What is Our Why? Part 1

 

In his book, Start with Why, Simon Sinek argues that if you want people to respond to what you do, you need a clear sense of why you do it. Most organizations can tell you what they do and how they do it, but often Why they do it gets lost in the shuffle. Effectiveness and competence are necessary, but all things being relatively equal, people are drawn to purpose and passion.

Sinek goes on to explain that finding, or remembering, your Why is not hard, it just requires some self-examination. If we take time to look back over our lives, most of us will see themes and tendencies that are clues to our identity—to who we are. That is what our Why grows out of—who we are.

When I do this for myself, this is what I come up with.

My mother’s family was instrumental in starting a denomination called the Church of God Independent Holiness. It was a very strict, very conservative movement where men couldn’t wear ties or any other form of accessories like cuff links or rings. Women couldn’t wear makeup or jewelry.

My father’s family, on the other hand, were Danish Lutherans. While the church was a central part of their social and cultural life, it made few demands on their lifestyle or personal choices.

As you can see, my Christian heritage came from two very divergent sources. In fact, in today’s climate those two groups might have openly questioned whether the other was actually Christian.

Our immediate family chose to attend a Nazarene church because they felt it fell somewhere in the middle. In my sophomore year of high school, we changed to the Church of God (not the Independent Holiness group).

When it came to my college education, I started at a Church of God college and finished my degree at a Mennonite Brethren college. I got my master’s degree at a Nazarene institution, and my doctorate at George Fox.

In the various places I lived while in the Navy, I was part of a Conservative Baptist Church, a Wesleyan Church and a Disciples of Christ church.

When I was pastoring the church in Mariposa, one of the groups I hung around with consisted of a Lutheran pastor, a Methodist pastor, a Catholic priest and a Foursquare pastor. We rode motorcycles together and backpacked together. (I know, that sounds like the start of a joke: “A Lutheran pastor, a Methodist Pastor and a Catholic priest went backpacking together….”) During the time I was there I exchanged pulpits with nearly all of them. Our church was richer for it.

My favorite spiritual director was a Catholic hermit. His theology was different than mine, but that’s not what mattered. He listened to me and helped me think deeply about my own faith.

One of my nephews is a Southern Baptist pastor. We disagree on several issues, but when my office burned down along with my entire library, he gathered some of his books and commentaries, begged books off of his friends and other pastors and sent me a “starter library” to get me through until I could restock my own (of course that was before you could look up everything you need to know—and a lot of things you don’t—on the internet).

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a deep appreciation and affection for the vast breadth and diversity of the Body of Christ. If you asked me why I was a pastor, I would have to say that at the root of it I deeply love the Church.

I believe the Church could be the most influential, world changing entity on Earth if we would live up to our potential. To do that, however, we have to start listening to each other, appreciating each other and learning from each other. We need to think deeply about who God is, who we are, and what we can learn from the diversity in the Church.

Those who are Calvinist have much to teach the rest of us about the sovereignty of God. Wesleyans have much to teach the rest of us about personal responsibility and holiness. Catholics and Anglicans have much to teach us about tradition and sacrament. The Charismatic movement has much to teach us about the dynamic nature of the Spirit. We Quakers have much to teach the rest of the Church about appreciating the presence of the Spirit in each other.

To live up to our potential we’re going to have to quit blocking each other out—canceling each other—and start listening to each other. We need to think deeply about our faith instead of just thoughtlessly clinging to the version of Christianity we’re accustomed to. The stakes of an unexamined faith is too high.

My job as a pastor is not to separate my little group and protect it from those who think differently. My call, my Why, is to expose those I pastor to the richness that is their birthright and heritage and challenge them to think deeply about their faith so we can live up to the potential Christ planted in us as a local church and us as a part of the big C church.

That is my Why. Everything that I do comes out of, or should come out of, that.

In my next post we’ll examine 2^nd Street’s Why.