Keeping a spiritual progression log

Currently, for my electives history class, they end each lesson by updating a log of the progress on their individual research projects.

By the end of their assessment task, the students must also hand in their journal, documenting the thought processes they went through and the moments of advancement of their project.

While it would be good to see a sequential advancement, there is just as much to glean from a process which includes overcoming obstacles and diverting course.

Every Christian would benefit by keeping a similar document.

They track every lesson they learn.

They record every insight.

They chronicle every inch forward.

In this way, there would be much to glean over the years.

For those in ministry, there are duties which naturally enable their processes to be memorialised.

Sermons.

Bible studies.

Reports.

Personally, I’ve retained a few of these archiving devices.

This blog.

Tiny Bible Bits.

And, as I periodically stumble over what I’ve written over the past decade, I’m taken back to the place of these words.

I recall what inspired them.

I’m sometimes surprised by them.

But every post, every article, every thought-bubble is a marker of my process log.

Mine is just slightly more public than everyone else’s.

The three windows of inspiration

I haven’t delivered a sermon in years.

But, three times a week I write a short reflection about a bible passage on Facebook.

Every fortnight I deliver a short address to the church my kids attend.

On the same Sunday, I also lead activities for the infants/primary aged kids at church.

Almost without fail, my planning will fall within three windows of inspiration.

Almost immediate.

In the shower the night before.

On the drive to church.

These are the times when ideas initially germinate, get refined and, finally, become concrete.

But there is a negative to these final two windows.

When an idea immediately springs to mind, then you feel prepared. Even if you don’t stick with your initial thought, as least you have a launching point.

The later windows of inspiration leave you dangling.

But, as you get used to the way your mind processes ideas whilst periodically revisiting a passage, then you can suppress the anxiousness around an absence of inspiration.

Unless you need to explain to others midweek what your plans are for the weekend…

Then you can feel a little awkward, explaining that there are two windows of inspiration still to be navigated and your co-leader should just “trust you that it will all come together.”

Snapshots are nothing but

10 years old.

17 years old.

19 years old.

23 years old.

33 years old.

41 years old.

Just a regular shrimp of a kid, near the top of their year in maths, pretty average at playing rugby.

An uncommitted student who both attended youth group/church and went out with his nonChristian mates.

A going-nowhere slacker who worked in retail, but went out three nights a week.

A young youth minister, working in his home church part-time.

A married, new dad, full-time youth minister who appeared to have the perfect Christian life.

Divorced, remarried, father of two, teacher.

Each snapshot will reveal something different.

Each one is also me.

When we meet someone, all we initially get is a snapshot.

I just get a snapshot of the kids I teach.

You just get a snapshot of the person you start dating.

Churches just get a snapshot of anyone who visits.

And we can be quick to judge someone based upon that snapshot.

And, mostly, we would be wrong.

Or, at least, peaking through a tiny keyhole.

Only seeing a snapshot of the wider story.

The overlooked evangelistic strategy

Some churches, notoriously, start late.

Their 9:30 morning service starts at 9:30ish.

Their 6pm evening service actually kicks off at 6:10.

It’s a part of their culture.

They’re laidback.

Casual.

Easygoing.

But, as an evangelistic strategy, this sucks.

Why?

Because visitors don’t know about your lackadaisical routine.

They arrive on time.

And, alone.

And they awkwardly look around and see… almost no one.

To the shame of your church.

If you want to be harsh, the messages a tardy church sends is that church and (by default) God isn’t that important.

At least not enough to be on time.

But, fundamentally, the evangelistic weakness exposed has to do with displaying hospitality.

If a guest turned up to your house, and you weren’t ready, what message would you be sending?

If you hosted an event, and were unprepared, what would it say about you?

A near empty church, which fills up during the first song deserves a rebuke.

From the pulpit.

From the punctual.

From the visitors.

The trouble is, this third category probably won’t be back to tell them.