People Still Talking About Twitter Church

I'm amazed people are still talking about Twitter Church and Westwinds' TIME article. But, tonight I saw a blog post by Rachel Motte in Siren magazine online and I had to respond.

You can read the whole article here but these are the parts that concerned me . . .

SIREN:

. . . Twitter, it’s argued, strengthens community ties and offers church goers a new way to express what they are thinking and feeling during the Sunday morning service . . .

. . . In other words, twitter allows people to begin silently “fellowshipping” with other believers before the Sunday morning coffee hour even starts . . .

. . . But is this genuine community? No, not really. That’s the problem . . .

. . . The writer of Hebrews told his readers, “Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another – and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:25) He meant that literally. No matter how advanced communication methods become, there will never be an adequate substitute for face-to-face interaction, and there will never be a replacement for real-life fellowship . . .

. . . We have souls, and we crave interaction with other souls, but we also have bodies. When we communicate through technology, we functionally disembody ourselves. There’s a great difference, for example, between talking to your mother on the phone and talking to her in person. When you can communicate with someone unseen without even using your voice, you separate yourself even further. Misunderstandings become more commonplace and relationship building more difficult. Instead of bringing us closer to those around us, technologies like twitter actually tend to separate us – and it’s hard to teach people about the glories of the incarnation while dis-incarnating yourself online . . .

. . . So should you tweet during church? Not unless you are trying to help someone far away (say, in the mission field) feel marginally included. When you are in church, you should be in church, and you risk being less than fully present if you’re busy with your iPhone. So perhaps instead of asking WWJT? “What would Jesus tweet?” the real question should be WJT? “Would Jesus tweet?”

MY RESPONSE:

You make some decent points here Rachel and certainly I don’t mean any disrespect but I think your conclusions are a bit short-sighted. I hope we can have some friendly-fire here.

Your presumption is that the weekend gathering of believers is simply about community but I'm not sure that is the biblical apex of gathering together. If community is the goal of weekend gatherings then churches need to make a ton of adjustments. There is no community listening to a speaker for 30 minutes, there is no community watching people sing on a stage, there is no community watching videos, dramas, etc.

I agree face to face communication is preferable but your argument about communication is misplaced. When do people ever communicate with one another during church? It would be one thing if a church was trying to replace face to face communication with technology but instead, a church was introducing another kind of communication into an environment where interaction seldom happens.

You also said, “When you are in church, you should be in church, and you risk being less than fully present if you’re busy with your iPhone.” I see where you are coming from but you are making two different arguments here. You suggest that Twittering isn’t real “community” but you introduce another argument when you mention being “fully present.” If by being fully present you are suggesting one should be still and listen to someone speak, there is certainly no community in that.

At Westwinds we believe the Bible gives an incredible amount of freedom for corporate gatherings. We strive to create an original, unsullied, experience-rich, multi-layered environment where we increase the occurrence of people interacting with God, his Word, his truth, his people, and face their barriers that interrupt and antagonize the life Jesus invites. The only non-negotiable element in the whole weekend experience is God’s Word as the living, enlightening torrent of truth that must be present every week. Other than that one item, everything else is negotiable.

I certainly don't believe Twitter is for everyone. We experimented a few times three years back and we use it occasionally in different ways. One of the things it does is it gives people another way of being involved in the weekend gathering as opposed to just being a spectator. I think we need to think of many other ways of accomplishing this kind of interaction.

John Voelz

Guitar Pickup Tattoos

I got three new tattoos today—or one in three parts depending on how you look at it. The tattoos are of three electric guitar pickups. One for each of my children. Each child has a distinct personality, set of characteristics, and unique approach to life and love and music and art. Guitar pickups are a good metaphor for my beautiful children and the tats also reflect my love for music.

Karysa, my firstborn, is a classic beauty—much like the “lipstick” pickup on my Fender Telecaster. The Tele is one of my favorite guitars because nothing says “Americana” like a Tele. Classic rockers like Tom Petty, Keith Richards and Bruce Springsteen play Telecasters with lipstick pickups. My man George Harrison played a Tele during The Beatles famous 'Get Back Sessions' as well as on the Beatles' 1970 album Let It Be and 1969's Abbey Road. He also played his Tele for the Beatles' last public performance in 1969 known as the “rooftop concert.”

Lipstick pickups used to be made with actual surplus lipstick tubes when they were put in Danelectro guitars and Sears Silvertone guitars. My first guitar amp and the first guitar I ever played were made by Silvertone and had one of these pickups. I still have a Silvertone amp and play through it regularly.

The lipstick pickup is vintage. Classic. It is great for music that mixes rock with a folk overtone like the jangle rock bands of the 60’s like The Byrds or more recent bands like R.E.M. Karysa is vintage and classic. She is Breakfast at Tiffany’s and a hot cup of organic fair-trade coffee.

Lipstick pickups, like Karysa, are traditional—but not in that boring kind of a way. Far from it. They are artistic, sought after, and very unique. Look for them at pawn shops and antique stores of the coolest variety.

Karysa doesn’t need a lot of gimmicks to make her cool. She doesn’t need to be “effected.” Her tone is clear, precise, and fashionable.

Joe Strummer of The Clash played a famously beat up and stickered Tele with one of these pickups until his death. The Clash are punk rock. Karysa is a bit punk rock as well. Her tats tell the story. No one can put her in a box. She reinvents herself and stands against the system and "the man." I love this about her.

Connor is my single coil pickup—Strat style. I have three pickups just like these on my American Standard Stratocaster.

The Strat is my utility guitar. The pickups, depending on which one I select, can give the guitar a loud, but mellow and warm tone or a brighter and sharper tone. This is the guitar and pickups I choose when I need to cover a bunch of different styles of songs. It is well rounded. It says Blues, Surf, Country, and Rock with equal conviction.

Connor plays by the rules. He is kind and gentle and respected (not that my other kids aren’t but he has a large dose of these traits). The single coils on my Strat are much the same way. Everyone wants a Strat.

Then there is Kasidy . . . my humbucker.

The open coil humbucker got it’s name because of the way it “bucks the hum” of a single coil pickup. They cancel out the hum generated by alternating current. In layman’s terms, a single coil pickup usually hears all the noise created by the electronics surrounding the instrument that use AC. Amps, mixers, motors, power lines, effects processors, studio gadgets and other electronics generate sound that is picked up by a single coil. BUT, the humbucker changes that.

Kasidy is my humbucker for other reasons. First, humbuckers are loud.

Second, they are playful and give guitars a rounder tone when arranged with other pickups.

Third, they create a great natural “distortion” when cranked to the volume of 10.

Kasidy is my live wire. All my kids are creative but she must be creative every second of every day. She leaves messes wherever she goes—her distortion. She doesn’t have a slow button—until she wears herself out from moving. Then she crashes. She bucks the system and makes her presence known.

She “rounds out” the other pickups in the family. She is unique but she also has many of the qualities and characteristics of her other pickups ah-hem, sibings.

As she grows, I pray she learns more and more to submit to Jesus as He harnesses her raw energy to rock the kingdom in whatever way she carves out.

Love all my babies.

The Winds--a Song

I was excited to hear this song today by guitarist Jeremy Blaska. I hope to meet Jeremy soon. He wrote this song inspired by The Winds--our Cabernet Sauvignon that raised money for art scholarships.

What I Want for Westwinds for Christmas

God did not make up a bunch of arbitrary rules designed to suck the joy out of your life. Quite the opposite. The “rules” are all about right relationship with Him, with others, and with ourselves.

Some describe sin as a “burden that needs to be lifted off one’s back” as Scot McKnight suggests. Or, think of it this way, when a burden isn’t lifted then sin becomes the weight someone has to carry. We don’t always recognize this “burden” when we are in the habit of sin. We recognize the burden when we feel the weightiness of the consequences of our choices.

Some describe the rules as boundaries and sin, the crossing of those boundaries. The boundaries are meant for healthy relationship with God, others, and self. To cross those boundaries is at best cause for discomfort and at worse, death.

The Bible uses many metaphors for sin. One of my favorites is in the book of James where we read about temptation and sin in fishing terms. We bait our own hook. We cast it in the water. We stare at the shimmering. We bite it. We’re snagged.

At Westwinds, we often describe sin as a breaking of relationship—something that needs to be set straight, corrected, made right. In our series, “Sin Monkey” our working metaphor was that of sin being like a monkey you take home. At first, he’s cute and cuddly and seems like just what you needed—even if you knew bringing him home was not the best thing. Soon, the monkey is growing and destroying your furniture and flinging poo at you and everyone you know. And so our mantra became, “Kill the monkey. Fix the furniture.”

Recently I have had many conversations with folks about sin. Not because I am their conscience. Not because they need to be chastised. Not because they need to be made to feel guilty. Rather, because they need peace. They need to feel whole. They need to have their shame lifted.

This is what Jesus wants to do for you, church. This is what he does.

Westwinds is a great place for everyone to feel welcome. I am proud we foster an environment where you can belong before you believe. I love that our church doesn’t perpetuate the lie that you need to get cleaned up BEFORE you get on team Jesus. Rather, hang with us, do life with us, and practice surrender with us.

We use the phrase, “Come Dirty” around Westwinds to drive home the idea that God wants us to come as we are. Messed up. Fractured. Nasty.

But, the phrase isn’t “Stay Dirty.”

It’s hard to watch anyone make mistakes or choose . . . poorly. Some don’t know better yet. The road is long. I get it. But, the thing that really hurts is to watch people I know who have already submitted to Jesus choose poorly. It hurts to watch people who have been walking with Jesus for a long time make little choices that lead to bigger choices that have catastrophic ends.

And, unfortunately, I have had many conversations lately with people who willingly make bad choices and somehow think they are above the repercussions or that it really isn’t that big of a deal. This is especially true of a group of folks who continue to make horrible choices with regard to their relationships.

So many times, I want to stand up and say, “Attention! Everyone! Stop playing around. Walk away from “XYZ” and run from “ABC.” But, scare tactics and laying down the law never worked for anyone.

And so I watch people burn their hands on the hot stove. Every. Day.

Then, they come to my office and ask for prayer and counsel to deal with the fallout of the choices they made. The fallout they could have avoided. The fallout they were warned about back when they had a choice.

And so, “He” moves in with his girlfriend against his better judgment. They do it because they know they are getting married soon. Then they break up. Then he comes to my office and cries his eyes out because he bought her a car and gave her his last dime and she left town.

“She” falls for a great guy who promises to take care of her. But, doesn’t promise to marry her. He gets her pregnant and bails. She comes to my office and sobs uncontrollably because she has no insurance to take care of the baby and no place to live.

“He” starts looking at porn “innocently” and spends the next few years living in a fantasy world of sexuality that is neither realistic nor normal. Five years later he and his wife are in my office wondering why she can never please him sexually. It is never enough. He has strange ideas about sex.

“She” had a live-in boyfriend as a financial arrangement with sexual benefits. He left her when she started talking about making a commitment. She was so used to living with his extra money from his unemployment check. But now he’s gone. She came in for counsel and admitted she made horrible choices. Then, she invited another dude with a monthly check to move in with her. They say they’re in love.

These are just a handful of the train wrecks I witness.

Is it any of my business what people do in private? Not really. Until they ask to be leaders, ask what they should be doing to grow in their spiritual life, ask for counsel, ask for prayer, become owners, join a satellite, serve on a team, etc. Then, yes.

It becomes someone else’s business when they invite others to edit their lives. This is what we do as Jesus followers.

What do I want for Christmas? I want people to stop screwing up their lives by playing roulette. I want the Jesus followers in my church to listen to wise counsel and pay attention, stop compromising, and rise above by surrendering to Jesus.

I want my church to know abundant life.

The Souls Across the Street

A few Westwinds folks went caroling Sunday night at Ridgecrest –the new care home/ health facility across the street from the church.

I wasn’t prepared for the vast array of personalities that would great me--how they would make me laugh, make me think, make me cry, give me perspective, and fill me up.

Let me introduce you to some of them (not their real names).

Roomba—we nicknamed her this because she scooted in her wheelchair constantly throughout the home like one of those vacuums that cleans your floor automatically. Just like those vacuums, this sweetheart kept running her wheelchair into the things that were in her way. Like us.

Dapper Dan—Dressed in a powder blue cardigan and a smile, Dan greeted us with a “meow” as he showed us his pet cat—a stuffed animal. I asked him what the cat’s name was. He told me it was “Cat.” We agreed it was really one of the best names you could give a cat.
Darling Darla—she pegged me for a guitar player as soon as we came in. Maybe it was the goatee and earrings that gave me away. She told me she had a guitar in her room and it took her about 5 minutes to learn how to play it. When we were done singing the first carol, she shouted out to all her friends. “Guys, this is what it’s all about . . . Jesus! GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN!” Many nodded in agreement and a couple shared her enthusiasm. She high-fived me about 10 times and begged me to come sing Easter morning and bring my guitar.

Sister Sara—she sat in the back with her head back and her hands raised singing the entire time. When I told her I could almost hear her up front she told me she knew I was lying but she was giving it her all. I told her it was her eyes that were singing the loudest. She smiled and agreed.

Smiley Sadie—she had big bright eyes. I told her that her eyes smiled. They got even bigger and she asked, “REALLY?” “Of course. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?” She replied “noooooooo” as if I just told her the greatest secret she ever heard. She proceeded to tell her friends that she had smiley eyes.

Playful Pat—“Merry Christmas” I said as I held her hand. “You’re just hear to wreck everything” she said. “Did you have other plans this evening? I asked. “Am I bothering you?” “No, you just came here to break everything” she explained. “Oh, no. I promise you, I will be on my best behavior. I’m only going to sing.” She shook her head and said, “Yeah, right.” She was a tough cookie but at the end of the night she said it was a nice time.

Dressy Bessie—I didn’t understand a word Bessie was saying but she talked out loud the entire time we were there—only stopping when we sang. And, when we sang, she looked straight into my eyes and smiled. She held on her lap a baby doll that was sometimes cradled in one arm and sometimes sitting next to her. Her words were unintelligible but I could tell they were happy words and she wanted everyone to hear them.

Laughing Larry—he slapped his knee and shook his head with a giggle as we were singing. He giggling made me laugh a few times. When I shook his hand after he said, “I was hoping to meet you! You have a wonderful voice.” His handshake was more enthusiastic than most and I think he thought I was a celebrity.

Beautiful Betty—she didn’t say a word the whole night. She just kept crying—not the sobbing kind but the kind where tears slowly and continually trickle. When I took her hand and said, “Merry Christmas” she nodded in agreement.

Grateful Greta—she must have told me “thank you” 100 times. The thing that was intriguing about Greta was that, though she looked old, she somehow looked young. She looked youthful. It was like someone put makeup on a child to make them look old. It’s hard to explain but I pictured her going to her room after we were done only to put on her play clothes and go outside to run around.

Carol the Choir Lady—I am sure she sang in choirs as a youngster. She still had a bit of vibrato though it was labored. However, what she lacked in the vocal polish she once had as a younger woman, she made up for with enthusiasm. I could hear her singing with almost the same volume as the Westwinds carolers. She told me the singing was “very nice, very nice” as if she were the choir director praising her choir after a performance.
Eager Edna—she rolled out of her room in a wheelchair as we were leaving. She told us she missed the performance because she was getting ready for bed. We told her we would sing a song just for her. She said, “Well, I can’t see any of you but I will be able to hear you!” We sang Angels We Have Heard on High for her and she took it all in. Then she asked if I would come in her room to hear another song. She pointed at the snowman on her desk and asked me to take it in the hall and push the button. The dancing snowman sang “The Peppermint Twist” for us. Edna giggled. I told her I would be praying for her this season that she would feel great enough to do the peppermint twist all season long. She laughed, thanked us, and apologized to us all that she was in her nightgown for our “performance.”

We headed across the street to deliver a blessing and left wondering who had the bigger blessing—them or us?

Lord, thank you for the souls across the street. I pray for them and their families this year that you would meet them in a new and potent way.

The Giving Tree

Last night kicked off the first night of Westwinds’ “Giving Tree” at Biggby Coffee in Jackson.

Once again, tonight and tomorrow between the hours of 6:00p and 10:00p we will be handing out Christmas gifts at the coffee shop . . . just because. Through generous gifts to us and as part of our Christmas Beyond 1000 missional endeavor we are taking this opportunity to bless our community.

This effort is designed for folks in our Jackson community to come in to the coffee shop, fill out a registration form and get a free gift. We have hundreds. You can keep it, or pay it forward to someone else.

We are also drawing from the registration forms to award someone a Grand Prize package valued at over $250.00.

Last night it was a blast to see people opening gifts and getting just what they were hoping for or talking about the people they were going to bless with the gift they pass on. Gift cards, CD’s, Video Games, and a lot of great surprises are under that tree.

One woman told me her whole story and asked, “So, do I qualify?” This is the beauty . . . there is no qualifying.

People are given an opportunity to opt in for us to email them info about Westwinds but they are not obligated to do so.

The blessing in all this is being able to spread good cheer, lift spirits, not ask for anything in return, have great conversation, and let Jackson know there are a group of people who care at 1000 Robinson Road on the corner of McCain.

Last night we talked to 30 people who aren’t connected to a church and are looking for a place to call home. It was good to see smiles as they walked away with gifts and said, “See you soon.”

Grandma's Rusted Car Just Killed a Reindeer