us the platform we’ve been looking for: “Look at me, I am at the head of the line. I am winning and you are losing.”

It is this instinct, this deeply seated evil, Jesus challenged when he wrapped a towel around his waist and began washing his disciples feet. This is one of the most absurd pictures in the Bible. The God of the Universe taking the role of a slave. Peter saw the irony and begged Jesus’ to stop, but the lesson was more important than the protocol. The competition is upside down. The desire to win must be subservient to the command to serve. The first must be last. You’re #1.

Jesus knew that the drive to win, to come out ahead, to do whatever it takes to be at the front of the line could, would subvert the invisible Kingdom he came to establish. When I strain to finish first, elbow others aside, “sacrifice the individual for the good of the team”, surround myself with a culture that recognizes the supremacy of me, I ignore John’s admonition “He must increase, but I must decrease.” A lot of what passes for “success” is nothing more than heroin for my addiction to me.

I am seeing more and more the damage this addiction does both in my life and in the American church. We are building a Kingdom built on the greatness of us. Unless we humble ourselves and call on God we are headed in a direction that will not end well. And my biggest fear is that I will get there first.

I got an email yesterday from a friend asking for help. I actually like those kind of emails. It makes me feel good to know I have something to offer, something a friend finds valuable. But that wasn’t really the kind of help my friend needs. His challenge is he has more opportunity than he knows what to do with. National organizations are playing tug-o-war over him and the group he started is exploding at a rate he can’t even track. What he needs from me is advice on how to handle all of this opportunity. As I read the email I discovered something very ominous rising from inside. My first thoughts, “Well, isn’t that wonderful for him? Isn’t he just Mr. Special? He is already winning the recognition game and now doesn’t know where to store the trophies. So he wants my help. I’ll tell him where he can store his trophies.”

You have to understand a couple of things. First, this is one of my closest friends. This is a guy I would gladly take a bullet for. (I thought until yesterday) Second, this is an extremely humble man. Jesus would describe him as a man in whom there is no guile. The thoughts I felt coming up like vomit in my mouth came entirely from deep inside of me. My friend would be stunned (he is stunned if he’s reading this post) that anything he said led to this kind of reaction. That makes it even more vile.

Ashamed of my thoughts I mumbled a prayer for forgiveness and headed off to a staff meeting at the church where I work. There the pastor asked me to read aloud a passage from James 3, ask the group to meditate on the passage for 2-3 minutes and then read the passage aloud again. Here is the “random” passage I was assigned:

Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice.

I do not serve a subtle God.

There in black and white are my twin sins da jour: bitter jealousy and selfish ambition. I might as well have them tattooed on my arms so everyone can see the truth. James describes my little pity party as earthly, unspiritual, demonic. That’s some pretty deep doo doo. And James says bitter jealousy and selfish ambition are gateway sins. Every other vile practice, the stuff I pretend I’d never do, are the natural next steps.

I am incredibly thankful my friend reached out to me for help. I hope I can help him sort through his opportunities, but the greater good for me is that his email revealed something so vile inside of me it will destroy everything I am and love if I do not deal with it. I am reminded again that every thought, every motivation, every desire must be filtered for jealousy and ambition, and where I find the twins growing I have to ask God to do immediate and radical surgery.

If you battle what I battle here are a couple of excellent posts to wrestle with.

http://t.co/mZWTeFWyj5

http://careynieuwhof.com/2013/05/for-every-leader-whos-ever-struggled-through-a-monday/

I had the chance to hang out at my house today with eight incredible church planters from all over the country. We spent the day kicking around some questions they sent me a few days ago, so I thought I’d share some of their questions and my answers here on the blog. Let’s start with the counting question:

What are some measurable things we need to keep an eye on in the church that we might not currently see value in?

If I were leading a church I would count four things:

1. Attendance
It is popular today to say that attendance doesn’t matter, but it does. If you don’t have people you don’t have a church. Bigger numbers don’t mean a better church, but small numbers mean people are going away and there is a reason. So I would track attendance, I’d just resist the urge to brag about it on Twitter. (Yes that was a shot at you, you know who you are.)

2. Giving
Giving indicates growth both as a church and as an individual. If giving is increasing then there is growth happening, and if giving is shrinking something may be out of whack. Not always, but often. The two most important giving numbers are the giving per adult (I like annual giving per adult, it’s easier for me to understand), and year over year total giving. Week to week and month to month is meaningless.

3. Leadership Pipeline
Who are the leaders being developed? Every staff member should be able to name two or three people they are developing as their successors and to describe exactly what they are doing to develop those leaders. This should be a main discussion point at least one a month when you sit down with your leaders. I would have a scoreboard that lists ever major leadership position in the church and the leaders who are being apprenticed in each position.

4. Discipleship
Are you  making disciples who make disciples? That seems to be the point of doing church. If we aren’t making disciples we should sell the buildings, stop leasing the schools and go fishing. A couple of maxims here:

What doesn’t get measured doesn’t get done
You have inspect what you expect

To measure discipleship you have to define what a disciple looks like and then ask the people if that is who they are becoming. To me a disciple is someone who serves the local church, prays consistently, reads the Bible daily, engages in biblical community, actively participates in community transformation and develops other disciples. I wrote about how I would use the acronym SPREAD to measure this type of disciple here.

One of the glaring omissions from my list are baptisms. I think baptism is a huge deal and essential in the life of a Christ follower. The challenge I have with using baptisms as a major measurement is that it is easily manipulated. A decent preacher with a pond and megaphone can drive up the dunking number with a well-timed “spontaneous” baptism. The more important number to me is how many people are becoming disciples who make disciples.

So how about you? What do you  measure?