The Security of Simplicity (A Day in the Life)

A Day in the Life of Toby Jones … I woke up at 6 am, looked out my window at the continuing snow storm, put on my Carharts and galoshes, and drove around the bay to shovel out a friend’s storefront walk and parking lot…by hand (Some call it insane. I prefer to think of it as kickin’ it old school). Then I drove back around the bay to help get a widow’s Christmas tree in her house and upright in the stand. She also gave me six silver candlesticks to polish in my “spare time.” I had a nice lunch with my editor, celebrating the completion of my second book and making plans for its March 2010 release. Right now I’m at Roast and Toast coffee shop with WIFI responding to emails and writing this long-overdue blog entry. Next it’s off to pick up my darling 23 month old Eloise from day care for an evening of puzzles, books, leftover meatloaf, and the occasional foray into the snowy white out that is Northern Michigan these last few days.

Such is the life of a tent-making pastor. Most days I wake up not really knowing whether I’ll have any moneymaking opportunities. A couple days ago I got a call from one woman who is preparing to move and another who wanted her cedar trees wrapped for the winter. It’s not an entirely bad feeling – this day to day not knowing what or whether any income will present itself. If work comes, I receive it with tremendous gratitude and approach the actual task with the contemplative spirit of a monk. If the work doesn’t come, I seize the unexpected hours to read, write, reflect, and play with my amazing daughter.

Being a theologian and an introspection addict, I move through this new pattern of existence with an eye toward my spiritual life. What does this tent-making have to teach me about life's heavier things and deeper truths? How might my working life inform or be informed by the Way of Jesus? As I prepare to re-hear the story of no room at the inn, the manger, wise men’s gifts, and a baby who would change the world, where will the resonance point be for me in 2009?

I think it will have something to do with simplicity and the strange form of security that comes with it. Simplicity’s security…sounds almost oxymoronic, doesn’t it? But I don’t think it is. Mary, Joseph, and their child had so little when Jesus came into the world. They were so vulnerable, dependent, even “poor” we might say. But they found an unusual abundance in the apparent scarcity of that night – no room at the inn, but a warm stable with the incredible, quiet companionship and warm, steady breathing of farm animals; no family or friends on hand, but visits from supportive strangers with gifts and angels; no peace in their Roman occupied homeland, but a blessedly silent, starry night nonetheless.

My new life as it unfolds each day is full of this very same abundance, little gifts of work and opportunity when I need them most; unexpected knocks on my door or cards in my mailbox; not enough money for groceries but some good hunting luck resulting in a bagged buck (a male deer that is) whose meat will sustain me through much of the winter.

There’s a little noticed passage in the ninth chapter of Luke’s gospel that has bubbled up for me again and again in recent months. It’s Jesus instruction to the twelve when he first sends them out to preach and teach, to heal and serve. He says, “take nothing with you on your journey – no bread, no bag, no money, no extra shirt…” Why would Jesus do this to these already frightened, inexperienced disciples? Why not give them a survival kit, a packing list of the stuff they’d need on this harrowing journey? I’ve come to understand that Jesus knows how quick we are to worship the idol of self-sufficiency, to live our lives with the assumption that it’s a cruel world out there and nobody else is going to take care of us. So Jesus forced the disciples to be vulnerable, to be trusting, to live in the uncertainty and risk of having nothing with them on their journey.

As I live through Advent 2009 and my journey of discipleship, I think Jesus continues to whisper these very same instructions in my ear. And as I travel without the security of all my usual provisions, I’m finding a security I’ve never known before. I’m finding a world that is less cruel than I thought; I’m coming upon strangers with gifts for me I neither expected nor asked for. I wouldn’t even be surprised to come upon angels one of these nights.

Mucking out the Chicken Coup 11/3/09

Chicken shit…It’s the downside of raising one’s own chickens. Among all farm animal excrement, chicken poop is everybody’s number one for having the butt nastiest smell. We chicken farmers can be driving down an Indiana highway on a hot sunny day, suddenly come upon 300 head of cattle, and actually roll down our windows to get a fuller whiff of that shit. But try cleaning out a 12 x 15 foot chicken coup with only one window any time of year. The ammonia like stench makes grandma’s nursing home seem tame by comparison.

But muck out the chicken coup every week or so I must, and, until this morning, it was a task I simply tolerated and tried to finish as quickly as possible. What happened earlier this week to change my poopy tune was that a gardener friend of mine told me that chicken shit was some of the best fully organic fertilizer on the planet, vastly superior to cow and horse manure for the kinds of things we’re preparing to grow on our Living Vision cooperative farm. I checked out her story and found it to be substantiated.

So this morning’s time in the poop coup, as my daughter calls it, was not only much longer than my previous forays, but also much more diligent, thorough, and satisfying. I wasn’t just cleaning the coup; I was harvesting some really good shit. Every corner, every nook and cranny, I was practically wiping down every piece of hay just to be sure I wasn’t missing a single dropping of this brown gold. Once the harvest was complete, rather than pitching it angrily into my big burn pile, I wheelbarrow’d it cautiously over to the quarter acre we just plowed a couple weeks ago and shoveled it into the earth with both care and gratitude.

The earth is amazing, isn’t it? Whoever set this wonderful planet in motion sure knew what She was doing. To think that even chicken shit can be recycled, used post-anal cavity to produce rich and ripe corn, tomatoes, beans, and carrots is nothing short of miraculous. And what this shit did for my attitude this morning is no less transformational. Instead of cursing these crazy birds for sticking me with such a demeaning and penitential task, I was marveling over the wonder of their excrement, grateful for every squishy, trampled on cake I could scrape up with my trowel.

I can’t help but wonder if my little recycling revelation has broader implications for all of us and for the way we live on this planet. I’ve always bristled at those who preach “attitude is everything,” but there is no doubting that once my attitude toward the chicken shit changed, so did everything about this task. Think of all the times you’ve cursed having to rake leaves this time of year; but leaves, too, can be composted quite effectively. Could their restorative properties make yard clean up more of a collecting exercise than a removing one? My next door neighbor has an outdoor wood burning furnace that heats his water and most of his house. His wood pile looked to be a little short for the coming winter, when a huge dying oak fell over in a windstorm right between our two houses, taking out the power line in the process. He came out with his chain saw and a grin on his face and tore into that tree like it were…Chicken shit!

Living Vision Ground-breaking!

What an exciting day at 2640 Quick Rd! My neighbor Andy helped me till the first 1/4 acre plot that we’ll be farming come spring. He scored a big-ass Massey-Ferguson tractor with a hydraulic tiller attachment that turned up the deep, sandy soil in no time. He did most of the driving with his two sons Wyatt (5) and Weston (2) on his lap in the cab.

The soil here is pretty sandy and lacks some key nutrients, but with plenty of manure, compost, and consulting with Michigan State’s Extension up here, we’ll be producing crops in no time. Speaking of manure, our other neighbors just brought their two horses home to their new barn and pasture. They were out shoveling horse crap while we were plowing, and so I sauntered over and asked if I could have some of their manure on a regular basis. They said I could take all of it off their hands (and feet) if I wanted to come and get it. So the soil should thicken up nicely with a regular supply of horse cocca.

How great is it to have neighbors who are so willing to chip in and give a rookie farmer a hand? They like the Living Vision project and are happy to help bring it to fruition. I’m really grateful to all the folks who are helping us get started. We must have a couple hundred egg cartons our friends have saved for us, so that once our 23 chickens start laying we’ll be able to store and deliver them easily. The projected lay date is early November, and our first couple dozen are going to the Manna Food Project and Brother Dan’s pantry – the two main food banks in the area. Living Vision is going to practice “first fruits” giving, a practice dating back to the ancient Hebrews, who would offer the first fruits of their harvest every year to the temple and its priests. It’s an important discipline that will keep our focus on others rather than ourselves and keep us grateful for every meal we eat. I can’t wait!

Farming is an incredibly vulnerable enterprise. The farmer is dependent on so many external forces, that he can never count his chickens before they’re hatched. Plentiful rain, moderate temperatures, and an absence of intrusive varmints are just a few of the things our community will be dependent on as this farming experiment gets underway. Living with vulnerability and the uncertainty that accompanies it will be a challenge for our community and for me in particular. But I look forward to living more harmoniously with nature’s rhythms and cycles, just as I look forward to producing and consuming totally local produce.

Hope you’ll stop by and lend a hand. We’d love to have you along!

Looking for Disciples in All the Wrong Places

Throughout the research for my current book project, The Way of Jesus: Re-Forming Spiritual Communities in a Pluralistic Age, the single hardest thing to find has been genuine, authentic disciples of Jesus. I'm talking about disciples as Dallas Willard defines them in his epic work The Divine Conspiracy - people who actually DO what the master does - apprentices to the Way of Jesus. I've searched high and low in churches and Christian communities across the country, and while I've found a lot of terrific Christians, true disciples have been much harder to come by.

I found one today - or more accurately, he resurfaced in my life. It's taken me nearly four years to figure out what it is about this guy that I love and respect so much. I'm speaking of one Chip Duncan – documentary filmmaker, photojournalist, activist, author, and friend.

Chip's life is so compelling by virtue of the choices he makes, the actions he takes, the career path he travels, and the way he conducts himself, that I can only conclude that when I'm with him I am in the presence of a disciple. What makes my conclusion particularly unusual is that Chip is not a Christian. Duncan has never claimed to follow Jesus and has steered clear of organized religion in general and Christianity in particular throughout his personal life. While Duncan is curious and intellectually fascinated by spiritual practices and rituals throughout the world – most of his documentary work explores spiritual and religious themes - he claims no religion for his own, and he would never call himself a Christian. But I consider him a better disciple of Jesus than I will ever be. Why? Because his life is lived so compassionately and is so completely focused on telling the stories of the downtrodden and oppressed. He willingly goes to places where he could easily be misconstrued, captured, killed, or even tortured.

But Duncan is no thrill seeker; he simply believes in the goodness of all people, the bridge building nature of the human spirit, and the importance of telling the stories of those who might not ever be able to speak for themselves.

Chip has written, produced, directed, and narrated dozens of documentaries ranging in subject matter from C.S. Lewis to Woody Hayes and from The Mystic Lands of Haiti and Peru to the unintended results of the Patriot Act. He has been behind the scenes at the White House and explored the history of Prayer in America. His most recent book, which I consider a must read for any globally minded person, is entitled Enough to Go Around: Searching for Hope in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Darfur. It appears, at first glance, to be an expensive coffee table book, with large and beautiful color photos. But this work is so much more than just another pretty picture book. Its text is every bit as important and profound as the incredible photos that adorn its pages. Together, Chip's words and pictures tell the story of his travels - voluntary and self-funded trips - to three countries most dare not go near. Yet Duncan goes without fear, expecting only to encounter fellow humans with the same set of concerns that he has.

Duncan is up front about his purpose: “to put a human face on some of the world’s most difficult places;” to show that “even in the worst of circumstances, there is hope.” And, indeed, his book is profoundly hopeful. In his lecture this morning (9/18/09) at Crooked Tree Arts Center in Petoskey, Chip said, “Most depictions of Muslim people we see in America are threatening and aim at instilling terror. Those are the easy pictures to get and to sell. I am out to capture their everyday lives in a way that depicts their humanity, for they care about the same things we do – safety and education for their children, access to food and water, and peace.”

For those not familiar with the world of documentary film, it is not a financially lucrative field. While Chip has won all kinds of awards for his outstanding work, he is not a rich man. He is constantly raising money simply to get his documentaries produced, with the hope of eventually getting them on PBS, a largely non-paying gig. He gets asked by people to go to places like Ethiopia and Darfur to do what he does, but those who urge him to go to these far-flung lands don’t pay his way. Chip gets himself there to cover the stories of NGO’s and to promote the efforts of relief organizations, but rarely does Chip come away with any income from these very costly adventures.

But it’s never been about the money for Duncan. He lives an incredibly simple life and is as unattached to material comforts as anyone I’ve ever met. He travels so lightly, not counting his camera equipment, and when out on assignment, will eat what the natives eat. And that is not much, when one considers that his “subjects” are common folks in developing nations. But to hear Chip describe tea shared with an Afghani merchant or bread broken with a Darfurian woman in a refugee camp, you’d think he had been to Buckingham Palace. For what sustains Duncan is human conversation and connection, learning about and respecting another person and her culture.

In the early pages of Enough to Go Around, Chip describes an event he witnessed while traveling with a relief worker in Ethiopia named Abraham. Abraham had brought a small box of tiny sandwiches, one for each of the four travelers. As a man was passing by their 4X4, Abraham quickly broke his sandwich in half and handed it to the passerby. Not a word was exchanged, nor was any attention called to this “thoughtless” act of sharing. Duncan emphasized the thoughtlessness of the act because Abraham did not have to think, calculate, or consider whether to share with this random man. It just happened. Abraham neither received nor expected to be thanked, much less to have this stranger somehow “pay it forward.” It was sharing for sharing’s sake. Duncan claims that witnessing Abraham’s simple act changed his life.

Chip's story of Abraham made me think of the famous Gospel story of the Widow’s Mite. Jesus watches a poor widow offer two pennies to the temple treasury and declares it more valuable than the larger contributions of the other attendees who gave out of their abundance. Jesus' widow undoubtedly shared what little she had without thinking, without counting the cost, and without expecting anything in return.

Chip Duncan lives in this same way. He is utterly thoughtless in his generosity. He says “Yes!” constantly when asked to go somewhere or do something for the good of another, without regard for what it will cost him. I have consulted with Chip on both of my blatantly Christian book projects, not simply because he is a fine and experienced writer, but because he is one of the most authentic and deeply spiritual people I know. Not only does he know a ton about Jesus, but he lives more like him than most of Christ’s supposed followers. The book I am just about finished writing looks at the future for followers of Jesus. It proposes a radical alternative to the institutional Church, what I call The Way of Jesus, and Chip totally gets it. In fact, my vision excites and energizes him, despite his self-described aversion to Christianity.

When pressed, Chip confided in me that he has never had any problem with Jesus; it is his followers and what they have done that has troubled Duncan and kept him outside Christianity. It is no surprise that Chip finds Jesus compelling, for Chip’s instincts and natural responses to humans in need are exactly like those of the Nazarene.

I’m sure Chip will be uncomfortable with what I have written about him here. He is as self-effacing as he is generous. But I haven’t written this for Chip; I’ve written it for myself, as a way of wrestling with the tremendous impact he continues to have in my life. I've wondered for four years why I am so drawn to this man. It finally dawned on me this morning during his talk at Crooked Tree: he is an unwitting disciple. And I am blessed to have this unusual and wonderful friend in my life.

Learn more about Chip Duncan and his work at duncanenterainment.com

To Be or Not To Be...a Church

To Be or NOT To Be…a Church?
(A Church by Any Other Name)

Ever since I took the plunge, resigning my position at a traditional church and announcing that I’m going to try to create an alternative spiritual community here in Northern Michigan, all sorts of people have come up to me and said, “I hear you’re going to start your own church.” Without missing a beat, my response has been, “Well, it’s not really going to be a church…”

A good friend of mine challenged me the other day, asking, “Why are you so reluctant to call what you’re doing a church?” I thought for a long time before I answered. Here are some of the things I thought about:


Is it that I genuinely believe that the church’s cons so thoroughly outweigh its pros as to render the entire institution irreparable?

Is it that I see all the various reform movements and Emergent trends as mere rearrangements of the deck chairs on the Titanic of the church?

Am I simply burned out, tired of trying to be a change agent for Christ in an environment and structure that seems constitutionally incapable of or unwilling to live as Christ lived?

Or is it more of a semantic problem, given that the word “church” is so laden with baggage, horrific history, and negative associations that I can’t bear applying that word to anything I do anymore?

And what IS a church anyway? And who gets to decide? Will the community I am in the process of establishing constitute a church or “just” some other sort of spiritual entity?


Here’s the important thing for me: I want change. I want to change the way I live, the way I think, the way I act, the way I make decisions and the way I interact with the world around me. And I want all of that change to be in the direction of Jesus of Nazareth. I want to see myself becoming more Christ-like every day; not just thinking about him, not just talking about him or discussing his teachings, but to actually DO more and more of the things he did while he was here. I want my family to be growing with me in these same ways. And I want – AND NEED - to be doing all this as a part of a community of folks who truly want their lives to deepen and grow, not just in some once a week or “in my spiritual life” sort of way, but in ways that matter to their community and their world.

My years and efforts within the institutional church have not elicited this kind of deep and substantive change in me, nor have I seen such change in the people with whom I’ve served all these years. Shane Claiborne put it so succinctly in my July 21st, 2009 interview with him. “We now know from all the mega-churches that we can bring a ton of people into the church without changing the way they live.”

Now, please don’t hear me as saying that lives cannot be transformed in and through a church. (And Shane is DEFINITELY NOT saying that in his quotation!) I’m simply saying that in my life and throughout my particular journey, there hasn’t been nearly the change in the way I live to keep me invested in the Church’s form(s) of spiritual community. I know I am not alone in this assessment.

Working on this book and traveling to so many vibrant churches and communities, I have seen transformed lives in all of them. Some were churches in the traditional sense, some less so. I have deep respect and admiration for the ways the leaders of these exemplary communities are going about their work and ministry, and, to a person, they have all emphasized that they believe in the church and see their communities as part of it. Again, to a person, they reject as heretical the notion that one may live outside the church and be a genuine, faithful disciple. Several of them also reject attempts - like mine - at forming alternative kinds of communities, seeing them as utopian and largely selfish endeavors. This contention has been problematic for me, and out of my respect for these leaders in both the Emergent and the New Monasticsm movements, I continue to wrestle with their perspectives.

Henry David Thoreau, Martin Luther King, Jr., and other civil rights activists have taught us that an unjust law must be broken by a just person. I think we all understand why, particularly in a political context, but what about in an ecclesiastic context? If the “Christian Church”- in whatever local manifestation we experience it - no longer bears much resemblance to the One whose name it bears, AND, at the same time, resists and even rejects change in a Christ-like direction, aren’t followers of Jesus obligated to leave it behind to seek and form a more authentic, world-improving expression of their faith? Would such an act be “leaving” the Church or being true to it?

All of the communities I visited in the research for my book are doing beautiful, compelling, and clearly transformational things. My sojourn in each community was intended to help me understand what made them so effective in both changing lives and their larger communities. At that level, I’m not really sure it matters whether these communities are part of the Church or not. What I care about is that they are managing to help people live like Christ in the context of a community that reaches beyond itself to better the world.

It is my desire to do that same thing, coupled with my proven inability to do so in a traditional church context, that has fueled my passion to experiment with an alternative form of spiritual community that, at least in some ways, lies outside the institutional Church. Our concern at Living Vision is that our lives be continually transformed and eventually become compelling enough for others to see something of God at work in us. (See Romans 12:1-2 and Matthew 5:16) If that happens, I don’t suppose it will matter much what we call ourselves or what category we fit or don’t fit into. I am really excited to get going and to see what happens. Would you care to come along?

Revolutionary Road - truly a must see film!

Every once in a while, a netflix dvd comes to our home and surprises the heck out of me. It happened last night with Revolutionary Road. It truly is a must-see. Despite the obvious eye candy for all genders and sexual orientations provided by Kate Winslett and Leo DeCaprio, this film offers a profound and penetrating insight into the “hopeless emptiness” of suburbia.

The film focuses on the marriage of Frank and April Wheeler, whose young idealism and commitment to discovering their passions and pursuing their dreams gradually get swallowed up by two kids and Frank’s meaningless job. Early in the film, they think that happiness might be found in a new house on the other side of town, which lands them on Revolutionary Road. But like the smell of a new car, the glow of their new home wears off all too quickly, and they’re no closer to contentment than they were before the move.

Winslett’s portrayal of April is brilliant, as she manages to capture the extremes of an undiagnosed manic-depressive with frightening authenticity. As the home on Revolutionary Road fails to satisfy, she tries to get Frank to move the family to Paris with neither a job nor a coherent plan in hand, by appealing to Frank’s long-buried dream. April convinces him that the key to lasting happiness lies in living in Paris, come what may. As they busily make plans to execute this pipe dream, their friends, on the surface, openly question the Wheeler’s decision. But underneath, April and Frank’s lust for life uncovers the widespread discontentedness of everyone else in the cast. While Frank and April are not deterred by the naysayers, they are eventually deterred by April’s unexpected pregnancy and Frank’s equally unexpected promotion.

The desperation April feels as she sees Frank’s resolve wane in the months leading up to their departure date creates a frenzy of marital strife, chaos, and desperate measures by April. Both of them have extra-marital affairs, lash out at one another, and come perilously close to separating.

The soul of this film is the tension it conveys between an individual’s - or a couple’s -dreams and the social pressures to live in lockstep with the masses of people who live unexamined, unremarkable lives in suburban America. The brilliant work by every minor character as they bring to life the amazing dialogue of both Richard Yates, the novelist, and Justin Haithe, the writer of the screenplay, brings the viewer face to face with his/her own suburban compromises and deep regret over un-pursued dreams.

For me, the film raised so many critical questions from, ‘What is happiness?’ to ‘Is it even possible for an individual or couple to live a life that is true to her/their own vision in the face of so much social opposition?’ Revolutionary Road also pushes us to look at all the ways we, like the Wheelers, tend to locate happiness somewhere out there, on the next block, up a few rungs on the corporate ladder, or even overseas. The Wheeler’s inability both to follow their dream and to bloom where they’ve been planted destines them for a tragic ending of Shakespearean proportions.

Don’t miss this truly remarkable, one-of-a-kind film. While Revolutionary Road is no “feel good” summer romantic comedy, it is as penetrating a look at the human condition as Hollywood has ever produced. A film this haunting that cuts so close to the bone is both powerful and painful to watch. But watch it we must, for whether we care to admit it or not, in the lives and marriage of Frank and April Wheeler, we see our own lives play out.

It ain't you, it's y'all! - Sat. 8/15/09

Blog Entry – 8/9/09

I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with the Bible. I love its stories, its characters, its drama. I hate its racism, its ethnocentrism, and its assumptions about God taking sides and supporting things like wars and ethnic cleansing. While I’m not in the habit of trying to defend the Bible against the very legitimate criticism it receives, I do think there is one hermeneutical lens that helps alleviate or at least ameliorate some of what John Shelby Spong calls “the terrible texts of the Bible.” I am speaking of the Bible’s communal orientation. Consistently in both testaments, whenever the word “you” appears, it is second person plural – not singular. This means that in the commandments, for instance, all the Thou (You) shall not’s are speaking to the entire community as a whole. When God promises things to the Israelites or when Jesus speaks of what the disciples will be able to do in his name, those “you’s” are plural.

What all this means is that God is seeking to form a community for himself that will draw others to Him. He has always been in the business of creating a community through which to bring about his will and to build his kingdom here on earth. If a community is to be worth anything and to function at all, people in it cannot be killing each other, sleeping with each other’s spouses, stealing from one another, etc. And if that community is going to effectively woo others to God and to God’s will, such behaviors are even more important to avoid.

In our American society’s rush to be ultra-individualistic, I think we’ve misread the Bible by over-personalizing it, turning Christianity into a “me and Jesus” thing. It continues to amaze me that the “personal relationship with Christ” notion, made so prevalent by American Evangelicals, literally occurs nowhere in the scriptures. Jesus made no reference to it; Paul made no reference to it; the Epistle writers made no reference to it. It simply isn’t scriptural, and yet our country has bought into this individualistic corruption of the Bible’s collective message, hook, line, and sinker, without realizing what we’ve lost in the process.

God’s interest from Abraham and Moses right through to the prophets and Jesus was, is, and always will be to get people together, to form and shape a risk-taking community of disciples who will do God’s biding. It can’t be done alone. There is no such thing as a rugged Christian individualist. In fact, the gospel as Jesus articulated cannot be lived out on one’s own. Everything in the Bible should be read with this hermeneutical lens. I enjoyed reading Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead as much as anybody else, but Ayn Rand didn’t write the Hebrew Bible nor the Christian New Testament. Judeo-Christian spirituality is not about individuals pulling themselves up by their bootstraps and climbing the stairway to heaven. It is, instead, about God’s dream for a community of people to live together in such a way that God’s kingdom comes and God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven.

As we all continue what I hope is our regular discipline of studying the Judeo-Christian scriptures, may we learn to read every “you” as a “you all” – or a “y’all” if you prefer. See if it doesn’t make a huge difference in what it is that God has been trying to tell us.